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61.15% Unbound Familiar / Chapter 436: Laverius' Kinks

Chapter 436: Laverius' Kinks

The wood elf sneers, ignoring his tentacle comment, "All this posturing, I too would be scared if I had to face me. I was born under the stars of the Ritual, taught the mysteries of magic as a child, and brought under the wing of my Lord, Hermaeus Mora, who has granted me more power and knowledge than you could ever grasp!" they exclaim and gesture at Karakis, continuing.

"And then there's you. A pitiful Nord welp who found themselves under the thrall of the very creature your ancestors despised and reviled! What would they think of you now? What would they do if they saw you as Boethiah's lapdog!?"

Karakis sniffs in derision, "Probably not good things. Nothing better than what your family would say, do they know old squid-head takes you up the arse? Does he make you read books to his as he does it?" he laughs before shaking his head, noticing that he'd come off the best during their little exchange. "Whatever, let's not lollygag any longer than we need to... I am Karakis, no name." he says with not a little bit of sadness at having to forgo his family name, "What is your name, elf. I'll need to know it for your gravestone... Unless you wish to be cremated? I don't know how elves deal with their dead." he shrugs noncommittally.

"I am Laverius of Arenthia, I would say it's an honour to fight you but, lying to your face before killing you doesn't sit well." he smarmily says.

Karakis hums, "well, at the very least you can banter better than your stick-up-the-arse brethren I've slaughtered until now." he shoots back, rolling his shoulder as he draws his weapon... A large ebony battle-axe. Sure, it was a completely offensive weapon, but when you wore the best armour in Tamriel, there was simply no better alternative.

Laverius nods and begins the fight by conjuring a storm of freezing ice in Karakis' direction... Only to frown when it does nothing to the man, aside from making his armour damp with moisture.

Karakis brushes some wayward ice from his shoulder before looking back at Laverius, "Is it my turn yet, boy?"

Laverius shrugs, readying the Black Book in his left hand, "If you wish to try."

Karakis grins, "Alright, ready yourself." he warns before taking a step forward, "WULD!" he shouts, causing his form to blitz forward a couple meters, causing Laverius' eyes to widen in surprise, the Nord wasn't yet upon him, but he was now far closer than he'd anticipated.

"Nice trick, but the weak voice of Kyne won't be enough!" he says as he thrusts the Black Book forwards, its pages splaying open as it reveals the contents of its texts to Karakis.

Abruptly, black tentacles explode from it, as if Laverius had just opened the gateway to a realm filled with nothing but tentacles and giant insidious sea monsters.

"See what I mean!?" Karakis exclaims as the tentacles force him to retreat backwards in order to avoid being grabbed. They scrape along the ground while steadily slithering towards him, Karakis brings his axe down on one of them, but cutting one short did little to stop the tie headed his way.

"Just give up and submit! Your armour, while powerful, is nothing in the face of Lord Hermaeus Mora!" Laverius shouts as he struggles to resist the pull of the Black Book. While it was a powerful offensive tool, he himself could find himself dragged into Apocrypha if he lost focus.

Unfortunately for Laverius, he hadn't noticed that the black tentacles sprouting from the Black Book were steadily slowing down, all affected by the poison generated by the Ebony Mail. This allowed Karakis to quickly chop at the slimy tendrils, eventually forcing them back into the Black Back, causing it to slam shut-in Laverius' hand.

"Not. Good. Enough. Milk-drinker!" Karakis roars as he charges forward again, his armour easily deflecting the few spells fired by Laverius.

The Bosmer was already a bit ragged, having the Black Book forced shut had given him some backlash, not enough to instantly lose the fight, but enough to make him wary of continuing it.

Shaking his head as he observed the charging Nord, he opens the Black Book again, though, this time he begins reciting a spell from the scrawling, crawling, and ever-moving words held within the pages. "Hkar, Lagarhk, Suilnoh, Nakei Twai!" he shouts, causing a huge black shadow to spread along the floor like a conjured swamp, the ground slumping slightly as a black fluid begins filling it.

Karakis movement was instantly restricted as the fluid turned rigid, like tar, then many huge black tentacles explode from the newly made swamp, not only that, but creatures from Apocrypha such as Seekers and Lurkers also emerge from the water, the creatures quickly surrounding a giddy-looking Karakis.

"These your friends? Must be lonely to resort to this sorry lot." the Nord remarks as he observes the disgusting creatures around him. "I'll do you a favour in sending them back to the shit-hole they came from!" he says as he begins hacking away at the Lovecraftian-looking creatures, his ebony axe tearing through their thick slimy skin, like a butcher's knife through boiled leather.

Laverius casts yet more spells, but they only prove to harm his own allies instead of Karakis, the Nord's Ebony Mail proving superior to any magic the Bosmer could possibly muster.

It doesn't take long for Karakis to cut a path through the creatures of Apocrypha, he shouts "WULD!" one last time, positioning himself next to Laverius and allowing the opportunity to get a strike it.

Laverius attempts to retreat but is forced to thrust the Black Book forwards defensively as he isn't able to cast a spell quick enough... Karakis axe knocks the book from Laverius' hand, and the next attack plants the weapon firmly in Laverius' skull, killing him and eliminating the Champion of Hermaeus Mora from the Hunt with finality.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Niggross Niggross

Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!

