Spellbooks

Old and generally outdated discussions, with the rare hidden gem. Enter at your own risk.

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Skurvy
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Post by Skurvy »

Same here - i have a couple still in the works, but ive been rather busy of late and dont seem to have any time to concentrate on writing :( Mebbe sometime soon.

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Post by Arcadea »

need help?
I said I would return and I may have been right. The past must stay in the past as agreed. If the core needs me or has a job for me just ask for now I watch and write.

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Skurvy
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Post by Skurvy »

Just RL interfering at the moment - attempting to find a house to move to so that i dont have to do computer timesharing with three other people!!

My access is limited at times, plus ive offered to do a LOT of stuff at various places round the net (most of them ES related) so i have to divide my time somewhat!!

Fear not, SpellBooks and BoT will come soon(ish)!!

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Post by Geowulf »

You don't have to have all spells completed before releasing something. You could release parts of the spellbooks project and add it to BoT on a regular basis. Of course you'll have to be sure everything is nicely balanced before you do that.
Read the Books of Tamriel @ http://geowulf.tamriel-rebuilt.org

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Zephyr
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Post by Zephyr »

summary: Two Dunmer adventurers meet an old acquaintance with a grudge.


notes:
This story assumes that there's a small village (several shacks, one cell) in the western coast of the zenithar channel, somewhere near the swampy areas. It also assumes that there's a figher's guild in gah'ruhn and that there's an ebony mine somewhere near riverbridge, and that there's a blind weaponsmith named Trilan Vules in Gah'Ruhn.

Also, Trilan Vules should be able to give a quest for pc to explore the indrano tomb somewhere in the Shargon Hills (closer location is unknown to him, but perhaps some dunmer in Gah'Ruhn belongs to Indrano family and knows its whereabouts). The quest is to search for dravil and halgur there, or at least the Orkogoth armor (cuirass, average level uniq. item). Dravil & halgur are dead, but there's a whole bunch of smugglers in that dungeon.

Meeting across the river
Bound Mace 20 sec

Chapter 1 - A trip through the woods

"Those bloody n'wah! What in the name of Almsivi shall we do now?", shouted Dravil.

"We can't get them back, now can we? Or do you suppose we should try to hunt them down naked?", answered Halgur.

The two dunmer were walking down on a hillside, just about to pass through some swampy forest filled with the nasty sound of flies, frogs and scribs. While arguing, they were still rather understanding of each other, at least taken account of the situation.

"Well, yes, and no, you see - we will take our stuff back, but not whilst down to our underpants! We shall go to the town, get some new armor and a couple of sharp blades, and then we'll show them!"

"Oh, and how do you suppose we do that? Go about and rob some hard-working smith of their prized creations or steal the family heirlooms from some poor farmer?"

"No, I still have a few septims at my stash, and I know the weaponsmith at Gah'Ruhn. A chitin bow will do for me, for starters."

"Very well then", Halgur finally agreed, scratching his sweating, scarred back.

Halgur was a rather young dunmer lad, only in his early twenties. His face was a fair bit darker than even those of living in Vvardenfell, but for a dunmer living in mainland, he was truly a strange sight. His hair was up to his shoulders, as thick as his color was dark. His attracting looks, however, did not help for him being a bit clumsier, slower and shorter than his pal, Dravil, who looked just like everyone else and was proficient in no particular trade save for archery, which he had mastered already as a child.

Dravil had been regarded as the worst mischief of Aleoon, a small fishing village on the western side of the Zenithar Channel after he had, by accident, shot a fisherman in the eye, while playing with a practice short bow. The fisherman went blind and the young rascal was sent away to Riverbridge for a couple of years for extra training in the arts of war, as the villagers said. Dravil, on the other hand, regarded the excursion more as a work camp for the Empire's ebony mine.

He had met Halgur in a Gah'Ruhn's Fighter's Guild recruitment line, and both had decided not to work for cheap to the Empire, but to seek their own fortune from the tombs and towers of Shargon Hills. After a while of adventuring, they had entered a burial tomb of Indrano family, and been shortly afterwards robbed to their last piece of loot, weapon and other assorted possession by a band of raiders.

They were now passing the miles to Gah'Ruhn after crossing the ford of Cotchorn Isle, wearing only the ragged robes Dravil had kept in his stash for long after some grave robbery.


