#tw:alcochol abuse

[treeofonelife]

& j.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy.]

Syl stormed to the Gatekeeper so fast, the monster didn't have enough time to get much momentum. This didn't mean being in its way was any less dangerous, but Syl didn't think it over until she landed her first hit: the Gatekeeper pulled back one arm to sweep her away, and she crashed her warhammer into the artificial giant's robust elbow. The sweep still got her. Syl's weight even in full heavy armor was nothing to the Gatekeeper's enormous strength: it hit her full force, and shoved her off her feet and a few meters away. The only thing saving her from serious injury was her armor. The backlash of the warhammer's weight in her hand still turned her shoulder out. She refused to let it go, and recognized not having dropped her weapon as a good thing. But her shoulder was hurt and aching. First thing first, she grabbed hold of the weapon tighter, and pulled it back... Her arm moved well, even if painfully. The Gatekeeper paused, almost looking confused. For a moment, it seemed to have lost track of her. This was the perfect moment for Syl to stand up and return to combat. 'Must get up... Must get up, and fight. He will just... turn invisible, or use some trickery to save himself... All mages do that. And better off; they are fragile and hard to replace. But I must get up and... Hold my ground alone.' The light of a cast spell flew towards them, and the Gatekeeper definitely noticed. Syl did, too: she got angry so fast, she couldn't even think of any curses to use. 'He should have fled...' The Gatekeeper turned around, just as Syl finally pulled to her feet. The spell hit her, not the Gatekeeper. No wonder: It was aimed directly at her. The monster simply walked away from Syl as if she wasn't even there, and the experience shocked her to the core. This was certainly a first. It took her seconds to notice she cannot see the head of her own warhammer, nor even the shaft... Or her hand. Everything from herself to her equipment turned invisible: now she knew why the Gatekeeper left her alone. Before she could think of a next step, the Gatekeeper charged towards Thadon, who has gained some distance since. Thadon expected this outcome, but wasn't sure what he expected to do when it happens. He only had seconds to think of any defense, but he did have emergency policies. In the last possible moment, he finished reciting the last few words of the strongest Shield he could cast. The Gatekeeper's enormous charging attack was dampened a great deal, but he still felt some of the impact; enough to have to brace for it. The worst part was being shoved: probably he would have been thrown meters away without the shield, but with that to protect him, his feet still crashed into the ground under the force of the attack. Truth be told, he found it a minor miracle he stayed on his feet through it. He did not yet sense the true strength of his opponent; that shove was but an illusory bump at this time compared to the effort put in it. But he has seen the Gatekeeper from up-close, and he didn't feel prepared to fight it at all. 'Oh shoot... that... was great, but that shield won't hold forever...  Oh, why...  I feel horrible, and too exhausted. Must think of another spell but I couldn't... cast it anyway...' The Gatekeeper moved as if to roar, but no sound came out. It straightened its back, and the masterfully carved spine mildly rattled and creaked like some machine. The creature was as tall as the enormous Gates themselves. Its face was but stitched layers of skin on a roughly carved, enormous, humanoid skull. The disturbed giant pulled its weapon arm on the pavement stones and left a mark, before raising it above; ready to strike. At this moment, a sharp voice cut through the tense, still air. "HEY BASTARD! DO YOU REALLY NOT HAVE EARS??" Syl shouted the loudest she could; she used her anger to fuel it, rather than her lungs. The Gatekeeper instantly turned, and set off for one of its already familiar charging attacks. Syl didn't even flinch. 'I will best it if I have to. I will not go down... I will not let it hurt him either. We will not go down!' Syl's thoughts rhythmically circled in her mind, resembling an ever-working machine. Just before the giant reached her, she jumped backwards and slightly to the side. This needed all her strength in armor, but paid off: not only the charge, but two of the Gatekeeper's rock-shattering blows went right by her harmlessly. The third almost touched her, but she redirected the remaining force in it to the side: one parry... One attack. Just like in practice. Syl aimed for the already-hit elbow, which still carried a surprisingly small bruise.

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

& h.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy.]

On the way from the inn and up to the gates, Thadon still attempted to explain his plan - or at least tried to convince himself he can do so without sounding untrustworthy. "We may need to take... a bit of an unorthodox approach. So to say, we may need to try to do this it a bit more... diplomatically."

Syl looked at him and to the side with disbelief. "Are you trying to 'approach diplomatically' something that has no mouth or ears...?"

"Err, yes, you see... with the supply help of a local alchemist, and some of the notes on that book's margin, I have figured out a how to pass through without even defeating the Gatekeeper. Apparently, that giant was created with a specific purpose in mind; it is well-constructed for a reason. It guards the Gates, but not from everyone.  According to the personal notes of a scholar who has closely observed its' creation, it was supposed to let certain people walk by. Specifically, those whose mind was... somehow altered by the Lord of the Land. This gave me an idea for a perfect, peaceful solution. It is a... literal solution; a potion that may be able to make a person undetectable to the Gatekeeper. I haven't run any... tests yet; I hope you understand I didn't want to try this without you...."

Syl was listening, but seemingly just followed along in silence. 'How gallant.' She thought. ‘He wants the safety of me backing him up when he approaches that monster. To an extent, I can't blame him... His idea is ludicrous.'

Thadon simply continued his explanation, and his words drew Syl's attention away from her own thoughts. "You see, it seems this approach was part of the intended design: while several Passwall residents insisted this idea is heretical, I am personally convinced it is true."

'He is almost brave.' Syl thought. 'Almost'. She was so surprised by her own thought, she halted for a moment - then stepped out and kept walking before Thadon could notice her delay. Whether he did or not, he continued the explanation unfazed.

"The Gatekeeper allegedly carries keys to the Gates, somewhere on, or inside its body. If this is true, and it is likely true, that means it was intended to let some people in. Either those who can defeat it, or those who can... negotiate the keys away, somehow. If this wasn't the intention, there wouldn't be keys on the Gatekeeper."

"This is the Land of Madness, Thadon.  Not everything is obligated to make logical sense." Syl cut in glumly.

Thadon's smile only became wider. "Do you remember that one line from that High Rock stage writer...? I can't recall the name at the moment, but that line was rather tell-tale: ~Though this be madness, yet there is method in it.~ I believe if somebody had the knowledge to design something that effective, they did not avoid logic and skill when placing the keys as well.

"Hm." Syl even knew the writer's name, but she opted to not flaunt her academic knowledge. Who could tell what information she may accidentally divulge about herself...?

The two of them have reached the plaza; the stairs ended in a circular sidewalk brimmed with a low curb, signifying the point where the Gatekeeper does not stand guard yet. Over that sidewalk, and in the plaza proper, a minor garden of plants took root between the pavement stones. They sprung up amongst the bones of unfortunate past adventurers that tried to cross the Gates - and failed.

Thadon suddenly went silent, but not exactly when they arrived. No; he was staring in the distance even moments before, as if he had just continued his monologue within. And he did. He told himself all the words he didn't dare to say out loud: 'But what about You? Sure, if this works; I am safe, but if it does... How am I going to convince somebody like You to dullen her blade-sharp mind just to get inside? Or is there something else that would work...?'

Syl's just as sharp words awakened him from these questions. "Well? What is your plan, then?"

