I turn in the direction of the stairwell that leads further up the watchtower and I sigh in annoyance. “Switching” spells is a weird thing to do, requiring concentration and focused intent, but to me it’s simple enough and I switch the frost spells I had only just equipped, and I fill my hands with paralysis magic, specifically the paralysis rune spell to create a nifty trap.

I concentrate for a second even as my ally fights his friends and his friends fight each other, to allow the magic in my hands to “Charge up” as it were. The magic grows heavier and mightier in my hands before I bring my extremities together and fuse their enemies into one spell. The powerful paralysis rune waiting to be cast doesn’t have to wait long before I unleash it.

I aim it at the top of the stairwell and I watch the orange arcane energy zip through the air and eventually collide with the stairs at the top of the stairwell. I can see the powerful energy as clear as day thanks to my mastery over mysticism magic, but I know that someone else less well-versed in the arcane arts would struggle to detect the magic until it either hit them or exploded before their very eyes and affected someone else. The rune is wide enough that dodging it, especially without knowledge that it’s there, would be a feat of incredible luck, and I relax and turn my attention back to the matter at hand.

The orc I slew and reanimated is locked in pitch battle with the archer orc he once called a friend. His skillful sword swipes cut through arrows the dexterous archer is attempting to hit him with. The other orcs are locked in pitched battle against each other, and they are exchanging blows with confidence and anger. I allow myself a beat to study them, and to memorize the deftness of their martial techniques.

The Pariah Folk are trained from a young age to be dangerous combatants and startingly self-sufficient. These orcs exemplify those traits of their culture. I can see how they overran the guard tower, even as I realize that it is likely that the corpses of the guards, which should be somewhere throughout the tower were actually eaten by the orcs!

The memories of the orc I have slain and converted to my side confirm this as I begin to scan them, as well as of the fact that the orcs are the latest outcasts exiled from the nearby “Stronghold” of Largashbur. That could be worth looking into, later… The orcish chieftain begins to climb down the stairwell leading from the roof to the highest internal floor of the tower, right as I fill my hands with powerful frost magic again.

I carefully aim at the metal armor that protects the greatsword wielding orc and smirk. Powerful icicles shoot out of my hands and hit the back of the orc’s knee. He cries out in pain even as the draining effects of frost magic wash over him and eat chunks of his stamina, while his opponent roars in fury and lunges forward. He lifts his mace high into the air and gets ready to savagely bring the heavy object down on his opponent with a gleeful, cruel smile on his face.

I instantly switch spells and hit the wounded, ice-kissed orc with a soul trap spell as well as conjure two unarmed Dremora lords to aid me. Dremora lords are high-ranking, humanoid daedra that serve many mighty daedric princes, particularly Mehrunes Dagon and Molag Bal, the princes of destruction and domination respectively. The gray-skinned humanoids are almost as tall as I am, and they are heavily armored warriors who I easily control with the same ease that I control my own limbs.

Both of the lords’ tackle and grapple the orcs they appear next to. As they clash with the orcs they have captured I sense the bandit chief reach the top of the stairwell leading to this floor, only for the fool to activate my trap. A loud sound rocks the floor my companion and I are on as the paralyzed body of the orc chief begins to clumsily fall down the stairs, crashing loudly against the stone steps and even distracting the orcish archer who has spent the last few moments locked in battle against my reanimated ally.

That distraction proves to be a deadly one as my orcish servant chucks his sword at the archer. The distracted archer is impaled by the sword and he falls to his knees even as shock dulls the pain he should be feeling. I hit the figure with a soul trap spell and then flick a pair of icicles at the bow-wielder. One of the icicles hits the figure in the head and the next hits him in his chest and the combined force instantly kills the figure and causes his soul to flow into another of my black soul gems.

Again I see the strange “Hero” bar from earlier fill just a touch, and I wonder what will happen when I finally fill it completely. It is odd to kill someone, even a bandit, and see a bar call me a “Hero” but I can sense that this is related to my powers as an evolving being, even if I am not quite sure how.

“Go get the chief.” I say to the reanimated corpse, who nods at me and walks over to the paralyzed form of the bandit chief and begins to disarm her. I retrieve the newly filled soul gem and I crush it in my hands, causing the identity and personality of the slain bandit to flow into me as well as empower my orcish traits.

