Chapter 5: Chapter 4: Predatory Power

For the last few minutes something has been occurring inside of Hendall. Deep within his core, the center of his being, his powers have been touching and mixing together in strangely alchemical and conceptual ways. This mixing is resulting in something the mage never anticipated: a spontaneous evolution.

Essences touch and kiss his soul, even as perks blaze to life within him. The chaos of this is resulting in the birth of new traits and powers within the otherworldly stranger. Some of these new perks and abilities manifest fully while others become known to Hendall but do not manifest outwardly, instead waiting for the explorer to call upon them himself.

Within seconds of the nordic nomad getting close enough to the Stormcloak leader that the rebel can smell him, the man’s eyes widen. The enormous nomad smells incredible! He smells like a verdant meadow in the summer, and the smell is incredibly soothing to the stressed leader of the local rebels.

Many things are happening all at once within the nomad that are transforming the figure. Perks and essence-based powers are springing to life within the eldritch figure that make even being near him a strange, transformational experience for normal people.

The maddening orb of crystalized potential that make up Hendall’s version of a heart is undergoing an evolution which is awakening new abilities within the predatory nord. Some of these newly acquired abilities include things like making him utterly mesmerizing, which is a powerful ability in and of itself. One of the ways that his new ability to fascinate people manifests itself is that he now smells truly amazing, so much so that the Stormcloak leader he has approached is almost dumbstruck for a moment.

When the talented and valiant Stormcloak leader realizes this and mentally notes it, he experiences a strange rush of joy. It is a subtle thing that he is unable to consciously notice but it is still enough to affect the man’s impression of Hendall. The man immediately begins to trust Hendall more, and he finds himself happy that the nord has decided to pay the camp a visit.

The moment that the two men reach the outer edge of the camp and others find themselves close to Hendall the same newly manifesting perks that have a subtle but powerful effect on the Stormcloak lieutenant find themselves affecting even more people. Hendall himself receives an alert that draws his attention to the evolution his powers are undergoing, and inwardly the confident figure curiously wonders how precisely he could make use of these odd new powers.

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The notification that appears in my mind’s eye delights me. It is not a particularly long notification, and all it really tells me is that as an evolving creature I should always expect my first days in a jump to be filled with chaos as my powers evolve, as well as that I am beginning to undergo an evolutionary growth spurt right now.

I can feel new items manifesting within my inventory, several of which are quite useful and I can envision dozens of uses for. Some of these new items are already a part of me! Their benefits are already manifesting and altering me in minor but convenient ways, such as expanding the power of my lifeforce, also known as chi, and increasing both the depth and potency of my pool of arcane energy.

I possess supernatural awareness of my abilities, even the brand-new ones etching themselves onto my soul as the lieutenant and I make our way to where the camp’s wounded soldiers are suffering. I silently study the new perks that are appearing within me, all while I observe their effects in real time.

I can see dozens of eyes on me as the patriotic leader of this group of rebels guides me towards a tent where numerous men and women are laid out on mats of subpar quality. Some of the abilities that have etched themselves onto my soul include various telepathic abilities and I elect to make use of those powers as my guide and I make our way to where the wounded soldiers have been suffering for days.

My abilities allow me to quietly scan the minds of the warriors who are watching me. I spend a moment reaching out with invisible, telepathic feelers and when I touch the minds of the warriors around me, I can instantly detect their surface thoughts. No mental defenses obstruct me, and I find myself free to dig around in the minds of my quarry without any difficulty.

This is an informative process that allows me to hear the thoughts of those who are laying their eyes on me. I can sense and hear their awe and their lust as they drink in my presence, which is something that is quite ego-boosting…

I can also intuitively sense the small rushes of joy and pleasure those who are awestruck by me feel whenever they mentally compliment me, which is too subtle for them to notice but not too subtle for me to miss. The point of that is make them associate me with joy and pleasure, and because of the strength of the first impression I am leaving on them I can certainly feel it working already.

I can tell that I have a dangerous range with my telepathic abilities, but I have no real desire to try and scan minds far from me. For now, I want to take my time and hone things like passive abilities of mine, and I can tell that I can be more precise in using my powers if I focus on using them on my immediate surroundings.

