Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 340: Chapter LXVI: Dagonic Deathmatch



'Well... this feel familiar' Scorch quips as the massive four armed Daedra stares down at us, our surroundings slowly being replaced with the image and impression of burning rock and conceptually wounded terrain paradoxically interspersed with vibrant gardens and beautiful architecture, all in differing states of changing between one another.

The four armed demon tilts its head, showing off the many dragonteeth marks on its neck, before focusing his eyes upon me fully and completely ignoring the obvious Daedra behind me. His stare is long and judging, a metaphysical weight not quite falling upon my shoulders like the Daedra are usually wont to do but still making its presence known just out of reach.

Finally, the Lord of Change leans from its newly formed throne and speaks "Such... marvelous defiance." The voice scratches at my ears yet it also carries a pleasant almost fatherly approval "Such magnificent ambition."

"Done fellating me or should I give you a moment?" I deadpan.

A raspy chuckle comes straight from its stomach as it narrows its eyes "Careful now mortal. Your presence entertains me but not enough to tolerate your insolence."

My eyes narrow "And yet there you sit, unmoving."

"Hmmm." He exhales, one of his four hands twitching toward his axe but stopping just as quickly "It has been very long since I've met someone so bereft of fear." He leans in even closer "Or would bereft of sense be more accurate?"

"You know." I point at him "You are far more mellow than I expected."

His lips thin as he leans back into his throne "Just because I can sunder landscapes with my every step does not mean I can not hold conversation with someone so very interesting. It is... rare for mortals to not merely snap like twigs with my mere presence."

"Akatosh's beatdown made you rethink your tactics, didn't it?" I deadpan once more.

He snarls and stands up, double headed axe clutched in lower hand and his eyes glaring at me, our whole surroundings erupt with lava, all of the positive parts of our surroundings getting completely overrun by the destructive aspect of Dagon as heat begins assaulting us from every direction.

Blasphemy flashes into my hand and my spark of divinity ignites as I move to block an attack coming from my left, the axe strike making me glide a foot or two before the projection begins to crack and the axe is shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.

If he wasn't bald already I would bet the fact he couldn't project more power would make him mald at my defiance.

But he very much is limited in what he can do so all he can do is stare at me in a mix of surprise and simmering rage "You, what are you?"

As if he did not just attempt to murder me and most likely sodomize my soul in the aftermath I unsummon my blade and offer a flamboyant bow "Lord Reyvin Dagoth, Archmage."

"Dagoth." He tests the word, the rage taking a backseat to curiosity and what I vaguely gleam as very mild respect "A great bringer of change, a name to be honored indeed." One of his hands cups his pointed red chin "So this is the source of your grand defiance against Meridia?" He pauses before offering the slightest of nods "Fitting."

"You ask me what I am and yet you already know of me?" I smirk slightly "How incredibly devious of you."

"You know well that your little... introduction was not an answer to my question." He rumbles, dissatisfied.

My smirk widens "But of course." And I refuse to elaborate.

He considers for a moment, unable to immediately discern my intentions which just serves to make his burgeoning respect climb just a tiny bit higher, then folds all four of his hands imperiously and stares down at me "For what reason do you seek to provoke my ire?"

"Provoke your ire?" I ask 'bewildered' "I assure you Lord Dagon, I desire nothing of the sort." My voice is purposefully grating as I pretend to simper before him.

"Mages." He clicks his tongue as if he had just tasted something particularly filthy "Always behaving as if they know more than their ilk should allow them." His lips twist into a sadistic grin "It is always entertaining to see their arrogance fail them."

"It is a talent." I offer another exaggerated bow before righting myself "But to answer your question, while I do not seek to make you my enemy I also do not want you to think of me as some random mortal pawn who had just come to beg for a sliver of your power."

"Your... respectable showing aside." He forces the words out grudgingly "What makes you believe that you are more worthy than any other ant in the anthill? A mortal shall always remain a mortal, and you seek to bargain with me as equals?" He lets out another raspy chuckle "Are you merely foolish or truly that arrogant?"