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Faruk Ereng

Chapter 437: Ulfric Stormcloak

Ulfric Stormcloak sits around a large circular table with his advisors, each currently discussing the terrible omens of the Blood Moon. As regular wary and superstitious Nords, each had their own ideas as to why so many ominous things had been happening at late.

Ulfric disregarded most of their haphazard opinions, despite the fact he had little to no idea about the situation himself. Most of the people present were letting their emotions and preconceived notions get the better of them, some even believing that the Dunmer presence in Windhelm was the reason for all their troubles... Despite the fact that the Moon Sickness and Blood Moon affected all locations equally.

Fortunately, there were some people he could rely on for sensible opinions. "Galmar," he starts, causing his other advisors to go silent as he speaks, "Ominous tidings side, how goes our attempts at garnering Tahlin's assistance?"

Ulfric's housecarl gives a noncommittal shrug, "No response as of yet. His last response stated that he wished to be uninvolved in this war, but hopefully he should change his mind now that he has... 'People' to look after."

Ulfric lets out a sigh, "Your reluctance to even consider them worthy of respect might be one of the many reasons for his wish to stay out of the war." he turns his attention to the others at the table, "While I understand your reticence towards the elves, these 'Eredar' hold no relation to them."

"Forgive me, Jarl, but for all we know they could be biding their time for another invasion! Our ancestors may have fought off the Rapist and the Destroyer, but Skyrim is in no state to respond to anything on that level! Besides, if their blood is blue then I doubt there's any hope for a true friendship between us Nord's and them." a man with a grey beard states, completely dismissive of any type of alliance between the strange, magically attuned Eredar.

"And that's where you're wrong, Hhalt, my spies painted a pretty clear picture of them. One that isn't so far from our own traditions. While most use magic, it seems that it's mainly the women who utilise it, leaving the men to better themselves partially as any Nord would. They also hold honour in high regard, Jarl Korir despite his shambles of a territory wishes for Stormcloak rule, so if he isn't able to find fault then the Eredar are likely who they purport themselves to be." Ulfric explains. "Having them on our side could make up our severe lack of magical support... Like it or not, magic is and will always be a factor to address."

Most of the men at the table grumble in reluctance at Ulfric's words, despite the fact that they all knew it to be true. While warriors of old might be able to match legendary mages, that time was far behind them. Unless you were like Ulfric and utilised the Thu'um, most mages could beat elite Stormcloak soldiers with little issue.

"Be that as it may, I doubt these, 'Eredar', will be willing to fight a war after supposedly escaping one that doomed most of their people." another man grumbles.

Galmar drinks from his ale, "It's always fightin' with you lot. Can't think outta the box. Those mages don't need to fight to be useful... Unless you think having each of our men using enchanted armour and weaponry would be useless?" he says, shutting the others up as they think it over.

Ulfric would have honestly loved to have the resident Dunmer help in the war effort, especially with their magical know-how, unfortunately, his people's disregard of all those who didn't share their blood was a detriment, despite it building closer bonds between other Nords via their joined hatred of the 'others'

He knew well enough just how powerful magic could be during the Great War, he'd only survived it because of his skills with the Thu'um. If Skyrim had any hope in opposing the Thalmor then they needed to integrate magic into their traditions. He hoped that the Eredar and their similarities with his people would assist that.

While Ulfric was deep in thought, he's addressed by his Court Wizard, Wuunferth the Unliving, who'd received the name first because of how many experiments exploded in his face, and second because he'd managed to live so long despite it all. "My Jarl! My attempts at scrying have gleaned something! Two servants of the Daedra Lords are fighting not far from the city, and one of them seems to have been responsible for all the ruined caravans, this 'Black Bandit'."

Galmar sniffs humorously at the name, "Heh, 'Black Bandit', sounds like something a Redguard prostitute would call herself."

Ulfric shakes his head, "Enough of that, Galmar." he says before looking to Wuunferth, "Can you tell who they belong to?"

The mage nods, "Easily. Their artifacts are far too eyecatching for me not to... One bearing a Black Book of Hermaeus Mora, and the other wearing the Ebony Mail of Boethiah."

"So the Book-Worm and the Brutal She-Male," Galmar utters incredulously, "Better leave them to kill each other so we can clean up what's left. Getting between them now is a disaster waitin' to happen."

Wuunferth nods, "My idea precisely General, but you must begin mobilising now if you'll have any chance of catching them. I know not what the victor will do, whether they'll escape or continue harassing the roads."

Ulfric stands from his chair, "Galmar, get the men in order. Bring the same number as when last we faced one of those damned Black Books. Wuunferth, would you accompany us? I fear my lack of knowledge in areas of magic may harm us."

The elderly mage nods, "At once, Jarl. Allow me to gather my things."

"Meet us at the stables, we ride as soon as possible!" he says as he leaves, Galmar and a few others following along, their Nord blood boiling for a fight.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
Niggross Niggross

Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!

Also, thanks to my patrons for their support :

ShinAmazake

Kingsprovince

Faruk Ereng

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