My companion and I make it to the tent where the injured and sick warriors are currently being kept. I ignore the pained moans and groans that some of them emit, and I turn to the Stormcloak lieutenant and smile. As I do all of that, I also subtly use telekinesis to touch a nearby tent with my magicka and magically mark the thing so I can travel here with the same ease that I can travel to other places I’ve thoughtfully marked.

“Thank you. I can already tell that I can heal many of the people here.” I say to the lieutenant, a man whose name I already know thanks to my new psionic abilities and my decision to test said powers. Ragnar, the mighty veteran whose leadership has kept this camp together even after rough losses like the orcish occupation of the nearby watchtower.

“Oh, thank Talos for that. These warriors have been suffering, in some cases, for weeks. If you can heal them, we’ll do our best to compensate you for your labor.” Ragnar says, gratitude audible in his voice. I nod at him, and I turn away from the man. I move to approach one of the men in the area where they are doing their best to quarantine the sick and injured warriors. The figure I am moving towards is absentmindedly lost in a pain-caused delirium and he incoherently mumbles nonsensical partially formed sentences.

I reach the man and I kneel next to him. He wears very little aside from simple pants and he is a considerably tall fellow, even if he’s not as tall as me. By studying him I can see several wounds that are clearly infected across his chest and back, and I feel a small pang of pity for the Stormcloaks.

This man’s condition is caused as much by a lack of supplies as it is caused by actual wounds and battles this man has fought in. Fortunately for him I am a master of potent healing magic and I intend to do what I offered to do before I was even aware of the evolution I am undergoing.

I psionically reach out with more of my telepathic feelers and subtly allow our minds to touch. I do not send him any messages, and instead I focus on sensing his state of mind. The man’s mind is a painful place where no articulate words are expressed and I can only make out vague, pained sensations and distorted memories.

I lift my hands, positioning them in front of the man’s chest, and I direct the powerful magicka located within me to flow towards my hands. As the potent energy surges from other parts of my body to my extremities I begin the process of converting the neutral energy into restorative power that heals the body and soothes the soul, which is a mental process as opposed to a physical exercise. By the time the energy reaches my hands it has become an insubstantial arcane salve that can heal all sorts of aliments.

The energy fills the air between me and the warrior, powerfully tinting the space between us a bright shade of white. It touches him a heartbeat later and I feel its effects wash over him, soothing the pain the man is feeling as thoroughly as a waterskin filled with cool water quenches thirst. The people in the camp watching me gasp in astonishment as my arcane skill allows the man I am healing to experience relief from the pain he’s been in for several days.

I observe the man’s wounds and watch as their infections diminish and then fade away entirely. It only takes moments for my powerful magicka to restore the man’s health, soothing the warrior’s pains and even reverting his overall level of health to how it was before he was injured in battle weeks ago.

I watch his muscles expand in density and I can sense his consciousness returning in full to him. A massive smile appears on my face as the man lays eyes on me and sees the light radiating out of my hands.

“Hello there. How are you feeling?” I ask the heroic warrior, even as he begins to truly notice me for the first time. He gasps quietly as words begin to fill his mind.

“I… I’m better?” He asks, causing me to nod gently. I continue to pour powerful healing magic into him for a few more moments before I lower my hands. The man looks healthy, good even, and he takes a quiet, shuddering breath as he realizes how thoroughly he has been healed.

“Sir… Thank you.” He says, almost breathlessly. I make eye contact with him and smile, genuinely, causing the figure’s heart to skip a beat.

This close to him I can easily hear things like his unconscious bodily functions, and even stuff as difficult to perceive as the sounds of the blood pumping throughout his powerfully muscled body. The man is not nearly as powerful a warrior as I am, but I know that he’s no joke and if not for my powers or magic I’d be wary of crossing him in battle but there is something nice about having the opportunity to heal him. I can also feel how high of an impression he has of me, which is greatly amplified by the power of my newest perks. I am halfway tempted to try and claim his loyalty in a permanent way, but I resist that temptation, for now at least.

“Relax, friend. I am happy to have helped you get better.” I tell the nordic warrior, kindly. This gentle reassurance goes a long way towards cementing the man’s impression of me, which I know thanks to my potent psionic abilities is comparable to how a pious individual feels a beloved saint.

