- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per day
- Writing Levels
- Prestige
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Fantasy, Science Fiction, Science Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Action, Adventure, Horror, Superheroes
Valoren Alorathan, the Nerevarine
Valoren nodded with a polite smile on his face and proceeded to walk around, gathering the scattered fragments. In order for the proper magic to work, he'd require at least half the pieces, although more of them would make the process easier.
Once he and Nero accumulated a satisfactory amount, Valoren told him to put the pieces into a neat pile and step back.
Waving his spear a little, Valoren spoke a couple of words in a strange flowery language that didn't sound like anything Nero would've ever heard before. The shards of the Overture vibrated and rumbled, then snapped to each other as if magnetized, assuming an outline that resembled the previous arm, but with various fractures and missing pieces. The shard-clump started to grow new bits of plastic and matter on them where required, and filled in the fractures with a discolored mottled featureless metal; to someone with no experience in such magic, it would have been a fascinating sight, like watching moss sprout from within a cracked boulder in a timelapse.
And in seconds, the completed work floated up and hovered in the air. With a smile, Valoren nodded and said, "Good as new. Well, for the most part - like I said, Restoration Magic isn't my forte, so it could be a tad more fragile than you're used to. If you require it later, I may be able to craft more such artifice for you. I'm a proficient enchanter and whatnot."
Valoren took a single glance at Wraithguard, the polished ancient Dwemer gauntlet on his arm. It would have been a fascinating thought experiment to transform it into a prosthetic.
"Well, I believe we should talk to the others, now. And I want to study that dragon." Valoren looked to where its carcass had landed.
A dragon's scale, bone, and sinew could make for the most exquisite weapons, armor, and mechanisms; its flesh boiled into a soup would give strength to a hundred men, its blood transformed into a potion could yield a dozen mystical effects, and its eyes and internal organs had a robust list of uses ranging from the chemical to industrial. In his time, Nerevar had never seen ingredients of such scarce rarity, but he knew better than anyone that a dragon's body was a pile of immeasurable wealth and power.
Well, to mortals, at least. To him, it was more like a curio with a slight amount of potential, but that did not dispel its wonder at all.
There was also an odd man in strange clothing standing right next to it, identifiably the one who'd put out the fires all over the city.
Valoren nodded with a polite smile on his face and proceeded to walk around, gathering the scattered fragments. In order for the proper magic to work, he'd require at least half the pieces, although more of them would make the process easier.
Once he and Nero accumulated a satisfactory amount, Valoren told him to put the pieces into a neat pile and step back.
Waving his spear a little, Valoren spoke a couple of words in a strange flowery language that didn't sound like anything Nero would've ever heard before. The shards of the Overture vibrated and rumbled, then snapped to each other as if magnetized, assuming an outline that resembled the previous arm, but with various fractures and missing pieces. The shard-clump started to grow new bits of plastic and matter on them where required, and filled in the fractures with a discolored mottled featureless metal; to someone with no experience in such magic, it would have been a fascinating sight, like watching moss sprout from within a cracked boulder in a timelapse.
And in seconds, the completed work floated up and hovered in the air. With a smile, Valoren nodded and said, "Good as new. Well, for the most part - like I said, Restoration Magic isn't my forte, so it could be a tad more fragile than you're used to. If you require it later, I may be able to craft more such artifice for you. I'm a proficient enchanter and whatnot."
Valoren took a single glance at Wraithguard, the polished ancient Dwemer gauntlet on his arm. It would have been a fascinating thought experiment to transform it into a prosthetic.
"Well, I believe we should talk to the others, now. And I want to study that dragon." Valoren looked to where its carcass had landed.
A dragon's scale, bone, and sinew could make for the most exquisite weapons, armor, and mechanisms; its flesh boiled into a soup would give strength to a hundred men, its blood transformed into a potion could yield a dozen mystical effects, and its eyes and internal organs had a robust list of uses ranging from the chemical to industrial. In his time, Nerevar had never seen ingredients of such scarce rarity, but he knew better than anyone that a dragon's body was a pile of immeasurable wealth and power.
Well, to mortals, at least. To him, it was more like a curio with a slight amount of potential, but that did not dispel its wonder at all.
There was also an odd man in strange clothing standing right next to it, identifiably the one who'd put out the fires all over the city.
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