Spellbooks

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Post by Anonymous »

Hi guys I understand that I didn't Claim another one but heres one for ya. I'm not sure what category it goes into. I'm not really sure which category this whould go under though, Rally Creature, Command Creature, or Frenzy Creature, though I'm tending toward Command Creature.

Beast War Song
[tune to the song is the same as "Turkey in the Straw"] LOL :D


Beasts of the wild heed my call,
Be ye big or be ye small,
Be ye strong or be ye lame,
To me, my friends ye are all the same.

Creatures of nature hear my plea,
Stand up my friends and fight for me,
Birds of high and beasts of low,
Come to me and strike my foe.

HE HE 10 minutes top that, Kingy. [King_Lysandus speaks to himself] :P
Last edited by Anonymous on Wed Oct 29, 2003 11:53 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Anonymous

Post by Anonymous »

I really need someone to reply to my last post plz so I can claim another.
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Post by Earl »

I'd say it would fit best with Command Creature. It sounds like something a Bosmer might write. I like it.

Don't worry about claiming more than one effect at a time. I've got four claims at the moment (not counting the one I'm about to post), and I think Arcadea has something like eleven.


(Weakness to Frost)

imagined himself as the warrior that he saw in the stars
Might want to capitalize The Warrior, to make an allusion to the constellation.

10 times his hieght
Typo - height.

Again he sighed, "I wish I could be like you." he mused.
He sighed. . . he mused - too repetitive. "Sighing, he mumbled "I wish I could be like you." in musing tones."

from his daydreams, it had come from
Period instead of comma.

volted to the door
Bolted?

shattered like glass a beast so vicious
"And" after glass.

It smiled without humor but maddened insanity
"But with"

it could "comforably" fit
Comfortably.

it is said that Thoran, broke the spell by
Don't need the comma.
I have kleptomania, but when it gets really bad, I take something for it.
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Post by Earl »

(Sanctuary)
A Small Kindness
By Ralas Sovilia

Falen was a young Dunmer urchin, picking his life's blood from the pockets of those more
fortunate than he. Were it not for their unintentional charity, he surely would have starved, or
succumbed to disease, or fallen to some other fate years ago. The boy lived by his wits, but the
guards never seemed to appreciate his cleverness.

His life was a hard one, for no mer cared for the plight of the orphaned boy. Once upon a time,
Falen had tried his hand at the more honest trade of beggar, but found the hand more likely to fill
his belly if it found it's way into a merchant's purse. Perhaps if someone had bothered to show
Falen even a small kindness, he would not have become such a troublesome child.

As it happened, one typical morning the guards were typically harassing Falen, typically
suspecting the boy of helping himself to another merchant's inventory. As was typical, the boy
was guilty through and through, and everyone knew. But through having had such regular
dealings with the guards, the young thief had grown accustomed to some degree of familiarity,
some sense of bizarre friendship.

But on this particular morning, for whatever reason, he was treated with unusual harshness. One
guard grabbed him by an ankle, lifted him off the ground, and shook him until his ill gotten gains
spilled onto the ground, after which the child was unceremoniously dropped on his head. Not
considering the boy worth any more effort, the guards contented themselves to collect his meager
possessions and be on their way.

As evening approached, some townsfolk thought it odd that the boy hadn't been seen since the
morning's antics. Then, when he finally did return to town, he brought company. He sprinted
faster than he'd ever fled the guards, a huge grin on his face hiding just below his terror.

Falen did not ease his murderous pace until he was well within the city limits, and then he simply
waited, staring back from where he'd come. The wait was not a long one. Three Cliff Racers
madly screeched as they flew about looking for mer to tear at. Of course, the guards rushed to
meet the terrible beasts, but it was not long before they realized something was not right. None of
them were able to land a blow.

Still smiling, Falen ducked into a tavern, and waited again.

