As I exit the castle, I gaze up into the sky and spot the sun as it begins what will surely be a long descent below the horizon. The thing powerfully radiates magicka, a form of energy that I can casually see. The powerful energy suffuses life in this setting, including myself, and it is what allows the people of this universe to use magic.

My mind is racing with all sorts of thoughts as I casually stroll towards the marketplace that I first walked through hours ago. I am armed with many more powers and items than I had been hours ago, and several of my powers and items are synergistic nightmares that build and feed on each other.

At the moment, one of my scariest abilities is the ability of my brain and my mind to facilitate and manage multiple trains of thought at the same time. Because of this ability I can effortlessly think about many different things at the same time without any of the individual streams of consciousness lowering in quality due to multitasking.

This ability allows me to push my mind to places I didn’t imagine I’d be able to just hours ago. I initially began to use this ability, one of the abilities I attained from the [Essence of the Scholarly Monster] minutes ago in Mistveil Keep.

Multiple of the many trains of thought I have created in the minutes since just before I accepted my reward for liberating the watchtower are devoted to strategizing about efficient ways to use my powers. The powerful trains of thought have already formulated many different strategies that will be of critical use to me in the days to come now that I am armed with many wholly alien powers and abilities.

I step into the marketplace in time to see a handsome, if perhaps a bit worn-looking, nordic man speaking to a crowd. He is talking loudly about what I immediately recognize as “Snake Oil”, though something tells me that if I called it that the people of this world would not understand what I mean. The man is a con artist, though a skilled one. My senses are also easily sharp enough for me to notice the thin, female breton thief sneaking up behind one of the merchants listening to the conversation.

The argonian, a simple jewelry and gemstone merchant, is blissfully unaware of the theft that is transpiring. To the thief’s credit the figure who she is stealing from is right next to his wares and is so engrossed in the snake oil salesman’s pitch that he doesn’t notice her. I momentarily consider warning the man, even indirectly, but I quickly elect to allow this to play out.

I study the thief as she skillfully picks a difficult to spot lock located near the bottom of the stall the humble merchant is using to hawk his wares. She is at least not terrible at her chosen profession and I learn a thing or two about lockpicking as I study her. I do so both with my eyes and with a manifestation of “Editoria”, one of the keychain magicks I can use, which allows me to read a detailed description of what the woman is doing by focusing on one of my several trains of thought.

“Editoria” is a powerful form of magic that, when utilized, alerts my perception of the world. When I use it I gain awareness of a script-like way of perceiving reality that allows me to “read” the world around me, instead of seeing and physically sensing it. Because of my ability to have multiple trains of thought I can devote a train to my “Script Sense” which is the name given by my system to this peculiar “sense”, all without temporarily sacrificing my ability to use my other, more mundane senses.

By reading the world around me I can not only perceive actions around me in a new manner, I can also see ever so slightly into the future. I can “read ahead” in the script, just a bit, and because of this I can react to things before they are meant to happen. I do this, just to see if the thief will succeed, and I learn that she will prove capable enough to overcome the costly lock that the argonian put on his stall.

I watch her for a few more seconds before deciding I’ve seen enough and I continue walking through the marketplace. It only takes me a few minutes to find myself out of Riften completely. Before I know it I am on the road leading in and out of the city even as the sun continues a slow descent towards the horizon. I study the mostly untamed wilderness around me and sigh. The vista I can see is gorgeous, but it’s deeply unhelpful. The area around me, aside from Riften, is both almost completely untamed and also devoid of artificial structures.

“I’d be wise to find a place to serve as my base of operations…” I mutter, even as I wonder what direction to go in. I now possess abilities that allow me to do a lot, ranging from creating life so long as I have objects to infuse souls into, to doing things like creating buildings with ease through the magic of the Valyrian Freehold.

If I want to both use these abilities as effectively as I can, and do so safely I need a private space in which I can use my abilities without people questioning me. I know a few ways to get a place like that… I can occupy an abandoned place, or make an illegally occupied place abandoned by force. Fortunately, I have the power to do either of those things, I just need to find a place to make my own.

I walk until I know I cannot be seen by the guards stationed outside of Riften. When I reach a place I feel comfortable initiating the next step in my plan, a clearing in the middle of the woods not far from Riften, I activate one of my more peculiar “Commander” powers: “Drone Controller”.

