Quest at Daggerfall
Sitting on a throne of bones a charred skeleton wreathed in a blue flaming aura outlines the features of a nude aged elven man. The silhouette of the face and gaping of the burnt skull beneath suggest an expression of emotionless anguish, and though the figure before you has no discernible eyes, you feel an intense souless stare emanating from aberration seemingly at nothing and yet everything in the room. In your native language you hear:
I have dredged the dead from beneath the surfaces of the world to rebuild this hall with bone. The undead will rush through the Imperium like a river through a sieve. It’s people will be sifted till only gold remains. Tell me adventurers, what is gold to a creature such as me?
Knowledge! Knowledge is all that has value. Gold and jewels are dolled out to compensate for wisdom. It is the knowledge behind anything that gives its any value. There are many secrets that I once thought unknowable and now I know, yet their are three secrets that allude me still. The first, My failure, The second, the purpose of this place, the third, the motives of the short of life and long of reach, and I know that in what is left of my soul, the three are related.
No, it can’t be. It’s…It’s you. Impossible, yet here you are. Tell, Where is Quanaire?
It is I, Amul Eoneil, and I think that long from now, long long after even this shell decays, there will be a Man such as I was and he will call ME a Mad Alchemist, and that Man will one day meet with a terrible fate.
Tell me, friends, what you think has happened in your time apart? Whisper to me the web…the web that has been spun for you.
In truth, I cannot see the real strands from the imagined, but what I do see, the little I have gleamed, is a daggar in the dark. Their motives allude me, that is why I remain bound to this earth. I will not perish ignorant of their schemes.
After you disappeared, I could not mourn. There had been no chance of failure, and I could find no faults. The Emperor died shortly after the experiment, and the sickly prince took the thrown. He was the Ministry’s child even with Ser Mavron as his Regent. A clever hand dealt by most cunning of thieves. The Ministry needed the funds to prepare for the growing unrest with the Mage Guilds. Ser Mavron and I pleaded to keep the research going but the Crown and the Ministry were set against it. The Mage riots broke out. The short-lived rebellion quelled, the Sickly Emperor dies. To prevent a war for the crown, the Imperium was to be temporarily merged with the Ministry. A Ministry Palladin was appointed Steward. Ser Mavron would stay on as counselor to the throne. In return for this concession, research into the circles was restarted. New ruins were found far beneath the palace. An unfinished circle. I finished it and we begun testing. The results were proving greater than we could imagine. The magic we weaved.
It was the anniversary of the accident. The two of them, the Steward and the Counselor and I came here at night. They hailed me friend as I had thought we were. I know now that we had always hated each other intensely and I had been simply too naive to notice. We were celebrating the success of the project. The Steward retired for the evening, leaving Ser Mavron and I in the circle room. What happens next I have no recollection, and I awoke with a blade in my gut. The time was taken from me. I did not know how very powerful he had become, but I too had grown very powerful. As I bled onto the circle, I whisper in my death rattle a spell that would bind me to the magic of this place. I fell into a surface of fire and was bathed in torment, and returned so that I might discover the truth.