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SpaceMarine88

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re: Telvanni Navradas Taryl

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Summary - Part I

 

 

Name:

Navradas Taryl 

 

Age:

Born somewhen in the second half of the First Era. Do your mathemagics.

 

Birthsign:

The Thief

 

Profession

Master Wizard of Great House Telvanni

 

Appearance:

Rejuvenation normally alters his physical appearance within the boundaries of certain parameters. Currently, Navradas’ body appears to be rather young, betraying his true age, knowledge and abilities. He seems to be a quirky, red-haired Dunmer adolescent, his face adorned with skin markings traditional to certain areas of Morrowind’s western borderland, but otherwise strangely anachronistic. 

Fashion-wise, the Mage Lord prefers brightly colored robes, especially in red, golden and orange hues, adhering to the most ancient Telvanni arts of Dunmeri tailoring both in pattern and overall design. The magicka-enhancing enchantments were created by himself, based on Ehlnofey principles. More then one robe burst into flames before the ultimate mana-matrix had been woven into the intricate spider silk fabric of the clothing, stabilizing the shifting meaning of Ehlnofex rune stones and infusing mundane matter with proto-mundane properties. The many pockets these robes contain are linked to reality-external dimensions of Navradas’ own making, serving as storage room for whatever he might find on his travels and expeditions. 

In combat, the wizard relies on his battle magicks. To focus these powers, he wields a mage staff created out of numerous Dwemer artifacts sujammaberry-picked by himself over the course of decades during his early expeditions as an independent Telvanni. And while he tends to avoid direct confrontations, when faced with an enemy forcing his hand, Navradas primarily utilizes destruction spells of the fire elemental category. Reality-warping Alteration spells, illusions and eldritch light as well as lightning supplement this devastating arcane repertoire. 

The mage staff can, if the wielder reverses the polarity of the creatia-flow, just as well be used to amplify Restauration magic – a field of wizardry Navradas has more than some experience in. 

 

Background and personality:

Navradas was born in the second half of the First Era, when the Dunmer people still were young and unaccustomed to their ashen skin. His ancestors left Resdayn of old when the First Council began its decline. Yet even in the strange western lands of Man they were not removed far enough from their kin to escape the ripples Red Mountain sent through the metaphysical makeup of the then Chimer-race. When the Walking Star burnt the Inner Sea into continental Morrowind, and time was reshaped by the will of the Triune, all descendants of Veloth still bound to the Starry Heart of Tamriel changed.

Their new, many humans said demonic, appearance even furthered the gap between Velothi immigrants and Cyrodiilic natives of the pre-Remanite Imperial Province. Misused as scapegoats for famine and conflict, cast aside by Nibenese mainstream society and cut off their own homeland, the Dunmer of eastern Cyrod were left impoverished and often turned criminal to survive. 

Under these challenging circumstances, many of the poorest migrant clans sold their own offspring into slavery. At the time, lawless Dunmeri Tong associated with early House Dres organized massive slave trafficking across the Velothi mountain range marking the border between Cyrodiil’s wild east and the alien realm of Morrowind. 

As a child not even in his teens, Navradas was surrendered to such a fate. His family, a Cheydinhali Dunmer clan rich in numbers but poor in Drakes, struck a deal with the local Camonna Tong cell. The boy was integrated into a slave caravan and journeyed across the dangerous Velothi mountains. In the Ogre- and Orc-infested wilderness between the domains of Man and Mer, he finally fell to his own rage. After a childhood of servitude, duties and silent diligence in the face of misery, the young Dark Elf snapped here, at his lowest point. 

He had been a calm, introvert child, seldom complaining, never showing weaknesses. His extraordinary sensitivity towards the magical nature of the world never became really apparent until the fateful day a Tong slaver denied him water after days of march through the unforgiving wastes the caravan had to cross. 

As if possessed by Oblivion itself, Navradas assaulted the unsuspecting guardsmer with crude yet devastating spellwork, mortally wounding him in a burst of flame and sheer psychokinetic force. Confused, not at all himself, the young Dunmer seized the moment like in trance, using the temporary discomposure of the caravan guards as well as the panicking slaves to steal a pack Guar and flee. 

