This blog post will contain spoilers for a dungeon in Beyond Skyrim: Bruma. Proceed only if you don't mind that fact!
"Chimer...?" the lich asked, voice rasping form disuse. Indeed, every part of him had seen disuse for the last few thousand years. "But... afflicted. What curse has befallen you... I wonder?" he asked.
"Dunmer," Eldawen replied firmly. "And the only curse that's befallen me is your existence!"
"No... you reek of Daedra magicks, Chimer. But it is of little consequence. You... must suffer for your transgressions!"
"But I've done nothing! You said yourself, the magic that awoke you is far away! I'm innocent!"
A sound approximating a laugh escaped from the lich's throat. "You cut your way into my city... ransack what little remains, all for... your own gain! You are not... innocent! You will be... punished for this! I, Surilaron, will break your will... twist your soul... a thousand times over, before I break your... body!"
Eldawen wove magicks into her hands. "Try me."
The lich had taken a few strikes, but none caused meaningful harm.
Eldawen had not been so lucky. The bolts from his staff seemed to rip at her very being, and the creature wielded a powerful fireball that she had only just avoided...
...at first. "AAGH!" she shrieked as she took the brunt of a fireball, ducking when she should have weaved. She only just kept her footing, retreating as best she could. She knew she couldn't keep this up.
Eldawen dug deep, searching for the flames. She reached out to Coldharbour, twirled its blue fire around her mind, and sent it coursing throughout her being. More and more she drew, more than she'd ever called before.
Surilaron drew close, twisting another ball of fire around his bony fingers. "Pitiful," he wheezed. "Your... mastery of magicka is... wanting. Perhaps you will glean a lesson in spellcasting from... the horrors I have in store for you...!"
"Fuck... OFF!" Eldawen shouted, letting loose all her pent-up energy. The lich let out a dry shriek as he was bathed in blue fire,
Eldawen collapsed, completely drained from her attack, body aching and wounds throbbing. It wasn't often she found herself genuinely fearing for her life. Selune had taught her how to tap into her deepest magicks, but she'd never been forced to do it in action before.
She sat for a long moment, pacing her breathing. She pulled a dried, chewy piece of stuff from her pouch, an energizing snack she'd invented herself. It wasn't terribly effective, but it was lighter and easier to transport than potions, so it worked for what it was.
The lich had been blasted to ash, but she spied something that had survived the blast...
"Interesting..." she said as she lifted the staff. Something resembling a Varla Stone was set into its end, and the shaft was made of heavy Ayleid iron. It pulsed with a power she didn't recognize, but could tell was Daedric in origin.
"Mom and dad will probably find this very interesting..." Eldawen said. It may be best, however, to omit the part where she nearly had her body and soul damned to eternal torture at the hands of an involuntary liched Ayleid wizard...
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