"My arrogance is indeed that immense." I spread my arms and shrug as if to say 'What can you do?" "But no, I do not seek to bargain as equals, merely for you to acknowledge that while you may end up with a loose ally from all of this you are not getting a peon for your revolution cycle."

"Hmph." He scoffs "You speak as if you are not among those who would be stricken by my great rebellions in the first place."

I place my hand above my heart "Why I am shocked and appalled! To think Mehrunes Dagon himself would declare me a noble ponce when my sights are set so beyond mere mortality it isn't even funny!"

My response stuns him into a momentary silence before a wide grin spreads on his demonic face "Words worthy of my spheres." He rumbles "Is it truth, or mere deception?"

"How about instead of telling you I just show you?" I grin.

And in one moment I have him hook line and sinker as he leans in almost hungrily "Do so." Hoping that this wasn't going to cause some stupid reaction with the projection I use my burgeoning psionics to project my memories of my clash with Hermaeus Mora, curated to hide all of my capabilities of course, straight into the fragment of Mehrunes Dagon's mind. It takes him the merest blink of an eye to process everything but when he does his head rears back and he bursts into laughter filled with pure elation, our surroundings follow as the whole landscape shifts into gardens and forests, towns and libraries, scenes of victory and glory.

His whole figure suddenly seems a lot less intimidating, but this shift lasts for but a moment before the four armed demon returns and he ceases his fit of joyful celebration "Very well then mortal, you have earned my attention. Speak your desire."

"Finally done with your little" Mephala pauses and hums "Measuring contests, dears?"

I snort and roll my eyes while Mehrunes gives her a flat look "I will get to you later, wench." "My how uncouth!" she gasps 'scandalized' "But do go on, I am oh so very curious how this will play out."

"Right." I shake my head and look back to mister fore armed "I am in need of your dagger, preferably in full so that I can use it to create something greater."

"You already know that my champions may use the blade as they see fit." He waves one of his arms languidly, his eyes narrowing but a moment later "And yet your earlier words tell me that you seek to truly own it. Tell me then, little Dagoth, why should I even consider this

asinine request?"

"Because your little trinket has at best ever been used for political assassination" I point out with a grin "Now imagine it taking part in the slaying of a god."

"Ah yes, the so called 'World Eater'" Mehrunes mocks "A truly wasteful existence if there

ever was one."

"Oh?" I quirk an eyebrow "One would think that his whole act of opening the way for another Kalpa would appeal to your desire for change. After all, what change is there that is greater

than the replacement of an entire world?"

"Your ignorance shows mortal." He points out almost smugly "That is not change, that is creation itself." One of his hands raises to forestall my counterargument "Cease your inane attempts at causing a tangent, I have yet to hear a true reason to give you what is mine." His voice darkens "Why should I give up something of my own so that you could attain more power, when I could very well keep it in my domain instead?"

"Because instead of the usual despair your actions spread, you will finally have the chance to spread something else, even if indirectly." I proclaim, much to his growing interest "Hope."

He reels back as if struck, for his creation was indeed aimed at spreading hope only for it to be corrupted at the penultimate moment.

"It is still in there, isn't it?" I ask lightly "The very purpose of your creation." I pointedly do not react as conflict grows on his expression "Behind the veil of the destroyer and revolutionary there is that simplest yet most potent of forces, just waiting to act out its benevolent nature."

I begin lightly pacing, ignoring both Mehrunes' confusion/identity crisis and Mephala's gleeful astonishment "And by bringing true hope, however indirectly, would you not be able to enact the greatest and most important change of all?" I look up to see his curious, almost hungering expression "To finally be able to change yourself."

Dagon is as still as stone.