Magicka kept the boy alive for the following days. But magicka also clouded his memory and reason. Overwhelmed by the events, emotionally wounded and deeply irritated, Navradas just travelled onwards in the direction the sun was rising. The land of dusk he left behind offered nothing but a family which betrayed him, so the land of dawn his ancestors hailed from was as good a choice as any.

Magic can not eternally sustain the bodies of those not formally trained in its use, and not accustomed to its potential. When the boy was found, he already reached the westernmost parts of Stonefalls, his body apparently devoid of life, his Guar grazing in the vicinity and hungry Cliffdarters circling the sky above. The priests of Iliath Temple, on a monthly pilgrimage to an old Azuran shrine constructed by the Chimer at the eastern slopes of the Velothi mountains only known as the Tabernacle of Dawn, brought beast and Mer back to their sanctuary. In the following night the healers of Iliath Temple desperately fought for Navradas’ life, bringing the full repertoire of healing magic and alchemy they possessed to effect. In this night, the constellation of the Thief shined brightly on the firmament, bathing the holy grounds of the temple in the twilight of uncertainty. 

The boy lived.

The priesthood quickly became aware of his status as an Outlander, a Dunmer born in foreign lands, not versed in the subtleties of Morrowind social life, politics and faith. Back in Cyrod, in Cheydin’s Hall, religion was nothing to be concerned over. Navradas’ parents prayed to the ancestors from time to time, and more often they cursed in the name of evil gods and demons from the most hellish circles of Oblivion, but their children never received any proper religious education – not that they desired it. Going to bed with a more or less filled stomach tended to be the daily priority overwriting almost everything else. 

The priesthood took it upon itself to teach Navradas. His survival was seen as a miracle, his destiny clearly tied to the faith of the Tribunal. For the first time in his short life, Navradas came into contact with the concept of ALMSIVI, the three living gods of Morrowind, patrons of the Dunmer people. 

Suffice it to say: he was unimpressed. Not by the Triune Gods themselves, but by his own life in the strict confines Iliath Temple had to offer its acolytes and aspirants. Attacking that slaver in the mountains had ignited a flame within the young Mer not easily to be extinguished again by rules and regulations. He wanted to dive into his formerly hidden talents, wanted to discover the secrets of the arcane he unwittingly unleashed at the Camonna Tong – all that still escaped his grasp. 

The Tribunal priests would not let go of him easily, so much he understood quickly. The Dark Elf let them nurture him back to health, allowed them to explain some of the more superficial aspects of the native culture, and he profited from their knowledge and kindness during his months-long stay at the temple complex. 

His escape, the Dunmer planned carefully and over the course of many weeks. He had plenty of time to scout the area, to memorize the patrol routes of the Ordinators and the daily habits of the resident priesthood. When he did not plan his escape or receive lectures from the clerics, he spent time in the temple library, studying that which he desired whenever he managed to avoid the prying eyes of the Tribunal scholars. 

Armed with his unrefined abilities, determination and a chaotic array of half-knowledge, Navradas Taryl tried his coup in an especially dark, moonless night on a 3rd of Hearthfire – not only by chance Nocturnal’s summoning day. In retrospect, it certainly was more due to luck then to careful planning (no matter how meticulously exercised) that the young Dark Elf from Cyrodiil actually managed to escape with the very pack Guar he originally stole to get away from the Camonna Tong slavers, and which Iliath Temple took care of ever since up to this point. 

On Guar back, the escapee rode south without pause until the new morning dawned. The dark towers of the Dres city of Kragenmoor loomed on the horizon. Navradas, aware of the danger the Dunmer of Great House Dres posed to him, circumvented the slaver’s stronghold. The food he took from Iliath Temple lasted him for a few more days on his trip towards the city of Narsis, which – according to his studies – should have been large and far away enough to practically disappear in. 

