The battle of the ages. The culminating conflict of the Nerevarine’s journey. Or so the Nerevarine thought. This particular form Dagoth Ur conjured to guard the doom drum’s antechamber was little more than a test of mettle, to see if the Nerevarine was truly ready to gaze upon his true form - and worthy of facing and falling to his full power. Despite being her adversary, Dagoth Ur had to admit the Nerevarine’s skill with the hammer far exceeded all who came before her. Her strikes were precise, her every step calculated. Sunder was composed to be a tool, but its utility as a weapon was apparent in her hands. “But”, the Sharmat reasoned, “it will be of no consequence in the end. What is skill with blunt weaponry in the face of tuning reality to suit my designs”. A strong strike to the knee, and the facsimile is made lame. He took one last, seemingly desperate swipe at her ankle, attempting to keep up the illusion of this being his true form. She deftly skipped over it, and dealt the final blow to that form. The sharmat opened his eyes in the heart chamber. His facsimile had fallen, but the illusion remained. “Quite the show of skill”, he thought. “Truly worthy of the title of Hortator and Nerevarine, I must say. She suits her title’s namesake quite well. But again, it is of no true consequence. I am a god, after all. More powerful than the fickle and distant daedra, and wiser than any of the false Tribunal. She will be ash on the ground as quick as my guardian facsimile was felled.” The antechamber door opened, and this time Dagoth Ur made for the first blow. “What a fool you are.” he said, as he released a firestorm. “I’m a god. How can you kill a god?” She dodged, and started her charge. “What a grand and intoxicating innocence!” He cast a firestorm more powerful than the last. “How could you be so naïve?” She deftly dodged the firestorm once more, but the blast clearly wounded her. Nonetheless, she readied her hammer to strike as she continued her charge. “There is no escape. No recall or intervention can work in this place!” When she came in range, she brought Sunder crashing down upon Dagoth Ur. A deathly blow for even the heartiest of mortals. Unfortunately for her, however, Dagoth Ur had not known mortality since the Merethic era, and the hammer simply bounced. Seizing the opportunity, he grabbed her neck and threw her against the heart chamber’s wall. “Come. Lay down your weapons. It is not too late for my mercy.” She scrambled for a health potion, her eyes wide with fear. She was not prepared for this second encounter, not so soon after the first. “A pity, really.” Thought Dagoth Ur. “Perhaps she was not ready to face my true form so soon after fighting my weakened self. It does not matter. Wraithguard will be mine, Akulakhan will be completed, and the dunmer will achieve their full potential under my guiding hand. What shall I name this continent once all whom inhabit it call me lord? Tamriel is an unsuitable name, made by cowards who cling to impotent divines. Perhaps I shall name it sharmat? For once all who inhabit it call me lord, all shall be me, and I shall be all.” Dagoth Ur brought his attention back to reality. “The future can come next”, he reasoned. “First, the Nerevarine must die.” He saw her slowly backing herself towards the door. “Attempting to run? Are you so foolish as to believe I will let you run and lap away at your wounds? You are no successor to Nerevar. He did not run from the fight, and you shame his legacy by doing so.” She turned and ran, and lord Dagoth gave chase. She had moved quite close to the door while he dreamt of his future for the continent, and she was through it in a flash. Dagoth Ur was quick, and just as the door closed behind her, Dagoth Ur threw it open. But, most curiously, no Nerevarine was there to be incinerated. The antechamber was completely empty. The Sharmat advanced forward cautiously, wary of past tricks at the hands of those concealed by chameleon. Nothing. He had learned to see through such illusions long ago. So where could she have gone? There truly was no recall or intervention that could work in this place, he had worked hard to prevent such cowardice as running away. And yet the Nerevarine had still managed to vanish. As he advanced further into the room, he head something drop to the ground. He whipped around just in time to see the Nerevarine run through the door again. The Nerevarine had hidden herself on top of the door just long enough to confuse Dagoth Ur. “A good plan, to hide and trick me in such a manner so you can get a head start to the heart.” Dagoth Ur thougth aloud. “But it is in this place that I am strongest. You can run as fast as you like, but there will be no escape from me.” Attempting to open the door to follow through with this threat, he was met with the most curious sensation: the door would not budge. He pushed again. Nothing. Pushed again, harder this time. Nothing. He started banging on the door, trying to knock it down with his strength. Nothing again. “What is this? What are you doing!?” He yelled out. He threw all of his godly might at the ornate dwemer door, and yet it did not budge. Dagoth Ur called for one of his lieutenants. “Endus!” He shouted. Dagoth Endus heeded his call and recalled to his side.
