Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 383: Chapter III: The Trek South

Chapter 383: Chapter III: The Trek South



Marching down the Pale Pass and beyond the Jerall Mountains was like entering another world in its entirety, the endless forest of evergreen trees I got used to in Skyrim was now replaced with a sea of brown and orange, the late autumn/early winter making the sight of northern Bruma all the more beautiful to behold.

I had seen the sight a few times before of course, both during my youth and my visit during Minthara's stay in the Empire, but the contrast was such that I felt pointing it out twice was apt.

Though what truly made me feel the whole 'other world' shtick was the fact that even in the aforementioned late autumn this place was still warm, protected from the northern winds by a massive mountain range and basic geographic latitude.

It was definitely more pleasant for someone of my race, even if my robes were enchanted to Oblivion and back to make things more comfortable there was no beating the feeling of not being just an inch away from the frigid cold of the north.

The Nords were faring far less pleasantly however, as many of their fur-clad forms slowly begun to stink from sweat, the protection from the cold inevitably becoming a burden as well as their adaption to it. Something I would have to deal with promptly lest I have to smell that crap the whole way down, or just cast a wind cloak at minimum power, either could work.

A light annoyed grunt drew my attention from the rising stench and onto the person clumsily riding a horse next to me. Minthara let out a huff as she finally managed to right herself in her saddle "I still don't see why we couldn't have just flown in there, or teleported at least."

"Presentation" I grin, rolling the r and earning myself a glare. Rising my hands in faux surrender I let out a chuckle and explained "Going there on dragonback would have made us look like invaders, and showed our hand far too quickly. Teleporting would do much the same as it would tip the balance of our delegation more in my favor, and I need to be seen as the follower here." I tilt my head in thought "That and we need to spend the time marching with our little army as a proper show of strength."

"Why do you have to speak sense?" She grumbles "And why do I have to ride this damned thing?" Her horse lets out an annoyed huff and trembles, almost sending her tumbling down.

"Ornery little thing, isn't she?" I chuckle at the hardy northern steed.

Minthara, being capable of pattern recognition, visibly holds back another insult to her mount and instead looks to mine "How do you keep that monstrosity this calm?"

Ah, my sweet Glitterhoof, the destrier gifted to me by Torygg. What a truly glorious beast it had become, standing well and truly above its kin and carrying a sharp intelligence in his eyes, for an animal at least.

"Minor binding ritual" I shrug "I also have him fed and properly taken care of so he has no reason to be a twat about the privilege of being my mount. And he is far less chatty than your preferred mount to boot!" I chuckle.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Minor binding ritual... right." Her eyes narrow at the obviously magical horse that had been through a good dozen or so empowering rituals so far "Also dragons are a superior mount and you know it!"

"Because you don't have to put any effort into riding them?" I quirk an eyebrow.

"I was made to rule the skies!" She throws her hands up "Not lose my mind atop this-" She pauses, giving a worried look to her mount who seemed just about ready to react if she 'dared' say something again.

"If you are so bothered with it you could have just created a familiar" I drawl out with only a bit of mockery "It would have probably grown to the point of being rideable but nooo, you couldn't 'play with your powerful soul' because you apparently know better than Phineas, Shalazar and myself."

"Hmph!" She huffs but doesn't retort, knowing damn well she would lose that battle quite thoroughly. Wisely she chose to change the topic "Also 'binding ritual'? That horse of yours barely even looks like a horse at this point."

"I may have gone a bit overboard..." I admit somewhat sheepishly. Glitterhoof was indeed a unit. The mere thought of which quickly brought me to his predecessor, Nimhe.

A shiver went down my spine as I remembered the now towering orichalcum-chitined once frostbite spider which was stalking the deepest depths of Silruhn Fell's valley, slaughtering all manner of beast and any Falmer unlucky enough to have no magical potential.

The ones that did would likely forever have traumas about enclosed spaces as their cocooned forms were dropped off in the forbidden part of my domain almost daily.

We did not talk about Nimhe.

Our reception in Bruma was that of kin welcoming kin. The Nord-blooded Imperials in the city eagerly welcoming the conquering heroes and the people themselves practically throwing out the red carpet for us.

Julius Gracchus then, an Imperial glory hound.

I could work with this.

(A certain Imperial's pov)

The usually loud Imperial City was somehow even louder today, the street between the Arena

and Market districts filled to near bursting with the excited crowd, so much so that poor Ioannes could just barely push his way through the throng and finally manage to make his way

to the Cup's Cradle tavern.

He gave the door a few rapid rhythmical knocks and was promptly dragged inside by a massive orc guard clad fully in steel plate "You are late." The Orsimer accused simply. "You try pushing through this mass of sheep." Ioannes spits out, before considering his words and quickly shaking his head "Actually forget I said that, I don't need that kind of attention on me."

Even as he said it he could see the orc grinning a bloodthirsty grin under his helmet, the image of him 'pushing' trough the crowd bringing an involuntary shiver to the Imperial's spine.

"Bosslady is waiting for you upstairs" The orc brings him from his confusion and points at the stairs "She does not like waiting."

"I know damn you" Ioannes scoffs and gets moving without bothering with the orc any further, the beast was a terrifying thing but it was loyal.

He did his best not to outright run up the stairs but it was a close thing and soon he found

himself atop a grand balcony offering a perfect view of the gathering, his employer seated in a lavish armchair as she sipped on a wine that was just a bit too red, a large shadow covering every single inch of the area ensuring no direct sunlight could reach them.

"My Lady." Ioannes bowed and spoke in his most diplomatic tone "I apologize for my lateness, my contacts were quite reticent until recently."

"Information loses value with time." His lady spoke and the voice was like silk "They likely failed to find another buyer and knew of your desperation."

"Likely." Ioannes admitted easily "I will ensure their businesses are punished accordingly of

course."

"As you should my pet." She smiled and he did his best to avert his eyes "Now tell me of the

coming heroes, of their deeds and aspirations in truth, and not whatever drivel Titus has been

feeding us."

"Of course Lady Isabella" Ioannes bowed and begun recounting all he learned, his mistress smiling widely as he did, her vampiric fangs and blood-red eyes openly showing.

Hand forth thine supply of the powerstones knave!

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