“Even though the sun is out, it’s still so cold.” A lighting mage complained as she shivered in her robes. “I can’t believe those guys, making us keep watch just because we are weaker than them. Bring that flame atronach closer.”
“All right, just don’t get burned.” A conjuration mage said as she bade the flame atronach, an elemental daedra, to come slightly closer.
“Ah, That’s better. Seriously, I wished I learned the conjuration arts, or at least fire magic. Skyr*m is already so cold. Why does our base have to be colder?”
“We can’t help it. With our meager talent, it would take far too much gold to enter the College of Winterhold. This life may be hard, but at least it’s better than begging. Even though some of our actions aren’t the most upright.”
“Indeed.” The lightning mage replied with a nod. “At any rate, this atronach sure is useful. Considering you summoned it so long ago, I’m surprised it is still here.”
“That’s only because it’s not doing anything. So long as it isn’t fighting, it can stay here indefinitely with only my MP regen. However, if it were fighting, it would use more MP than I can provide, which would cause it to dissipate eventually.”
“That’s still incredibly useful, especially as a portable heat source.”
“It is. However, you need to make sure to keep your distance if they were to get killed, as it would cause a massive ex-” *fshump*. The conjuration mage’s words were cut short as she saw an ethereal arrow sticking out of the atronach. “Oh, shi-” *BOOM*.
An explosion of fire engulfed the two mages as they both began to scream in pain as the stench of burning flesh filled the air. Eventually, the burning sensation was replaced by a cold one. The two Mages glanced at their chests and saw two normal arrows sticking out of them. [[I should have been a beggar.]]
From a distance, Marcus glanced at the two mages. Unfortunately, he was too much of a glass cannon to attempt to apprehend them without harm. Plus, it was nearly guaranteed that they would have blood on their hands, and Marcus was not one to take chances.
After confirming that the alarm spell was no longer triggering, Marcus and his parents made their way towards the entrance of Fellglow Keep. A clunking sound could be heard from the other side of the door, indicative of tempering metal.
Standing over a workbench, a mage wiped the sweat from his brow. He toiled over a desk with various simple tools and basic weapons that he had somehow been able to forge using the makeshift smithing area. “I can’t believe they are making me do this.” He mumbled to himself. “I’m a mage, not a blacksmith. Just because I’m a blacksmith’s son doesn’t mean I know how to do it. Seriously, I ran away because he didn’t want to inherit the family business.” Suddenly, his body seized up, and his breath became locked in his lungs. In pain, he glanced down to his chest. Protruding from it was the tip of an arrow that had never been forged. The sight was forever burned into his memory before his vision went dark, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Marcus’s eyes scoured the room as he looked for anything of importance that his auto-loot missed. Eventually, his glance fell upon an unusual gem sitting in the corner of a table. His eyebrow slightly twitched as he recognized the gem. Some annoying memories flowed through his mind. However, he eventually picked up the gem and put it in his inventory. The moment he did so, a familiar sound echoed in his mind, one he had not heard since he came to this world. For the first time, Marcus had a quest.
The quest Marcus had received was to identify the gem and collect any others. He glanced at the screen and closed it before continuing to look around. One of the modifications he had made was to increase the potency of unique items and artifacts. However, he did not know to what extent. From his experiences with the game, Marcus already knew what this gem was a part of and how it was extremely lackluster, especially with all the trouble it took to complete it. He put it in the back of his mind and continued on.
Quietly, the family of three made their way back down the steps from whence they came, having cleared the floor above. They approached the door, now on the right, but, suddenly, both of his parents simultaneously pushed him back with a strange expression on their faces. Marcus was confused for a moment but understood why when he recognized that there was a male and female voice that were making sounds that painted an interesting picture.
Slightly amused by the circumstance, Marcus tilted his head with an innocent expression. “What are we waiting for? They sound preoccupied, so now is a great chance to strike.”
Mother and Father glanced at each other.
“We’ll take care of this. You wait here.” Mother said.
Marcus could only obediently nod and stand aside. After what sounded like a very brief altercation, the room eventually went silent aside from some scurrying around. Marcus wasn’t worried in the slightest. These Mages were not significantly stronger than the other mages he had run into before. It seemed that the more central area of Skyr*m had an overall lower level than the fringes.
“Are you done yet?” Marcus asked as he peeked inside the room.
“Ah, yes.” Mother replied as she finished covering up the female mage.
Marcus looked inside but saw no male body, only a pile of ash on the floor.
“At the very least, she was a necromancer,” Father replied, noting Marcus’s line of sight.
Marcus nodded. Whenever a reanimated body died, it would turn into a pile of ash. This was an inherent part of the spell that was tied to the world’s rules. With rare exceptions, a reanimated body turned to ash to prevent it from being reanimated repeatedly. Of course, some underlying mechanics justified this, but Marcus did particularly care. “Let’s keep moving.”