"Uhm, yes. I have created a concoction that confuses the mind in a way that... it becomes near un-detectable, even with adequate skill in Mysticism. After some experimenting, I have discovered an... 'unflawed' version, that has no other side effects. I believe my colleague went wrong with the assumption that such side eff..."

"I'm not an alchemist, so you might as well cut to the point."

„I will only ask you to... back me up, shall I say. I will have to keep a close watch on the Gatekeeper's actions; I may not be able to escape fast if it attacks me."

Syl furrowed her brows, but nodded. That didn’t sound right, but what to say without a better idea?

"Don't worry. I will be able to maintain perfect focus." Thadon added as he downed his potion, which, in truth, looked non too different from a regular healing or strength-enhancing potion. After this, he started to inch closer to the end of the pavement stones, and entered the plaza without any further ado.

The Gatekeeper was pacing up and down on the other end of the square, making no noise other than the rattling of chains as usual. Thadon walked closer and closer, but he was still too far to be surely noticed by the monster. Or was he...? He couldn't tell at the moment. '...Uhh... that... 'Perfect focus' is going to be harder than I thought... I don't feel so good... Maybe I should have kept some if the original's side-effects... It... It wouldn't bother me... Not at all; and especially: I could live with some reward for the eye pain and disorientation... Ugh, who am I kidding, this is terrible. I've never figured this feels so... bad, without its main effects included. Or... "side" effects... Why would anybody even make such a... Oh, right. So now to see if I am really undetectable to this... thing.'

He still felt like he is miles away. In truth, he nearly crossed the square by now.

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

& f.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy]

The inn seemed silent. The room seemed silent. The stairs seemed silent.

Everything seemed silent. But silence lies.

It was early evening, but stormy and dark outside, so the entire interior of the Wastrel's Purse bathed in the warm orange glow of candles.

Syl took the stairs one by one. She was secretly pondering the recent events.

Yes, there was a home free; yes, she did see the chance, but... Can she trust these people? And why would she want to move in in here? She used an inn room - for free - much like Thadon so far. He seemed to have settled in just fine, but never bothered to move in anywhere else. He said it is 'supposedly a temporary place for the residents'. Who knows, where he read that. He still seemed to be just fine here.

"But he is different", Syl thought. "He is... harmless and ignored, apparently nobody is trying to cross him."

She has slowly started to gain a grasp on this as she paced upwards on the staircase.  And in truth, the concept sounded brilliant: Pretending to be just a harmless fool, until one is safe from everybody else. He is certainly smart enough for that. "Which means... I can't even trust him." She concluded.

And how can somebody feel so safe, if they can't tell for sure whether the others around them are truly just ignoring their existence (or even liking them), or they are secretly preparing for an attack...?

Syl respected the method, but could not imagine using it herself.

"No.... No, I could not hide my strengths so perfectly, of course. Everybody would know I am more than I look, and then..."

She did have a second thought, however. A terrible suspicion. The suspicion that Thadon is not just... playing a role. And in that case... He is certainly in constant danger from everybody around him! And yet he survives...?

Could it be possible for somebody truly this naive to survive in this world...? It sounded completely implausible. And charming.

"Are you there?" she asked on a toneless voice while standing in front of the first inn room door.

She was still armed and armored, as always. She only dared to dress more comfortably when alone and in the relative safety of her room... She had problems sleeping lately. Last time, she had seen Thadon storm down the stairs. At that moment, she has realized how thin the gallery's wooden plank flooring truly was...

She remembered being careless, and chattering with Thadon while wearing only her casual clothes once. It felt like that was ages ago.

"So are you ready now?" she tried again. She no longer had the patience to explain. It felt like she was just continuing a conversation from today morning. Or yesterday. Or days ago.

"Uhm.. Yes, I'm here. I was... preparing to sleep, though. I apologize, I have faced unexpected obstacles today. Mostly in the form of a terrible migraine."

"It seems like every time you are supposed to work on that plan, you get a ‘terrible migraine’. Or some other headache."

"Yes, well... I'm progressing; it is just that... That every time I start to work on that plan, I uhh... hnnn... I have a headache..."

"Maybe you shouldn't drink that much."

"I don't. Not now; and not like I had anything good left anyway... Maybe it’s just the plan that gives me a headache."

There was a suspicious warmth and smile in his voice, despite the obvious veil of discomfort. Syl wasn't sure what to make of this.

She lost her patience and opened the door. She planned to stomp in, but the small room and the things scattered around its floor stopped her. And so did the sight of her mage ally, curled up on the corner of his bed, his head resting in a palm, but still bittersweetly smiling.

"So... Whatever else you are doing right now. Stop it. We have work to do." She summarized her point, and left the room before Thadon could answer.

The loud slam of the door was the last thing he could hear. Then, silence. But silence lies.

Yes, Thadon knew that probably the next room door has just opened, and then got slammed shut just like this one, but he couldn't hear it. His ears were still ringing.

A dull pain and confusion came over him. "Yes, sure, I can do it tomorrow." he thought. "And maybe invent an anti-headache potion, too."

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

I have no excuse. Seriously. Nothing. Sorry. BUT i did try to write him again! Heh.

Featuring: Lord Thadon; (and Nash being a case of "why are you here two hundred years before you were supposed to be born??")

She always introduced herself the same way everyone: The Only Handcrafter Worth A Septim Around Here. And the long-time bragging paid off now! Finally, she was allowed inside the Palace!

Lord Thadon turned to her like he has just got reminded of something - most likely the fact she is even there -, despite it was him who ordered her to appear to an audience.

"So you know how to carve bone, too?" He asked with a jovial curiosity, but completely out of the blue.

"Yes!” she answered without thinking. “Gregory taught me to carve wood, but I taught myself to carve bone because that's just more... resilient? Allows for more mistakes. And more perfections. And it is more alive. And there is more of it at times. Coal works, too..."

"Good. I would like to... re-create a tradition of my home, but alas, carving is not one of my expertises. See, as much as I have seen wood-carved pipes being a present tradition here... khm... at least in one case..."

At this point, she started to trail off, and remembered the time she stole Gregory's pipe and brought it all the way to the Palace door to prove she managed to get it. She stayed at the Choosy Beggar for that night the first time in her life.

Uncounted seconds later, Lord Thadon was still talking to her.

"...So different traditions and different parts of the world build a kaleidoscopic view of wholeness; a tapestry of untold variableness. All the tones and hues of sentience, in every field of every tradition; even in places where one or another isn’t present… Nothing can indicate something too, you know… Oh, yes, I was about to request something. Err, yes, so, pipe. I have opted on requesting a handcrafted bone pipe. It can take up any shape; in Valenwood, they are usually shaped after either the creature the bone is from, or the insects we intend to fill it with. See..? I brought some tree grubs as a sample to see what size it has to be. These are grayfly larvae; despite the name, they grow up to be small moths if we let them. Most of them are harvested, though. At least four should fit into the pipe's bowl... Are you paying attention?"

Ironically, despite having forgotten to move in the last... how long? ...She was actually paying attention. It took a few seconds to try and memorize what she has just heard, and of course the note to herself to write it all down later. And it also took some effort to speak up afterwards: "So... it has to be at least a hand span... Where do I find a bone that large? I can't work from smaller pieces..."