The second that this power is activated many small machines, ones the size of a large shield, begin to seep out of me. For several moments the curious machines seem to phase into existence by exiting my body, until they surround me.

The strange machines float in mid-air, their spherical bodies held aloft by four propellers that spin at incredible speeds. There are a few different types of drones in my arsenal, “Recon” drones that even now move about at high speeds and wield what I recognize through alien knowledge as guns, “Medical” drones that radiate restorative energy, “Attack” drones armed with bigger guns than the “Recon” ones, and “Shield” drones which emanate a surprisingly wide bubble of energy that if struck suppresses enemy attacks unless struck by something sufficiently powerful.  

The machines are all under my mental control. With a thought I can command them all, or I can separate them into groups which I can individually command using my mind.

Even with my powers it can be difficult to explore a region as massive as a hold by myself. Fortunately… I am not by myself. I separate the drones into numerous groups even as I approach the machines and begin to cast a few different spells on them.

I cast spells like “Mark” on the machines to grant me the ability to instantly teleport to their locations, as well as apply potent armor-boosting spells to their metallic chassis. I even cast spells that make the machines invisible to the naked eye! It takes me several minutes to cast the spells on the one hundred plus machines I control but when I finish I order the machines to explore the hold, and watch as the things take to the skies and begin to spread out.

My multifaceted mind is connected to each of the machines, and I sense what surrounds each of them. I can see as though I am one of the machines, and I study the stunning and scenic views throughout the hold with ease as the machines speedily explore the place. I am treated to the sight of glorious mountain ranges, stunning ponds, and I can lay my eyes on all sorts of architecture and infrastructure as my machines stealthy explore the hold.

I spend the next several minutes allowing my machines to explore The Rift. Doing so is highly informative for me and allows me to observe all sorts of curious goings-ons, such as seeing a tribe of orcs get chewed out by their chieftain, or watching skeletons and more fleshy undead working on a small tower right next to the entrance of some cave or mine.

Perhaps ten minutes pass before a group of drones has sufficiently explored an area not far from Riften enough that I begin commanding them to enter select locations. The first location the group of drones enters is a dark, surprisingly wide mine, where I can only see because darkness does not inhibit my ability to perceive my surroundings, even in this remote state.

I focus on these drones, intrigued by the possibility of occupying a mine. Even a tapped out mine can be a surprisingly defensible place to occupy, and if I decide to start up a mercenary company all my own making our headquarters a mine makes sense. The drones methodically explore the mine, even separating into a few sub-groups to do so more efficiently.

The mine is a simple place, and I can tell that it was abandoned fairly recently. There is not a soul in it, aside from a handful of fish in a small pool of water created by a subterranean waterfall that hides a cave where a few untouched gold veins are positioned next to the crushed remains of some long-decayed skeleton.

 A few tunnels extend out of a central area, where the waterfall has created a tiny pool of water, and while torches are placed along the walls of the mine they stopped burning some time ago. The various tunnels that branch out of the central area are all dead ends that miners stopped working on whenever they realized that an individual area would not give them any precious ore worth having.

I study the mine for several minutes, commanding the drones to explore every inch of the place. By the time they are done and I am satisfied with their exploration I have noted every single object in the place, and I have memorized where each of the mine’s tunnels go. I eventually order all of the drones to return to my inventory, aside from the one group in the mine, and shudder as I sense the drones returning to my interdimensional space.

I cast “Recall” and teleport into the abandoned mine. The process of leaping from the wooded clearing into the dark mine is a bit jarring but I smirk when I find myself right next to one of my drones in the depths of the lonely cavern.

The sounds of the wooded clearing are replaced by the sounds of the machines that are my only, current, companions. I allow my senses to adjust to the strange scenery that now surrounds me, even as I will these last drones to return to my inventory. They vanish as abruptly as the other drones did, and I find myself alone in the mine.

I begin to slowly make my way towards the central area of the mine, deftly sidestepping uneven terrain and scattered debris with supernatural grace. It only takes me a few moments to reach the mine’s central area. In this large chamber the waterfall fills the space with a solidly loud amount of noise, and there are many more objects than there are in the tunnels. For example, this is clearly meant to be the living area of the mines, with beds arrayed atop a small platform that faces the

I walk up to a small table where several pieces of miner’s equipment have been laid out and have had time to gather rust. The display is curious, but it is also handy for me as it gives me a perfect chance to utilize the greatest and most mysterious of my “Commander” powers: the ability to bring objects to life.

