Salvahkiin
Archer
My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
Posts: 1,055
Likes: 4
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Post by Salvahkiin on Mar 7, 2015 20:15:15 GMT -5
Knock, knock, knock. Modyn excitedly ran to his door, and opened it. Awaiting him was a puny looking Nord, with a handheld package, wrapped in leather. The courier said some things, but Modyn was far too interested in the package. Modyn snatched it out of his hand, and told the nord to leave.
Hermaeus Mora said five filled soul gems, the more powerful the soul, the better. A welkynd stone, and a chunk of void salts. He only needed to fill this last gem. Then he could summon Mathmeldi.
Another knock. Modyn angrily opened the door. The courier was still there.
"I need payment for this."
Modyn was about to throw some septims at him, but then he thought. He could fill the last soul gem with the soul of this courier.
"Come inside, I'll fetch the money. Make yourself comfortable."
Modyn slipped into a side room, and came out a few seconds later. The Courier had seated himself on a couch. Modyn walked behind him, and cast a soul trap spell, with the soul gem in his left hand, a dagger in his right. The courier started to move up, Modyn thrusted the dagger into the base of his skull.
Modyn didn't even bother cleaning up, he excitedly moved into his study, which had everything prepared. Modyn placed the last gem in its assigned location, and stood back.
"Mathmeldi... A anda as aba balais angua ehlnada... angua ada as Mathmeldis, Alata!"
Nothing. But Modyn felt the magicka leave his body.
"Mathmeldi... A anda as aba balais angua ehlnada... angua ada as Mathmeldis, Alata!"
Even more.
"Mathmeldi... A anda as aba balais angua ehlnada... angua ada as Mathmeldis, Alata!"
The ground started to shake.
"MATHMELDI... A ANDA AS ABA BALAIS ANGUA EHLNADA... ANGUA ADA AS MATHMELDIS, ALATA!"
And here he was. Mathmeldi the Traitor.
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Post by Endicott on Mar 7, 2015 20:59:12 GMT -5
Mist enshrouded the dingy room they were in, and the corpse-mage stood before Modyn looking sorely impressed, as always. Nirnians were always so lacking in all aspects, but at least this runt had put in some effort, he supposed. The shroud began to disperse, and Mathmeldi could see the man clearly. Modyn Seran. As part of his protection scheme, he kept tabs on most of the powerful mages in Tamriel and it's sister continents, but Modyn Seran was a minor member who barely had his name on the list. Could he have amounted to summoning Mathmeldi the Traitor himself? Another force had been at play here, and one much more vastly intellectual than himself... Mora was a viable suspect, but then again so were any powerful necromancers in the region. It didn't matter now; the man had dragged him through time and space to get here, the real test was whether he could serve Mathmeldi as an underling. A cloak of darkness covered the room as he began to speak, his decaying teeth on display and his voice an ominous echoing whisper...
"Modyn Seran... a pitifully weak mage, I had thought. Perchance I had misjudged you... we shall see. I require souls... many... many... souls... prove to me you and I are kin in darkness... bring me... souls..."
A glow of green shone in his skeletal hand as he seemed to disappear and was replaced by a tall, golden-skinned elf donning a set of typical clothing for a civlian in Sav au Morae. The once brittle threads of hair were now golden locks and the grotesquely rotting exposed smile was now white and covered by thin yellow lips. Something seemed wrong, however; he seemed to be almost... light-like. Translucent, in a way, yet any Nirn-dwelling human would be convinced he was an elf. Even the smell of diseased-flesh was now replaced by the sweet scent of Sload Soap. The stranger spoke softly and with elegance to Modyn, his hands laid leisurely by his sides. A devilishly-handsome front for a fiendishly-grotesque demon.
"You have the rest of the day to bring me five more souls. I'll do as I will in your minute little hovel of a town, and coordinate my grand scheme to harvest every... last... soul. Whether we are allies or enemies, you will serve me."
The old familiar green glow appeared in the elf's hand as a ball of magick energy was cast upon Modyn. It was a rather complex calming spell, and would ensure he didn't make this job any more difficult than it had to be.
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Salvahkiin
Archer
My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
Posts: 1,055
Likes: 4
|
Post by Salvahkiin on Mar 7, 2015 21:31:55 GMT -5
Modyn did not fear Mathmeldi, as most would. It comes with a deep desire of knowledge and power. Mathmeldi could impart knowledge thought lost to the ages, knowledge that could create or destroy empires. Mathmeldi only had one or two rivals on Nirn, the things he could learn from this Lich.