"How should I know?" Thadon’s tone was much less impatient than his words. "Scalons seem to have big enough bones, for example... Or you could ask that hunter who roams near Passwall."

"Scalons...? Uhm..." This sounded like a viable idea, and an inconvenient task.

"I hear you are an expert scalon hunter."

"Me??? Uhm... Your Grace... Who told you that??"

"Let's see... I think somebody heard it in the Court... from somebody in the country... She said it was a bard who told her..."

"Wha... ah. Yes. Gregory, I guess. Uhm, well, it’s true, I have killed a scalon... once... I shot it from a tree; fell right out, too. But I've learned how to heal! I could heal it; I broke my leg on a bet the other day, and I could already heal that, too...!"

"So you can heal the injuries you may receive while carving. Good."

She looked down instinctively, and hid her hands behind her tunic frills. Yes, she... could have fully healed them, has she not forgotten to... Of course, she also remembered her foster mother's oft-repeated, kind offers of maybe resting and sobering up before starting to work. In all truth, she was just surprised even the Duke himself cares.

Only minutes after, she was light-heartedly walking down the hanging street over the main square; then descended on the stairs of the Choosy Beggar with a grin.

"Oh hey!" she greeted the other patrons from afar, even before they could see her. "Guess what! I've got my first real request! I think I'll be done in one week, if I can find the materials. It'll be hard, but I can skip sleeping a few times..."

Sheer-Meedish practically cut into her words. "One week?? Just how are you planning to do that? Yesterday, you said Lord Thadon requested something personally... Or was that before yesterday...?"

"Dunno; listen: he said nothing about a deadline, but if I want to come back and drink with you guys next week, I have to be ready with it. So; no choice, see? And it'll be fine; I just have to kill a scalon, prepare a bone, sketch a perfect caterpillar, and... then cut it's shape in the bone... Maybe invent an automatic carving blade, to make it faster. And heal my hands. In one week. No big deal."

[treeofonelife]

One of these days, I had too much time, too little inspiration and too little sleep, so: Welcome to the AU where the Court of Madness is somehow an mmorpg raid team! Exactly as functional as you would expect. But not to worry! To my experience, most mmorpg raid teams are exactly this much functional - or less. (BURN!)

Can you guess who is who?  Hint: Not only the nobles... Everybody brought their flock along.

[party][Jean]: Is everybody ready? [party][AasMod]: always ready  >;-) [party][Insidious]: ready? [party][leValen]: r! [party][ocul]: no, Spark said he is afk [party][Insidious]: damnit ryles [party][ocul]: Ryles is the best healer on the entire server, so you might as well stop whining. [party][Insidious]: believe it when i see it. you guys are all noobs saying you are pros [party][Jean]: That kind of prejudice does not always garner respect. [party][Insidious]: ok ok, just let's go already [party][leValen]: we'll totally fail this. i should lead. [party][AasMod]: sure as hell >;-) [party][leValen]: then gimme lead [party][AasMod]: No  0;-) [party][ocul]: Don't kid, we have an overlvl backup and an awesome healer :) we can't fail it [party][Jean]: I suppose we should go as soon as SparkRyles is back from afk. [party][leValen]: overlvl, you mean mod's favorite [party][Jean]: Hmm? [party][leValen]: yeah, everyone knows AasMod is friends with a moderator [party][leValen]: or he is one [party][leValen]: according to some [party][leValen]: op shit [party][Jean]: Now now, don't jump to consequences too quickly :) you will have to work for your loot either way. [party][SparkRyles]: the more backup the better :) re btw [party][ocul]: i think AasMod is afk too [party][Jean]: I'm not sure, but I can ask him. [party][Insidious]: we could at least kill the trash mobs the while. [party][leValen]: we can do this without him [party][Jean]: I have doubts about that. [party][leValen]: gimme lead [party][Insidious]: shut up, aasmod has the lead, can't give it up if he is afk. [party][leValen]: oh okay, true

[party][Insidious]: ocul stop pulling everything! [party][ocul]: me?? are you even tanking?! [party][Insidious]: and why am i not getting heals? [party][SparkRyles]: sorry i was afk coffee break [party][Insidious]: you said you were already back from afk. [party][SparkRyles]: well i am now :) [party][Insidious]: for 10 more minutes i guess -.- [party][SparkRyles]: yea, if my friend gets stuck standing in line in the store again [party][Insidious]: whatt??????? [party][SparkRyles]: i asked him to buy chips on the way when he comes over but lives only 2 mins away [party][leValen]: ...we are trying to raid here... [party][SparkRyles]: yea, and he wanted to watch :) [party][SparkRyles]: and doesn't have an acc [party][leValen]: f u ryles [party][ocul]: watch your language!! [party][Jean]: Really, let’s stay civilized. Please. [party][AasMod]: yes mom 0;-D [party][Insidious]: are you back from afk, aasmo? [party][AasMod]: no >;D [party][SparkRyles]: we can go anyway, if you insist. i trust you, Insid :) [party][Insidious]: i think we should wait for him. i don’t think the others are skilled enough [party][Insidious]: didn’t even show stats and all. [party][SparkRyles]: okay :) [party][Jean]: A good decision. [party][SparkRyles]: this boss design is whack anyway. "guy who is an armor"? and all of it the same gray?? come ooon... I've seen better. [party][SparkRyles]: remember that spider demon bitch at the end of the lvl 10 dungeon? the THAT was design. 10/10! rawr! hehe [party][Insidious]: are you seriously rating boss monsters in a game according to how sexy they are?? [party][SparkRyles]: y not? [party][leValen]: ugh... [party][AasMod]: Good Going  0;-D [party]Insidious]: CAN we go now? [party][SparkRyles]: brb smoke break [party][Insidious]: what???? you just came back from afk!! [party][SparkRyles]: yes and we didn’t start, and my friend arrived and he is gonna murderface me if i don't go out to smoke with him so brb [party][Insidious]: i'm going to murderface you if you don't heal me and i have a sword to use for that. [party][SparkRyles]: lol [party][SparkRyles]: well he has a khanjar. and 2 full chain mail armors, and a dagger in the making. he came over to show me the dagger. he is a creative anachronism reconst artist [party][Insidious]: ... [party][Jean]: An interesting hobby.

[party][ocul]: AasMod what are you doing??? we weren’t supposed to pull yet, until Insid says so! [party][Jean]: I believe he simply ran out of patience. I do not blame him. [party][leValen]: toooooldyaaaaaa [party][leValen]: nobody but a mod can just solo that, i toldya i toldya i toldya [party][Insidious]: okay shut up we all knew [party][SparkRyles]: duh just let him :) we get ahead sooner. [party][SparkRyles]: and i like the fight scene :) [party][Insidious]: cool, got to admit that. [party][Insidious]: Spark, wanna be my pocket healer? just afk a bit less. [party][SparkRyles]: sure. :3

And to absolutely no popular demand and just because @primepotato is cool, here are some of the SI!Household members three-manning a lowbie dungeon (or... Are They? >) ). You are welcome, dear :P

[party][OliveR]: i don't think i can do this :/ [party][Treetotaler]: Come on, man! I'll back you up. Of course you can do it! [party][Treetotaler]: It may go slow, but we have time. :) I can heal you through it, I promise. [party][LEaf]: OH HAI your favorite dps arrived! [party][OliveR]: last i checked you didn't have any dps to speak of -.- [party][LEaf]: but i can cc! and dot! [party][OliveR]: that is still not dps.