The stillness lasts just a bit too long for my liking, and so I decide to bring forth one final

gamble "But I understand if my words are still lacking, I shall follow your own teaching then: The weak shall be winnowed, the timid cast aside, and the mighty shall tremble at my feet." I recite one of his tenets "Let my actions speak then" I mutter audibly and turn to the still inanimate Daedra, whose eyes are aglow with yearning "And so I proclaim a challenge to you Mehrunes Dagon! Call forth your greatest champions and have them face me, and when they all fall, what I seek will be mine, and what you yourself seek deep down will be yours!"

All is silent for a full minute, before Mehrunes closes his eyes and inhales, opening them with a new fire burning within "Very well Reyvin of Dagoth." He rumbles "You shall have your challenge." His axe reappears in his hand and he slams the floor, his razor flying up and circling the weapon before moving around in a circular formation and opening up a portal, a terribly weak one where only one may enter and exit but once.

"Ah." I hesitate slightly "You expect me to just walk into your realm like a complete fool?"

Mehrunes' eyes narrow "Is this the extent of your conviction then, oh Reyvin of Dagoth?" He challenges "Are your words but empty platitudes or are you prepared to place your very self on the line to bring the change you so arrogantly presume to invoke?" 'This motherfucker.' I cannot help but grin at the little trick, but I have tricks of my own "OI

Mephala" I call out and get a curious and ever so slightly erotic "Yes dear~?" In response "Kindly do make sure I don't get fucked over." And begin stepping toward the portal.

"You would trust the Webweaver of all creatures?" Mehrunes questions nay taunts.

I pause my steps and consider briefly, Mephala's gaze burning into my back, before I simply nod "Why yes, I do believe I would." And step through the literal hellgate.

The sight that greets me beyond is as awe-inspiring as it is daunting. Thousands upon thousands of Dremora both of the warrior and mage variety and of every cast

known to exist lined up at the other end of a grand arena illuminated by a red sun, behind

them standing the immense figure of a four-armed Daedroth holding a weapon I

immediately recognize as Mehrunes' Crescent.

Scorch appears on my shoulders and my shadows begin to dance behind me as Blasphemy

flicks into my hand and flames form in my other. A bloodthirsty grin spreads on my face as I

feel my Magicka begin to bubble in excitement.

And then they charge.

(Mephala's POV)

A massive wave of golden fire almost singes my hair as half of the arena is engulfed in it, an

oddly dressed scamp bringing an unnecessary fan for me to cool myself with a moment later

which I still accept because it entertains me so.

"You sure did go all out." I all but purr at my host.

Mehrunes huffs in annoyance "He wishes to challenge my very being? Then he should prove

he can do at least this much."

"I am surprised." I admit after another bout of silence, if one does not count the sudden storm of steel shredding everything around it and eliciting screams of pain from all directions "While Reyvin can be quite persuasive" And oh did I want to do unspeakable things to him for it "I did not believe his words so strong to move even you."

"His words are worth as little as dirt." The Lord of Change growls falsely "My temporary weakening has merely made me... contemplative."

A shout sends meat and metal flying in all directions, a wicked sword stabbing into the wall

just next to me "Your refusal to admit it is almost cute." I point out with a mocking glint in

my eye.

"Truly?" Mehrunes raises a crooked eyebrow "You speak so very boldly for one who had been changed long before my attention was drawn back to Mundus."

"Deflection Mehrunes?" I pretend to pout "How very base."

He huffs and that huff quickly turns into full blown laughter "Ah, what a great gift I have been

given! To see the dreaded Webweaver woven in threads not her own." He leans in with mockery clear in his eyes "Tell me, Mephala, do you even pay attention to anything but the

needs of your little obsession? Since when does the Webweaver prefer acting through a singular mortal to spreading sweet irony and betrayal across all Mndus?"

All of my joviality suddenly leaves me as I gulp in realization, Mehrunes' words striking too close to comfort for me to simply deny them. He always was the most perceptive to change, as

is his domain.