Truthfully there are a lot of different ways that I could have handled this situation but using magic is one of the best since I am still a powerfully magic-focused individual. I nod at the nord and turn my attention to an injured and unconscious shieldmaiden, a well-trained and powerfully toned woman not far from the man I have just healed.

The blonde imperial, a type of human whose people are native to Cyrodiil but can be found throughout Tamriel, woman is sleeping quietly but occasionally she lets out a pained and ragged breath, akin to a harsh sounding snore. Some disease is working its way through her, and I can tell how weak she is with as little as a pointed glance in her direction thanks to the potency of my own lifeforce as well as my keen observational skills.

The shieldmaiden is dressed in dark metal armor that is of some sort of foreign make. It is a curious thing to look at, given her status as a Stormcloak, but I know that Ulfric’s forces are not going to reject anyone who considers themselves a true son or daughter of Skyrim. Her entire body is covered in the foreign armor aside from her arms and her face.

I approach her and I place my hand on her shoulder. This decision allows me to feel her slowly dimming lifeforce, thanks to my newly gained and potent mastery over chi. I can feel her lifeforce which is still quite strong, thanks to her innate resilience, but I can feel how weak it is comparable to how it must have been a few days ago.

Seconds begin to pass with my hand firmly on the shieldmaiden’s shoulder. I can feel my lifeforce mixing with hers as I maintain this connection, and I quietly sacrifice a very tiny portion of my own lifeforce to strengthen her resilience. Healing her this way is a bit taxing but even as I pour an incredibly tiny amount of my own energy into this woman I can feel her body growing stronger.

The eyes of the encampment are on me, and I can feel their amazement begin to increase when the woman I am healing begins to glow. Her fair skin begins to shine as our lifeforce is mixed together and I can feel the disease that has been weakening her for a few days beginning to weaken.

My power courses through her and reinforces her body, as well as heightening what I know as her “Immune System”, a term that I know is alien to the people of this world. The woman begins to stir as my power heals her, and as it does I begin to feel a bit tired, causing me to chuckle darkly. It takes a few more moments of serious concentration on my part before enough of my power has seeped into the woman to allow her to begin to regain consciousness.

My eyes widen when I receive an interesting notification. At the same time I feel time slow to a crawl around me, giving me plenty of time to read the notification.

[Alert: Dragon Cult

The [Essence of the Scholarly Monster] that is inside of you is acclimating to your unique physiology as the [Dragonborn] and because of this you have been granted the power of a type of demigod-dragon known as a [Dragonspawn]. While there are many benefits to this, one of them is that an incredibly tiny seed of divinity has been planted in the fertile soil of your soul. It will take this seed a long time to blossom and grant you true divinity, but you can speed the growth of the seed by gaining worship.

As a [Dragonspawn] you have new items in your possession. One of them is a more esoteric item known as a [Dragon Cult], which itself refers to both a cult that worships you specifically as well as a sort of conditional charisma you possess that makes your more glorious actions seem even more impressive to those who can be persuaded to join a cult devoted to you. This conditional charisma is profoundly powerful, but it is only effective on people who can be persuaded to either shift faiths or to adopt faith altogether.

Right now your actions of healing the imperial woman have swayed her heart. Unbeknownst to you she was in the midst of a crisis of faith, as a once-pious member of the imperial cult; the organization that worships the eight, once nine, divine beings whom the majority of the humans in the Empire worship when you healed and saved her. Her faith is shifting, and her exposure to your potent lifeforce, coupled with the fact that what you healed her of was a disease handcrafted by Peryite himself, something which she learned due to a warning by a daedric worshiper she interrogated over a week ago, has convinced her that you are a nascent divinity worthy of worship.

You possess items that interact, powerfully, with the [Dragon Cult]. These items include the [Jumper’s Truth], a powerful tome that encourages faith in you and submission to your will as well grants those who devotedly follow you mighty clerical powers, and the [Brand of the Jumper], an item meant for your lovers and those you take a more amorous interest in, which can certainly include your worshipers.

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This impressive item allows you to use magic on those who willingly accept it, even if you are so far from them you are in another universe. Recruiting people to your cult will slowly but surely empower you, even if it only increases your power by so much each year until you undergo a divine apotheosis.]