[party][LEaf]: oooo woww... there you go, dps :3 [party][OliveR]: WTF [party][OliveR]: i didn't figure him for a dps cleric! [party][OliveR]: a fucking close combat one too [party][LEaf]: hahaha just go pull aggro [party][LEaf]: I'll heal yu [party][LEaf]: stand closer so he doent get hit [party][OliveR]: ... [party][LEaf]: thats it d00d [party][LEaf]: kewl! [party][OliveR]: with a dps cleric like that, and a bard for a heal [party][OliveR]: we might as well do it [party][LEaf]: o shuddup ur a gladiator too lol [party][LEaf]: not pure tank [party][LEaf]: yayy multitalent!! xd [party][OliveR]: i hate y'all -.-

[treeofonelife]

& b.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy. ]

Syl tried to walk up the creaking inn stairs as silently as she could, even if fully armored. Why? She couldn't tell. She didn't want to startle his teammate... Maybe she simply didn't want to scare him with a ruckus, either. She stood right by the half-open door, peeking into Thadon's inn room, but not entering just yet.

"Can we set off now??" She asked out of the blue. She had really hoped Thadon knows what she is talking about by now: She has been pestering him about it for days on end.

Thadon was sprawling on his bed in the room; but that is all she could tell from here. Syl didn't really see what he was doing, but she had ideas... He must be reading again, as lazy as he is. What use is intellect in a battle...? Well, maybe a lot. Syl had to admit this, so she waited patiently for the answer.

"We still need a few things to effectively best the Gatekeeper." it came, with a delay.

"Like what??" Syl tried to hold back. She really did.

"Like me giving this book back, trying the new batch of wine I have, and trying to design a trap to keep that monster in place..."

The lazy and almost muttering voice irritated Syl to no end, even if she knew these are clear, thought-out answers. But how to convince him they need to hurry up...? Does he not know what happens, if they don’t? She already knew. She already knew this place will drive them insane, if they don't leave it fast enough. But would he believe her...? Would anybody believe her? Can she even trust these people? She waited a few seconds, then tried again. Calmly. Diplomatically. "It has been days, and we are stranded here. Are you really sure we can't just go there and kill it?"

"Did that work last time?" This time, Thadon answered with no delay.

"Khm... I see your point."

"Trust me," he continued, "once I finish this book... Well, and everything else I wanted to, we will be ready to set off. We can defeat it; and we are in no hurry, right? I might as well study it a little... And yes, the book helps. Truth be told, the wine does, too."

"Where did you procure things like that in this remote place, anyway? We're behind the Madgod's back!" Syl tried to still sound patient, but in truth, she has noticed her speech became a bit like that of the others in town - and that wasn’t promising to her.

Thadon took his time to answer again. "I got the book from that scholar lady I met here... Uhmm, dark, and pretty; what was her name again...? And, I bought the wine from Lyles; that travelling trader that went by here..."

"Who...?"

"You know... That guy. Tall. Redhead. Freckes. Repeats himself all the time... He also repeats himself all the time."

"Ooh. That guy." Syl frowned until the frown was audible in her voice as well. "I avoid him like fire. Have you seen the face he makes when he is looking at us? He hates adventurers. In truth, everybody here hates adventurers... And that smug look he has, walking right by the Gatekeeper! Can't stand it. I can't stand the guy. He is definitely up to something."

"Uhm..." Thadon tried to recall the last few things Lyles said. It was much easier after having heard them twice. "I think he is gone from Passwall now. If that cheers you up. He was heading to the capital city."

"Yes, and we are heading there, too." Syl latched on the opportunity to motivate him. "So, do you have any useful ideas? Traps...? Spells? Anything...?"

Finally, Thadon shut the book and got up from the bed. He appeared in the door; with messy hair and in his robes, but barefoot.

"Listen..." He explained part enthusiastic, part dazed delirious. "Listen, it has a weak point. I simply do not know it yet. But I will. Its... Its body does not fit the spirit. Or... Not fully. You understand? Something must be capable of parting the two; it is a... spiritual weak point, not a physical. If I can figure out what can... hurt the bond between its body and spirit, we'll have an easy time defeating it."

Syl wasn't sure what to think. Before her was a tipsy madman with odd ideas, and a dangerously joyous glimmer of victory in his eyes. And yet, before her was a genius who almost solved the most powerful riddle she has faced in her life so far. Almost. She simply couldn't feel anger at him. Not now. Not here.

"Just... Go back to your room. Just… research, or sleep or something."

But Thadon's smile became wider. He even winked.

"Come, join me! We can share ideas and research together... I can always use new ideas. And I still have some wine."

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

& d.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy. ]

"I'm drawing the colorful cliff wall, right over there!  You wouldn't believe the colors it takes on in the morning light!" Thadon was so enraptured with the vision of his own art, he had hardly noticed Syl's frown - but maybe he has noticed the small smile right after that.

She was mildly astonished by the prospect of Thadon having been up early enough to see anything in the morning light. But, examining from closer (from right under the cliff now, actually), she has also noticed how his eyes are weary and dry. Not a good sign.

He kept up the carefree attitude none the less.

"To capture the exact palette, I had to re-light it a few times with magicka. Not the same as sunlight, but sometimes does the trick. And, I have even mixed up a new hue of yellow, to fit it perfectly. I did have help; did you know they have a local alchemist here...? He never leaves his house, but he is a decent fellow..."

Just how did Thadon find the guy, then? Syl started to have second thoughts about how she has imagined Thadon's everydays earlier. Maybe he did leave his room at times. Maybe he indeed does things... Sometimes. When she isn't there.

"Hmm... Could you please help us out a little...?" Thadon continued on a casual tone. "By that, I mean me... But probably he would appreciate more ingredients, too. This new yellow paint is made of Letifer Orca Plant slime... I can't really gather it, but you could. Can you please... gather some for me? If you are going somewhere in the wilderness again, I mean..."

Him having noticed her daily wilderness walks was another surprise. Did he pay attention?... Maybe he knows it is boring, and will eventually... get around to hurry up...? Maybe he cares more, than he shows?

No. Maybe he does not know it is boring. Or does not care. Why would anybody care? People need instructions, not favors, or so Syl believed; and she was not about to take instructions: she was used to giving them.

"And just why would I do that? Why exactly is drawing so important that you don't have time to do anything else? You can gather it yourself, if you need it."

"Uhm..." Thadon giggled even if he tried his best to subdue it. Was that an embarrassed giggle...? Or just his usual, distracted one...

"You see... I'm... Still not that perfect at Alteration. I can't just... levitate. Or at least not that high up; only enough to get up here..."

Syl sighed and stared down. A mistake, as she has noted later: looking down is a good way to be unprepared for an unexpected attack. She glanced up at him again, as piercingly as she could.

