Ralof, Surtr's new Housecarl follows his new High King through the forest, their entourage being only twenty or so men strong despite how dangerous it was to allow the High King out in such places.
He'd rather have more men at hand considering Ulfric's recent assassination, but Surtr wasn't exactly a sitting lamb waiting to be slaughtered. The man was the Dragonborn for Oblivion's sake, if the World-Eater failed to end him he doubted any mortal would manage.
Finally, Surtr seemed to find what he had been searching for, stopping before a large round ruin with a pit in the ground that'd all but been buried by foliage. An ancient dragon burial mound... "My Jarl, I hate to ask but, what are we doing out here? I doubt it's for Dragonbones with the warehouse full of them we have..."
Surtr shakes his head, "While I am looking for bones, that's my purpose... Stand back, all of you, and try not to shit yourselves." he growls as he turns his attention to the grave. "Slen Tiid Vok!"
*SHRROOOOONG!*
*CRRRRKKKK!*
The ground trembles as a large skeletal claw unearths itself, then proceeds to pull the rest of its body free, revealing a large, 'alive', skeletal dragon.
A few men scream out in fear while others hold their ground, trusting the Dragonborn to not lead them to their deaths.
Flesh and scales return to the dragon's body, rebuilding it. Eventually, it stands before Surtr with an unintelligible expression on its face. "Zu'u drun hi zek wah daar suleyksejun, dovah. Qiilaak ahrk aam zey, kriid do Alduin, vahriik wah Bormah." (I bring you back to this realm, dragon. Submit and serve me, slayer of Alduin, heir to Akatosh.) Surtr states as he locks eyes with the beast.
Vahriik wah bormah? Hi los pahlokaal, gut zos wey rok." (Heir to father? You are arrogant, far more than he.) it growls back suspiciously.
Surtr makes a show of looking around, "I don't see Akatosh disagreeing. An almighty being such as he should have the ability to reject my claims, shouldn't he?"
"Vahzah, but perhaps you are just not worth the time. Tiid fos los povaan wah rah do tiid. (Time which is abundant to the god of time.) it says, adding further insult to injury.
Surtr snarls at it in, his response sounding scarily animalistic in its tone, "Watch yourself beast, I will put you back in the ground faster than I pulled you out, I swear to that. Now, WILL. YOU. SERVE?" he growls out, letting his intent to devour its soul clear.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While the two competing Dragonborn were collecting dragons like pokemon to strengthen their respective empires, Michael was toiling in his laboratory with the Cat of Nine Lives sitting on his desk before him.
With the help of Shadow Shaman, Rubick, and a recent addition, Shadow Fiend, he'd finally discovered a way to drain the pieces of Clavicus' soul that he'd imbued in the artifacts... Of course, this did come with some issues, none of which actually concerning reality itself...
Flashback :
Michael had entered his consciousness into the world that Shadow Fiend decided in, and of course, it looked just as you'd imagine. Shadow Fiend's world somehow looked significantly worse than Mehrunes Dagon's. At least in the Daedric Prince's domain his followers were allowed some degree of freedom, if not in mind than in body.
But Shadow Fiend? His world was almost entirely comprised of a shadowy, melted substance that was almost certainly the souls of his victims. The screams were deafening, wails of the accursed screaming for release, while the shadows that formed their 'bodies' reached out to him, seeking a way out of their torment.
Michael brushes them off, aware that these souls were probably not real considering these worlds were just constructs that the Book of Demigods had created.
And, since these souls were all connected to one being, it doesn't long for Shadow Fiend to locate him... Out of the shadows a red light forms, creating two dim red orbs that glare at him with ferocity.
"What have you done, mortal... How have you acquired my soul!?" Shadow Fiend exclaims as his demonic form bursts into existence before Michael.
Michael shrugs however, "Through a series of unconnected events I've unfortunately come to possess many souls, including yours. I'd free you if I could but it seems to be impossible... So, why don't we try negotiating?"
"Hmph, most mortals know better than to negotiate with demons. You seem foolish enough however, so let's. What do you have to offer?" the demon asks, its shadowy body circling Michael like a lion hunting its prey.
"You teach me what you know about souls and their manipulation, and I'll try free you when I have the chance. Fair, isn't it?"
...
"Not fair, not fair at all! Why don't I just pluck away your soul instead? I suspect my prison won't hold after that."
Michael shakes his head, "The thing is, it's not really me that holds your soul but an object in my possession. If I die you'll still just be stuck in it, at the mercy of whoever next picks it up." he explains.
That, seems to stump the demon. Nevermore, the Shadow Fiend, was used to always having the advantage, whether it be power, knowledge, or even just knowing what his target desired most. In his current state however, in this unnatural, random place that he'd apparently gotten trapped in without his knowing, he was utterly at his captor's mercy.
"Fine, let us make the deal... But, you do know what a Devil's Deal entails?" the demon asks, holding its hand out that shimmered with crimson light.
Michael nods, "Yeah, I heard about it from a green friend of mine... Speak your true name."
"Nevermore."
"I promise to free you, Nevermore, once I have the capabilities to do so. In return, you will teach me all you know of souls, their manipulation, and their uses. Do we have an accord?"
"We do."
They shake hands, binding the agreement, and Michael began his tuition under a being potentially more evil than most Daedric Princes...