Everyone knew what had happened, but none could ever prove it. Falen found more
understanding from his fellow mer afterwards. Perhaps if they'd been kinder earlier, his lesson
wouldn't have been one they had to learn.
I have kleptomania, but when it gets really bad, I take something for it.
Anonymous

Post by Anonymous »

Alright I fixed the Weakness to Frost spellbook.
Anonymous

Post by Anonymous »

Hey I suppose I will take Charm so mark it off as well as Command Creature LG
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Post by Arcadea »

Books of tamriel First page has been updated to include a list of all people working on spell books and Books of Tamriel. If I made a mistake or something needs to be changed post.
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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Post by Morden »

I would like to claim "Drain Attribute" as my first Spell Book attempt. I don't believe it has been taken by anyone else. I'll post my story in a few days, and then you guys can rip it apart. :D
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Post by Earl »

Weight of Guilt, part 5.
Time for the big reveal. The next (hopefully last) part will be the conflict and explanation.
It's up to 26.3 KB, so it's now the longest spellbook.




"I'm afraid I'll need your help again" I told Kevius. "That Protectorate fellow watching over the
scene of the first murder, I need you to speak with him. Tell him I will have some interesting
news for him, and to meet me at Artisa Arethi's house. Be sure to inform that Blade Sanrit as
well; it is his investigation, after all."

Bright and eager as before, Kevius did not hesitate. "Of course!" and immediately ran off.

For my part, I hurried over to mistress Arethi's house myself, to explain and justify all the
company she was about to have. She seemed a bit worried that I intended to show them to the
basement, with the Ogrim hanging about, but I assured her that - as unlikely as it sounded - they
would not only not mind, but be happy the beast was there. Besides that small concern, the young
Dunmer was surprisingly accommodating.

Minutes later, Kevius arrived, Sanrit and the Protectorate in tow. They both looked confused,
though Sanrit also put his curiosity into words.

"What purpose here? We've been following this case for weeks. Breton, we are well familiar with
the injuries to the bodies, if that is what you intend to shed light upon."

I smiled confidently. "Oh, the injuries are just a part of it. If you're bored with them, I'm sure
there will be other items more of interest. I do not pretend to have all the pieces, but I've fit
together what I've been handed very well."

Sanrit and the Protectorate looked uneasily about as we descended the stairway to the basement.
The sudden chill, the corpses, and the Ogrim would surely have a similar effect on most anyone.
I walked around the raised stone slabs silently for a moment while the others collected their
bearings. Perhaps nervous in the presence of a law enforcement official, Artisa gravitated toward
me. Kevius studied the walls, resolutely refusing to look at the corpses he had never been
responsible for. The Blade and Protectorate stood near the door, as far away from the Ogrim as
possible. The Ogrim paid us no mind.

"Well, I must admit some hesitancy. I truly do not know where to begin." I began slowly, "I'm
sure you all remember Gralilan
Tulius, the second victim, nephew of a Blade. With his passing, I think I do him no wrong by
saying this: while it's true that he was such a nephew, I found it curious that it was not mentioned
that he himself was a member of that organization." I raised a hand for silence, as the assembly
grew noisy. "No, it was not any particular skill on my part that uncovered that truth. Just mere
chance. I knew the victim years ago, and worked with him on another case."

"Now, I know you investigators have been looking for a werewolf, but though you may find one,
it won't be your killer. One of you knows what I'm talking about. . ." I trailed off, hoping the
guilty party would expose themself. ". . . But it appears that person is waiting to be thoroughly
convinced of what they already know. Oh well."

I walked over to the body of Nevus, and gestured the rest to watch closely. Pointing to the long,
even cuts on his torso, I continued. "See these wounds? They were parallel, so it was easy enough
to pass them off as marks from a werewolf's claws. But if you are familiar with claw marks, you
would see that these gouges are too straight. They are, in fact, not gouges at all. This type of
injury comes from a blade; it's a cut, not a scratch, and it's intentionally made to look like it was
inflicted by an animal. As you may or may not be aware, werewolves do not use weapons, at least
not in lupine form. So the killer must be someone more conventional."

"So then, the killer was aware of the werewolf, and indeed sought his victims out based on the
werewolf's movements. The killer knows who the werewolf is. Public suspicion being what it is,
the killer would have been able to hand his scapegoat over to the authorities at any time, and no
one would have ever known he was the true killer. Why is the wolf still free, then? Because the
killer knew I was coming. Because the killer knew the wolf would seek me out, and that would
give him the opportunity to kill me and erase any doubt about the werewolf's guilt."