In the fifth night, Navradas just reached the northern tip of Deshaan’s heartland region after successfully braving southern Stonefalls’ treacherous ashlands, the runaway slave and would-be-Tribunal-cleric happened upon a small group of Netchimen and their beasts. When dusk fell, Navradas stalked the Netchimen to their small campsite just south of the Redoran enclave of Serkamora, with lake Hlaalu only a stone’s throw away to the south-east. 

Although his stolen supplies would still last him for some time, the ragged Dark Elf could not pass such an opportunity. He observed the Netchimen overdoing the Sujamma after a hard day’s work, drifting off to sleep one by one, only leaving a single Mer awake to guard their camp. Convinced he can sneak by that Netch herder, Navradas approached the camp coming from the nearby Emperor Parasol mushroom forest. 

Little did the inexperienced boy think of the two Nix-hounds accompanying the herd. The loyal animals caught on his scent and alerted their masters. Enraged, the Netchimen hunted Navradas through the adjacent mushroom forest. It was a matter of second until the Nix-hounds stopped him, forcing the Dark Elf adolescent to the ground, ripping through his clothes and holding him down. Navradas panicked, instinctively tapping into his unrefined magicka reserves, casting a shock spell, throwing off the Nix-hounds and knocking them unconscious. 

The Netchimen chased Navradas for a few more minutes, but they never caught him. He managed to disappear into the shadows of the Emperor Parasols, but lost his trusty Guar in the process. Luckily, the pack animal linked Navradas to food and waited next to him when he awoke after a few hours of uneasy sleep in a natural cave overlooking lake Hlaalu. 

Refreshed by a spongy Guar tongue licking over his face, the unlucky Dunmer continued his journey to Narsis. The ancestral Hlaalu capital at the southern shores of the impressive lake finally greeted him with open gates, streets full of caravans, traders, merchants, craftsmer and artisans, but also dark alleys, beggars, prostitutes and a more then fair share of shady residents. 

Narsis only took a few days to crush Navradas’ hopes. He was indeed able to disappear among the outcasts, the lawless, the slaves and the dispossessed, concentrated in the city’s slums, cloaked only by the shadows the local temples of ALMSIVI cast on the rabble below. The young Dunmer stole food to survive, and yet held on to his Guar even when going for days without nourishment. 

Things changed when Navradas, after almost two years on the streets, came upon a part of Narsis even the thieves, murderers and the more clever con artists tried to avoid like a mudcrab would avoid a trip to the Alik’r. He aspired to make some beneficial deals here, or at the very least rob a store or two without being beaten to it by other criminals or the Ordinators already patrolling the streets.

This quarter held entirely different things for the boy, though. Dunmer in dark robes approached him, preaching of their lord and savior: The Woodland Man, the Abyssal Cephaliarch, the God of Knowledge, the Gardener of Men. Spellbound by their whispers of wisdom, their promises of understanding and their words of empathy, Navradas Taryl soon joint this secret cabal of influential Hlaalu citizens and their overzealous followers. Among the numbers of the Daedra worshippers, he found the open-mindedness, sense of community and time for personal study he so long desired. The cult guaranteed Navradas’ worldly needs were taken care of, to allow him to concentrate on the otherworldly and obscure. In turn, the Hermaeus Mora devotees only demanded that the young Dark Elf used his considerable arcane and scientific talents to further the secret society’s understanding of the Aurbis. He was still young, and easily brainwashed into thinking he was an important, relevant part of the cult and not just one more Netch waiting for the butcher. 

What little remained of Navradas’ youth died when he was pressured into vivisecting his own Guar, ripping the loyal animal apart piece by piece to study its inner workings and to conserve its organs and other body parts. Yet it took another decade for the young Dunmer to understand what the Daedric cult really was, what they really wanted, and that he was not at all special to them, but only another experiment, a sacrifice on the altar of unholy knowledge, offered through the corruption of his very own life. 

