Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 367: Chapter XC: Upgrades Galore



The house offers is praise and thanks to Joacim, who has found wisdom and been given the rights to abscond from the mines.

Don't think too hard on the extra bits in today's soup.

(Reyvin's POV)

Another week had passed since Minthara's challenge to Odahviing, the smug look she gave me once she told me she managed to get two dragons under her command for the price of one was rather amusing.

Of course said smug look disappeared the moment I reminded her that none of them were actually bound to her and could not do Krein's neat shadow materialization trick when she called for them.

The pout she made then had me laughing my ass off and promptly earned me a challenge to a spar in which she almost managed to catch me off guard by stopping time at a rather inopportune moment.

I, of course, paid her back by siccing the skittering swarm at her, earning me an instant victory as she wisely ran the fuck out of the training arena.

Still, the time-stop trick did prove that my reluctance to leave my tower in the past weeks was the right decision.

While Minthara and her merry band of dragon-slayers went around the province slaughtering any poor fucker who was stupid enough to attack anything beside an isolated homestead, I busied myself in my final preparations.

Hundreds upon hundreds of potions I ordered from both Hakan and Morrigan, and any other alchemist of at least expert skills from within and without Skyrim, all to buy just a bit more of a chance and ensure that as many people survived as was possible.

The same went for scrolls, all my apprentices, students, servants, and magi of any calling who could do the work were instructed to scribe as many of the damned things as humanly or elvenly possible, focusing mostly on healing and defense since a scroll was of little use against dragons and the Draugr would be dealt with easily enough by the horde of elite warriors Torygg was gathering in Solitude.

But all those things paled in comparison to what I had truly dedicated my time to. Weeks upon weeks of bothering the smiths, of coming up with schematics, of studying Gauldur's ways and applying them to my own, and finally of carefully inscribing every inch of cloth and metal I needed finally resulted in my ultimate set of enchanted equipment.

The lightshow my tower emitted was described to me as being of truly epic proportions by the time I was done with my day-long enchanting session. Some of the more superstitious of my subjects even went so far as to visit the various shrines in my domain and make offerings due to the 'auspicious' occasion.

Anyone who said otherwise though got their asses beaten into the ground, I had no time for agitators with too much time on their hands and Davos was more than happy to have his people educate them of the error of their ways.

Shaking my head and thus the thoughts of stupid idiots away I looked back to the results of my work.

A completely new set of ten rings, all of them made to seem like thin and slightly longer than usual bands of metal engraved with constantly moving and shimmering purple runes and each and every one of them radiating enough power to kill someone too weak to wear them. [Sharmat's Reach: The pinnacle of Tamrielic craft, these rings are enough for one to declare themselves a Sorcerer King by the simple virtue of wearing them.

Eyehold: Channeling the Eye of Magnus is twice as efficient.

Aetherius Descended: Quintuples Magicka reserves without limitation.

Untouchable: Violently distorts space once the bearer is sufficiently threatened]

I almost feared putting the damned things on, almost.

My gaze passed then by the amulet sitting right next to the rings, a simple thing of blackened dragonbone held on an ebony chain and engraved with numerous dovahzul runes. It held the shape of a dragon, closely resembling the Septim emblem save for one detail, a glaive piercing the dragon's heart.

[Dragonfell Amulet: The bane of time spirits and their progenitors.

Provides the bearer with immense resistance to temporal effects.]

'Hopefully Akatosh won't mind too terribly' I smirk and my eyes drift to a mannequin holding my newest set of armor and robes, the previous one now having joined its predecessor in my vaults alongside the rings and amulet.

It looked much the same as my previous set, save for the far greater number of runes and engravings. Where my previous set was something akin to light plate covered in a mage's cloak, my new set looked downright mighty in comparison, the light plate having been replaced with enchanted gothic-style armor with the usual Dunmeri spin and enclosed in a heavy robe of spidersilk I got from Mephala herself, looking more like smoke than actual fabric.

In short, I was about to look a lot more magnificent!

[Vestments Of The Blasphemer: Vestments of Dagoth, the greatest of his line. Highly protective and comfortable, they are made in such a way that they shall remain the same

forevermore without any need for maintenance.

Blasphemy Unbound: Channels and guides the bearer's divinity in a far more controlled and efficient fashion. Can only be worn by one of Dagoth's blood.

Heavy layered ebony plate mail (Weightless)

Provides ten times the normal regeneration of Magicka.

Absorbs spells of immense potency (up to 500 Magicka per second)

Aetherial Escape: Transforms the bearer into their soul form, slows time, and grants immense speed in case of grave danger or injury.]

I smirked happily at the wall of text and nodded to myself 'And one final thing.' My hand reached for the blade sheathed at my hip and with a flick Blasphemy appeared in my hand, the sword looked much the same with only a small symbol engraved at its pommel being the difference.

Flicking my hand once more I activated the enchantment and the grip of the blade elongated without noise or light, creating a long grip of blackened dragonbone for my new glaive.

I swung the weightless weapon left and right and it felt perfect in my hands. Finally I could return to whacking people over the head from a safe distance! Though I doubt I will get much opportunity in truth, if the staff's enchantment was anything to go by.

[Mercy's End: Transfer's the effect of the blade attached onto spells (Excluding rule-

breaker).]