"Now, since the guilty party has insisted on holding their tongue, I shall give the largest clue: The
murderer knew I was coming to investigate well in advance of my arrival. Who would know
that? The person in charge of the investigation, of course." I rounded on him, pointing an
accusatory finger "Sanrit."

I didn't know such a thing was possible, but the already dark redguard's face darkened further. He
looked at the Protectorate in contempt, then said "Of course I did it, fool. You have uncovered so
much in a day, you think I'm so inept that I would be stymied even after three weeks? I kept the
Protectorate following false leads and outright fabricated leads because I didn't want this case
solved. And I was in position to make sure it never was. When I finally did turn in Kevius, I
would have blamed the pace of the investigation on these idiotic Protectorate."

I nodded toward Sanrit, and went on. "Now that you have been so kind as to admit your crimes,
would you resolve one last matter for me? I have my suspicions, but not certainty. Why kill
anyone?"

Sanrit shook his head in negation. "Little point wasting my breath, when I intend to kill you all,
and let Kevius take the fall." He drew his sword and stalked toward me. I felt Artisa's arms close
around me, seeking safety, and then I heard it. Moving with surprising speed and grace for it's
size, the Ogrim swept us all behind it and roared ferociously at Sanrit. Jumping to see over the
creature's massive shoulder, I saw the blood drain out of Sanrit's face. On my next jump, the
redguard turned and ran.

I half-leapt, half-climbed over the Ogrim and drew my own sword. Never had I had call to use
the katana before, though as a gentleman's weapon I practiced with it often enough. Now was not
the time for second-guessing, or hesitation. A killer would soon be loose in the streets.





Like the hint just before?
"This type of injury comes from a blade".

Also, I'll claim Weakness to Fire.
I'll have that done immediately after I finish up Burden here.
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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Earl, I'm more than happy to give you Weakness to Fire. I still can't imagine how you have the time or imagination to write so many wonderful stories, but I'm certainly glad for it!

King Lysandus gets Charm.

Morden gets Drain Attribute.

Good Luck on these!
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Post by Earl »

Weight of Guilt part 6.
30.6 KB now.
And there's still one more part to go.





I chased Sanrit up one flight of stairs, and saw him pause in the living room. His hesitation told
me he was weighing his chances of making it out the front door in time to elude me. Apparently,
he thought it not worth the risk, and instead ran up another flight of stairs. Hot on his heels, I
heard a crash ahead of me as he fled out of a window in what appeared to be Artisa's bedroom. I
did not have time to ponder the irony that Kevius, scapegoat for the murders, had fled similarly
so many times before. All I could do was follow Sanrit, as he leapt from one rooftop to the next. I
feared he might start feeling the adrenaline rush redguards are so known for; if he did and kept
running, I would never be able to catch up to him. . . and if he did and turned to fight, I did not
know if I could hope to match him in combat.

Three rooftops later, the burly fellow made up his mind. Just as I made the jump, he spun around
and buried his free hand into my midsection. I tried to roll with the blow, though it wasn't the sort
of blow one can truly roll from. I came to a stop laying on my back, and raised my katana to
cover my face just as Sanrit lowered his blade in an attempt to decapitate me. The power behind
his swing was such that he nearly succeeded anyhow. Kicking his legs out from beneath him, I
sprang back to my feet and took on a traditional sparring stance.

The murderous redguard quickly got up, and struck at me quickly and angrily. I parried each
thrust, giving ground as I did so. I made a feint at his thigh to buy me enough time to jump to the
next rooftop; having given so much ground on Sanrit's assault, I did not have a lot of roof left to
work with for a second attack. There was the possibility that he might start running again, but I
rightly banked on his wanting to see this impromptu duel through to the end.

In his leap over, Sanrit twisted his body around to give himself a wide arcing swing, to make sure
I would not take advantage of him as he did of me. It kept me from continuing immediately, but
such twists inevitably leave an area open. I quickly lashed out as his exposed back, careful to hit
him with the flat of my blade; while he may have no qualms about killing, I would much rather
capture a criminal than slay one.

My strike disrupted his balance on the tilted roof long enough for me to get in a second hit, this
time on the wrist of his sword arm. The result went as I'd hoped: The sword flew from his hand.
However, I had not imagined how fast the redguard could be, for he snatched the longsword out
of the air with his other hand, and instantly turned to attack again. I had not counted on
ambidexterity. A savage smile on his face, he trust at me again and again, slashing alternately at
my arms and head.