"Fine. I will gather ingredients for you. But only because I have nothing better to do. Mark my words, you'd better get down to business, or... Ugh. Just do it. Just make a plan. Soon. "

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

& c.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy. ]

 Days have passed by.

Syl always found something else to do: hunt shambles and sell the useless, dry bones of them to some unsuspecting local; or hunt grummites, and study their primitive weaponry... There was always something to busy herself with, but never exactly what she wanted. She wanted to kill the Gatekeeper. In her mind, she was already trying to find Thadon; and then find a solution for the problem together - and just pass through... Yes; she just had to find a way to pass the Gates. Or at least, find him.

Thadon was sitting on a rock next to a house wall. Gods only know how he got up there: while not much of a climber, he was surely an expert of Alteration. That could have helped.

Thinking this through took just as much time as it took Syl to walk up the path and reach the rock. She peeked up at him from the road.

"Are you just sitting there, and reading again...?" she asked. She was tired of this. Tired, and jaded. And inpatient. She has seen worse, of course... She certainly has seen worse. A lot of useless adventures. But Thadon was different. Yes, he was even more useless... And less reliable... And more to her liking, still.

"No, I'm drawing." He announced with a proud smile from the top of the outcrop.

Syl felt like losing her patience; and also climbing the rock as fast as she could just to see his drawing; at the same time.

"Are you addicted to drawing everything you set your eyes on??" she said on a more annoyed voice than she meant to.

"No, nonsense! I can quit anytime!" Thadon laughed, and Syl's annoyance suddenly disappeared.

He was so carefree... How can one do that in such a depressing place, trapped? How can he be a beacon of lightheartedness, in such a dark town?...

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

TL 2.)

Tamrielic Lessons 2.)  

Blank

It has been days - or just one day? Do nights count?... Nashidra has usually been stretched out on a bunk in Thauril's shop during this time. After having been rescued, she had to walk all the way to Leyaviin with him. Sure, she could have objected, but she has decided it is best for the both of them if the alchemist can keep to his original plan: here, there was a free, quiet place for Nash to recover, and Thauril has just gained a temporary assistant to look after his shop at night. Normally, he never spent the night here; he had his own sleeping quarters in the Mages Guild hall. Not like he was afraid for his shop... Not usually.

Nashidra was cooperative, friendly, and ready to make herself useful as soon as she was well enough.  So far, she has always been inside the shop; having been too weak yet to leave. This time however, Thauril arrived into an empty shop to do his evening potion manufacture work. He was wondering what happened, but sat down to work anyway. He didn't have to wonder for long.

The door darted open (startling him), then slammed back behind the arriving Nash hurricane. She even took the time to twirl around, then stopped in the motion and grinned at him.

"Catch!"

"What?!" Thauril could barely move fast enough to catch the dry, light, amorphic, object Nash has just thrown at him with a relatively sloppy aim.

"The first row of these is already dry." She explained. "Checked on them today. Y'know, the ones you hung at the window."

Thauril remembered hanging out rows of green stain cup caps in front of the shop window yesterday; he even remembered cursing the narrow drainpipes and short roof: if it gave just a bit more protection from the rain, a lot more ingredients could be dried under it outside. He also remembered not seeing Nashidra anywhere nearby. She was still ill, and inside the shop at the time.

He still looked bewildered. Unfortunately, Nashidra apparently couldn't guess the reason behind it.

"What. I thought you'd rather use dried ones and grind them down than use fresh ones... same, I know, but come on. That stuff is gooey when fresh!! So much more elegant to just... dry it and then add water. Kinda. Right?"

The apothecary was still collecting his thoughts that have just fallen to the floor and rolled to all possible directions.

"You do know these are poisonous, right?" He carefully probed, and even more carefully explained with a question. His eyes scanned Nashidra's inscrutable, breezy smile.

"Ye'h. And repel magic, in large doses. I've seen."

"Seen... Where?"

"Seen the way you use them! Oh come on, I've made a potion or two in my life; who didn't? Well, I'm guessing a lot of spoiled people... But you can bet nobody did that for me."

Thauril went silent again; and watched Nashidra drop herself down on the side of the bunk she now used as her temporary home. She meticulously placed her wine bottle next to her, despite there was little left in it.

"...You didn't waste your time." He finally managed to utter.

"Hmh...?" Nash was already wrapping her thin scarf up around her neck; meticulously folding it around her pompous necklace. She tied parts of the textile around her hair, too. Then conveniently stretched herself out on the narrow bed, and rested.

She was not yet asleep; but it was hard to tell if her eyes were closed, or she was just staring blankly into the darkness. The only candle above her bunk has given up its job sometime before she arrived back.

Thauril has decided this time is good as any: apparently, Nashidra was well enough to talk. He started the questioning, simply and carefully. Or so he thought.

"So... Where are you from?"

"Hm?"

"How did you end up in the river? I've been asking around, but nobody has heard of any shipwrecks, or disappeared boats lately; in fact, the last time somebody was lost on a rowboat there was weeks ago, and they've found him. You... surely have some idea how you fell into the water, don't you?"

"No. I don't." Nash replied simply.

"Don't you remember it...? Where did you travel beforehand?"

"Oh, I've traveled to a lot of places before, ~~"

"I meant, right then."

"Well, how could I know? I was just traveling, like any other... Hm. No. No; now that I think of it...."

Nashidra trailed off and hid her panickedly rolling eyes behind the scarf, and the deepening darkness in the room.

"I remember crossing a vast marshland. Dark trees; skeletal branches... Powerful fears and powerful currents... Monsters lurking in every puddle... The mute screams of pain that were never allowed to be given sound, float on the still, rotting air... I was afraid of that."

Thauril paused for long seconds, trying to take all that in. The details were much too clear to his tastes. Then, he drew rational conclusions, as usual.

"That must have been Black Marsh; or at least near the Blackwood region... That is about the same direction; and according to travel guides to Black Marsh, the description mostly fits."

There was a seed of gloating and irony in Thauril's words, but otherwise, he truly found the explanation being the only logical.

Nashidra stayed silent. She has never read those travel guides. (The whole series, tagged: https://treeofonelife.tumblr.com/tagged/tl )

[treeofonelife]

& e.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy. ]

The quill left a stain and fell onto the parchment. Out of Thadon's hand, into the fresh ink stain, out of the world, just floating into nothing, too far to reach for it... And what for, anyway? There was nothing to write down.

He remembered clearly he was making a small note on whatever handwritten comments were in the book before giving it back; but suddenly taking notes was pointless. What good can one make out of stupid half-phrases such as "Gatekeeper lets some people in"?

And "Marked by Sheogorath" ?

And "Mind must be fitting to the realm - altered compared to normal ????  'all-seeing' - said Caleb Kay"...?

Who cares?? These are just useless scraps of information about something that doesn't even need to be removed, or passed by: Here is as good as anywhere. Small inn room, second storey... it was even for free. So what's the point? The Gatekeeper is undefeatable anyway.

No matter how many things he has copied down into his notes, they never connected into anything useful. There was nothing more he could come up with: everything led to a wall he can't pass. Where were those brilliant ideas; where were the ideas that so far allowed him to fly over any wall, and avoid any danger?

