(General POV)
Within the unusually empty confines of Reyvin's mansion, a clandestine meeting of great importance was taking place.
Well, it was about to anyway...
"Come on little girl, I thought mages were supposed to be all smart and tactical" A short Dunmer with a sharp goatee mocked his opponent in a game of chess.
Said opponent, a silver-haired young woman, glared at him and scoffed "I have better things to do in my life than waste it on games." she retorted icily.
Davos rolls his eyes and captures her rook, much to Edrassa's growing frustration "It sounds to me like you are just looking for excuses for being bad~" He mocks playfully.
Edrassa growls and seems just about ready to smash the board in her fury when a presence presses down on her, causing her to still completely.
Reyvin, who was up until then busying himself reading through the notes Edrassa made on the book they captured from the Falmer, looks up at them, his eyes glowing lightly "Now, now children, behave." he smirks and grabs another bite of roast horker he got from a street vendor.
As his presence dissipates his vassals are silenced for but a moment, until Davos decides to ask "What is your obsession with street meat? You seem to be addicted to the stuff."
Reyvin shrugs and takes another bite "I just think it is neat."
"And this is who I am supposed to serve..." Edrassa grumbles to herself, completely unaware that both Davos and Reyvin are perfectly capable of hearing her.
The two vassals return to their game, Davos completely outmaneuvering his young counterpart in every single game they played.
After yet another check-mate was declared Edrassa groaned and sunk into her seat "How can someone like you be this good?"
Davos clutches his chest as if struck "Someone like me? Whatever do you mean princess?"
Her eyes narrow but she doesn't take the bait.
A series of knocks interrupts their discussion and their lord raises a lazy hand, opening the large double door leading into the dining hall.
Three similar-looking Dunmer enter the room, looking at the place with reverence and immediately giving the manor's lord a respectful bow. The eldest of the three brothers speaks up after realizing Reyin is waiting on them "We are here as requested, Serjo."
"And so you are" Their employer nodded and signaled for them to take a seat. After they were comfortable he continued "I have invited you here to offer you a... promotion of sorts."
The brothers looked very enthused by the idea, but the elder spoke up yet again "Something tells me this is not as simple as you surmised, Serjo." His tone is cautious yet still utterly respectful.
Reyvin nods in satisfaction "Indeed it is not Oren..." He trails off for a moment before continuing "The things I will share with you tonight you are to keep to yourselves on pain of death" He states seriously, the air in the room suddenly thrumming with power further making his point "If you do not wish to take such a risk upon yourselves then you may leave and I will not think any less of you, but know that if you prove your further loyalty to me great rewards shall await."
The brothers whisper among themselves, while the rest give them their privacy, or at least the illusion of it. After a couple of minutes of quiet hissing between them, Oren speaks up once again "We would like to continue serving you as best as we can."
Reyvin smiles welcomingly and gets up from his seat, wordlessly signaling everyone to follow him. The group descends deep below ground, and most are baffled as their host starts unlocking a door at the end of a long staircase, not because of its location but because of the dozens of no-doubt enchanted locks placed upon it.
Finally, the door clicks open and Reyvin leads everyone into his ancestral shrine, the regalia of his house proudly displayed for all to see, wind chimes letting out a calming melody as the air in the room shifts at their entrance.
As Edrassa visibly shivers at the iconography, no doubt remembering the tales her house spread about the bloody conflict against the sixth house, Davos is busy shivering at the sight of the shrine of Mephala which seemed to glow almost welcomingly upon Reyvin's entrance.
The three brothers are, unsurprisingly, confused. They were after all orphans from the Grey Quarter, and their education was limited to whatever the local drunks were willing to share on certain evenings, they were most assuredly not educated on the heraldry of believed-to-be-dead houses.
"Allow me then, my dear subjects, to introduce myself fully" Reyvin finally says, and his whole presence shifts from his hitherto relaxed posture to one lordship and command, all eyes focus on him as he proclaims proudly "Lord Dagoth Reyvin, the last descendant of Morrowind's sixth house.".
The three brothers gape, completely forgetting they were in the presence of their employer, and the youngest among them even flinches. They may not have been taught the heraldry, but horror stories of the sixth house persisted even to this day.
Reyvin waits patiently for them to calm down, which they do after some urging from their eldest sibling, and speaks once again "I know that the stigma on my house might make you think that I am trying to replicate my grandfather's exploits, but I assure you that it is not so."
All three flinch this time at the confirmation of Reyvin's ancestry but after the recent shock, they gather themselves with surprising quickness. This time it is Maren, the middle brother, who speaks "And what exactly are your goals... your lordship?"
Reyvin shrugs, magnanimously ignoring the lack of proper decorum... as if he ever cared for such things, and smirks "My goals are those of any other lordly Dunmer, to gather power and influence and lead my people to a better future." He raises an inviting hand "And I wish to grant you the opportunity to join me in this task, as Sworn Mer of the house of Dagoth."
The ancestral shrine turns silent as the brothers process the information. Finally Varen, the youngest chuckles, drawing the stares of his brothers and a raised eyebrow from Reyvin "'Scuse my Aldmeri Serjo, but you could be Malakath's left sack and I'd still serve you faithfully" He sighs in melancholy and bows deeply before Reyvin "You gave us a chance at a better future when you didn't have to, and that means more to me than any ancient history of crimes committed by those long dead."