Running out of rooftop once more, I made my final jump, choosing the building carefully. I
backed away from the edge as Sanrit followed. While he closed the distance, I switched the
katana to my other hand; the heavy blows of an adrenaline fed redguard are enough to exhaust
most any swordsman. As we crossed swords, I finally realized that I would not be able to weather
the hail of shots he could lay down. He was simply too quick, too strong, and too unrelenting,
and I was too unwilling to cause injury.

We continued on until the last in a series of three strikes was so overwhelmingly powerful that I
lost my footing. Finally triumphant, the redguard readied for one final death-dealing chop. He
had had the luxury of having his mind on the battle the entire time, while I had not. Though he
stood over me, victory within his grasp, now was the time my extracurricular thinking would pay
off. Rolling away from him to create some distance, I cast an incredible burden spell at him.
Sanrit had no time to react.

The roof collapsed under his now-colossal weight, and he dropped into the building
unceremoniously. Placement had concerned me quite a bit, but looking down into the gap, I saw
my fears hadn't come true. Sanrit had fallen through the roof of the Protectorate compound,
convenient right into an unoccupied jail cell. With Protectorate all around him, the clouds visible
through the hole would likely be the last sky he would be seeing for some time.

As an investigator though, one question still nagged at me: Why? I would not be satisfied with
the conclusion until I knew what had driven the redguard to kill.







I want to let you in on an obscure real-world reference now:
Fuchon Cire's name comes from Emil Fouchon, from the Van Damme movie Hard Target. Emil Fouchon was a bad-ass, because he was played by Lance Henriksen. I misspelled the name [F(o)uchon] from memory ;)
It was the first Breton-sounding name that came to mind when I wrote up the first story.
Last edited by Earl on Sat Nov 01, 2003 4:44 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Earl »

Weight of Guilt part 7.
36.6 KB. The end.
Milestone: My 25th spellbook :)
It also puts me well over 100 total KB.







Because Sanrit had admitted to the murders in the presence of one of the Protectorate, he knew
his fate was pretty well sealed. As such, he did not object to answering my questions. From his
responses, a clear picture began to emerge.

When there are two Blades in a city, and one does not know of the other (As Sanrit did not know
of Gralilan Tulius), there are typically two reasons: They're investigating separate, unconnected
matters, or one outranks the other. Given the sensitive nature of their work, it's not uncommon
for a Blade to have no direct correspondence with his superiors. Such was the case with Gralilan
and Sanrit, and Sanrit was unhappy with the orders his unknown boss had been issuing. "A waste
of his talents", as Sanrit himself said. If something were to happen to Gralilan, Sanrit believed he
would be the one to take his place, and perhaps more importantly, his rank.

It was through a casual conversation with Crantilius Vasius that Sanrit discovered who had been
wasting his talents. Crantilius had made the mistake of assuming Sanrit already knew of his
fellow Blade. The wheels in his head turning, Sanrit began to plot the demise of his superior. But
once Crantilius heard that Gralilan's position was not common knowledge, he might grow
suspicious of Sanrit. That was why Crantilius was the first victim; it was sheer luck that Kevius
visited him on the same night.

Taken aback by the sudden appearance of the werewolf, Sanrit decided to mock up the scene as if
the werewolf had killed the man. After that, the redguard made every effort to find out the
identity of the wolf; capturing it would certainly be a bright spot in his career. He could not
imagine his good fortune when, the very next night, he followed Kevius to Gralilan's house. It
seemed almost too good to be true, but Sanrit was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Once Gralilan had been murdered, and it became apparent there was a killer in town, Sanrit was
immediately given the rank he so desired, and was placed in charge of the case as his first duty.
Another Blade would have been sent, but it was thought Sanrit would be better suited, given that
he was already familiar with the town and it's inhabitants. The Protectorate didn't make much
fuss about having the investigation taken away because the graphic nature of the crimes disturbed
so many of them.

Now Sanrit had what he wanted, and could have turned in Kevius right then and there. But he
worried that someone else might have known Gralilan's position, that his benefitting from the
murder would seen suspicious. He knew Nevus was a close friend of Gralilan's (even though he
hadn't known Gralilan was a Blade, he had known of him), but he couldn't think of a way to kill
him without drawing suspicion; two killers in town would seem a terrible coincidence. With that
in mind, he killed Falinia Rescius, Ysronmir, and Vonvild, to keep pace with his werewolf
scapegoat.