“Yes, my great and powerful lo-“
“Endus, tell me what this is!” Endus considered his words carefully. He was brother to the Sharmat, but that status could be claimed from him at any time. He stood from his kneel, and pushed on the door.
“A uh. A locked door, my lord.”
“Locked?”
“Yes. Locked. You called me here to ask me if a door was locked?”
“This is MY stronghold, my NAME is on the front door! I have the ability to warp reality in this room, and yet that door is LOCKED!?”
“It would uh. It would seem so. The Nerevarine is blessed with powers from Azura herself. Perhaps she-”
“Don’t tell me what Azura can or cannot do! I am the ruler of this stronghold, I control it with an iron fist, and yet that door is locked still!”
“Yes, lord Dagoth, I unders-“
“Do you? Do you really? Do you truly understand this issue?”
“I feel like you’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Out of proportion!?”
“There are ways you can go about unlocking doors. You know that, right?”
“But WHY is it locked, Endus?! Tell me why it’s locked before I cut off your Ancient Dagoth Brandy supply!”
“Please don’t say things like that. Please? I really don’t like it when you threaten my brandy supply, especially when the reason it’s being threatened isn’t my fault.”
“I don’t CARE Endus, how in Oblivion am I going to get to the Nerevarine through a locked door?”
“Well you COULD have made exceptions for mark and recall within the heart chamber as well as the antechamber.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“And what if the Nerevarine had run like a coward?”
“If you were really so worried about that happening, then you could have just guarded Akulakhan’s door yourself instead of making a weaker copy and we wouldn’t be having this problem now would we?”
“But the DRAMA, Endus! The PROPHECY!”
“Okay, every second we spend arguing about why the door is locked is a second she gets closer to the heart.”
“Fine Endus. But after she is a bunch of ashes on the ground, you will have your brandy supply halved for the fifty years!”
“Fifteen!”
“Thirty!”
“This isn’t my fault! Twenty-five!”
“FINE! If you help me get it open, it’s twenty-five years.”
“I’ll take it.”
“So. How do we get this door open?”
“Hmm.” Dagoth Endes pondered this carefully. “Well there’s a few ways to unlock doors. Two, really. You can either pick the lock or use magic. I remember hearing some people in Daggerfall could actually break locks, but-“
“I don’t give a shit about what some people in Daggerfall can do, I want this door OPEN!”
“Okay, okay. You really don’t have to be this way, you know?”
“You know DAMN well BOTH of our lives are very much at stake right now! GET THE DOOR OPEN!”
“Okay, you’re in a mood today. Give magic a shot. I am not nearly as powerful as you are in the magical arts, so I will leave it to you.”
Dagoth Ur stood there with a look entirely alien to his face.
“What is it, my lord?”
“I-“
“What? Wait a second. No. No way. It simply isn’t possible.”
“I only studied under destruction tutors! I was youthful and full of fire, and I wanted to express that!”
“You haven’t studied the slightest amount of alteration?”
“No, I haven’t! Alteration is for lame-asses who want to breathe underwater and like reading books about it!”
“Breathing water is a classic tale and lesson on alteration magic and you know it!”
“If you like it so much then why don’t you do it!?”
“I will!”
Dagoth Endes stepped up to the door, and prepared to cast his spell of open. Surely the Nerevarine was only truly a master of the war hammer, a one trick pony with only a little dabbling in the magical arts.
“Lord Dagoth! Once I crack this lock, it’s fifteen years you gut my brandy supply!”
“Fine!” Dagoth Ur sulked back
Dagoth Endes readied and cast his open spell. Surely it would work. Surely? But, try as he might, the door was sealed still.
“No. No no no, this isn’t right. Hold on, let me try something a little stronger.”
Dagoth Endes focused harder, and readied ondusi’s unhinging. Surely this was the skeleton key he needed? But, the door was yet sealed.