Flashback end.
Yeah, Miraak and Surtr are pretty similar at this point, the former actually having knowledge and experience to back his power. Especially after spending thousands of years in Apocrypha. Tiber Septim was probably also similar, if more restrained in his domination.
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Once he'd what he needed from Shadow Fiend he immediately headed to his lab and pulled out an artifact... And it worked, he could prod and pull at the soul piece within the artifacts with relative ease, but the only problem now was what to do with this.
He already had a good idea of what'd happen, but that was supposed to be a last resort due to the consequences that plan would have... Unfortunately, after expending all of his avenues of research he'd found that there was only one way this could go...
He rubs his forehead in thought before standing with a look of determination. "Fuck it, it's not like I can die anyway!" he exclaims, grabbing all of Clavicus' artifacts and storing them in his book, also storing Barbas in an expanded pouch much to the dog's chagrin.
The statue artifact was annoying to deal with, but he found that he could just split it into pieces without the soul piece leaving it, allowing him to store it.
He gathers all of his friends in the dining room and explains the situation to them, telling them that he was going to retrieve Charlotte and bring her back safe, whole, and hopefully with her mind intact.
There were a lot of questions, most of which Michael couldn't really answer, both because the knowledge was stupidly dangerous and also because he was sure they'd refuse to let him go if they found out.
The look on Maria's face when he announced this only made him more determined to see it through despite the troubles it'd cause...
Michae said his 'goodbyes' on the plateau at the entrance of the spire that overlooked Winterhold before flying off to overlook the city. He made sure that all of it's defences were secured, and that no spies were currently within the place.
He had no idea how long he'd be gone, so it was best to make sure there was nothing that could blindside his friends in the meantime. He performs a similar check around the other Holds, performing a cursory check to make sure no demon incursion or some other bullshit was happening.
Once he was sure Skyrim wouldn't self-destruct, he casts [Haunt], specifically targeting Charlotte and then switching places with his phantom.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Clavicus Vile scowls at his peers through the Chain of Arkmis still hung around his little servant's neck. He'd had to hide her away within some cave far off from the mainland of Tamriel for fear of that boy, Michael, killing his last real link to Nirn.
He'd killed his cult, stolen his artifacts, and barred not just him, but all his brothers and sisters from that realm... Truly, if the Princes hadn't had an enemy before, Michael Tahlin had become it.
He was still trying to formulate a plan to bring his return, yet was stumped with the situation...
Huh...
What's this feeling?
*HHHHhhhhhaaaaaasssshhhhhhhhhhh!!!!*
A screaming whisper sounds out in Clavicus' ears from the link, a ghost-like Michael Tahlin appears directly in front of his servants who immediately jumped into action.
Ice explodes outwards and freezes the entirety of the cave, the ghost is seemingly stuck in place... At least, until a *SWOOOSH!* sound erupts, causing its ghostly form to go solid, as if the realm Michael Tahlin had appeared... No. That was the real one!
"KILL HIM NOW-"
*Shatter!*
The foul rat literally steps out of the permafrost as if it didn't exist, his body shimmering with power as he reaches a hand out toward Clavicus' servant.
"TOUCH THE SLAVE AND I WILL DEVOUR HER SOUL!" he bellows from the artifact, only to pause when Michael grabs the Chain and tears the Masque from her face. He then gives a 'gentle' blow of air towards the short girl, freezing her in place with ice.
Michael looks down at the two artifacts speculatively, confusing Clavicus as to his goal... "What do you want, mortal? Leave now and I may spare the girl's soul!"
Michael smirks, "Before you do that, how about I show you something? I'm certain you'll find it of interest." he offers, silencing the Daedric Prince as he considers the words heavily, replaying them in his mind tens of thousands of times to figure out just what he wanted.
Most likely, he was mocking him, but there was a chance of it being something else... "The only thing that would interest me is your death and the destruction fo that ugly Spire!"
"Ugly? I put a lot of work into that..." Michael idly says as he pulls a book out and begins laying down items, specifically, his artifacts. Some he hadn't even realised had been stolen...
The Collector.
The Golden Stand.
The Cat of Nine Lives.
Umbra.
Then goes the Masque of Clavicus Vile and the Chain of Arkmis.
Finally, as if to put the cherry on top, the mortal pulls out Barbas from a pouch and sits him next to the artifacts...
"Master! You've gotta help me! This guy's crazy! Take me back, I'm begging you!" the dog pleads, despite knowing full well of Clavicus' inability to touch Nirn anymore.
"If you hadn't run off in the first place this would have never happened you damn mutt!" the Prince angrily exclaims.
"Ladies, ladies. Stop arguing, the show hasn't even begun yet..." Michael states, pulling the duo's attention back to him.
"What is your goal here, mortal!? I doubt it's to make a deal!?"
Michael shakes his head, "No, I've made enough deals lately. Why don't you just sit back and watch?" he says before beginning.
He spreads his hands out as they become wreathed in roiling black and crimson energy, crimson particles start to be drawn from the various artifacts, Barbas included. The dog immediately starts screaming, rolling around on the floor as if it was on fire.
"MORTAL! STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING NOW! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOUR ACTIONS WILL BRING!" Clavicus roars, the Chain of Arkmis shuddering under his power.
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