Around that time, it dawned on him that Kevius was seeking out those who might be able to treat
his condition. Again, Sanrit laughed at his luck - surely Kevius would visit the problematic
alchemist, and give ample opportunity for his slaying. The redguard had intended to turn in
Kevius immediately after that, but fate, it seems, suddenly stopped in it's favor toward him.

Dissatisfied with the course of the investigation and it's rising body count, the Protectorate officer
assigned to the case asked a Blade friend of his to request my aid. The officer informed Sanrit of
his actions, and so Kevius remained free. Sanrit thought that Kevius would seek me out in the
hopes I would have him jailed (and so be unable to hurt others). On one hand, Sanrit hoped
Kevius would assume all the blame for the murders and I wouldn't question it. On the other, if I
looked too hard into the case, he could always murder me and lay the guilt on Kevius once again.
Gratinius Dolan was killed as Sanrit waited for my arrival. It is true that Gratinius also knew of
Gralilan's rank through his charity, but Sanrit banked on his ability to manipulate Gratinius' fierce
loyalty to the Empire to keep him from making any accusations.

Sanrit was a powerful man, and his power was augmented by the adrenaline rush redguards are
feared for. It was how he caused such destruction in the rooms where his victims were found. It
was how he subdued his victims so quickly, though surprise certainly played it's role too (how
many people witness a werewolf's transformation, then have a potential defender draw a sword
on them?). It was how he tossed the bodies up with such ease, to leave bloody full-body prints on
ceilings. Once he calmed himself, then he would make sure to inflict the "telltale clawmarks" on
the bodies with his sword. Afterwards, he exited through the window that had already been
broken by Kevius - which was why the sill had blood on it, but not the glass. He could not very
well go walking through town looking like a butcher without drawing curiosity.

Sanrit undoubtedly bore me ill will, for if not for my intervention he may have gotten away with
his crimes. I have not spent too much time worrying about vengeance, though. Because he
murdered a fellow Blade, treason was among his charges; piled on top of seven murder charges
(Crantilius, Gralilan, Falinia, Ysronmir, Vonvild, Nevus, and Gratinius), he did not keep the
executioner waiting.

As for Kevius, he finally found someone to help him with his lycanthropy. As an unconventional
disease, it's cure is known in the usual unconventional circles, and as a necromancer, Artisa
Arethi was familiar with some rather unconventional circles. Because he never actually harmed
anyone other than himself during his time as a werewolf, no charges were brought against him.
He did, however, pay for the replacement of the windows he shattered. Maybe the weight of guilt
had been removed from his shoulders, but his sense of responsibility remained intact.
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Post by Earl »

(Weakness to Fire)
Interrogating Dunmer

The prideful and pompous Dunmer are harder nuts to crack than some races, but as with all
others they yield when reasonable pressure is applied. The true test is discovering what
constitutes "reasonable pressure" for a given mer. For the best and quickest results, one must
attack the Dunmer where the foolish mer reckons his race strong.

The Dark Elves certainly seem to act as though pride is one of their strengths. Turning their
arrogance against them can work wonders. For example, Dunmer think themselves the most
enlightened of races, with a firm grounding in a false superstition. The Ashlanders - those who
do not indulge in the popular superstition - find themselves at odds with Dunmer society. The
interrogator working these facts to their advantage might threaten to give a traditional Ashlander
tattoo to a boastful House Dunmer.

Continuing along that vein, House Dunmer are especially proud of themselves and their
particular House. Each of the Houses hold a reasonable contempt for the others, to rather
ridiculous extremes. When interrogating a stubborn House Dunmer, one might procure armor of
a different House, and threaten to force the Dunmer to wear it just before releasing him into the
welcome arms of his very understanding brothers.

If the above methods fail, or the interrogator finds himself dealing with an Ashlander, other
means might be employed. One must understand that direct, physical action should not be the
first course, but when other options have exhausted themselves, one must do what one must do.