Oren cuffs his little brother's shoulder "Since when can you use such big words eh?" the youngest blushes and looks away and his two elder brothers also bow before Reyvin "My brother speaks true" Oren states firmly "We owe you our loyalty and would be deeply honored to serve a lord as generous as yourself."
Reyvin smiles in satisfaction "I am most pleased by your decision, know that your loyalty will be rewarded." He sighs "Now for the tedious part" his grumble goes unheard "The three of you shall henceforth be considered Sworn Mer of Great House Dagoth."
He points a hand toward Davos "This is my chief Retainer Davos, when I am not present you are to follow his commands" Davos' eyes widen for a moment before he nods to himself and the three brothers salute him.
Reyvin then points to a lightly fuming Edrassa, completely ignoring her foolish anger he states "And this is my other Retainer Edrassa Moabain, formerly of Great House Telvanni, you may consider her my magical advisor" He gives her a pointed look "She may hold the rank of Retainer but she has yet to prove her loyalty so you may consider her just slightly above you in the hierarchy."
Edrassa seems stuck between fury and disappointment, but then simply settles on annoyance as she realizes that her showing her discontent with her position so openly and frequently may actually have consequences.
Reyvin sighs "I shall keep the hierarchy simple for the time being, and change it depending on necessity." His demeanor shifts rapidly as he claps his hands "Now for the fun part!"
With a snap of his fingers, three neatly arranged sets of armor and halberds appear next to him "I have taken the liberty of presuming your oaths of loyalty" He chuckles "And have thusly prepared a... welcoming present."
The brothers stare in awe at the beautifully made artifacts of blackened steel, and after very little prodding from their new lord they quickly get to putting it on, and minutes later the trio of hitherto simple guards stand transformed into the visage of elite magical infantry.
The armor Reyvin chose consisted of a morion helmet and a traditional Dunmeri warrior's mask, followed by a breastplate over masterfully crafted padded armor, with bracers, shoulder guards, and greaves added as a finishing touch.
Reyvin cackled internally as he beheld his first group of Dunmeri conquistadors. Truly, the Spanish always ended up in the most unexpected of places.
Seeing as they were properly armored Reyvin smiled proudly and started explaining "The armor is enchanted to be self-cleaning, and to absorb magical attacks to an extent" He frowned as he noticed the youngest brother shiver in excitement "Please do not test the enchantments as they are made to save your lives and not for you to try and set your brothers on fire." His youngest soldier deflates instantly.
Reyvin then points at the steel halberds they now held "I have also taken the liberty of enchanting your new weapons to empower your flames and allow you to cast them through striking your foes."
All three brothers take a moment to marvel at their gifts, likely valued above most villages, and bowed deeply once more "Thank you my lord for the great gift!" All three intoned.
"A reward, not a gift" Reyvin corrects, his demeanor returning to his previously relaxed posture "Now that the dramatics are done, let us feast!"
His erstwhile retainers do not react to his sudden mood shift, but the three brothers find themselves doing a double take as their new Lord skips up the staircase, the door locking on its own as they follow him out.
They share a look between themselves, not really sure what to do, until once more the youngest once more proves to be the most decisive as he simply shrugs "It's free food."
The three brothers share a nod and head to the dining hall. No one dislikes free food, no one.
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Back in Solitude, the following morning, Reyvin left Sybille's chambers after the two held a very long and thorough private goodbye party. He sighed contentedly as he prepared to wake Minthara up, Marco already eagerly waiting near his portal glyph.
He frowned as the smell of alcohol assaulted his nose the moment he opened the door. His frown deepened as he saw Minthara sitting in an armchair staring into the distance absent mindedly, with dark circles under her eyes.
He wasn't really sure what to say to the young woman now looking at him tiredly "Rough night?" He settled on lamely.
Minthara snorted humorlessly "That is one hell of an understatement Flame-tongue."
"Using titles now are we oh blessed child of Akatosh?" Reyvin quips. Unlike Marco, he had never forced Minthara into referring to him as 'teacher' so she usually called him by name when they weren't at court.
She flinches in disgust and groans "I get it! Just please do not call me that... ever."
The Dunmer giggles childishly and instructs "Come on then, get up, we have a meeting later today."
She shifts in her seat and frowns "Shouldn't I be focusing on getting as strong as possible? What would I even gain from trudging through the caves of the Dwemer?"
Reyvin rolls his eyes "Well besides the obvious experience in fighting and possible contacts at one of Skyrim's most powerful institutions..." He tilts his head "Tell me, how does a Dragonborn grow stronger?"
"By consuming the souls of dragons?" She mutters absent mindedly.
"Indeed!" Reyvin nods happily "And I know just the place where one of the lizard's buried himself."
Minthara blinks slowly as she gets up "There is a living dragon in Blackreach?!" She hisses.
"Oh yes." Reyvin smirks viciously "A known coward among his kind, chomping on his soul will surely give you the strength necessary to start growing your power even further."
"You seem to have all this planned out, huh?" Minthara mutters, not accusingly, but there was definitely something in her tone.
Reyvin cackled like a madman causing her to look at him as such "Oh Minthara" He turns with his eyes glowing derisively "I have no fucking idea what I am doing."
The young demi-god stumbles at her teacher's words, cursing her fate and then cursing herself for breaking the bottle whose shards she now had stuck in her foot.
She sighed as she got up, slowly healing her bleeding leg 'At least I don't have to do it alone...'
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