Chapter 2 - An encounter in the store

Miles passed slowly. They could not afford food supplies at Aleoon, so there was not much point in resting on the journey, but found some comberries from a forest and wild saltrice on the shores of Zenithar Channel, which they ate with delight. After three days of weary, tiresome travel, they finally arrived at Gah'Ruhn and to the smith, Trilan Vules.

Halgur and Dravil went in to a modest-looking shop, which did not have an anvil, forge or any of the tools of a smith, just a range of weapons from small daggers and knives to iron claymores and from shortbows and darts to wooden longbows. As usual, the shopkeeper lived upstairs and the staircase took a turn to the right so that one could not see directly to the bedroom. There was no door there, though.

Near the shelves, several crates were full of arrows, and while not all in a good shape, they could still be used as deadly weapons in right hands. As far as Dravil was concerned, his hands were as right as any's, and picked up several dozen of rusty, heavy iron-tipped arrows and put them to the counter, along with a chitin short bow which he had previously picked up. He stood beside the counter and Trilan began to talk:

"So, since when have priests of Almalexia started to wield bows and practice dark arts of destruction?". Dravil raised his head from under the hood and replied,

"I am no monk of any god, my friend, but let that not stand between me, you and the grace of Almsivi. As you might notice, we've been, eh, robbed while visiting some burial grounds as pilgrims. Muthsera, I hope you don't hold any grudge against us, for we will deliver the promise!"

Trilan stood still for a brief moment, just staring at the moment-ago and ordinary monk and now an old acquaintance. Although astonished, the man behind the counter quickly got back to his senses and his face turned to red, although that might be hard to believe for a Dunmer. In a booming voice, he shouted:

"What have you done to my armor? My precious, precious Orkogoth! My sword? Where is my sword? Do you have any idea how many septims I paid for it?" Swiftly, Trilan took two black, short blades from under the counter and struck one right next to Dravil's hand. It hit him just barely, but enough to cause immediate pain. Dravil fainted and dropped to the floor.

Halgur, who had been looking through the shelves for a suitable sword turned around, picked up a set of darts and threw one straight at Trilan. He missed, and while reaching for a sword, he said:

"We did not come here to kill or steal, but buy equipment in benevolence! Yet when my friend reveals his face, you poison him and accuse of theft!" Halgur had now a broadsword in his hand, and pointed it at Trilan. "We need not suffer the likes of you. Hear me - you give him medicine now, or you will bleed and I will find the medicine myself. Whatever you hold against good Dravil we will discuss and do as we all see fit. Speak now!"

"Bah! Why do you choose to have sides in our quarrel? You have no knowledge of what he has done to me, what he has taken from me! Put down your sword and let happen what has been put to motion. I have no medicine, no, not for him."

Halgur did not hesitate - he pushed the sword forward along Trilan's neck, opening a deep cut in the shopkeeper's skin. He moved away to the wall, dropped the poisonous blade from his right hand and pressed it against the wound, cursing and moaning. It was nowhere near lethal, though, and he could still speak, although the voice was much weaker than that deep, scary sound of few minutes ago.

"Well, then, do you still refuse to do as I ask, a small deed compared to a life of either you, a cursed fetcher, or my dear friend Dravil? Surely you have some roobrush and Scrib jelly in your herb bag. Get up now, keep your hands in the air and come here", said Halgur.

Trilan got up slowly, supporting himself with the left arm and holding the wound with right. He went to the staircase and started walking slowly up, and although Halgur told to raise his hands, he refused to do so. While not in full control of the situation, this was enough for Halgur. When they got upstairs, Halgur saw a simple, worn bed on his left, a set of barrels and bags on his right, and in the front a bookshelf and drawers. There were not too many books on it, but then, everything else in the house was simple as well. Trilan sat down on the bed and said,

"The herbs are in those bags in the corner. If you would be kind enough, you could take that scroll from the shelf too, and read it to me. It's for healing the cut."

"Very well", Halgur replied. "But only after I have healed Dravil. Come with me downstairs and don't do anything stupid, so this'll be over with."

Halgur went to Dravil, crushed the roobrush leaves in his hand and mixed it with the still wobbling jelly and spread it along the cut in Dravil's hand. They waited for several minutes, and Dravil finally started to wake up. Halgur turned to Trilan and thanked him, although the tone was not that of a genuine care or appreciation. Trilan then asked Halgur to read the scroll for him, since he was no longer able to get much voice out of his throat anymore. The blood was starting to come out through between his fingers, too, and it seemed he had waited too long.