Naiveté and youthful foolishness gradually turned into cold blooded calculation. Step by step, Navradas left the path of the archetypical Daedra worshipper, no longer completely blinded by the glory and revelations of his so called deity. After some time of doubt and faith crisis, the Dark Elf decided to betray the cult. At first, this decision did not change much regarding his daily routine. He still studied, he still delved into the contents of eldritch tomes and supernatural scrolls, filling his mind with information many would coin as forbidden. Little morality hindered Navradas. Thus far, life offered him little accommodation. Justice, right and wrong – these things mattered not in his world view. For Navradas, there was not much else but to survive and to get through with his own desires. When he finally dropped hints to some very specific city folk about the conspiracy brewing in the darkest corners of Narsis, there was no remorse. The Daedric cult, in his mind, was used up and thusly had to be discarded. Like his parents got rid of him, and like he himself denied the Tribunal Temple’s plans for his destiny. 

It did not take long for certain Hlaalu nobles to act on the rumors of unsanctioned Daedra worship practiced by (potential) rivals. Several meeting places of the elusive cabal were simultaneously raided by the city guard, resulting in a blood bath and an all-out clash between the forces of Hermaeus Mora’s devotees and those opposed to the cult. For days, entire quarters of Narsis were sealed off and heavy fighting took place in the streets, what resulted in the utter eradication of the majority of cultists, and the escape of their now disgraced leadership. 

At this point, Navradas Taryl was already miles away from the contested Hlaalu seat of power. He took everything from the cult he could get before the guards attacked, expecting their arrival, and made off with three Guars and a small fortune in spell books, scrolls and magical artifacts. And as one chapter of his life closed, another promptly opened. Conventional work was not a part of Navradas’ plan. He would just travel the land of his ancestors as a free and independent Mer, taking whatever his heart desired from wherever and whomever he wanted. He was still young, smart and motivated to not allow others in control over his fate again.

The rapscallion managed to make some coin by petty thievery, fraud and multiple other forms of half-legal or fully illegal activities, from Muth Gnaar over the outskirts of the great Dunmeri capital city of Mournhold all the way to the jungles of the south, where the most remote regions of Deshaan clash with the always changing borders of the Black Marsh. Navradas always left a location right before the law was able to catch on to him. He knew who to talk to, when to act and how to avoid the authorities. While he had contacts with the countrywide (and beyond) operating crime organization Camonna Tong, as well as with the relatively benign thieves association Bal Molagmer based on the sacrosanct island of Vvardenfell, Navradas never joint any of these guild-like groups. 

With time, he became more daring, and began to organize bigger heists with the help of an array of chosen individuals he considered trustworthy. When the robbery of an Ayleid vault under then Dunmer controlled Stormhold went sour, with guards reacting far quicker to the robbery then expected, Navradas barely made it out of the place alive – and as a free Mer. 

Without further hesitation, he broke up shop in the vast south and travelled to the north-eastern coast of Morrowind. There, in the dominion of the mad wizards of Great House Telvanni, he hoped to find new hunting grounds for his criminal activity to flourish. 

The Telvanni Coast only held misery for him in the beginning. Every household worth robbing was magically warded or guarded by private security forces. Even most of the rich Mer themselves were able to cast more than just basic spells. As an outsider – and a thief nonetheless – Navradas had a hard time gaining access to this strange, magocratically organized society. He saw this as a challenge and a chance to deepen his own magical understanding. Sure, it was hard to get by in the land of the Telvanni, but hardship would only make him better at what he was doing. 

This very Dunmeri mindset kept Navradas motivated. He decided to further cultivate his arcane abilities. During his years in Deshaan, he already learnt to control a certain amount of his magicka, and to use the mystic forces of Aetherius to his own advantage. Then, he concentrated on illusions, conjuration, alteration and a bit of alchemy. Now, he stepped up his game in all the schools of magic, to match the locals and, ultimately, beat the bigger slaughterfish in their own game. 

Everything he knew, he taught to himself by study and practice. This trend continued. Navradas robbed smaller magic and alchemy shops and slowly but steadily supplied himself with new spell tomes, ingredients, soulgems, runestones and laboratory equipment. The aspiring mage-thief set up camp in the not easily accessible Boethiahn mountains. This barren, rocky region forms the very center of the Telvanni domain and divides the Great House’s western coastal holdings – generally favoring connections to the Vvardenfell region around Sadrith Mora - from the eastern coastal holdings – generally more synchronized with the grand island-capital of Port Telvannis itself.

