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This is the autobiographical journal of Arvil Bren, a somewhat reluctant hero who has been placed on an unknown quest by powers that he barely knows exist. Follow his journey as it is updated daily, Monday through Friday, and enjoy! These are the most recent entries in Arvil Bren's third journal; Politics of the Redoran. His first journal can be found in its entirety here. His second journal, Trail of the Archmage can be found here.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

31: The ears of the mouths

The Telvanni council is unique. It is a structure in place exclusively for the purpose of dealing with the other houses, and actually exercises little, if any, control over Telvanni affairs. The Telvanni wizard lords do not welcome control, or really even strive for cooperation. Each has their tower, and their supporters, who are held as much in fear as they are in need of protection. Even Telvanni council documents sent to other houses as agreements specifically state that they should not be interpreted as binding on whatever wizard lord might choose to take a path different from the council position, making negotiations with the Telvanni basically useless.

I knew all this, of course, but still Skink and I reviewed it point by point after I teleported into Sadrith Mora this morning.

"Their council doesn't even meet, for fear they will kill each other," he hissed. "They are represented by 'mouths', lesser wizards who speak for them in their council. The only thing that keeps the mouths from killing each other is the potential loss of their patron's favor. I am well known to them, despite their dislike for our guild, and I am sure they would grant you an audience, as the Archmage. You would be safe from attack. They would not make such a decision without consulting their masters."

I considered his words, briefly. To Arvil Bren, Archmage, they made sense; but the weight of Moon and Star in the pouch at my belt pulled ominously, and that within me that is no longer me felt that tug as a call to action. "I do not have time for the Telvanni's games," I said as I rose to my feet. "I am no longer just the Archmage." I raised my hand, adorned with the Ring of the Hortator. "I am Hortator of a rival House, a warlord by ancient custom. They will see me." I left Skink with any objection he might have unsaid. He could tell it would make no difference.

I swept into the council hall with my spear in hand. A Dunmer woman, no doubt a wizard of some substantial skills, held the entry hall. "The council is in session," she said primly. "There is no one listed to address them on the agenda this morning. You may send a petition to address them by courier if you wish, or if you have it with you may leave it. Should your petition be granted you will have to appear without that." She indicated the spear with a dismissive wave and a sniff. "Weapons are not allowed in the presence of Telvanni councilors."

"There are no councilors present, you petty functionary," I snarled. "This spear, which you want so much to dismiss, recently drank the blood of a Great House councilor, the chairman of the Redorans in fact, who was the last man to try to deny the Hortator." I brought the spear directly under her nose, the fist clenched around the shaft sparkling with the Ring of the Hortator. "Now, just so you are not completely condemned by the mouths for letting me in armed I am going to let you hold this while I speak to them." I released my grip and bellowed "Don't drop it!" directly into her startled face. She gathered the falling ebony into her arms.

I crashed through the door into the main meeting hall into a sudden silence. The five mage lords known as the mouths gaped from their podiums around the periphery of the chamber. "You all know me. You saw me just the other night, but your doorkeep denied access to my spear so you might not recognize me." I clapped my hands together and a Daedric spear burst into existence with a boom of thunder.

"Spare us the cheap theatrics Arvil Bren. We know who you are. We have nothing to say to you."

"I didn't come here for anything you might have to say. Your masters would not be bound by the mouths of their mouths in the matter at hand anyway. The only thing that matters here are your ears. You will hear what I have say and report it to your masters, because they would be most upset if you didn't let them know I was coming for them."

"Coming for them?"

I slid the second ring onto my finger. "Yes. I am the Hortator of the Redorans, and the Nerevarine. They will name me Hortator as well, or after I kill them you will." Moon and Star erupted in white light, too bright to look at. The mouths fell back, shielding their eyes from the glare. I stalked out of the room. The ring was still blazing when I shoved through the door, and the chastened doorkeeper turned her head away as she held out my spear. I returned the conjured Daedric to its nether realm with a passing thought and grasped the substantial ebony. The ring pulsed, consuming the light, and settled to normalcy.

"How did it go?" Skink asked.

"As well as could be expected. Tomorrow I sail for Tel Aruhn to see Archmagister Gothren"

4 Comments:

Anonymous talkkno said...

Very subtle indeed,
I see a battle immedient.

9:05 PM  
Blogger Xikorolkel said...

Wow. Quite a show there. I almost think that Arvil is going to need a lesson in humility sometime soon; he seems to be getting a bit cocky. Excellent chapter though.

6:31 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow. That chapter was amazing. I loved how the Telvanni weren't impressed by his magic, but then are overawed by a glowing ring. ;)

I don't think Avril is getting overly cocky. He merely knew how to act with confidence to present the side needed to deal with the Telvanni.

-Nivekclough

3:41 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Cool chapter.

-Noozooroo

8:09 PM  

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