181 Chapter XLIV: The End Of Glory
(General POV)
Morokei the glorious observed the blasphemous invaders of his master's domain, two Dunmer mages and an Orc that stunk of the beast Daedra. The priest could not do much else in his current imprisoned state, his earlier attempts had failed so spectacularly that he had to focus all of his considerable skill on replenishing his power for when the true fight came.
He clutched hard the divine staff that had shown itself to him all those years ago and resumed his observations. He recognized the one who called himself Aren, he was after all the one at fault for his current predicament and the target of his ire, but the other Dunmer drew far more of his attention and surprisingly his caution.
He had the distinct feel of a tongue and bore the aura of one, not a Dragonborn that much was certain but equally certain was his power. His fluency in sacred Dovahzul did him credit but his childish quips implied a lack of wisdom for one of such strength.
No matter... All three would fall for their blasphemy.
Naturally, the moment the younger Mer's eyes fell upon him he once again did something insolent. Without any preamble, the disrespectful youth launched a massive bolt of lightning at the ancient Dragon Priest and nodded as the spell dissipated on contact with the orb surrounding his target.
"As expected" Reyvin muttered to the Archmage "It would be really stupid if we found out you could have just killed him by binding him."
"Har, har har." Savos replied sarcastically "You truly are the picture of wit Reyvin."
"Think I should try stabbing it?" Durrak asked with hope in his eyes.
Reyvin merely shook his head "No, I doubt it would be that easy."
The trio started walking up the stairs toward the two specters that charged Morokei's prison with their very essence, only for Reyvin to suddenly still. His two companions gave him odd looks but when he turned around with devious glee in his eyes both knew that he had just come up with something ridiculous.
For the following hour, the mighty Dragon Priest had to look on with equal amounts of despair and outrage as the elves carved runes of power all around him while the orc simply rested and polished his spear.
If Morokei still possessed the required vocal cords he would have already let out a scream of such fury he suspected he might even awaken his master with it.
When they finally finished their insolent inscription Morokei had hoped they would get on with it... His hopes were dashed most thoroughly as the younger mage started summoning fully functioning Dwemer automata and positioning them at every single spot in which they could harry his target.
The interlopers took their sweet time, fully knowing that their actions were a double-edged sword as the priest did not remain idle while they worked. He analyzed each and every rune they placed and discerned their meaning, preparing to deploy swift countermeasures the moment he was freed.
The priest did not notice the sly smile that appeared upon the younger Mer's face, the runes were doing their job.
Finally, as the sixth ballista, this one far larger than the rest, was placed atop a firm wall, the duo of magi ascended the stairs and their companion straightened up and downed multiple elixirs of strength.
The time for battle had come.
(Savos' POV)
'Deep breaths Savos' I command my trembling mind as I stand behind the specter of the friend I betrayed. Reyvin gives me a look that says 'Take your time' before masking his face and positioning an ominous looking dagger behind the other ghost.
"Be free" I mutter and stab my victim, another sound soon following to my right. Then as if a house of trembling cards, the haphazardly formed spell I created all those years ago falls apart, and 'Morokei' wastes no time in acting.
"FEM ZII GRON"
The moment he is freed he turns himself into a ghost-like state, likely wishing to avoid our preparations completely... 'Too bad for him we already expected that to be his reaction' I cannot help but smirk.
I feel the lich's glare at the total lack of spells activating, and just as he is about to move Reyvin pulls out Azura's Star of all things and launches a crystalline bolt of soul energy at him. The cautious undead tries to move out of the way but the bolt still catches him in the foot, taking out a good chunk of it.
(General POV)
Morokei snarls in pain and fury. It had been millennia since he felt any kind of pain, yet he couldn't lash out with his magic, for as soon his ethereal state ended so did the runes around him activate.
He swung out his mighty staff and immediately destroyed the spells to his right, which is all the time he had to do as the rest detonated, causing a great conflagration of blue and crimson.
His wards were successful in protecting him from harm, yet they also distracted him from his foes' renewed attack. Metal bolts flew at him from all sides, causing magical explosions of their own, and if that wasn't enough the unnaturally large Orc had run up to him and started stabbing at him with a vicious-looking spear.
This too would have been easily dealt with, if not for the two mages looming above him starting to bombard his position with lightning spells and the dozens of atronachs doing so with fire.
As he dodged another spear thrust only to have his mask singed with a firebolt, Morokei concluded that he had had enough of this childish game. With a snarl of rage, both magical and mundane, he erupted with power, only enhanced by his staff, and sent out a wave of force that launched everything in the great chamber away from him.
One of his foes had surprisingly expected this and before he could press his advantage the young Mer shouted "FUS RO DAH!" forcing the dragon priest to respond with his own shout and giving the others time to recover.
