"Why have I been kept waiting? Lord Dagon will wish to see me immediately. The portents are most propitious, but a crisis is coming, and he will wish to take the tides at their flood."
- It is all a mystery to me, sir. In fact, I have no idea who you are or why you are here. I pass this way looking for a pair of Boots of Grotesque Liveliness that seem to have gone missing. You haven't seen them anywhere have you? "This is unacceptable! This is but the calm before the storm. The tides of magic are at the remotest ebb. His Lordship MUST be prepared to ride them at their flood, or all may be lost!"
- Sorry. Don't know WHAT you're talking about. But if you'll give me your name, your purpose, and a brief message, I'll see that it gets to Lord Dagon, or one of his chief lieutenants, right away. "See here. My name is Sirran Angada. I'm a mortal sorcerer."
- Well, anyone can see that. "Listen, knave, and cease your prattle. My Lord, Jagar Tharn, the mortal Emperor of Tamriel, and your Lord Dagon are ordering affairs high above your counsel. Tell someone in authority that I MUST speak with his Lordship."
- What? I'm not up on current affairs, but isn't the manling Emperor called Septic or Septem or September or something. "Gooood. Gooood. You CAN think, after a fashion. Yes, Tamriel BELIEVES that Uriel Septem still rules, but in fact, my master Jagar Tharn, has taken the form of the Emperor and rules in his stead."
- That is VERY interesting. But what has that got to do with you and Lord Dagon? "Lord Dagon was instrumental in assisting my master in this imposture, and as partial recompense, my master has temporarily placed my not-inconsiderable skills in reading the vagaries of the magica tides at your master's disposal. And it is this very counsel that your master so earnestly desires THAT YOU ARE KEEPING FROM HIM BY YOUR SILLY QUESTIONS."
- Lord Dagon is always VERY busy, and not likely to take interest in the incomprehensible babble of a manling booby. "Listen. The fate of the Realms and all that is in them is affected by the ebb and flow of magica. Out there, in the Void, the Waters of Oblivion have receded far from the shores of the mortal and immortal realms."
- Oh. Say. Is that what all this claptrap lying around is about? Are these those – whatchamachit – magiscopes? Can you really see the Beginning and the Ends of the Worlds in those things? Hey. How about my fortune? Tell me my fortune? "[Through clenched teeth] These devices are far too sensitive to scry upon the coarse and unsubtle fates of toads like you. These devices track the Tides of Fate. But I can tell your fortune, if you like."
- Oh, yes, please! "If, by your feckless inanity and indolence, you fail to carry this message to Lord Dagon, and thereby squander the precious wisdom that might be used to shape the destinies of all the mortal and immortal realms, I believe Lord Dagon may use your mouth, and, indeed, your entire alimentary canal, as a fit and handy receptacle for his Terrible and Swift Sword of Destruction!"
- Oh. That sounds pretty unpleasant. So. I'll just go and deliver your message, then. Right? "What a SPLENDID idea. How did it EVER occur to you?"
- Ahem. Look. I'm not a Daedra. I am, in fact, an Imperial Battlemage. Or, at least, I WILL be one. Very soon. And you are apparently the traitor responsible for opening the gates of Battlespire to the servants of Dagon. "What? What? Oh. Dear."
- The price of treason is death. I would prefer to bring you before the Emperor himself – wherever he is – if he still lives – for His Justice, but I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry. So. I pronounce upon you the Summary Justice of Emperor Uriel Septem, in his name, and by his Law. But you can't just kill me in cold blood. What about due process? My rights as a noble?
- I condemn you to die by the sword for your abominable deeds. Prepare to meet your ancestors.
- Okay. You have a point. So it's Trial by Combat. Defend yourself, dog, and prove your innocence upon my body.
- Try begging me for mercy. "Hah. I'd rather die than beg mercy from you, stripling."
- Okay. Suit yourself. Then prepare to die, traitor!
- You deserve to die, traitor. But I'll not soil my hands with the deed. I have more important things to do. So come or go as you like, Angada. Perhaps you have some further part to play in this drama, for good or for evil, and I will not interfere. Goodbye.
Speaking to him while mad:
"You again? Have you delivered the message?"
- Yes. Well. Sort of. In a way.
- No. Couldn't find no one to tell, your Honor. Quite a muddle out there.
- "THEN GO! TELL SOMEONE! ANYONE! ANYTHING SLIGHTLY WISER THAN YOURSELF. A PLANT! A BENCH! A DUST BALL! GO! GO! GO!"
- Right away, your Honor.
Speaking to him while sad:
"No, no, no! Please! Spare me!"
- I'm sorry. Can't do that. Can't make a special exception for a vile traitor. But very nice job begging. Most touching. Goodbye, then.
- You deserve to die, traitor. But I'll not soil my hands with the deed. I have more important things to do. So come or go as you like, Angada. Perhaps you have some further part to play in this drama, for good or for evil, and I will not interfere. Goodbye.
|