I also casually reanimate the newly slain bandit, transmitting more of the frosty necromantic energies I wield to transform the figure into another wight, which begins to slowly stand up and study its surroundings. The figure is soon ordered to go and aid the other wight in securing the bandit chief, which it does quite obediently.

In almost no time at all I find myself standing over five orcs and two dremora lords all of whom are on the floor. Two of the orcs have become wights in my service, and the two dremora are summons who serve me, but the remaining three orcs are all violently opposed to the treatment they are receiving, they just find themselves unable to meaningfully fight back against it.

I study the scene before me and let out a dark peal of laughter. I turn to gaze into the brown eyes of the orcish bandit chief.

“So… You are the leader of the bandits.” I state, definitively. She is dressed in actual orcish armor, which is sharp and thick. It is made of orichalc, the metal which defines the craftsmanship of the orcs. There is an orcish blade, a deadly green thing with weird curves and edges, on the floor not far from the woman who is finally beginning to break through the effects of the paralysis spell.

“I… I… I’ll… Kill!” She begins to mutter, almost deliriously, as she glares at me. She tries to fight off the wights, but they stubbornly keep her contained and she eventually gives up, unable to overpower the two deceased orcs who are determined to hold her down.

I turn to face the other bandits, at least the ones that are still alive and chuckle as they continue to glare at each other. I focus on the magic I am wielding and envision it being replaced by powerful soothing magic from the same school of magic that I used to turn the bandits against each other in the first place. I point one of my hands in the direction of one of the orcs and I silently cast the powerful spell that is guaranteed to calm the raging man.

The spell escapes my hand and hits the orc, allowing me to watch the rage vanish from his face. It seems to leave as quickly as it emerged when he was first hit by my “Frenzy” spell. The orc studies his surroundings for a second before he placidly accepts the current predicament he is in, causing me to chuckle lightly.

“Hi there. I’m just gonna use you to experiment for a second.” I inform the orc, who calmly nods at me and seems to be fine with me doing whatever I am about to do. I close my eyes and I activate one of my stranger perks, one I possess by virtue of being a champion of Hermaeus Mora, the daedric prince of knowledge.

Even behind closed eyes I can somehow still see my surroundings. I watch as a green portal appears behind the orc I am targeting, and a single foul tentacle slips through the thing. The tentacle is a long, nasty limb and it dances dexterously through the air above the orc before suddenly lunging into the ear of the defeated humanoid.

The orc’s mouth opens and drool begins to spill out of it. As the mouth of the monstrous elf opens I feel my mind filling with memories and knowledge, causing me to smile wickedly.

By virtue of my being a champion of Hermaeus Mora I possess one particularly nasty power: the ability to drain knowledge from those I opt to assail. This is a tricky power to use correctly but by mixing magic that calms my enemies with the power I can stop them from resisting the power, which does not harm people unless they resist it, I can more effectively use the power.

The orc has lived for decades and he has accumulated a fair deal of experience in various areas which flows into me and causes various bars to appear above my head and fill with differing amounts of experience. This causes me to laugh as I realize that this is a far faster way for me to begin to move towards mastering the origins, I understand I can wield, even as ones that do not belong to known text boxes appear overhead and incrementally begin to fill as well.

“Overlord” and “Teacher”, two origins I’ve never seen before, appear in my mind’s eye and fill more thoroughly than “Hero” did earlier, which causes me to stare at the bars in curiosity. I can sense that the appearance of the bars at all relates to my possession of my evolving system, but I do wish I had more clarity on how the system operated…

[Alert: Addressing Your Concerns

This ‘Evolving System’ is meant to straddle the fine line between being helpful and being overly talkative. This difficult line to straddle puts the system in a sometimes-awkward position where it is unsure of when to speak up. Because you’ve wished for more clarity a decision was made to address your concerns directly.

Your mastery of the system itself has started off only strong enough to connect you to generic worlds, but these generic worlds offer you chances to grow stronger over time. Origins such as ‘Hero’, and ‘Overlord’ are tied to the generic worlds mentioned earlier. As you behave in ways that reflect the origins you will gain a stronger connection to the origins and eventually, you’ll gain the power to use the perks and items belonging to the origins in question, and eventually you may even gain the ability to connect to and with companions from these distant worlds as well.