Shielded from other people by the inaccessibility of the refuge, Navradas honed his arcane abilities, perfecting them within the scope of the currently possible over the course of an entire decade, living like a hermit in the mountain wilderness and only leaving his campsite to steal supplies – mystical or mundane alike. The lawless young Mer experimented on the local fauna and flora, and even – although unsuccessful – attempted to create his own version of a mushroom building (it took weeks for the smell to disappear). He trapped souls, learnt the powerful language of the Ehlnofey runestones to imbue objects with magical force, advanced his mastery of the elements and began to delve into transliminal portal magic and the more advanced Daedric arts. 

The former Hermaeus Mora cultist leapt forward, taking on bigger and more sophisticated wizards during his supply runs, emptying the stores of many Telvanni retainers. Then, he began to rob Telvanni estates, and even small tower fortresses along the western and eastern coastal holdings. Once more, learning and studying became its own reward. Navradas stole to get his hands on better mystical paraphernalia, which he in turn used to pull off more elaborate heists. 

With success came hubris. Navradas decided to raid the tower fortress of one of the more prominent Mage Lords of the Telvanni Coast. Tel Relleis, the ancient mushroom citadel of Master Wizard Erebain Silvanni, lured the ambitious Dark Elf with stories of arcane riches and horded knowledge beyond measure. Tel Relleis had been grown off shore the western Telvanni Coast, almost half way to the Great House’s Vvardenfell district capital of Sadrith Mora. The mighty roots and transplanar mycelia of the living stronghold reached deep down into the Inner Sea, anchoring it in the ragged stone and sandy plains of the ocean floor. Navradas planned to use the wizard tower’s remote location to his advantage, casting a water breathing as well as a reversed feather spell to walk through the Inner Sea and reach the fortress’ base by foot. 

His training was focused very specific tasks for months, steadily prolonging the duration of his ability to breathe water and to journey hundreds of meters under the sea. Furthermore, he planned a diversion, bringing an enchanted glass shard with him. The artifact was said to have originated from the legendary Dreugh underwater kingdoms - the lost Cities of Glass and Coral. Said shard was capable of – when hit with a simple telekinetic spell – sending out a shockwave of invisible force several dozen miles in all directions, agitating Dreugh beyond even their most basic instinct of self-preservation. With the arcane defense mechanisms of Tel Relleis overwhelmed by the sheer number of mad Dreugh, gaining entrance to the tower fortress stroke Navradas as a minor challenge. 

To be short: he miscalculated.

Not only was he detected by the tower’s scrying perimeter, the effects of his enchanted glass shard were negated by a suddenly raised magicka suppression field – along with his water-breathing and ward spells. Just as the Inner Sea threatened to drown and crush him, Navradas was teleported to what he, at the moment, conceived as safety: the inside of Tel Relleis. 

Here, he would soon learn that there are fates much more cruel then death. 

After a superficial examination, Lord Erebain’s household retainers brought the caught thief before their master. Wrapped in unbreakable chains forged in the Daedric flames of the Deadlands, branded with binding Ehlnofey runes and forced by a magical burden placed on his shoulders to permanently crawl, Navradas still defied the Mage Lord when he reached the top of Tel Relleis. Neither did he look into Erebain’s eyes, nor did he beg for mercy. The lawless Mer knew well that the masters of House Telvanni only respected strength, and strength he showed them. Given the circumstances, this tactic was perhaps the only viable Navradas could choose. 

Without further interrogation, the lord of Tel Relleis had the thief thrown into his dungeon, where torture and humiliation waited for those unlucky enough to cross a Telvanni wizard. His arcane talent and skill were nothing before the ranking members of the Silvanni household. Navradas was reduced to a plaything and test subject. His body was repeatedly pushed to the brink, and even well beyond. Death was no limit in the gloomy prisons beneath the mushroom tower. Flesh can be mended. Restructured. Distorted. Navradas’ mind was subjected to tantalizing agony as well. Illusion spells and drugs, after a while, robbed him of his sense of reality. 