Dravil got up just as Halgur had opened the scroll and had started to read the ancient runes. He did not know the Daedric writing or the gods for that matter, but he did know how to read out a healing spell - those had come in handy during his time in the ebony mine of Riverbridge. The mantra of this scroll was not anything like those had been. When he had realized this, it was already too late - the conjuration was complete. None of the damage was cured in Trilan's body, but in his left hand, a mace had appeared out of nowhere. To an outsider, it would have looked like a weapon from the gods. To Dravil, it looked like it was just about to smash its way through Halgur's chest.

Halgur had put down his sword and did not have time to react as the mace flied in the air to his right side. Dravil took a bow from the counter and a couple of arrows, drew them and hesitated for a fleeting while. Both of them were his friends, or at least had once been. It was apparent, though, that Trilan had taken the loss of his beloved family heirloom, an armor borrowed to his appentrice, a bit too heavily and would not be satisfied by promises of having it back. Dravil released the arrows.

Chapter 3 - Retreat to the river

Halgur was limp and Trilan lay down on the floor with an arrow in both of his eyes. He was not dead, thanks for the blunt heads of the arrows he had been selling, but rendered blind. Dravil ran to Halgur, cut his robe open and saw a crushed right side of the chest. It seemed that all of the lower ribs were broken and went through the lung. He was still alive, though, although his heartbeat was slowing down by the second. Dravil took a key from Trilan's pocket, opened a chest behind the counter with it, took the money and ran outside the shop to the Almsivi temple.

The healer of the temple seemed to be gone, so Dravil just went in to his room, took all the bottles he could find there, emptied the money bag and stuffed the potions in, then ran back to Trilan's store. The scene had not turned to better or worse - both Halgur and Trilan were still lying on the floor. Dravil took a bottle of a healing liquid and spread it across Halgur's right breast, and put another bottle to his mouth, rose his head and let the medicine work on the bruised body for a while. Dravil locked the door of the store, shut the windows and waited.

After a few hours, Halgur finally started to wake up. Trilan had started moaning and screaming a while earlier, and Dravil had tied him up so not to attract any unwanted attention. It was getting late, but since neither of the two had had a good night's sleep for several days, Dravil carried Halgur to the bed upstairs, drunk some flin and guarded his friend for the night.

In the morning, Halgur was able to walk just fine. Trilan was still well tied, both from his arms and legs, as well as from his mouth and eyes, just to save the pain of looking at two bleeding eyes. He was left dying as Halgur and Dravil took the supplies they had come for in the first place and went out of the shop to travel back to the tomb of Indrano for a swift revenge.
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Earl
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Post by Earl »

Earl wrote:They're just coming out too bland.
Demoralize Humanoid

On The Move
The Autobiography of an Orc Volume VIII
By Orgol gro-Muk

Hammerfell was a nice province, as provinces go, but things there had become too interesting for Ma'Dar and myself. The honorable thing to do would have been to regroup at our Dwemer hideout, and plot to rescue our fellow smugglers from their Imperial captors. However, as is often the case, the honorable thing to do and the smart thing to do weren't the same thing. Besides which, how great of a rescue could we have mounted?

Still, I felt guilty for abandoning my friends. Of course, walking south without a drake to our names, and living off the land has a tendency to put one in a bleak, guilty sort of mood. Add that to the fact that we were walking south, toward the Imperial province, the self-proclaimed center of civilization in Tamriel, and more importantly the center for Imperial law, and you can understand why my spirits weren't too high.

When I asked Ma'Dar again if we really had to go this way, she responded as she always did: "Ma'Dar knows, and Ma'Dar doesn't like it either. But try to think fuzzy thoughts -- Cyrodiil is a big province. Big provinces have big problems. They don't have time to worry about a couple of Ja'Khajiit like us. We'll just slip quietly by Rihad and Anvil, and then we'll be in Valenwood. It's a wild place, but the Imperial arm doesn't reach very far in the forest, and that's what matters."

I contemplated that for a moment, then said "And the Bosmer... they're light-fingered mer. We might be able to find employment there."

Ma'Dar stopped walking, and studied my face. Her bright, clever eyes twinkling, she purred "A clever Orc you are, to say this without having to fortify your intelligence. Ma'Dar thinks maybe you are only unlearned, and not..." she trailed off, realizing the insult that train of thought ended in. "This is good," she said hastily "it means Ma'Dar might not have to worry about the big, silly Orc getting himself lost again."