Take for example the ‘Hero’ origin, once you’ve behaved how a hero is expected to behave long enough you’ll gain access to ‘Hero’ items and perks. As you grow in strength your system will evolve and build connections to other, more distant worlds, including, eventually, non-generic worlds.

For now, one of the big keys to gaining more power will be your keychains. These items can become actual keys to distant worlds, complete with their own origins, perks, items, and more. At the moment they remain inert only able to connect you to origins tied to these worlds very faintly. One example of this is the [Runescript] keychain.

This keychain is tied to a world of Norse and Germanic myth that has been corrupted and broken and is stuck in a state of Fimbulwinter, or perpetual winter. Because of this keychain you possess a faint tether to multiple origins, one of which has revealed itself to you: the [Teacher] origin. If you gain enough strength or enough experience with [Runescript] magic you will eventually reawaken the keychain’s true power and can enter the world it is tied to on your own.

This is the case for each of the keychains you possess. The [Give And Take] keychain is linked to a dystopian world where greed is a powerful force of nature and mixes with the development of technology, and the [Legend-Smithing] keychain is tied to a world where art comes to life and artists can have powerful abilities all their own. If you wish to become truly powerful, you’ll need to visit each of the worlds you possess links to, and use those links to nurture your own terrifying power.]

I read the textbox even as my system finishes draining the orc of the knowledge and memories he possesses. As soon as the thing is done the tentacle vanishes and the orc slumps over, unconscious. The bandit chief looks at the orc, concern visible in her eyes, and I turn and smirk at her.

“Don’t worry my friend, your turn is coming.” I remark, even as I turn my attention to the orc who remains captured and conscious. As I begin to repeat the process I just enacted on the orc’s now unconscious companion, I also strike the third orc with a soul trapping spell and then mentally order the dremora lord holding the unconscious orc to go ahead and finish him off.

Even as the strange portal reappears behind the orc’s friend, I hear the brutal noise of the dremora lord ramming his fist through the chest of the unconscious orc. The orc in front of me is indifferent to what he has just witnessed, thanks to the powerful calming magic I possess and within moments he is drooling as the daedric tentacle I control is stealing his knowledge, memories, and skills. I will my necromantic magic to flow into the corpse of the freshly slain orc and revive the figure as a wight, giving me control over three of the strange creatures.

In a matter of moments even more decades of knowledge fill my mind, and more bars appear in my mind’s eye. I retrieve the heavy soul-gem that was just filled and I crush the thing in my hands even as I relish in the knowledge I am stealing from my enemies. This causes a textbox to appear in my mind’s eye, one that makes me smile like a savage villain who has somehow just grown in power.

[Alert: Orsimer Progress Made

You have grown in power by devouring the identities of orcs, or as they are more formally known the ‘Pariah Folk’ or the ‘Orsimer’. These powerful creatures are known for embracing martial pursuits and are well-known craftsmen.

You are not far from attaining an ‘Alt-form’ of an orsimer. ‘Alt-Forms’ are forms that you can shapeshift into at will, and until you gain the right perk by devouring enough of the right type of creature, it is only by using your ‘Alt-Forms’ that you can most powerfully use the perks you attain by devouring the identities of various lifeforms native to this world. Basically, if you want your newly acquired ‘Berserker Rage’ ability to be as powerful as it can be, you will need to shapeshift into your orc form, for now at least.

You will also gain access to the first four out of a total of eight items unique to the orsimer. The first four items tend not to be extremely special, unique items but they are still meaningful things that greatly empower those who own and use them.

As you grow greater and greater in power it will start to take longer to evolve. Nevertheless, it remains worth it to make use of your powers and to grow mightier and mightier.]

I finish draining the orc I am targeting of his memories and knowledge right when I finish reading the latest notification to appear in my mind’s eye. I hit the orc with a casting of the dangerous soul trap spell, and I mentally order the dremora holding his now unconscious form to murder him. I watch as the unconscious orc’s neck is broken and the creature is released from the embrace of the dremora.

“And then there was one…” I mutter, even as I allow my sickly frozen energy to creep into the orc and reanimate the bastard. The orc groans as he slowly clambers back to his feet, and he becomes the fourth person to join me as a wight. I retrieve the next black soul gem and I crush the thing, allowing what was left of the orc’s identity to fill me and allow me to grow in power.