Yet he did not yield. Defiance was all left to the thief. He was too stubborn to die, too determined yet to find purpose in this existence, too strong-minded to already let go of the mortal coil. 

Impressed by the reports of his retainers, Lord Erebain Silvanni decided to personally organize Navradas’ hell on Nirn. This only strengthened the thief’s resolve. He succeeded in calling attention to himself after he was thrown into the dungeons to rot. He was not too easily forgotten, not even by the highest and mightiest of the household.

As it is so often the case, things got worse before they could get better. If the previous torture was cruel, what now followed could only be described as truly diabolical. Erebain, a wizard of several hundred years of age and experience in the arcane arts, brought his full arsenal to bear down on his comparatively young victim. Soul and body were split on several occasions, Navradas’ mind phased in and out of existence and his powerless ghost was forced into the most nightmarish of Oblivion planes. Total sensory deprivation, partial Daedric possession, self-damaging enchantment of vital inner organs and other body parts – Erebain realized every nightmare he found in the thoughts of his prisoner and more. 

Despite Navradas’ initial defiance, he eventually reached his breaking point under the care of the mad Wizard Lord, begging for the mercy of swift execution. 

Needlessly to say, he was denied this mercy.

Instead, Lord Erebain ceased his torture and pronounced that, regardless of Navradas’ eventual failure to resist, the thief was worthy of Telvanni apprenticeship. 

In a sense, torture continued. 

As a Telvanni apprentice, Navradas was subjected to brutal competition between multiple promising individuals in the Silvanni household. The infighting between these wizard students was not only tolerated, but actually encouraged by Lord Erebain himself. He hoped to breed ambition and cunning among his apprentices, which he recruited from all over the land, and only on basis of personal impression. Neither social standing nor name or even race truly mattered. Navradas had been chosen because of his ingenuity and willpower, as well as his magicka aptitude – a talent impossible to hide from a Master Wizard’s eyes.

Studying under one of the more eccentric Telvanni mages is always a time consuming, exhausting procedure – for the survivors at least. Navradas Taryl stayed at Tel Relleis for quarter a century before he was able to fight, plot and cheat his way into the upper echelon of Lord Erebain’s apprentices. The openness of study and the freedom of thought he was granted convinced him of the Telvanni ideology’s advantages. There was little lust for vengeance against the Master Wizard himself, although some of his more expendable retainers tended to disappear, paying the ultimate price for their previous acts of cruelty against Navradas. 

The higher the former thief rose, the more challenging became the competition. To take only one of the senior students out of the equation required one decade or more of careful planning and preparation, everything whilst fending off the plots of the other apprentices. 

In the end, Navradas came out on top. His hunger for power and knowledge was not at all saturated when Mage Lord Erebain Silvanni began to carry out missions with him. The personal training resulted in another great leap forward. The once lawless Mer, who now felt himself completely beyond all laws of mere mortals, mastered some of the most complex arcane arts. His research lead to an advancement of mystical understanding on many levels, impressing Telvanni experts all over the district. Word of the prodigy reached, in due time, Port Telvannis. 

That was not a good thing.

Telvanni rivalry is not limited to the lower levels of the hierarchy. To the contrary, actually. The Mage Lords always plot against each other, and they greatly pride themselves by their chosen apprentices. If the apprentice of one Master Wizard shows enough promise, he automatically becomes the target of other Master Wizards and their respective pupils.

Mage Lady Telvanni Jarah Drothan of Tel Enamor, a mushroom tower located closely to the Living Metropolis, Port Telvannis itself, was the main problem Navradas should face in the coming years. Time and again, assassination attemps were undertaken to eliminate him, plots carried out by Jarah Drothan's pupils and other Mer associated with her who wanted some form of recognition by an influential Telvanni wizard.