Thadon has lost his patience. He put the book down too, then turned and darted out of the room, carelessly swinging the door in behind him. He started to walk down the stairs just because they were there.

Halfway down, he looked around, but all his mind could focus on was Syl sitting on one of the barstools at the counter on the lower floor. Still in heavy armor and with an elegantly straight back, but bored and disillusioned. Looking back at him with disapointed expression, but still silent.

"I'm... I'm Paralyzed. It just Doesn't Work." He said on a quiet, desperate voice.

"What doesn't work? What I can see is: You are not working!" Syl's scolding was almost casual in tone at this point.

She was absolutely sure by now, that her mage has simply betrayed her. Why else would he delay so much...? She was used to this. Almost used to this. Mages are all like that; in fact, most adventurers are. Shiftless... Prone to betrayal. Why would he be different?

As she looked up at him and their eyes met, she saw an upset, unfocused confusion on Thadon. Dull pain. Disturbance.

"Hm." Thadon left the inn without saying a word. That was truly unlike him.

At first, he wandered the muddy town in a daze - one he did not appreciate this time. Something made him unable to think of new ideas. Every time he tried to focus, think of a problem, and let his ideas flow free - they stopped. All he had was a hollow, a lack of ideas or emotions. He tried to focus on the problem of having no new ideas, but that resulted in the same. A vicious cycle.

He suddenly remembered the old, nervous alchemist he kept trading with earlier. Caleb, maybe...? At first, Thadon was unsure; then he realized what reminded him of the old guy: the small brass cauldron hung over the entrance of a small, elevated hovel he has just walked by. Thadon turned back and entered in a matter of seconds, as sudden idea. And like many times, he regretted his sudden idea.

In the dusty, smoky, tall room he found himself in, there was little more but stools, tables, books and alchemy materials piled up. When he finally saw through the smoke and mist, the figure of an old man became clear in the room. The wizened alchemist looked much less agitated, than before. He was sitting on a low stool, and only peeked up once he caught up on Thadon's arrival. He was busy with a small glass jar in his hand; slowly inhaling the light grayish mist from within.

He probably was still disturbed by the unexpected new arrival, as he started to cough a second after.

Thadon stepped inside, momentarily forgetting his problems: Finally, something he could focus on! The clutter within didn't make much sense at first; but he noticed the alchemical tools in a familiar order on the table. He looked from there, to the stool; then to a shelf, and the materials stored there. Sure; the experiment made perfect sense... He invited himself inside a bit more, while the homeowner was busy coughing again.

He made his way to the man's table with a mellow smile. Then checked the last few additives in the notes.

"Uhh... That muck is trouble. You'll have to dry it first. Let it dry completely. Then, calcinate, and it becomes consumable." He explained, like it was his gods-given right.

"Cough... I was too impatient. I always am." The old alchemist tried to crack a smile and conceal his pain.

Thadon let him rest for a few seconds; meanwhile trying to figure out what makes a man too impatient to do proper work. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he felt like he has the answer, somewhere.

To his surprise, the old breton spoke up before he could.

"It may just be the breakthrough I am looking for! The Key of Wisdom! The perfect material! A potion that is capable of transferring perfect enlightenment! Who knows; maybe it unlocks the secrets of making gold out of anything...! But most importantly, it should... No: it will! It will be able to show a mortal all that is to know in the Universe! We will be able to see things for what they are! How could I allow myself to wait??"

Through all the grandiose talk, Thadon just stood there, nodding with patience, like he always did when he thought he is learning something new he cannot use, or understand just yet.

The idea of a potion that gives its imbiber enlightenment without any further learning seemed impossible and ridiculous to him, but he already had ideas on what else the materials used by this colleague could also be used on...

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &   &  

[treeofonelife]

TL 1.)

Tamrielic Lessons 1.)

Fish out of water

Thauril walked on the riverbank, meticulously looking over all the plants he could find. He needed extractable herbs to keep his store stocked, and he didn't want to waste time on just walking by them all the way on the long road from Bravil to Leyaviin. Best was to use his time now.

At a shallow lagoon, he even considered crossing the ankle-deep water to reach a small island near the shore. These shoreline sand shelves where usually a rich source of green stain cup mushrooms, and occasionally hid even rarer alchemical ingredients.

While he was contemplating, the water's murky surface suddenly rippled, but Thauril couldn't see the source if the disturbance. The ripples came seemingly spontaneously, from nowhere - or, as he has figured it out after waiting for new and new ones for a while, actually from the other side of the lagoon: from the island.

The small shelf island just about ten steps into the water had two trees and a shrub on it. Thauril decided on a split-second's impression: he wants to take a closer look.

There wasn't anything specific he was looking for: he suspected there may be some green stain cup caps standing halfly submerged in the water due to the tide, but he didn't think twice on it. Maybe the ripples were caused by slaughterfish. Then again, his idea of wading through the water even if he suspects dangers may lurk within came naturally: he has already learned to keep away from roaming trolls in the neighboring forest, but a simple fish, especially in shallow water...? Even he had enough magicka to him to freeze something like that into conveniently hard, transportable form (occasionally, dinner form, in case of edible sea life).

He slowly waded through the lagoon water; ankle deep, yet still his worst convenience nightmare: cold, muddy water in his sandals; getting filth and mud on his anklet, and slowly, insidiously seeping murky water onto his robes from the bottom hemline upwards. He knew this was a bad idea; that he has to walk all the way to Leyawiin in wet clothes now... But curiosity has driven him this far, and it wasn't about to let him go. 'It'll dry up on the way back' he thought.

There was nearly nothing on the shelf island: all three trees and the shrub were accounted for, but no mushroom caps to be found around. The ripple did not come from either mudcrab or slaughterfish, however.

A young woman was laying half on a rock, halfly in the water. She was conscious, but barely moving; her eyes were almost closed and her breath was shallow. She had all the 'features' of a simple traveler: side bag, tunic, pants, belt, sandals; she even had an empty quiver strapped on her back, but looked otherwise unarmed. She was small statured, with vaguely merish features and mid-length brown hair; latter in a wet mess now.

"Are you alright?" Thauril gasped, eyes widening. He had nothing better to say, even if he didn't expect an answer.

Her regaining consciousness a bit more for a moment, the young woman started to mutter to herself, but her lung contracted as soon as she tried to make a sound. She started to cough; with no avail due to her laying on her back.

After the first shock, Thauril was more than eager to rush there, and his first deed was helping her up and turning her to the side: coughing became easer, and her throat and lung started to clear of water.

She instinctively grasped at Thauril's hand, and hung on to it thought the slow, painful process of getting her into shape to at least sit, and then stand up.

After some examination, Thauril concluded she wasn't injured. Likely, she simply got into trouble and fell into the water somehow; then nearly drowned and merely the gods' goodwill and his own curiosity saved her.

The young woman wasn't talkative at first. No wonder - but it looked like, after the first unconscious actions of grasping at the hand of the first person willing to help, she soon rationalized the situation and decided to keep her trust in Thauril.

By the time most of the water was gone from her system, and she could move, even if weakly, she has already looked him in the eye - and even smiled at him! Weak, barely-conscious, pale smile, but the obvious sign that her mind was working, no matter what her body was going through the meanwhile.