Yet merely blasting everything around him wasn't the only trick up Morokei's desiccated sleeve, for as the orc and some of the intact automatons prepared to resume their attack the ancient Dragon Priest summoned forth his defenders, a group of ethereal Draugr from his own retinue in ancient times.
As the small horde of undead headed off much of his enemy's strength, Morokei chose to engage the duo of magi himself. He swung out his staff once again, launching a beam of destructive power and cutting straight through any wards placed in front of him, his first target only being saved by literal precognition and a telekinetic shove, while the other wielded a shield belonging to the filthy Daedra that dared take on the form of a dragon.
This only served to enrage the lich further.
Not to be outdone, his enemies closed in, all three of them levitating in the air as Magicka billowed all around them. Aren started bombarding the lich with a chaotic mix of elements condensed into the form of lightning while the younger one imbued his flames with the essence of the very sun and focused on denying Morokei's movement.
And so, the true dance began.
(Reyvin's POV)
Fighting someone competent is both fun and frustrating. Every time we manage to press the attack, the damn dragon fucker just pulls out another 'Staff of Magnus' fuck you attack. I really sho- 'DUCK!' A cyan blue beam of energy passes above my head and crumbles the stone wall behind me.
The lich, probably expecting to at least knock me away, turns to Savos and starts trying to literally bury him by way of throwing a small hill his way with earth magic.
I focus on my connection with Scorch and start casting fireball after fireball, the spells coming to me almost too easily with how connected I was to the violent element, and easily drawing his attention from Savos once more.
The longer the battle continued, the more we closed in. The ancient lich was a great spellcaster but he was quite frankly a terrible fighter in melee, and each time I managed to force a clash he would be the one to end up hurt or singed.
Once more I closed in for a powerful slash but he was ready for me this time "TIID KLO UL" before I could even blink I was launched backward by a wall of force and speared through with a beam of magic from his staff.
The damn thing had straight up just bypassed my robe's emergency enchantment, but thankfully nothing vital was hit. My mind finally caught up with what had happened and I immediately shouted a "TIID!" of my own, slowing my own time just at the right moment to see that Morokei had already redirected his staff toward Savos.
The Archmage must have seen what had happened to me and used the time to overcharge a close-range solar explosion, but he underestimated just how quickly someone could move when under the effect of chronomancy.
As the blob of magic atop the Staff of Magnus swirled with power a stray thought entered my mind. The voice of Shalazar of all people came to me in form of a memory with one simple word 'Zap!'.
I did not have time to think, so I did not. Without consideration of any kind, or even aiming if I was being truthful, I blasted Morokei with the simplest and quickest bolt of lightning magic I had on hand. And as if guided by fate, that one simple bolt struck directly into the tip of Magnus' staff, disrupting it for but a moment.
But said moment was all Savos had needed.
With a snarl of rage that had decades upon decades to stew, the Archmage blasted the lich from point-blank range, specifically targeting his right hand and severing it, removing the divine staff from the undead's possession. And just to rub salt into the proverbial injury, as Morokei was slowly levitating back up, Savos picked up the staff and pointed it at his foe.
They stared at each other for what was but an instant but must have felt like an age... Before Savos blasted the undead straight to Sovengarde.
Both of us turned completely silent. I for one was incredibly tired and Savos was probably going on a walk down memory lane, so we just sat down atop the nearby stone structure and watched in fascination as Durrak ran circles around the remaining few Draugr and dispatched them with ease.
"Feeling better now?" I ask after a few breaths, the pain of my wound disappearing as swiftly as the wound itself.
Savos says nothing but nods.
"Good" I nod back and summon forth the mask called Morokei.
(Savos' POV)
As Reyvin looks at the mask I can practically feel him radiating curiosity... Then his hand starts shaking... And now his entire body is shaking... Is that smoke coming out of his ears?
"Are you alright?" I ask, the irony of the situation not lost on me.
Instead of answering, my grandson stands up and throws the mask against the ground with a snarl of incandescent rage.
His Orc friend jogs up to us, likely having noticed the commotion, and asks almost expectantly "What did you 'discover' this time?"
'Almost as if talking to an enraged toddler' I cannot help but think.
"I have been cheated!" Reyvin yells, and noticing our expectant gazes he sighs while bringing the mask up "I expected this damn thing to be the work of a master, the culmination of ancient enchanting..." He trails off, his disappointment palpable "BUT THEY JUST RAMMED A DRAGON SOUL INTO THREE DAMN RUNES AND CALLED IT A DAY! ARGHHH!!!!"
I stare at my frothing descendant for a moment of stunned silence... before breaking out into a fit of laughter, causing him to join but a couple of moments later.
Maybe he is right, I really shouldn't just lie down and die. After all, I can't let myself miss all of the stupid things he will no doubt end up doing.
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It is time to st-st-st-st-stone!
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