Low scale conflicts between Telvanni clans were the norm, not the exception, and it was in the best interest of all involved mage nobles to cover up their true dispositions and carefully woven alliance networks within the Great House.

While the former thief considered these intrigues to be essentially useless, only limiting the Telvanni's time for research and deep thoughts, he had to master the game to live on.

Competition, struggle and hardship breed the superior Mer. So Navradas waged a clandestine war against the enemies of Tel Relleis and his own, answered political maneuver with political maneuver, murder attempt with murder attempt, sabotage with sabotage.

When a traditional wizard duel between two Telvanni commences, every other possibility to solve the problem has been thourogly and unsuccesfully tried. A wizard duel is a defeat before it started, for both contestants. Fighting in the open, head on, spell versus spell, curse versus curse, is not the way for a rising Telvanni to succeed, but to quickly fall to the cunning of people wise enough to stay in the shadows.

Navradas' master did not even attend the duel his favorite student sought to end the taxing, long lasting conflict with Tel Enamor.

Instead of challenging one of the senior apprentices of Mage Lady Jarah, he - in a move observers judged as bordering the truly maniacal - dared the mistress herself to fight him.

Confident to deal a massive blow to her rival Erebain's reputation by destroying a promising apprentice with her fully unleashed arcana, the ancient Mage Lady gleefully agreed to the duel.

The fight was set to take place in Port Telvannis, witnessed by an unusual amount of retainers, nobles and wizards.

Navradas stood no chance by going toe to toe with Lady Jarah - a fact he was perfectly aware of.

Not being the maniac many a Mer thought him to be, he simply gave Port Telvannis a wide berth when that faitful day dawned. Delighted by the supposed cowardice of her very challenger, Lady Jarah Drothan mocked Navradas and his master in front of the crowd, declaring a victory that tasted even sweeter then the actualy demise of the young opponent.

The resounding laughter of Tel Enamor's mistress was cut short by a barrage of poisoned throwing darts, raining down from the upper levels of the Living City. 

Too late in raising her wards or to recall out of the situation, Mage Lady Jarah was struck down, the unholy magicks keeping her ancient flesh alive failing to a toxin carefully prepared to only fullfill that one purpose.

Telvanni guards quickly dispersed to seize the culprits, only to be greeted by several Morag Tong assassins and quickly presented with an authentic honorable writ of execution, dating back more then a hundred years, but still legally in effect.

House Indoril wanted Lady Jarah dead since the Temple's Order of the Inquisition verified several accusations of unsanctioned necromancy, necrophilia and consorting with the Four Corners of the House of Troubles in thrice sacrilegious manner.

The century old writ was never carried out, since Lady Jarah only seldomly and extremely secretly left her tower fortress, which had proven to be impenetrable even to Morrowind's legal assassins.

Providing the hag with a bait even she was unable to resist, luring her into the open for a most public event, Navradas did by deception what he never could have accomplished by force.

In the end, the hubris and ambition of Jarah Drothan proved to be even greater then her healthy Telvanni paranoia. Her struggle with Lord Erebain Silvanni was her undoing in more then only one way.

Many say the ancient mistress had lost her wit, and would have never made such a critical mistake at her prime, but even more were impressed by the ruthless strategem Navradas had carried out. Ultimately, he did not even give the Morag Tong a hint or provided them with the means to kill the Mage Lady. He trusted in their competence to eliminate even the most powerful spell wielders, and was thusly not disappointed.

---to be continued---

Inspiration for the character:

Divayth Fyr and Telvanni Neloth (Elder Scrolls series – obviously)

10th, 11th and 12th Doctors as well as the Master (Doctor Who)

Rick (Rick and Morty)

Mordin Solus (Mass Effect II+III)

Kreia (Star Wars – Knights of the Old Republic II)

Doctor Kleiner (Half Life series)

Kosh (Babylon 5)

Technomages (Babylon 5)

Inquisitor Bronislaw Czevak (Warhammer 40k)

Both Stanley and Stanford Pines (Gravity Falls)

Peridot (Steven Universe)

Darth Plagueis (Star Wars)

Lovecraftian stuff

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