The orc watching me glares at me, hate and fear mixing in her eyes in equal measure. I smirk at her even as I point one of my fingers at her.

“Curse your own strength, or rather… Your lack thereof.” I tell her, even as I cast the calming spell which I have been using to calm down my foes so I can drain them of their memories completely. The tentacle I have been using against my foes appears behind the orc even as her will to fight me dies, and the thing immediately snakes into her mouth, unable to penetrate her earlobes thanks to the orcish armor she is wearing.

I hit her with a soul-trapping spell and I order the wights I have created to ready themselves to kill her when I am done draining her of her identity. As soon as I begin to absorb her memories I nearly fall to my knees as I feel the might of her identity, memories, and willpower being absorbed by the potent tendril of Hermaeus Mora. The orc’s identity begins to seep into me and I feel myself filling with the power of her sense of self and her tenacious grip on her own identity. As her sense of self dies mine grows greater, having devoured hers for the sake of my own strength.  

I shut my eyes and as I do I picture my nordic form becoming somewhat shorter and my skin taking on a gray hue. In my mind’s eye I can picture my body clad in a full suit of orcish armor, and I can distinctively envision the orcish blade I would wield in this new form of mine. The sensation of tusk-like teeth growing in my mouth causes me to feel intense pain, even as my orcish alt-form grows more and more real. I can feel armor attaching itself to my orcish form, such as my “Bearclaw Helm” and my “Amulet of Torug” two powerful artifacts which are now a part of my inventory.

When I open my eyes I look at my limbs and I find them much more ashy in color than they had just been. I let out a soft laugh as I glance at the fallen, defeated bandit chief. The woman looks up at me, blankly. I hit her with a simple usage of the soul trapping magic I wield, and then I glance at the orcish sword I now own.

The strange, angular blade is a roughly hewn thing but despite how it looks I can tell the weapon is masterfully made. I can feel the blade’s traits and qualities, and I can tell that the item is a deadly weapon even in a novice’s hands.

I take a single step forward and lift the blade to the chief’s heart. For a moment I am still, as the orcish woman looks at me curiously, her mind blank and completely empty of every single thought and memory from even minutes ago. I then take a single step forward and I push my blade into the woman’s heart, killing her instantly and absorbing her soul with the same practiced ease that I have been taking the souls of her fellow exiles. I retract my blade, and as I do I allow my wicked, wight-creating magic to flow into her as well.

The woman’s eyes are still and frozen for only a few moments before they begin to fill with an eerie, otherworldly blue light. The wights that had just been holding her let go of the woman as they sense her becoming like them, and I begin to smile darkly at the fifth figure to join my undead retinue.

I order the creatures to go and begin to search through the tower. There are plenty of beds, wardrobes, and cupboards to search through and I watch my undead minions begin to get to work. I eventually turn and climb up the two sets of stairs that separate me from the top of the tower.

When I reach the top floor of the tower I find myself standing right beside a strange gazebo-like platform, the sort that I know, thanks to perks, are of orcish make. There is a grand chest next to one of the small wooden pillars that is propping up the platform and I look at it curiously.

I approach the thing and open it, only to find it filled with a few different objects. One of the big ones is a big bag filled with dozens of septims, the currency of the empire, and then there are things like an enchanted dagger and a gleaming orb made of prismatic metal. I touch the orb and as soon as I do I hear a voice almost yell into my mind.

“A new hand touches the beacon. Listen. Hear me and obey. A foul darkness has seeped into my temple. A darkness that you will destroy. Return my beacon to Mount Kilkreath. And I will make you the instrument of my cleansing light." The voice commands, and I grimace as the voice finally stops talking.

The voice did not identify itself, but my perks grant me knowledge of this setting befitting a scholar and I can tell from the way that the voice spoke that it belongs to Meridia, the daedric prince of life and light. A split second later a textbox appears in my mind’s eye.

[Alert: Championship Opportunity

The daedric princes seek champions. As powerful as they are on their own, if they have champions they can extend their reach and they can play more active roles in the politics of Nirn. There are quests that can be undertaken by those who seek to become the champions of the princes, and if you take these quests and succeed in them you can become a prince’s champion. This will not only see you gaining the artifacts of the prince, but also a series of powerful abilities tied to the domains of the prince in question.