She was right - I hadn't used an intelligence enhancer for quite a while. I still used them when I wrote in my journal, but other than that I was relying more and more on myself. And as we drew away from civilization, it dawned on me that I was a much better outdoorsman than Ma'Dar. Her area of expertise centered on thieving in a city, which didn't adjust well to roughing it in the wilderness. I hadn't had time to contemplate, and really realize how much I'd changed.

We passed just east of Rihad without event. As we walked parallel to the road south to Anvil, I motioned Ma'Dar to halt. We had run out of water two days ago, and the constant march was wearing on us. Gratefully, she sat down on a cool rock. I looked around, then nodded.

"There are some gourds over there, in the brush sprouting up by the forest. If they've been growing there for a few generations, there might be a few dry, hollow ones. We could use them as canteens, and we're still close to the river south of... of Rihad." As I finished, I realized how strange those words coming out of my mouth sounded. Seeing my confusion, Ma'Dar's ears flattened in amusement. I quietly and quickly went off to check the gourds, and found three likely subjects. When I returned after filling them, Ma'Dar had something to say.

"My friend, Ma'Dar thinks that all that fortification has rubbed off on you. But that's not quite right, is it?" I shifted uncomfortably, "The insight it would give you... some tiny bit of it stayed with you every time. Not whole big ideas, just little parts you could sink your claws into." she paused to take a drink "But you'd used fortification so much, those little bits added up. Now you understand so many little parts, you're smart without fortification."

I hesitated. "I don't think I'm that smart. I couldn't imagine what you just said, for one thing. But now that you said it, I see what you mean..." I felt almost surreal. "Huh." I concluded.

But before the words had time to sink in, more words came, but were uttered by neither of us.

"Ho, there!" the confident voice of an Imperial reached us. "You two look rather road-weary, considering Rihad is so near." I turned my head to witness an Imperial guardsman walking steadily toward us, hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. "It almost makes one suspicious. As if you have reason to avoid cities. As if you're evading the just reach of the Empire's law." The guard put as good a face on his suspicion as he could, continuing "But I'm sure there's a good, honest cause for it." He spread his arms, as if in friendship, but when they fell back to his sides his hand returned to the hilt. "And friends, I've always an interest in a good story." As he finished, he stood within an arm's length of us.

I knew it was an arm's length, because I reached out and grabbed him, holding his arms to his sides so he couldn't draw his blade. Leaning in menacingly, I cast a simple spell. When the light in his eyes changed, I knew I had him.

"He was just doing his job." I explained to Ma'Dar, not taking my eyes off the Imperial's. "He's probably not a bad sort, so I don't want to hurt him. I'm saying this, so the spell can transform my words in his ears. It doesn't really matter what I say; in his mind, it'll be the most terrible, frightening thing he's ever heard. It's a variation of the demoralize humanoid spell; it works with the spoken word, while your in-born Khajiiti ability is more visual."

As I released him, and he turned to run, Ma'Dar deftly grasped the hilt of his sword. All she did was hold it -- in his rush to get away, it slipped from it's scabbard. Handing it to me, she commented "My friend, you are getting sharper, but you still have tricks to learn. An opportunity like that is only an opportunity if you see it. But Ma'Dar is with you, so you are armed now anyway." She cast a glance in the direction the guard had run, back toward Rihad. "But enough musings. A scared man flees, but he will bring his fellows back. We should move on..."




What do you think?
Am I right?
It just feels... off.
I have kleptomania, but when it gets really bad, I take something for it.
Lord_Gallant
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Post by Lord_Gallant »

I have assembled an esp of the first 50 spellbooks (the ones on the main site) and posted it in the Tavern.
Trudging through the relentless Skyrim snowstorms, the lone Paladin looks on in sorrow as the land of Tamriel evolves without him; his mind occupied with other matters.
Anonymous

Post by Anonymous »

Are all the spells taken? Or are there some left to claim? Sorry if this has been addressed already, I haven't been following much of the thread...its kinda long :wink:
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Majra
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Post by Majra »

Lord Gallant, do you wish to continue the compilation of these or do you want me to take over for you?
R:6 I:22 N:30
Screw it, I'm back for sweet sweet TR

Uldar Gerzae: Expect no dodgeballs out of my arse. Though if something were to shoot out of me nether regions it mgiht be wise to dodge it all the same
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