[hider=Niernen's mentor tells her about Divayth Fyr, 4000-year-old Telvanni sorcerer supreme.]

[img]http://images.uesp.net//e/e0/LG-cardart-Divayth%27s_Experiments.png[/img]

[i]22nd of Frostfall, 4E194
Silgrad, Morrowind
Llerwyn Othado’s manor[/i]

“Serjo Othado?” 

“Yes, Niernen?” 

“What do you know of Telvanni magic?” 

Llerwyn looked up from his scrolls and put down his quill. He stared at Niernen in the flickering candlelight for a few seconds over the rim of his half-moon spectacles, his face unreadable, before he replied. “I thought you came here to learn war magic.” 

He was old and wrinkled and his ancient hands, while still dutifully carrying out his wishes, contorted into a claw-like shape, weary with arthrosis. The girl standing in the doorway of his study was young -- [i]so[/i] young, he thought, her cheeks smooth and her hair luscious, and her copper eyes studied him intently. 

“Of course,” Niernen said, unsure whether this was a reprimand or not, “but… well, I’m just curious, that’s all.” She waited for a response but Llerwyn remained silent. “Is it true that they used to live in giant mushrooms they grew with magic?” 

Llerwyn huffed. “Used to? They still do. House Telvanni wasn’t entirely destroyed by the Argonians, you know. There’s a fellow up in Solstheim who lives in such a tower, near Raven Rock. I visited him once when I was summoned there by Councilor Morvayn to see if there was anything I could do about the ebony mine. It dried up, you see. Very bad for business. I wanted to ask the wizard if he, perhaps, knew of any magic that might help, but he barely had time to see me. Tried to pass me off to an assistant of his. Useless boy, of course.” 

Niernen crossed her arms and sighed as quietly as possible. 

“Either way… yes, they grow their towers with magic. I just think they’re showing off. It’s far from practical to have an entirely vertical house. Can’t get up or down without levitation magic, which was of course banned. Why? Do you want to grow a house made out of fungus?” Llerwyn asked and frowned. 

“No, no,” Niernen said and gestured dismissively with her hand. “What other magic did they possess? They must have been very powerful in combat if they studied magic their whole lives.” 

“Ha!” Llerwyn barked and laughed. “You would think so, but no. The Telvanni tried to close the Oblivion gates during the Crisis, two centuries ago, and failed. You know who succeeded? The [i]Argonians.[/i] Chased the Dremora right back where they came from. And then the those lizards ran right over the Telvanni when they invaded Morrowind. It took House Redoran to stop them, as you well know. No, the Telvanni were always far too busy studying the more… hmm, how to put it?” Llerwyn tapped his chin with a bony finger while he mused over his words. “They weren’t content to study the areas of magic defined within the traditional schools of sorcery.” 

Pleased that she had managed to coerce her teacher to talk, Niernen sat down on an empty chair next to Llerwyn’s desk. “Like what?” she asked.

“Have you ever heard of Divayth Fyr?”

“No.”

Llerwyn sighed and shook his head, as if disappointed. “Lord Fyr was one of House Telvanni’s most powerful sorcerers. While he wielded great influence he never aspired to political power and refused to join their Council. He wrote several books and there were books written about him too. Like the other wizard-lords he lived in a mushroom tower of his own creation. Below Tel Fyr lay the Corprusiarium, a prison of sorts, where he kept victims of Corprus, the “divine disease” spread by Dagoth Ur. You [i]have[/i] heard of Dagoth Ur, I should hope?” 

“Of course,” Niernen replied and rolled her eyes. 

“Hmph. Either way, Divayth Fyr would experiment on the victims of Corprus in the hopes of creating a cure. He succeeded in at least one case; the Nerevarine himself, who attained immortality in the process.” 

Niernen’s eyes widened at this. “Immortality? How?” 

“The name “divine disease” wasn’t an empty boast. Fyr theorized that it was actually the physical effect of contact with the divine upon a mortal body, which had both beneficial and extremely detrimental effects. The exact machinations of Corprus remain poorly understood to this day, but Fyr’s concoction successfully nullified the negative effects in Nerevar-Come-Again. Ironically, you could say that he was blessed by Dagoth Ur in the end.” 

“Are there other immortals now because of Corprus, too?” 