Meridia’s quest is simple: go to her temple in Mount Kilkreath, and slay the forces befouling it. By doing so you will gain the respect of her followers, the ability to use her artifacts, and the perks she offers those who enact her will.]

I am still as I read the textbox. When I finish reading the thing, I chuckle as I realize that I am being presented with an intriguing opportunity here… If I opt to venture to Mount Kilkreath, in the depths of Haafingar, a hold on the northeastern part of Skyrim, I can gain power over light, life, and gain the power to deal greater damage to undead creatures. Sadly, though, Haafingar is on the other side of the province and the trip there will take at least days as I am now… But, when I reach the distant hold I’ll be able to travel back and forth between there and here instantly!

I eventually refocus on more immediate concerns, and I pocket the septims tucked away in the chest. As I do I feel the power of [Give and Take] type magic wash over me, and I shudder as energy flows out of the septims and into me. The energy created by the process of taking wealth fills me, and I smirk as I feel the power of the economy become a part of my very being.

I allow the energy to settle inside of me before I take the remaining contents of the treasure chest into my inventory, things like a few potions and the enchanted dagger. When I am done I shut the treasure chest and I make my way back down the staircase leading to and from the bottom of the tower.

As I reach the level right below the top of the tower I see one of the wights hard at work. The creature has arranged the loot from this floor of the tower all over the decently wide chamber we are in. The dimly lit place is wide enough for several beds to line the wall, and for a small table to be positioned in the middle of the room, and all of the beds and the table are covered in the spoils of war.

Outfits, weapons, rations, and more cover the available surfaces of the chamber. The creature, empowered by perks I possess which allow even my simplest summons and revivals to be smarter than they ought to be, has taken care to methodically arrange the items in ways that allow me to study them even as I walk down the stairs. The creature is working alone, but it is a diligent worker and I smile as I see what it has been up to over the last few minutes.

I take a few moments and I begin to collect the items my servant has diligently placed for me to inspect. There is a lot of goods for me to stuff into my inventory, and I am quite happy that I possess the thing since with it I can readily take lots of goodies with me.

---

The young Nord spends the next few minutes diligently exploring the tower and, aided by his wights, stripping it of the goods it once safeguarded. He is thorough in his exploration, and with the help afforded to him by his wights he is able to take all of the tower’s once-guarded valuables.

When he is done exploring the tower he finds himself at the bottom of the thing, armed with many pounds of new items that he is eager to offload. He and his bizarre retinue quietly look at the door leading in and out of the tower, with a bittersweet look on his face.

“Alright… So I now know that I have the power to survive dangerous missions like this one.” He eventually mutters, which is met with a chorus of groans from his undead followers. He stifles a laugh when he hears the creatures next to him groan in what might well be approval of his remarks.

For a moment the creature wonders where to go next. He is now done with his mission, but he is smart enough to know that if he instantly travels back to Riften he might well hint at the supernatural nature of his potent powers, which isn’t that big of a deal but it is still something that he wishes to avoid doing right away. Eventually, the creature reaches into his inventory and is surprised when he sees a brand new keychain tucked away within it.

He mentally touches the thing and his curiosity is stoked when he reads the thing’s description. All it says is that it is an upgradeable keychain with a key to his “Personal Reality”. He pulls it out of the inventory and gazes at the curiously futuristic-looking item with an inscrutable look on his face. As he gazes at the thing he gains knowledge of how to operate it, and that knowledge compels him to walk over to the door leading in and out of the tower and shut it.

He looks up at the shut door and waits a beat before approaching the door and sticking the robotically-themed key affixed to the techy keychain into the lock for the door and twisting it. The young nord than opens the door and smiles when he finds himself looking into the foyer of a strange, extradimensional space.

“The keychain… worked?” The figure asks, not directing his question to anyone in particular, with a look of disbelief on his face as he steps into what he knows to be his very own “Personal Reality”. As soon as he does that the wights that were just behind him vanish abruptly, but Hendall can sense them suddenly entering his inventory which gives the nord a reason to pause but not one that is enough to stop him from stepping forward into “his” personal reality and shutting the door leading in and out of it behind him.

The look of curiosity on his face is one that mixes childlike wonder with the keen thought process of a practiced scientist and scholar. He excitedly studies his new and strange surroundings, eager to see what he can do with this new space to lord over and run however he wishes.