On the road near a small town, an incredibly detailed statue stands depicting a mer in a state of running away from something. Her dress is stiff against the breeze, and her arms and legs are outstretched in such a manner that she really should have tipped over by now as this really doesn’t look very well balanced.
You know, if I were a sculptor, I might just carve incredibly detailed statues in alarming poses and put them in strange places. As it is, this is probably just a petrification effect and not a prankster artist. High elves don’t strike me as having nearly the sort of sense of humor that would go in for that sort of thing.
Curious, I touch the statue to see if I can tip her over, but not only does she not budge, the ‘stone’ is actually warm to the touch. Could she still be alive underneath this? De-petrifying people is honestly beyond me, but maybe I’ll be able to find out more in town.
Other statues dot the town, similarly in improbable poses such as begging and weeping. One robed mer, however, is still moving around. He introduces himself as Merormo, and I make him repeat that and spell it for me as I write it down because damned am I going to go around thinking of anyone else as ‘M-name’ if I can help it.
“So, let me get this straight,” I say. “There’s animals around here that, thanks to some weirdness, are normally peaceful… and now they’re highly aggressive and potentially possessed… and your first instinct was to turn the people to stone instead of the animals?”
“Well, uh…” Merormo stammers. “I kind of panicked and I don’t think the spell would work on aggressive, possessed animals anyway. It’s basically just a souped-up Stoneskin spell.”
I put my face in my palm. “Okay, wellllll, this was incredibly stupid but this is apparently the situation we have to deal with. Please tell me this is a problem that can be solved with hitting something? Because I’m not sure I know how to de-possess a bunch of wild animals short of slaughtering them all.”
“Oh, no no no, that shouldn’t be necessary.” He starts describing some energy flows of some magic rocks in the forest and I interrupt him as he starts getting too technical and getting suspiciously insistent that no true Altmer would ever consider consorting with Daedra. Right.
“You want me to go dispel Daedric energies from magic rocks?” I ask. “How? Do I look like a mage to you? Why didn’t you just do this yourself?”
“There’s… dangerous animals out there,” Merormo argues weakly. At my look, he quickly says, “I can show you the trick to it. It isn’t that difficult. Any mer should be able to do it, even if you can only light a candle or heal a bruise.”
“That’s a fair assessment of my magical ability,” I say. “But fine. Show me. This might be useful at some point that doesn’t involve cleaning up the mess you were— you know, I don’t even feel like lecturing you right now. Maybe later.”
He instructs me in a simple dispelling spell, and I head out into the forest to wave glowing hands at standing stones with weird swirly markings on them until they no longer glow red. I do wind up having to dispatch some of the local wildlife along the way, but I manage to avoid the majority of them. I also run across a tent with another chapter of Triumphs of a Monarch and a box full of tiny jars of salve for some reason. Possibly a criminal dead drop? I get the distinct feeling these were stolen. I shove them in my pack to either use or fence later. (I wonder if these were made with salloweed? The label says they’re for joint pain.)
Not too far from the final magic rock, there’s a tower and a Skyshard gleaming next to a well. Given the apparent aim that led to so many of these things winding up in caves, I’m lucky it didn’t fall into the well. I absorb it, by which point Merormo has caught up with me. I’m surprised that he stopped pissing himself long enough to do so, given that whatever it was that I did to the magic rocks, it didn’t work and the animals are still glowing red and snarling at every bush. At least I assume glowing red is bad.
“Did I do it wrong?” I ask.
“No, I think we’re going to need to do something more,” Merormo says, rubbing his beard. “I want to try extracting the Daedric essence directly from one of the animals.”
“Soooo, you want me to stand there and keep its attention while you fiddle around with magic, or what?” I ask.
“No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ve been researching the monoliths and have been able to reproduce their effects on a smaller scale. Here, take this gem and use it on one of the animals. That should calm it down and make it follow you for a while. Sadly the effect is only temporary.”
I reluctantly take the magic rock from him. “Right, and I’m sure your mysterious research didn’t cause this mysterious effect, either. I’m sure you took every precaution when dealing with magic you don’t understand.”
“Er… yes, yes, of course,” Merormo says hastily. “I’ll just be inside the tower waiting for you to get back.”
With a sigh, I obligatorily go out and wave the magic rock at one of the bears. It is spectacularly unimpressed and I wind up having to hit it in the face a few times before the gem works and it stops trying to maul me. It is very disconcerting to be standing next to a large animal whose eyes and body are glowing red that isn’t trying to maul me. Best hurry this back to Merormo before it changes its mind.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
When I return to the tower with my dubious ‘friend’, Merormo directs it over to a ritual platform surrounded by candles and starts doing some magic in its general direction. Momentarily, the bear bursts into flames and collapses into a rain of ash, and then a fire atronach emerges from the ash and it also collapses into ash.
“Tell me that wasn’t what you were trying to do,” I ask Merormo dryly.
“It could have definitely gone better,” Merormo mutters. “Something is interfering.”
He directs me to a nearby cave where he claims he can sense a more powerful Daedra who is doing… something. I’m quickly getting the urge to hit Merormo as I go off to take care of this, too, naturally without him at my back. Not that I particularly want him at my back. He’d probably turn me to stone and claim it makes me more durable or something.