A part of me was annoyed that I was unable to transfer Blasphemy's rule-breaking ability to my magic but I understood that that was probably a good thing after only a bit of consideration. Still, having the vorpal effect on my spells was a massive buff to my damage, especially if I were to count Dagon's blessing, which I most shamelessly shall.

Thoughts of ripped-apart enemies aside I guess I really should stop procrastinating this, there was work to be done and my senses told me that Davos had just started heading for my

workshop.

The moment I put on my first ring I had to hold back a rather nasty moan as I felt its power spread through my everything, Scorch was still laughing his feathery ass off as I finished soulbinding the rings and moved on to the amulet.

That thankfully didn't make me behave like a literal dog but it did almost put me to sleep with

a sudden sense of calm which thankfully reduced greatly once the binding was done.

I did however, sit down and almost fall asleep once I was done putting on my new vestments, the bloody heavy plate armor felt like gods damned silk!

Decadence! Utter decadence I say!

And I loved every single moment of it!

Still, it wasn't as if all I did was spend my time enchanting. My personal training with the Paladins, Akulakhan and Minthara when she had the time, had also shown some progress, even if I still wasn't quite the master warrior I wanted to be.

[STR: 54 => 56]

[DEX: 55 => 58]

[VIT: 81 => 85]

[Mind: 88 => 93]

[MAG: 1650 => 1700(8500)]

'Jesus fuck, that is a lot of Magicka' I let out an appreciative whistle, my left hand whipping to

the side and applying a slight pressure onto a nearby table via telekinesis. The downright massive surge of magic I felt at my fingertips felt like they were about to make

them burst for a moment but the pressure soon disappeared as the table I tried lifting

promptly turned into tiny steel shavings.

And yes, it was a gods damned steel table.

"Welp." Scorch appears on my shoulder, his flames noticeably brighter "That looks like it is

going to take some getting used to."

"Good thing we will need all the brute strength we can get, eh?" I ask, smirking slightly.

Before he can answer there is knocking at the door and I wave my hand to open them, this

time under far greater control and with presence of mind I only make the doors shudder slightly under the force of my magic instead of outright shattering them and killing theNôv(el)B\\jnn

person knocking.

"Boss." Davos walks in and nods his head "You have guests." He pauses, hesitating for a

moment "Unexpected guests."

"Whomst?" I quirk an eyebrow.

He narrows his eyes in confusion but then just shakes his head "A delegation from Great House Redoran apparently. They have the proper documents and the banner but I didn't know

if we should just let them into the tower?"

"Did the leader introduce themselves?" I ask.

Davos nods "Almeril Faren, House Brother of Great House Redoran."

"Well at least they sent someone of sufficient rank." I shrug and mutter "So that should mean

they mean actual business, but we are talking about the Redoran here and they aren't ones for shenanigans anyways."

"So should I let them in?" Davos draws me from my thoughts.

I wave him on "Sure, I did expect them to send someone but not this quickly. Lead them to the dining hall and offer food and refreshment, I will be joining you soon enough."

"Sure thing Boss." He salutes lazily and leaves.

'Should have asked him how Nightshade was doing.' I mentally slap myself 'She is just about

approaching the end of her pregnancy.'

"Well, no matter." I get up and clap my gauntleted hands, not even feeling the metal pressing

onto my skin as I did "Best that I got moving now, or I will be spending the evening in the

chair."

Having unsummoned my equipment and instead dressed myself in a proper noble suit, I left my rooms and started walking in the direction of the dining hall/reception room. But before I could leave the hallway, a nearby door opened and a rather stressed Minthara

stepped into the hall "Hey Reyvin." She greets me, looks into my eyes, and then down, obviously embarrassed about something.

"Greetings Dragon Overlady." I bow dramatically "How can this humble mage be of

assistance tonight?"

She rolls her eyes and then hesitates once more before steeling herself "We will be attacking tomorrow." She half states.

"Yeees?" I raise an eyebrow, my mouth already twitching into a grin as I realized where this

was going.

She crosses her arms, one of her hands reaching for her hair as she begun to twirl it "Well I

was thinking... since we will be fighting for our lives soon enough maybe you would want to..." She looks away, her face having taken on a similar hue to her hair.

I let out an amused chuckle, making her huff and give me an annoyed if heatless glare.

My opposition to the idea has been thoroughly chiseled into submission at this point so I decide to give her a bit of motivation and buy myself just a tad more time to procrastinate about my life decisions.

"Tell you what." I grin cheekily and she perks up "Beat the everloving shit out of Alduin and I will forget every possible protestation I may come up with."

Suddenly her eyes narrow into slits and she becomes almost hyperfocused "He is dead" She

mutters "He just doesn't know it yet."

I let out a burst of laughter, soon joined by Minthara as she realized what just happened.

Shaking my head I turn to leave "Oh and congratulations."

"What for?" she asks.

"You know how I never officially ended your apprenticeship?" I turn to her with a smirk "Well

here you go." And toss her a College of Winterhold certificate, giving her the rank of High

Battlemage.

She looks down on the elaborate folded scroll and then back up at me "You better hold to your promise." She growls almost hungrily.

I chuckle and disappear in a shudder of shadow.

The quarries hunger for manflesh!

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