Llerwyn raised his hands and shrugged. “Perhaps, but I don’t think so. It was part of the prophecy that preceded the Nerevarine’s appearance that he would be immune to all diseases, and much like vampirism or lycanthropy, Corprus provided such an immunity.” He cleared his throat and continued, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Prophecies have power, Niernen, especially those uttered by a Daedric Prince. I’m inclined to believe that prophecy was true and the Nerevarine was a special case. As far as I know, everyone who Fyr gave his experimental cure to died instantly.” 

Niernen whistled. “How do you know all this?” she asked and tilted her head. 

“Because I was alive at the time, of course,”  Llerwyn replied and laughed. “That was near the end of the Third Era, so a little over 200 years ago. Dunmer wizards can live for a long time. A little Restoration magic goes a long way. But none lived as long as Divayth Fyr, who was born Chimer and walked this earth for more than 4000 years.” 

Dumbfounded, Niernen fell silent. 

“And of course your next question is ‘how?’, again,” Llerwyn said, still smiling. “And that’s precisely the core of House Telvanni’s problem: I don’t know. Nobody knows. They did not share knowledge with each other. It was even customary for ambitious Telvanni to assassinate one another to make way for themselves. House Redoran is no stranger to an honorable duel to the death every now and then, like how your ancestor Bolvyn fought and died to the Nerevarine, but not anything like the Telvanni. They were truly ruthless and very, very isolationist. When I receive a letter from a young daughter of an esteemed member of my House to request a position as my apprentice, I acquiesce. A Telvanni lord would have fortified his defenses and hired an assassin. Ours is a much better way to go about things, I believe.” 

Niernen thought about this for a few seconds while she looked at her lap. “Is he dead now?” she asked, eyes flitting back up to Llerwyn’s face. “You talk about him in past tense.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” the old Dunmer replied. “If anyone could have survived the Red Year, it would be him. I simply haven’t heard anything about him since then. One begins to make assumptions after two hundred years have passed. For all I know he retreated underground, or into Oblivion. Perhaps he lives on the other side of Morrowind in what remains of House Telvanni’s holdings. Or the Argonians got him. Who’s to say?” 

Llerwyn looked down at his papers and blinked a few times, his lips mouthing along to his thoughts. “Oh yes!” he muttered quietly and moved to pick up his quill. 

“Honestly,” Niernen said and sat up straight in her chair, interrupting Llerwyn’s attempt at resuming his work, “it sounds like Divayth Fyr performed very important research and his magic [i]was[/i] useful. He cured the Nerevarine and he lived to be thousands of years old. Imagine what he could tell us about the days of the Chimer?” 

“Does that matter?” Llerwyn snarled, suddenly annoyed. “A lot of his efforts were useless and deplorable, too. He made… [i]daughters[/i], female clones of himself, though I’d be more inclined to call them abominations, and he used them as consorts too. Can you imagine?” He looked disgusted. “Either way, his life was his own, that doesn’t matter either -- the point is that he and the other Telvanni couldn’t protect Morrowind. This isn’t the Third Era anymore, Niernen. The Tribunal are gone, the Nerevarine is gone and even the Empire is close to disintegrating again. Whether or not the Telvanni research was important is irrelevant to us because it is not our station to carry it out. We are the defenders of Resdayn. Do you know what you can rely on to carry out that sacred duty? Do you?” 

Niernen attempted to respond, but Llerwyn wagged a crooked finger at her and she closed her mouth again. 

“Fire and thunder!” the wizard spat, and for a brief moment his eyes lit up with the fury of a much younger elf. The moment went as soon as it came and Llerwyn sank bank in his chair -- he looked so old and frail to Niernen then it was almost as if he was about to disappear into his ornate robes. She stared at him expectantly, eyes wide, picturing how fierce her mentor might have been in his day. 

“Bah,” Llerwyn grumbled. “You need not worry. That Telvanni wizard on Solstheim I told you about, Neloth, seems to be carrying on Divayth Fyr’s work. In spirit, anyway. I think he was studying the ash of Red Mountain when I visited him. That’s exactly the kind of nonsense Divayth Fyr would have occupied himself with for a few centuries.” 

Then he returned his gaze to his scrolls again, this time with an air of finality about him, shuffling his papers while whispering urgently to himself. Niernen took the hint, excused herself and made her way out of the room. She stopped at the door and turned to look over her shoulder at the elder Othado, but he did not spare her another glance. She exhaled sharply through her nose and looked away. The younger Othado should be around somewhere too. Niernen wondered if he was as fierce as Llerwyn might have been. Smiling to herself, she left the old wizard to his devices.[/hider]