I focus first on the most quintessential piece of mining equipment present in the cavern: an old, iron pickaxe. The partially rusted thing begins to glow when I focus on it, and I silently cast a few spells to repair and polish the thing. When I am done it is glittering and gleaming as though it were somehow brand new and expertly made. I chuckle, as I focus very intensely on the signature power of a commander: “Awakening”.

As I push the incredibly powerful ability tucked away deep inside of me to work for the first time I feel a powerful heat begin to emerge inside of me. The heat is in my chest, and I smile as I feel it grow hotter and hotter. As a nord I am not fireproof, and this is moderately painful, all while feeling like I am being cooked from the inside-out. Despite the pain I can smile quite brightly, as I recognize the kind of power that I possess is unbelievably potent.

I am creating a soul and with every passing moment I can feel the soul I am creating maturing and growing in wisdom, power, and potential. The pain stings far less keenly when I focus my mind on the true significance of what I am doing here: creating my own custom-made servants and allies.

As the soul matures within me I am pleasantly surprised to see a curious menu appear in my mind’s eye. The menu is detailed and contains numerous tables, all of which ask me about what I envision this soul’s “humanoid form” looking like, as well as information about what, if any, memories the awakened item is to have, what sort of knowledge they have from the jump, and more.

One of the only curiosities about this part of creating a soul is that I can, for now anyway, only create nordic and orsimer souls. That is a minor annoyance, but not a significant one and so I push through it to continue working on the soul I am handcrafting. Time around me slows to a crawl as I fill out the menu, and in doing so create my very first living minion.

In almost no time at all I have filled out the menu and when I inform it that I am done time speeds up and the pickaxe in front of me begins to emanate a massive amount of light. The light is almost blinding by the time the silhouette of the thing begins to subtly grow and become the silhouette of a person a fair deal shorter than me. When the morphing of the silhouette is done the light begins to slowly fade, and when it is completely gone a young nord is sitting on the table and looking at me curiously.

“Hey boss! It’s nice to meet you.” He says, rather informally. He is a shirtless figure with tanned skin and he has powerful muscles. He smiles at me while I study him.

We are both quiet for several moments. Eventually the nord clears his throat, indicating that he is waiting for me to say something. I almost jump when he does this, as I was not expecting him to do something like that.

“Sorry, I was just admiring my handiwork. I was almost unsure of whether or not I’d be able to actually pull off creating you. Seeing you is… It means something.” I say, a thin and gentle laugh emanating from me seconds after I finish speaking. His smile turns into a smirk, and he pats one of the objects next to him: a steel ingot. I take a quiet breath and nod at the figure, before willing another soul to begin to form within me.

This time the pain is noticeably less intense, which I am thankful for. I find the process of filling out the menu easier as well, and in almost no time at all the iron ingot is glowing just as brilliantly as the pickaxe-turned-miner was moments ago.

He watches this intently, and even when blinding light fills the cavern he refuses to look away. We both watch the silhouette of the ingot change into the silhouette of a young woman, and when the light fades we find ourselves looking at a lightly armored nordic woman whose skin dully resembles the iron ingot from which she was fashioned.

“Hello there.” I say, smiling at the woman who begins to smile back almost immediately.

Over the course of the next few minutes, I carefully repeat this process over and over until I have created several allies and servants. Shortly thereafter I find myself accompanied by a few of them and standing outside of the mine itself. I quietly study the area around the mine, which is itself situated at the edge of one of the mountain ranges that surrounds this part of Skyrim. As I study the area my thoughts are interrupted by one of my creations.  

“So boss, what’s the plan here?” Asks one of my new creations, specifically the awakened pickaxe. I turn to face the shirtless nord and smile at him.

“Well… The immediate plan is for us to plant roots here. Doing so won’t be hard, as I have several abilities and items that can help, but I want to set up a base here.” I explain, even as I reach into my backpack and “retrieve” one of my new items: a “Lively Tavern and Inn”. When I pull the thing out of my backpack it manifests in the form of a crystal ball in which a diorama of a tavern and inn spins in circles.