Thauril had no real experience in rescuing people this way, but he assumed everywhere is better, than still halfly in the water: as soon as she seemed able to walk, he silently offered to help her up. She needed all the help she could get.

One of the more fortunate details was her short stature and lithe build. Thauril wasn't exactly heavy-built himself, but he could still carry the majority of her weight.

Already on her feet, the woman muttered a weak "Thank you!". Was that for helping her up, or for generally... well, saving her life? Who knows; but though her voice was still faint and she often got coughing fits, she obviously started to regain consciousness.

Thauril simply nodded as an answer.

The woman slowly staggered towards the lagoon through the shelf island with Thauril's guidance. She was muttering to herself (or perhaps even him), possibly only to keep herself awake and aware through the calamity.

"Cold as ice... cold as fire... cold, and wet. I hate cold water."

The two of them reached the water, waded through the shallow, and emerged at the shore. There, the girl sat, or... collapsed on an old tree trunk, her clothes still wet and her still shuddering.

Regardless, she deemed it necessary to speak, to Thauril's mild annoyance and worry.

"Thank... you, I'm not... sure... How long... cough.. I've been there."

Thauril didn't like the idea of her talking. But, as always, if he couldn't convince her to stop that, at least he made the best out of it.

"How did you get there? Who are you?" He asked. He did regret it later; maybe one question at a time would have been a better strategy.

"I'm... I'm Nashidra; and, n... How did I get... Where? Oh, there; I' not sure..."

She shuddered again. For a brief second, she stared out at the water, then looked back at Thauril, confused.

"Have we met before...? I remember seeing you, but..."

"I don't think so; I have seen you the first time as I helped you up from the waterbank..."

"...Oh." Nashidra cracked a small smile. "So that was just a second ago..." (The whole series, tagged: https://treeofonelife.tumblr.com/tagged/tl )

[treeofonelife]

TL 8.)

Tamrielic Lessons 8.)

Here Comes The Rain Again

Rain. Rain again. It was an unusually long rainy period, even compared to the local climate.

The raindrops looked like little butterflies as they splashed into the shallow puddles in Leyawiin's muddy streets, and the bridge right outside the town was soaking wet. Thauril tried to push his small cart over it with all the effort he could muster.

The cart carried the last things he decided to keep from his life: alchemy supplies, books neatly tucked into boxes, some clothes and his Mage's Staff. He already memorized the route, but he had no illusions about how hard it is going to be to get there. Even with all the Alteration spells he could cast, it was going be a hard ride to the cottage in the swamp. If only Kynareth favored him...

Across the bridge, on the side he has just left, a familiar figure appeared through the veil of rainwater. Nashidra's tunic and hair was free prey to the downpour, and water drops washed down on her face. She wasn't directly told, but she could figure it out: the shop building was hers now. Not like she needed it. The shack that used to serve as Thauril's alchemy shop was yawning emptily for days now: he has cleared it out, as he did his personal bedroom in the guild hall. He was ready to set off.

Every time a Thalmor guard or soldier passed by, he averted his gaze. He was as friendly as ever to the locals, but his smile became more and more hollow as time went on. He kept mentioning the disappearance of some of his guildmates lately, but only when no-one but Nashidra could hear. Time was up for them, and as Nash stared back at her only friend on Tamriel for now, she understood her only key to the swampland cottage is the location of it - and she knew where it is. For now.

She also knew, that will change. So she lifted up a hand and waved good-bye, barely moving and hoping Thauril still has sharp eyes... Sharp elven eyes; at least good enough for a city-dweller.

Thauril eventually turned around, having convinced himself all he sees is a distant illusion.

Nobody could find him there... Nobody. He was sure Nashidra won't be the one to lead the Thalmor, or anybody else, to his hideout. He wasn't even sure what he is afraid of: they weren't after him. It was the sheer sentiment that was pursuing him: the loss of friends, the sight of fear in people's eyes... And watching those he has known well stand up for their religion, and be punished for it.

So he left. He wasn't sure what to do next: He knew he wants to start a revolution, but no revolution in history ever won by having one, single member working for it. He suspected all of them started that way, but he never found any historical notes on how they went from there to something that could shake a whole reign. Nor he could find courage infused into any writing he has read before.

[treeofonelife]

& a.)

[Experiments with canon and mind alchemy. ]

The tavern hall of Wasrel's Purse was nearly empty. As Syl entered after a hard (and nearly fruitless) day of grummite-hunting, she wished for nothing more than a meal and some rest. Still in battle armor; still at her best... Or that is what she had shown to the people. At the moment, only to the soundly sleeping innkeeper, and the obliviously reading mage at the corner table. The same guy she has asked for help earlier - the same guy who promised help, then disappeared for two days.She didn't let her tiredness show so far, and she wasn't about to start showing it.

"Good evening." She greeted him on a cold tone. That should be enough courtesy, shouldn’t it? So she got to the point. "Where is your promised plan about the monster's weak point?"

Thadon peeked up from his book and smiled as soon as he saw Syl's fair skin, and discontent frown. It still took him seconds to re-focus and answer. "Hm...? Yeahm, sorry, I borrowed this book on Conjuration from a local, and I was busy reading it..."

"Was there anything of use in it?"

"Possibly...? That creature seems to be unmistakably daedric; the question is, what unique properties its unique body has? And especially what weaknesses that might mean..." He shut the book leaving one finger between the pages. The book's spine and cover quietly protested. He tried his best at an explanation to a layman, but the discoveries he has made quickly carried him away. "I believe the body was intently built to be indestructible; and the soul is daedric therefore near-indestructible to begin with. Of course, as powerful as they are, daedra have weaknesses... And no construction is perfect, so this must have flaws, too."

Syl knew daedra can be defeated by magicka; by lightning spells, specifically. That is why she had sought out a mage in the first place. After the first time the Gatekeeper had managed to fend off all her attacks, she didn’t want to risk another clear confrontation. And especially, she did not want to risk anybody seeing her defeated. She needed a perfect plan.

"Can't you focus on the weaknesses of its... general nature?"

What can be so hard in that...? It only needs lightning spells. All mages like to overcomplicate things; she was sure it is simpler than he lets go. But how to prove that?

Thadon's enthusiasm only increased, seeing her interest. "Oh, I've tried to test that! Directly aimed destruction magic usually bounces off the creature. And that spell reflection is already built into the artificial body. A genius construction! Although I prefer to not think of what it may be made of."

Syl paused in a motion and looked him in the eye. She didn't expect him to actually have run tests already... Maybe he knows what he is doing, after all.

"Fine. You have a week to find that weak point. I have things to do, you know."

She didn't want to take her own chances by taking another person's chances. She needed patience... Something that was harder to acquire here than books on Conjuration - or anything else, really.

Wonderful illustrations by @k1spiegel​:   &    & 

[treeofonelife]

TL 5.)

Tamrielic Lessons 5.)

Again

"Exactly six hours..." she panted. "Six hours... and... it wears off..." Nashidra bent forward, nearly paralyzed. She still had a long walk ahead to reach the town, but stopped to rest under a tree. Or more like: stumbled forward, caught the tree trunk and collapsed next to it. Her vision slowly went blurry, but she could still sense a twisted, nauseating version of the mild breeze's touch on her skin. The last thing she heard through the veil of dazing, painful haze was a middle-aged bosmer's patient voice. "Poisoned yourself... again?"