The imperial looks at me worshipfully and I smile at her. I can physically feel her keen faith in me, and the intense adoration in her azure eyes is almost uncomfortably intense. She doesn’t say anything at first, but eventually she begins to speak softly.

“You saved me… I do not know how to repay this debt, but from the bottom of my heart, thank you.” She says simply, even as I feel the stunning depth of her devotion. It is clear that this woman does not do anything half-heartedly, which makes me mildly curious about whatever the divines must have done to shake her faith in them.

“Please, miss… All I did was give your body the power to fight off the foul infection plaguing you. You are the heroine here, not me.” I tell her, humbly. I make use of my ability to extend telepathic feelers and connect our minds before she can respond to me. I follow this up by utilizing a new perk of mine to allow the two of us to communicate telepathically.

“I can feel your devotion, shieldmaiden. For now, accept my aid as a sign of your inherent worthiness, and rejoice in the knowledge that there are divines who can appreciate your faith. We are connected, little Stormcloak, and in the days to come we will speak more.” I explain, mentally, causing the woman to smile brightly.

Behind me the Stormcloaks watching our interactions begin to cheer and applaud us. Their applause is noisy and excited, and I can sense their sincerity. It seems that at least these Stormcloaks view each other as a family and care, deeply, about each other.

The next few minutes are filled with me practicing various abilities, including the form of magic known as “Alchemixture”, a keychain form of magic, as I heal all sixteen of the injured warriors in the camp. By the time I am done cleansing the warriors of diseases, healing wounds, and in one particularly notable case regrowing an entire limb using, even for me, a significant amount of arcane energy, over three hours have passed.

During this time two more warriors, both men, become aware of my status as a nascent divinity and I quietly make silent, telepathic contact with them. They are quick to accept my words and I can feel their keen devotion to me as firmly and as intensely as I can feel the devotion of the shieldmaiden.

In the aftermath of the series of miracles I have performed I am paid generously for my labor. I receive a few hundred septims, an amount that is the equivalent of a small fortune, and the gratitude of the camp of warriors.

As I accept the payment, I feel the might of the power of “Give and Take” magic, which fills me with powerful arcane energy whenever I get paid for some sort of transaction or even rewarded for successfully completing some sort of quest. This form of magic has the potential to be quite potent, particularly for a draconic being like me in the wake of my acquisition of the [Essence of the Scholarly Monster]. When I leave I walk until I am out of sight and then I silently cast “Recall” and I teleport back to Mistveil Keep.

I instantaneously go from the wooded area not far from the camp to a quiet corner of Riften, right behind one of the walls of the keep where the jarl and her family live. There are no guards in my line of sight and as far as I can tell no one has spotted me which is quite convenient. I walk up the stairs leading to the castle’s front door and guards spot me and look at me curiously.

As I walk up the stairs I allow my eyes to wander and I see a number of guards training by swinging their weapons at dummies made of straw in a tiny area to the left of the slim entrance into the actual keep. I watch the guards hone their skills and my oddly enhanced mind studies everything about them. I almost stop walking as I study them, and a small part of me is keenly aware that even watching these warriors is allowing me to improve my own martial skills.

The men and women who are diligently practicing with their weapons are wisely working to prevent their skills from atrophying. I can tell from the ease with which they utilize their weapons that they are persistent and I mean that as a compliment since that persistence is what allows them to be skilled guardians of Riften.

As I silently watch them I can imagine a dozen different ways that each of them could train that would actually sharpen their skills, and I can feel my own knowledge of weapon-wielding improving. I analyze each of their movements and my mind can easily parse which of their motions is as perfect as possible and which ones can be improved upon. This odd ability is the result of my newly gained nature as a “Commander”, which itself is quite handy.

If I were given authority over the guards, I could easily revamp their training and give each of the warriors who protects the city valuable, personalized training that’d allow them to expand their skillsets. My newfound abilities are, even in theory, quite powerful, especially since I can choose who I use this ability on. If I want to, I can easily use it on bandits, cultists, or assassins, so long as they agree to follow my orders! What a nasty ability in the wrong hands…

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The adventurer eventually opens the door leading into the keep and steps into the dim area where Jarl Law-Giver holds court. When he steps into impressive room where those who seek to stay in the jarl’s orbit reside they all turn and look curiously at the adventurer. He smiles as he strides towards the jarl.