“How is the alteration going over there, Dagoth Fishes!”
“You named me yourself! How dare you call me Dagoth Fishes!”
“That’s the new punishment! You will be called Dagoth Fishes and you still get your brandy supply cut for the next twenty five years.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Is that how you address your lord?” Dagoth Ur said with a dangerous tone.
“Sorry.” Dagoth Fishes said with a meek tone.
“I thought so, Dagoth Fishes. Now, how goes the alteration, Dagoth Fishes?”
“Poorly.” The newly christened Dagoth Fishes gritted through his teeth
“Blast it!”
“We can’t blast the door, lord Dagoth.”
“I know we can’t, I made sure even I couldn’t. I meant that as an exclamation. Honestly, you fail to understand even the most simple subtext, perhaps I should cut your supply of brandy for the next 50 years after all. It would do your mind some good.”
“My alcoholism isn’t a factor here, but a factor IS the Nerevarine getting closer and closer to the heart while we bicker.”
“Fine, fine! Lockpicks. Can we pick the door?”
“Well, do we have any lockpicks on hand, my lord?”
“No, but- wait! Wait! The Nerevarine dropped one! Ha! Her inept mistake shall be her ultimate downfall!”
“Aha! Unlock it, and your prize awaits you by the heart!”
“Unlock it I shall.”
Dagoth Ur took the delicate lockpick into his clawed hands. He strained his memory, thought of his time in service to the great Nerevar. Vivec. He was a street urchin, taught Dagoth Ur a few tricks of the trade that he might be skilled in the more subtle, sleight arts. How fitting, he thought. The teachings of Vivec would be his own downfall in some manner. The sharmat, now remembering what Vivec taught him so long ago, positioned the lockpick in his hand like a pencil, found the lock, and focused on the lock. Dagoth Endes drew closer, wishing to see this unseen side of his master. Dagoth Ur inserted the pick, and proceeded to completely blank on everything Vivec had ever said about how to pick locks. Something about pins? Dead pins? Stiff springs? Panicked, and trying to look clever for his disciple, he started scratching the inside of the lock. Predictably, the pick snapped. Right in the inner workings of the lock. The sound that mild steel made as it was rended felt like it was audible for miles. Dagoth Ur and Dagoth Endes were stock still. Not a breath was taken. Not a muscle moved. Dagoth Ur, knelt as he was over the lock, didn’t know what to do. Dagoth Endes, bent closely to watch his master at work, didn’t know what to say. The silence could have been cut by the roughest, most poorly crafted chitin shortsword. Dagoth Endes decided to break the silence.
“Lord Dagoth?” He said, tentatively.
“Yeah?” Replied Lord Dagoth.
Endes stood in silence for a moment. He felt the defeat in that simple word. Not a single one of his disciples had ever heard such a word from behind the mask. They would all be dead before he could ever say it again.
“What was that?”
“I think the pick snapped in the lock.”
“There was another one, right?”
Another long, palpable silence.
“No.”
“What do we do?”
“I, ah. I don-“
In that moment, the air changed. The Nerevarine had succeeded. Dagoth Ur could feel his power waning, just as Endes did as well.
“Lord Dagoth, I have one last thing we can do!”
“Your alcoholic ass is co-“
“BREAK DOWN THE DOOR, DROP WHATEVER POWER WE HAVE LEFT ON THE NEREVARINE! TAKE HER WITH US!”
As the magic the sharmat had cast upon the door broke, so did the door and Endes. He collapsed to the ground, quickly dying. His very being had become fused to Dagoth Ur, fused to the heart. The heart was gone, Dagoth was going, and so his servants were dust on the ground. Dagoth Ur soldiered down, knowing this was his last chance to kill the nerevarine. As he reached the bridge that connected the inner cavern walls to the great Akulakhan, he saw the Nerevarine just across the bridge. He made his last charge. Claw her eyes out, destroy her heart for destroying his. But just as they met at the middle of the bridge, the nerevarine cast another spell. A modified, stronger version of timur’s hotpad. She leapt all the way back to the entrance, and all the former lord Dagoth could do was stand in awe. “This is the end. The bitter, bitter end.”