"Modyn Seran... a pitifully weak mage, I had thought. Perchance I had misjudged you... we shall see. I require souls... many... many... souls... prove to me you and I are kin in darkness... bring me... souls..."
"I will do whatever you desire, master."
Mathmeldi's skeletal hands started to glow green, and his body transformed. From a powerful Lich, to a beautiful elf.
"You have the rest of the day to bring me five more souls. I'll do as I will in your minute little hovel of a town, and coordinate my grand scheme to harvest every... last... soul. Whether we are allies or enemies, you will serve me."
The same green glow formed in Mathmeldi's hands, and it flew from his hands, to Modyn's body. Modyn felt particularly at ease now.
"Yes, master."
Modyn left the room, left his house, and found his way to the barracks. There were half a dozen guards resting. Modyn created some bullshit lie about an Imperial official wishing to inspect the guards. They followed him into his home.
"Mathmeldi! The guards you asked for."
Modyn directed them to his dining room. He locked the doors.
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Post by Endicott on Mar 7, 2015 22:12:14 GMT -5
The guise of the elf grinned from ear to ear invitingly, shaking the hands of each of the guards. The dining room was an appropriate place to bring them, and the irony was picturesque in Mathmeldi's sinister contention; their souls would be his feast.
"Gentlemen... it is regrettable I have to meet you all under these circumstances. It was my hope to discuss this in Cyrodil with the Emperor personally... but this will suffice."
"So... what's this all abou-"
Modyn grabbed one by the shoulder and began directing him down some stairwell, leading to what seemed like a dungeon. It was rather well-kept for a prison, but would serve Mathmeldi's purposes well. The men looked around, bewildered and confused, and Mathmeldi's hand glowed that same corpse-green that it did before, his skeletal hand seeming to show briefly as the casting stretched his magicka. The men seemed to shamble around, mumbling in delirium as a sick grin played upon Mathmeldi's fake elven face.
"The knife. I require it."
Like the subservient fool that he was, Modyn brought him the knife he had used to kill the courier and handed it to Mathmeldi. Like an artistic display, his hands danced around and their true skeletal form showed, purple and green glowing from them. Without even a bracing pause, the knife was thrust into each of their faces and their soul's essence seemed to flow from each of them to Mathmeldi's body; where they went, the Divines only know. Perhaps they went to the Ideal Masters, perhaps they increased Mathmeldi's power or perhaps they simply dispersed into the air. As their husks collapsed dead in the oddly pleasant dungeon, the elf's fake appearance melted away and the darkness of the undead demi-god's glory returned, as well as his pungent odour, looking reinvigorated... or as reinvigorated as a corpse could appear to be.
"You have... appeased my appetites, Seran... now... what business do you have with me, and who told you of the ritual? Choose... your words... wisely."
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Salvahkiin
Archer
My Siren's name is Brick, and she is the prettiest.
Posts: 1,055
Likes: 4
|
Post by Salvahkiin on Mar 8, 2015 2:43:07 GMT -5
"Gentlemen... it is regrettable I have to meet you all under these circumstances. It was my hope to discuss this in Cyrodil with the Emperor personally... but this will suffice."
"So... what's this all abou-"
Modyn grabbed the closest guard, and led him down the stairs, towards his basement slash dungeon. It was particularly quiet, and would serve for the ritual. Modyn felt rather complacent around Mathmeldi, whether it was the calming spell he was under, or Modyn's own madness, it would be hard to tell.
"The knife. I require it."
Modyn drew the knife from his belt, and placed it in Mathmeldi's hand. Subservience isn't too difficult, Modyn thought to himself. Mathmeldi killed the guardsmen with the blade, and then seemingly drained the life out of them. They crumpled to the floor. He had known these men for quite a few years, and he carefully picked them, as these were slackers, not enthusiastic about guarding all that Modyn held dear.
"You have... appeased my appetites, Seran... now... what business do you have with me, and who told you of the ritual? Choose... your words... wisely."
Modyn thought for a moment, as Mathmeldi had commanded.
"Hermaeus Mora told me of a way to gain power. He gave me a list of ingredients necessary for a ritual. He also said that the being that would appear was very powerful. I want to learn from you, become as powerful as my form allows."
Hermaeus, of course, would want something. He, for some reason or another, did not ask for something straight away, but Daedric Princes always get their way, perhaps Mora wanted Mathmeldi's secrets, and to aquire those, Modyn would need to serve under him, as an apprentice of some sort.
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