“I can draw power from wealth, my friends. So I want to begin to accumulate wealth. Setting up a base is a handy way to do that, as it makes it easier to find me.” I state, while I survey the area in front of me in search of the perfect place for me to toss the inn I own.

“Give and Take” one of the keychain magicks that I now, revolves around the power in accruing wealth. That, coupled with perks I now own that allow me to do things like sacrifice wealth to heal or empower myself, as well as curious psychological traits that affect me due to my nature as a [Scholarly Monster] make me want to horde wealth.

“Plus, if we set up shop somewhere it’ll be easier for us to establish ourselves as a mercenary company. I happen to own an item that is perfect for that as well, an area that is even now endlessly producing mundane weapons, armor, and other supplies for war. With my commander powers… Well, with my commander powers and a facility dedicated to endlessly producing weapons and other tools of war, we have an army.” I mutter, my sharp mind firmly cognizant of just how mighty some combinations of items and perks can be. I glance at my creations, and they are all grinning at me.

“A mercenary company huh? That sounds interesting…” One of the awakened iron ingots, not the one I turned into a woman, utters. He sounds excited.

Skyrim is in the middle of a violent civil war. There is plenty of room for a new, singularly talented mercenary company to rise to fame and acquire fortune during this war, and each violent conflict I am in directly empowers me thanks to my nature as a warlord… I just need to get my foot in the door.  

While I am lost in thought I absentmindedly toss the crystal ball contacting the inn into a fine-looking area not far from the mine situated close to a tiny pool of water. The crystal ball shatters when it hits the hard ground between the mine and the pond. I watch the inn grow in size as it touches the ground for the first time.

My companions and I watch the multi-story building grow for several seconds. As it grows we are able to hear things forming inside of the building, and even the sounds of idle conversation. Even while the inn is growing I begin to feel the strange and familiar sense of objects of value becoming my possessions, specifically the exciting rush that accompanies being paid.

By the time the inn is fully formed and has stopped growing I can peer into windows on the first floor of the building and see, to my surprise, customers engaging with staff. I can easily tell waitresses and patrons apart just by looking at them, and with every few seconds that pass I can easily feel shiver-inducing pleasure as septims become mine, even if this rush of excitement is lacking in intensity compared to when I experience the rush because of my direct actions.

---

The slowly developing fetus of a faction of individuals who serve the nordic warrior-mage do not sit idly by when their creator and master places down the inn. Every person in the faction, at the moment a number less than ten not counting the generic nords who run the inn and tavern, hurls themselves into tasks assigned to them by their leader mere minutes after the inn stops growing.

Some individuals, such as the nord himself, do things that are visually impressive. Hendall’s first usage of the magic of the Valyrian Freehold is to create a series of walls around the mine he has claimed for his own for the sake of more cleverly protecting his home. Others, like the pickaxe-turned-nord, hurl themselves into less impressive work such as outfitting the depths of the mine with some of the equipment owned by Hendall or scouting its depths for the sake of seeing what, if anything, can be extracted from the odd mine.

Minutes turn into hours as the newly formed proto-faction busies itself. Eventually the sun dips below the horizon and Nirn’s multiple moons rise into the sky, shining a miniscule amount of light onto the planet, even as Hendall and his minions continues to work.

At various points throughout the night Hendall himself exits the mine and does strange things. The first odd thing he does is walk out of the mine, straight to the tiny pond of crystal clear water located in front of the mine, and drop a seed into it. The purple seed is a strange thing that radiates a foul miasma even as it is dropped into the water. The instant that the thing is fully submerged it begins to dissolve, but as it does its sickly aura spreads throughout the pond and for a brief moment the water is jet black.

Hendall watches this, and when the water seemingly returns to its past state the warrior nods, satisfied by what has just occurred. Almost nothing gives away that something sinister has occurred, aside from a subtle and nearly imperceptible ripple that flows out from where the seed was dropped. Hendall promptly returns to the mine, seemingly unconcerned by whether or not his actions were actually successful.

The other actions that the nord undertakes are similarly mysterious. He will exit the mine, walk to some area an indeterminate distance from where the mine, and then drop odd seeds into the ground or forcefully plant them in trees. These actions, coupled with his oversight of the transformations occurring inside of the mine, occupy him for the night, and then for the next two days. During this time he takes his time to familiarize himself with strange and frightening new abilities, as well as to use items that he owns thanks to the essences that are now empowering him.