The Dunmer are highly resilient to the touch of flame, and as a result, they do not properly fear it
as other races do. Therefore, exposing them to the full agony that burns can produce would be an
almost wholly new sort of pain for a Dunmer. Unexpectedly intense, unexpectedly hurtful, it
would be a new sensation. Subjects are much more resistant to familiar forms to interrogation
than new and unusual methods. By casting a powerful weakness on them, and holding a torch to
the soles of their feet, most Dunmer will not hesitate to volunteer information that would
incriminate their own mothers.

Of course, the examples outlined here are just examples, and an interrogator of any skill will
invent his own methods, or use old ones in new ways. This manuscript should merely be
considered a starting point, rather than a guide book.






Oh, and about Weight of Guilt: I made some minor editing to earlier parts, so it'd be best to use what I uploaded to the TR Spellbooks Project data page. At some point, I lost track of the body count. Or upped it later. I'm not sure.
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Post by Kevaar »

Could I claim soultrap, and silence?
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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Hola, peeps! I'm back!

Ok, what did I miss? Oh, yes, Kevaar joins the dark side and claims some spellbooks, Earl completes the extremely awesome masterpiece of the Weight of Guilt, and follows it up with an encore. Great job Earl!

Since Silence and Soultrap are unclaimed, they are yours to toy with Kevaar! Pyroid claimed Silence at one point but he left the project for a long time, so it turns to you. If he ever comes back and wants it, we will keep both stories and use them in different provinces.
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Post by Arcadea »

LG I can contact Pyriod we still keep in touch.
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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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Well, the point still stands. Any stories you can get out of him would be great, but if he wants Silence it will end up being a dual claim like you and Zombie with Lock.
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Okay

Post by Arcadea »

Y
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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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Because Pyroid left and told us he was dropping his projects. He said it would be an extended thing. So, naturally I opened his effects up for claiming. Now, Kevaar claimed silence before Pyroid manages to reclaim it, so, logically, I should just give it to her alone. But, instead of doing that I think it would be better to preserve the freer nature of this project by allowing pyroid the option to also do a book for Silence, if he really wants it that badly, but his version will just be used in another province. I think this is more than fair!
Last edited by Lord_Gallant on Mon Nov 03, 2003 3:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Arcadea »

ah didn't release he dropped al thjingd
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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Post by Earl »

This one shouldn't be too long.
But still, this is just part 1.



(Water Breathing)
A Just Punishment
By Eraturiel

Londenrume studied the tavern from his usual seat, casually filtering out the conversations of the
other regulars. He did not come for food or drink, or to overhear their petty trifles. What
concerned him was news from afar that travelers - the unusual lot - brought in. Information was
always useful, even if that use was not immediately apparent.

As luck would have it, two unfamiliar Nords stalked in. Luck, however, was not kind enough to
make them carelessly start conversing their business to all within earshot. That made them
doubly curious: Besides being strangers, the Nords broke the seemingly unwritten Nordic rule of
bragging loudly of their brave and foolish exploits. Most especially the foolish ones. But these
two sat in silence, staring sullenly at the other patrons. They opened their mouths only to order
more liquor or foodstuffs, and did even that with an air of hushed importance.

As Londenrume watched them without seeming to watch them, he knew their eyes were
surveying the room in just the same way. They were looking for something. With typical Nords,
he would have suspected a fight. But these fellows made no motions toward their weapons, and
he did not sense the usual pre-battle tension in them. A waitress serving the patron on
Londenrume's left distracted him for a moment, and when he quickly looked without looking
back at the Nords, they were gone.

Shaking his head in stifled curiosity, Londenrume suddenly stiffened. He felt hand on his
shoulder as one of the Nords took the seat to his right and his fellow stood behind and between
them. The bearded Nord at the seat, the elder of the two, studied Londenrume's face, his dark,
hard eyes betraying nothing.

"High Elf," he began "we have need of your services." Saying no more, he waited for some
response.

After beat, Londenrume asked "And how would two unfamiliar men such as yourselves know
what sort of services I might offer?"

The grey bearded Nord turned on the stool to face the bar while he talked. "You are an Altmer.
You wear robes without the creak of armor below. Your hands fit around a plate as if it were a
book. You might look around shifty like a thief, but if you are a wizard." It wasn't a question, but
the Nord let it hang in the air as if it were.