No one dares to stop the impressive “warrior”, as they are all astounded by a number of things about the man. First, there is the simple matter of the figure’s height and general appearance. He is an almost archetypically handsome figure whose muscles and stature make him stand out even to members of the noble Law-Giver family. Second, there is the more complex matter of his perks.

Before he was empowered by the current slate of perks that are now powerfully altering him he was merely a striking example of nordic masculinity. Now the man who is striding towards the jarl has the sort of rugged, fairytale good looks that make the hearts of those who are attracted to men skip a beat, and that’s assuming someone is somehow immune to the mighty perks that make noticing his attractiveness dangerous.

What’s worse than the simplicity of his swoon-inducing good looks though is the fact that those who note how handsome the figure is are affected by perks like “Simply Mesmerizing” and “Mental Gravity”. These perks make even the act of acknowledging the mythic attractiveness of the figure a dangerous act that can subtly undermine someone’s freewill. These powerful perks are indiscriminate in who they affect, and at least everyone who sees him or otherwise senses his presence at this very moment unknowingly falls victim to their sinister power.

Right as Hendall steps onto the first step needed to reach the jarl to speak to her he ceases to passively utilize his perks and instead begins to use them actively. As he approaches the plain looking noblewoman he makes use of some of the perks granted to him by the [Essence of the Ultimate Salesman].

His keen eyes focus completely on the jarl and he studies her so intensely that it causes the jarl’s bodyguard, the nord warrior named Unmid Snow-Shod tenses. This is in spite of the powerful perks he is affected by, but the jarl himself subtly gestures for him to relax, an order which the warrior hesitantly obeys.

As a noble, the jarl is far more susceptible to the perks which are coursing through the man who seeks to interact with her, be they perks from the [Voice] origin, or brand new ones from the [Tactician] origin. That second origin specializes in making the creature walking towards her far better at seduction and courtly intrigue, as well as standard battlefield tactics. She gazes at the adventurer who is approaching her with open, obvious interest and he returns the gesture by smiling and looking directly at the jarl.

Hendall is activating several perks at the same time. Among the perks that are situated within the depths of his expanded soul that are being activated are things that allow him to study those he seeks to interact with in more efficient and potent ways, as well as significant abilities like ones that allow him to visualize the expectations and desires of those he studies.

The nord is supplied with powerful knowledge that allows him to formulate a thoughtful scheme for how to proceed. He learns of the woman’s pride in her hold, and particularly in her own rule, as well as of how powerfully she values honesty and understanding the abilities of those who dwell in her hold. All of this is valuable information that gives the figure a greater ability to manipulate the jarl, something her own servants regularly do.

His mind is an incredibly fast thing that incorporates what he learns about the jarl’s characteristics and her values into one skillful and coherent scheme, one which takes advantage of the figure's perks and traits. This scheme excites the deceitful nord, but he manages to not smile sinisterly and thus avoids giving away his wicked intentions.

“Hello Hendall, are you in need of supplies to complete your mission?” The jarl asks, causing the mage to smugly smirk as he mentally prepares a response to her question. It only takes the curious figure a brief moment of contemplation to figure out what to say.

“Jarl Law-Giver, I am not here to barter for supplies. I am here to provide you with a report of my successful endeavors at the distant watchtower.” The figure begins, his tone itself altered by one of the new perks that is empowering his soul. His voice is commanding, deep, and powerful, demanding and earning him the respect of those who can hear him as he makes his grand proclamation.

“Hours ago you gave me a mission that related to the safety of the people living in the outskirts of the hold. I made that mission my priority and I conjured a reliable and speedy mount to transport me to the site where you wished for me to prove my skills. When I reached the site, I clashed with the mighty orcs who had taken over the watchtower. I triumphed over them, thanks to my natural affinity with the clever craft.” Hendall explains, causing the eyes of those who are listening to this conversation to widen.

“My lady, I am a mage of considerable skill and today I used those skills to protect the lives of the people of The Rift. I fought against those who would shirk the law and while I am not proud of the fact that I had to take their lives, I do not regret slaying those who would imperil the health and safety of the public for measly personal gain.” The proud nord explains, even as he moves his backpack in front of him and roots around in the thing for a moment.