I locate the cave in question, or at least I think it’s the right cave, given that there are two Altmer laying on the ground outside of it. One of them is probably dead, and the other looks weak but is still breathing. I cast a bit of healing magic at her and give her one of my home-brew potions (or not-actually-brewed-in-my-home home-brew, at any rate), in hopes that one of those will help the blood loss at least.
The woman’s name is Anenwen, and she’s quite (understandably) angry with Merormo. According to her, this was all his fault. “He was trying to create possessed animal soldiers,” she explains.
I put my face in my palm. “I knew this couldn’t be a coincidence, given how he mentioned his experiments with the magic rocks.”
“And he didn’t even mention me?” Anenwen growls. “There’s a stronger Daedra in this cave who is controlling the animals now. I hope you can handle it yourself because it’ll be all I can do to concentrate on remaining conscious, never mind fight.”
“I can handle it,” I assure her.
The cave is full of fire atronachs, but at the back of it I find a female Dremora who is presumably the ‘stronger’ Daedra. I kill her and return to the surface, mildly more singed than I was when I went in.
My shitty healing potion seems to have done its job well enough that Anenwen can walk, either that or she was hurt less badly than she looked and is just very determined. We head back to town, Anenwen muttering about making Merormo pay along the way. Fortunately, killing the Dremora has removed her influence over the animals and they are now much more placid than normal bears and wolves would be. They don’t attack us or even shy away and it’s honestly kind of creepy.
Back in town (Shattered Grove is apparently its name), Anenwen berates Merormo and demands that the townspeople be restored immediately. And Merormo does restore them immediately: In one blinding flash of white, all the statues are moving and breathing again. Dayamn. That’s impressive. I might not be well-versed in the arcane, but even I can tell that’s powerful magic. It’s too bad that it’s in the hands of a bleeding idiot.
Anenwen restrains Merormo with a spell to keep him from escaping. Merormo, for his part, starts begging me for mercy, fearing execution if his part in this were to become known to the canonreeve. (You know, at this point, I think canonreeves aren’t just library keepers.)
“You are highly gifted with the art of transfiguration magic,” I say. “Why are you wasting your time trying to turn possessed bears into army when you can turn an army to stone?”
“I… look, it can only be cast on friendly targets,” Merormo protests. “My plan would have let us not have to risk the lives of our own people. Even if I used the normal version of that spell to protect our people, it would still require going into danger myself along with our soldiers.”
“Coward,” Anenwen spits.
“Like you put everyone nearby in danger with your guar-brained scheme?” I ask. “It would only be fitting to undertake penance in such a way.”
Merormo sighs. “Penance is infinitely preferable to execution, true.”
“Now, I might be persuaded to spin your story here to one that didn’t involve you summoning a bunch of Daedra to possess animals that attacked people,” I say. “I might omit that tiny detail. But…” I leave my sentence hanging expectantly.
“Do want me to sign up for the war in Cyrodiil?” Merormo asks quietly.
I make a face. “I’m not entirely convinced that the war in Cyrodiil is a reasonable one myself, but I don’t know enough about it to judge. No, I don’t think you should go to war. I think you should pay penance by actually helping people. You’re a mage, and a powerful one, if that statue spell is any indication. You can do better than this.”
“Yes,” Merormo agrees quickly. “I can help people. I can absolutely help people.”
“And no more dangerous experiments,” I say pointedly.
“Of course, of course.”
“If you can turn people to stone and back, you can also heal,” I say.
“Alteration and Restoration are completely different schools of magic,” Merormo protests, then softens. “But I get your point.”
I give a look to Anenwen, who releases the spell holding Merormo in place.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Anenwen says. “This scum shouldn’t get away with this.”
“Oh, he won’t,” I say. “And he should be well aware that should he try to nix his way out of this and disappear, I won’t be giving him a stay of execution next time I see him.”
Anenwen gives me an odd look. “Nix?”
Crap, they don’t even have nix-hounds around here, do they? “Like a nix-hound? If he dug himself any deeper he’d have to kwama his way out of it.”
Anenwen snorts in amusement. “I get it.”
I go over to speak with the canonreeve, who is regaining her wits although still clearly confused about the situation. Straightening my back, I put on my best Hortator bearing to project the image of authority, like someone who needs to be listened to rather than someone who is simply good at hitting things with an axe.
“What just happened here?” asks Canonreeve… crap, I forgot to ask for her name.
“Merormo was studying the monoliths in the forest in order to determine how they function,” I say. “He made a mistake.” I give a sidelong glare at Merormo. “And accidentally made the animals aggressive, so he turned everyone to stone temporarily to protect them while he fixed it.”
“Merormo…” the canonreeve says in a dangerous tone. “And who might you be?”
“Neralion, an agent of the Queen sent to deal with the situation,” I say. “And Merormo is very sorry for his mistake and is coming with me to Skywatch to pay penance in the Queen’s service.”
“Good,” the canonreeve says. “I’m glad to hear Queen Ayrenn is looking out for her people.”
I feel that earning the Queen some goodwill might be more effective than simply killing whatever racist bandits I come across. It’s not going to make them less racist, but it might make them less likely to commit blatant treason. That’s something, right? I hope that’s something.