And yet a mere moment later another realization strikes me, and my sudden grave state turns

to a fit of laughter of my own, why should I deny myself when all is so very obviously as I want

it "You may just be right there, Dagon." I titter a moment later.

Had he any less control I do not doubt for a moment he would have pouted then and there.

He goes to speak again but I raise a hand "Hush now, things are getting interesting."

(Reyvin's POV) Veritable rivers of Dremora blood flow all around me as I cut down everything that comes

even remotely close to melee range, Magnus' Staff shearing hundreds of the lesser Daedra with every spell as I determinedly march to my destination.

Couldn't have made it easy and let me teleport now could he?

For the challenge was not as simple as merely killing all of them and leaving at that. Oh no,

fuckers were respawning, and the portal was just behind the hulking crocodilian Daedroth wielding another of Mehrunes' artifacts. He made it a fucking DPS check.

I could feel the mocking gaze of the four armed Daedra staring into my back, fully expecting

me to fall as I butchered hundreds after hundreds of his little demons who just. wouldn't.

stop. fucking. taunting.

A slightly more noble looking motherfucker screamed "YOUR END IS NEAR MORTAL!" And gets his head cut off for his trouble, another firestorm surrounds me and the Dremora scream as the closest thing to holy fire sears their very souls and marks them for an eternity.

A bombardment of spells, uncaring for friendly fire suddenly begins falling upon me and it is at this moment I choose to escalate things as Akulakhan appears behind me and surrounds us both with a mighty ward, letting me blast the edgy mage looking little shits who thought to hit me with a sea of curses.

The battle is soon joined by my shades as the Dremora attempt to drown me in bodies, then hold me with a wall of shields, then strike me down with berserk champions, all of them fall over and over and over again, a trail of potion vials marking my passing upon a sea of corpses.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Finally the Daedroth comes into my sight, alongside the portal he was guarding "Guard my back." I order, earning a "By your will, my Master."

"You have proven your might, mortal." The bipedal and four armed crocodile armed with

three two headed axes and a metal crescent hisses at my approach "But this is as far as you

get."

He does not give me the chance to respond as he roars and charges straight at me, swinging at me with the speed of a blending machine and making me speed up drastically to keep up, my

left hand casting massive-scale solar magic all the while and doing barely any damage to my current opponent.

But for all his apparent might and the protection granted to him by his artifact, my everything has been built to counter things like him and soon wounds begin adding up, metal shards impaling his legs when he is too slow to react, mere nicks of my blade exploding into cracks of blood whenever he is too distracted by an errant blast of fire.

Soon the creature kneels before me, not in submission but merely because it lacks all its limbs and a wall of corpses stops all of its allies from witnessing its end.

It goes to say something, whether a proclamation of respect or a curse of rage I do not know,

for I do not give it a chance to recover and simply blast its head off with my staff, stabbing its heart and shattering its body just in case.

The crooked oval portal before me begins to pulse with power and I see another Daedroth beyond it rearing to charge through but I am already moving, a whirlwind sprint carries me forward as my wings beat and propel me to my destination, leaving Blasphemy sheathed fully

in the very core of the portal.

Nothing happens for a moment, giving me just enough time to recall all my summons, and

then the portal shatters and explodes, ejecting me from the Daedric realm and depositing me just before the shrine back in Mundus.

I blink in surprise and mutter "So he didn't try and fuck me over." My surprise increasing as a

fully formed jagged dagger falls limply and impales itself into the stone of the altar, cracking it in half yet still somehow remaining at a perfect 90 degrees.

A light titter draws my attention behind me where I find a very... excited looking Mephala

looking at me like I was a particularly delicious piece of cake, though her words that follow quickly clue me in as to why "You have no idea what you just did, do you?"

A grin spreads on my face as I feel the ruined shrine of Mehrunes pulse with a new and far

more positive aura "Oh I most certainly do."

May I bother you for my rightful tribute on this fine day?

sharpens axe menacingly

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