"Congratulations," Londenrume stated flatly "you have figured out that an Altmer uses magic."

"Let's not waste each other's time. You know we were looking for someone like you. As I said,
we have need of your services."

Londenrume answered flippantly, "Indeed, I do not intend to waste any time. I'm not interested."

At that, Londenrume felt a dagger poke lightly into his back as the other Nord stepped close in to
cover the blade from prying eyes. All around them, regular tavern chatter continued unabated.
The Nord with the dagger hissed "You are a sharp mer. My blade is sharper still, but you are a
sharp mer. I know you do not recall us asking for your services, because we did not."

The older Nord chimed in, "As he says. This is not a matter of requesting. This is not a
negotiation. I said we were looking for someone like you. I said we had need of your services. I
say now, you will come with us, travel with us, and cast spells for us. When you are no longer
needed, you are free to do what you will."

The second Nord continued, "If you give us trouble now, you will die. We might be caught, and
we might not. But you will be dead. I know you understand me."

After an uncomfortable silence, the bearded Nord clapped Londenrume on the shoulder. "It's
settled then," he said loudly. "Come then, friend. Much road lies before us. Much work to be
done."

As the group passed through the tavern door, Londenrume cast one last glance back. None of the
other patrons had noticed.





As far as dual claims. . .
It'd be good to have different sets of books to use in different regions, just for the sake of variety. Still, spell effects that haven't been covered should take priority. But if someone wants to write another book for an already covered effect, they should feel free to do so, especially if they don't have an interest in other effects, or don't have other open claims that the project would be better served having filled.

There are some effects that are already covered that I've thought about writing another story for. But while I still have other things to do, those are very back-burner.
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Post by Morden »

I'm still going on Drain Attribute... its comin'... but i'm also doing research papers at the same time :)
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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Don't worry about it, Morden. It's no real rush. We need a complete list before Morrowind's exteriors are complete, but that will probably be quite a while. Just take your time and produce a great story. Quality, more than efficiency, is the key here. And believe me, I perfectly understand about Real Life getting in the way, LoL!
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Post by Enigma »

Lord_Gallant or Earl, whoever is in charge, I don't know how your system here works so I just made up some thing for Disintegrate Weapon

Reading Arcadeas post below me here, I changed my post and am now asking if I could claim this one.


Burn, Burn, Burn, Burn
Your weapon sizzles, it cracks and melts,
Melt, Melt, Melt, Melt
It's liquid now, so watch it fall,
Fall, Fall, Fall, Fall
You think you'll stop me with just a hilt?
Last edited by Enigma on Wed Nov 05, 2003 1:56 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Arcadea »

LG is in charge you have to claim it. Don't worry I think it's good and I don't belive any one claimed it but wait for LG on that.
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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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Yes, Enigma, you may claim Disintegrate Weapon. For a list of all the unclaimed (available) spell effects, check page 2 of this thread or in Earl's list in the thread called TR Spellbook Project Data.

I will mark it as claimed, but are you sure that you want your poem to be so short? People will open this book in game and will hope to read something gripping or moving, and it is hard to grip or move anyone in so few words! Remember, you have as long as you want to make your story. There is no rush to finish this.
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Post by Enigma »

I don't? Alright I'll edit that post when I'm finished ok LG?
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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Sounds good to me. Take a look at some of the other spellbooks that have already been done in this thread. They can give you some inspiration and ideas (plus, many of them are a helluva lot of fun to read!;) )
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Post by Enigma »

Whoa, Earl, where did you learn to write like that, Geez!!!
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Post by Arcadea »

LG do you write stories as a hobby or for fun and how long I'm guesing no but I won't to hear your input.
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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Post by Lord_Gallant »

I have actually written very few stories in my life. I made a poem once that was out of my own free will. It turned out to be very mathematically precise but kinda grim. The poem told a story of a necromancer who went into a graveyard to raise undead zombies. They were under his control by virtue of a set of chimes, and each ring meant something to them. The zombies entered a village and began slaughtering everyone they found, dragging them out of their homes as they slept and feasting on their screaming bodies. They only thing that stopped their assault was the break of dawn. When this happened, the chimes' spell was broken and the walking dead crumbled. I think I called it Silence of the Dawn.