Within about two hours, Nashidra was sitting in the same crouching position, but now in the convenience of a camp and next to a campfire. She has helped build it the best she could, but without Thauril doing the majority of the work, she may have had to sleep outside and right next to that tree tonight. Dusk set in, and it was nearly dark under the wide marshland trees. Thauril was sitting right across her; closer to the fire but only with a rock for a seat. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked on his usual, calm and professional tone. Nashidra opened only one eye, stared at him blankly for a moment and then cracked a grin. Before she could answer, a cold shiver came over her again. She pressed her eyes closed. Her thoughts ran wild, looking for a solution. It was like salvaging bricks from a ruined house.

"Activation ingredient... I'll just need something to alter its effects...", she muttered in a feverish tone. "It... it does what it should, it's just... the side-effects... are painful..." She blindly started to tap around in her side bag. Wasn't even sure what she is looking for at first; it was like looking for that specific thought in her head, all over again.

Finally, she found it: the parchment-like feeling on her fingers was almost certainly what she was looking for... Although she couldn't trust her touch sense. She pulled the object out, and happily noted she was right. It was a piece of dried mushroom she has simply stashed in her pack earlier. Thauril strictly told her not to eat that raw and alone. She did just that right there, before him. She didn’t even have second thoughts: she already knew half of what would happen.

Another shudder came, and another. She slowly felt a heavy warmth creep over her and clear out the shivers. She was too weak to move much, but the convulsions were gone, and she didn't feel cold anymore. Numb, yes. Cold, no. "...There. That should help..." she sighed. "It doesn't make me get better for real, but it won't hurt, and won't harm me on the long run... Didn't take it 'in itself', I promise...!" she snickered the best she could.

Thauril was just as amazed as he was horrified.  "You are an exceptional alchemist."

"Ah yes, I'm an exceptional alchemist, a creative genius and a wonderful seamstress... and I'm going to be sure of that for about... twenty more minutes." (The whole series, tagged: https://treeofonelife.tumblr.com/tagged/tl )

[treeofonelife]

a story I’m too lazy to fully write like I did the Miragent: TL

Tamrielic Lessons 0-1.)

Headache morning

Dervenin intended to walk outside Sacellum for just a moment, to bask in the golden morning light. But he has caught Nashidra loitering there; sometimes leaning to the wall, sometimes walking in circles on the pavement.

He greeted her like he did everyone: "A Glorious morning!!"

"Err... Mild headache morning." Nash answered with a jovial, but pale smile. "How are you today?" It was always worth asking Dervenin this question.

"Oh, wonderful, wonderful morning! Glorious day! Serving the good people of Mania, as always!" For the once, it was almost hard for Nash to keep up with the High Priest's vibrant optimism.

"I'm glad to be entitled to this gift." she said on an unusually dry voice. Then trailed off.

She slightly staggered at the thoughts that besieged her mind, and trailed off in words as well. "Not- Not for long..." The faraway look on her face hid an unsure, distant glimpse towards the nearby city gate.

"I'm sorry, your Excellency," Nashidra focused back at Dervenin with some trouble. "I'm going to miss the sermon today. I am to... set off soon." (The whole series, tagged: https://treeofonelife.tumblr.com/tagged/tl )

[treeofonelife]

So who the hell stole the Chalice, again...?

[I’m not sure but I like this...] Kithlan stood at the walled-in window, and stared out on it at the magnificent stones of the palace wall. The door creaked open, and Anya Herrick slipped in on it. Then closed it as fast as possible. Kithlan turned around with eyes wide, only feeling safe again when he saw it is just his old ally arriving. She has come to visit without warning, however. And that just didn't sit well.

Kithlan figured it is a good excuse to tell her off, just for good measure.

"What business you have here? It isn't evening yet. You still have work in the Her Ladyship’s quarters, I believe."

"I... I wanted to ask..." Anya started her inquiry on a tiny voice; and she quickly faced the fact she has overestimated her courage. Did she really want to know what is going on...? Was it worth the fright (and the risk)?  ‘Yes. I have already started it', she told herself.

"Have you heard that the Chalice of Reversal was found? Do you know who... is responsible?" she tweeted In a mildly less insecure tone.

Kithlan was startled at first, but once he caught up with the real meaning of the question, he decided to continue on his strategy. Frightening Anya was easy. Now, if he could frighten her in the right direction…

"You know who stole the Chalice of Reversal initially, just as well as I do, Anya." Kithlan tried to be as fearsome as possible, leaning in on the petite breton maid. "Only we two in Dementia knew where it is. Yes, Thadon somehow figured it out, and blabbered it out to his entire court. That is something you also knew, with all the rumor-hoarders you regularly talk to."

Anya decided to hold her ground this time; and to keep up her accusation until Kithlan admits his guilt. "And you think I'll believe any of them gave that meddling adventurer any good, useful instructions? Don't you tell me that, Sir. I won't believe it.”  She was sure she is right. Still, her tone was closer to panicked than disgruntled.

"Hm. No. I told him." Kithlan tried to shock her with the admittal, but if anything, he simply felt relief. "But he could have figured out himself. He is not that stupid; even though I would make a better Champion for Sheogorath, obviously." He has already convinced himself he has to feel no guilt over it, but admitting his betrayal had one large advantage: Nobody could try to find his secrets out anymore. The cat was out of the bag.

"But... Why did you tell him where it is??" Anya stared back at him with her green eyes wide, more with fright than curiosity.

"Because, I wanted the Chalice back in Thadon's hand. Isn’t that clear?" Kithlan himself wasn't sure of the answer. He knew it is there, but he has buried it too deep. The best way to keep a secret is to keep it secret from yourself.

"Uhm... no... I mean... Why?" Anya simply forgot to be angry and ended up simply confused.

And this grain of genuine feeling didn't help Kithlan's case at all.

"Because he needed it back. Balance, see? Duh, why am i even trying to explain anything to you... I'm the only capable person in this entire court, I swear."

Anya was obviously not satisfied by the answer. But she was more afraid than to question that. What if something goes awry and she is forced to move out of the Palace? Or even worse, she gets herself in the middle of a conspiracy again?

"See..." Kithlan tried to explain anyway. Not that he needed it explained - more, he was afraid Anya may be tempted to betrayal again.

"…It was for Syl's own good." But, how to explain that? Harder than in looks.  "That is all you need to know."

This was the tone Anya was perfectly used to, so she knew what to do: she quietly straightened her skirt and stepped back, preparing to leave.

Kithlan just remembered to get rid of her before getting lost in thought again. "Dismissed."

The woman disappeared behind the heavy door without uttering a word.  Her dress flowed around her like an inconvenient aura of dark, heavy fabric.

Kithlan was left alone with his thoughts.

'Ah yes... What should I tell her?! >>Lady Syl would execute less people with no reason<<? Or, >>After having executed the right people, Her Ladyship will stop<<? Who am I lying to? Of course She will continue. But with Thadon being a bit calmer... Maybe we ‘ll have a bit more time, before that happens.'