Hendall eventually finds whatever it is that he was looking for and he begins to lift the thing out of his backpack. It takes him a second, or rather he feigns that what he is retrieving is something altogether bigger than it actually is, before he pulls out an expertly made longsword of orcish make, and when those he seeks to impress lay their eyes on the sword they all gasp in respectful awe. He steps forward and kneels before the jarl, the blade in his hands.

“Jarl Law-Giver, my aspirations are to protect the people of Skyrim and to fight for their liberty. I am happy to be of use to the noble people of The Rift, and I humbly offer you and the hold itself this blade as proof of my prowess and of my devotion to the people. This blade is proof of my deeds but that only tells a tale of death and violence. A true hero is capable of more than ending lives.” The nord tells the jarl, as well as the rest of the audience who have become captivated by the figure’s cadence.

“I am capable of speedy travel thanks to my skill with the ancient arts that allowed our ancestors to build the mighty weapons that laid low the people of Saarthal. I utilized those skills to travel from the watchtower I had liberated to the encampment of patriotic sons and daughters of Skyrim located nearby. When I arrived there I had a chat with the lieutenant in charge of the place, and I healed the valiant warriors who are risking their lives so that men might someday be free to worship who we please.” The eloquent warrior reveals, causing the jarl’s eyes to widen in delight.

“I enjoyed my time meeting and healing Skyrim’s noble children. It is my personal mission to help as many children of Skyrim as possible. I am happy to have been of service to the people of The Rift.” The warrior says, with a shocking amount of sincerity audible in his voice.

Truthfully this is all an elaborate ruse put forth by the thoughtful nord, but the awed silence that falls over the petty court is quite sincere. In the eyes of The Rift’s politicians, who spend their days jockeying for power and fighting to gain or save their political “Face” or reduce the amount of political “Face” their rivals have, what they perceive as the nobility of heart this newcomer has is enough to stun them into silence.

The jarl’s own family and her most valued servants, be they her powerful and caring housecarl or the two wood-elves in her retinue, all smile in approval of the powerful remarks made by the mighty nord, aside from one of the jarl’s sons. This behavior is not missed by the observant nord, who is capable of mystically seeing in a perfect circle around himself, but the nord does not decide to fully reveal his hand just yet. Eventually the jarl reaches out and grabs the blade offered to her by the nord, and she silently studies the craftsmanship of the weapon.

“Hendall… While I know that many other leaders would see a skilled ally like yourself and not recognize what a gift your skills and your attitude is, I am more observant than many leaders in this day and age. I see your passionate desire to aid the people of Skyrim, and I am grateful that you have opted to use and reveal your skills to the people of The Rift. I shall see to it that you are rewarded appropriately for your labor.” She promises, even as she turns to her wood elf steward and nods. The woman nods back and steps forward, positioning herself between the nord and the jarl.

“Hendall, in recognition of your contributions to the safety of the hold, the jarl has authorized me to pay you with these goods.” The woman explains, right as Hendall magically reaches out and infuses the elf’s words with the energy he accumulated from all of the times “Give and Take” magic sucked up the energy created by transfers of wealth and value the mystical nord has been responsible for in the last few hours. The energy invisibly reaches into the woman and causes the coins she is about to give to the nord to multiply in both her mind and in reality. She takes out a hefty bag of septims and gives them to the dangerous nord who has powerfully manipulated various figures throughout the hold.

“Thank you. I shall use this as part of my funds to continue to protect the people of the hold.” Hendall tells the wood-elf softly, a gentle smile on his face. His skills with deception are owed, in part at least, to the deadly daedric prince Mephala, the prince of lies, murder, and sex. He hones his natural abilities relating to her domain with frightening ease, even as Hendall takes the coins and places them in his backpack, thereby shunting them to the private inventory he stores his spoils of war and conflict.

Within minutes polite pleasantries are exchanged and the warrior finds himself exiting the castle, a much richer and happier nomadic traveler. By the time he has exited the castle, it is nearly four thirty in the afternoon. The skilled adventurer has to suppress the urge he feels to grin manically as he exits the keep and begins to think about his own future.

. The spoiler is not referring to Skyrim & Elder-Scrolls based evolutions, nor does it count the perks he'll eventually get from wandering into the other settings beyond the doors in his personal reality.

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