Beyond that, I've never really done any voluntary writing.
Last edited by Lord_Gallant on Wed Nov 05, 2003 4:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Earl »

It wasn't really a matter of learning. I've just kept improving on my work. I'll write something and think "How can I make this sound better?", then rewrite it, and think of how to make that sound better.

At one point in high school, I'd written a three page story. Before it got anywhere, I rewrote the two pages into ten. Then I went back over the first half of the new ten, and scrapped those five for twenty. I was never satisfied with the story, so I just quit.

I'm just a high school graduate, and that was about four years ago now. I never went to college. I'm already too smart :þ

Practice always helps.
Between high school and TR, I used to write down my dreams. In school, I used to write short stories, poems, and sonnets to keep busy. Most of the stuff I've lost or burned.
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Post by Kevaar »

You don't really learn writing, like you do math. It just...comes to you. And the more you do it, the easier it comes. What helps for me is to say "Now how can I describe that in a way no one has ever described it before?" I like to break cliches ;) Oh, and never throw away your writing. You may think its bogus now, but years from now you may come back and say "That's a pretty good idea." or "Hey, this isn't that bad."

This poem might fit for Fortify Attack. Please tell me what you think about it (If it doesn't fit, I'll probably use it for Books of Tamriel). The title of the poem is "Blood Beat" although the book may be named something else...


A beat.

The beat of the war drum,
The beat of heavy boots,
The beat of the heart,
Waiting for fate.

Glass sunlight,
Unyielding and cold,
Glinting and dancing
Across a metal sea.

The first wave breaks
The first blood falls
The first screams add
To the cacophony of noise.

Breakers leapâ€â€￾horses rear
Threats of thunderâ€â€￾cries of war.
Lightning shardsâ€â€￾
Swords twist fatal dances.

Swords clash
And spears flash
The axe rends
Through heartblood.

Heat of hate
Heat of battle
Heat of blood
Steaming in the grass.

The fight for the field
Yields then charges
Back and forth
Pendulum of victory and defeat.

Second wave sweeps
Third wave struggles
Fourth wave brings
Fear and courage.

Bugle calls.
Hoards break from place.
Waves draw away
Shore prepares for final battle.

Heroes step forward,
Cowards run back,
The army thins,
The final struggle has come.

Fierce and determined,
Out slash silver weapons
Shields are thrown up
Bodies twist to avoid

Down comes the resistance
Up swarms the advance.
Walls crack,
Fortress falls.

Old flag is ripped down.
A new one flies in place.
Cheers block out
The groans of the wounded.

Army dissipates
Silence settles, cold and dead.
Black fly the carrion birds,
The smoke of corpse fires

Final sword is sheathed.
Final gasp is given.
Heads drop, others rear.
Last words are said.
Last edited by Kevaar on Wed Nov 05, 2003 6:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Lord_Gallant »

You really need to ask for a spell effect before you make a book or poem for it, and this is a great example of why. Fortify Attack is in the list of potentially unbalancing effects that might not end up in Spellbooks. The only current source for this effect is through an EXTREMELY hard-to-acquire spell called Mephala's Skill. It is a gift Mephala grants you for returning all 27 sanguine items to her. Alot of people have never even heard of this spell, and for good reason. Fortify Attack will quickly make a wimpy mage into a fighter experienced with any weapon. Coupled with Bound weapons, this is quickly unbalancing.

You may be able to find a different spell effect that this story could fit. But if you don't want to do that it will still make a great poem for Books of Tamriel.
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Post by Kevaar »

I'm sorry about not claiming it before hand--the poem just popped into my head unbidden. I didn't see any other effects that seem quite applicable to the poem though.
Last edited by Kevaar on Wed Nov 05, 2003 7:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Enigma »

LG, why does ClassCreator have Fortify Skill then?
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Post by Arcadea »

She's right and when did he claim that?
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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Post by Lord_Gallant »

Oops! Sorry, that wasn't supposed to have an asterisk by it. I've fixed it. Fortify Skill used to be one of those unbalancing spell effects (and in my opinion, it still is), but since Bethesda chose to add spells using this effect to numerous spell merchants in Mournhold, it is no longer a forbidden spell effect.
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Post by Arcadea »

so can she hav it
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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Post by Enigma »

LG, does Class Creator have Fortify Skill!?!?!
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