Power Corrupts: Cataclysm (ch. 69) (Patreon)

A woman walked towards me during the middle of the meeting as the gods bickered back and forth about something. It had been three days since the meeting began, but it felt like it had been closer to three decades. Mostly because pretty much nothing had been accomplished. outside of wasting time, and it was like they were determined to waste it too.

Which is why a woman with pale skin, black hair, and painted black lips slinking her way towards the Aedra table caught my attention. Especially when I didn't see anyone else so much as glance at her as she plucked a grape from the Stormcloak table as she walked by. She chewed on the grape thoughtfully, a small smile on her face as she slipped through the gap between the tables. She practically skipped over towards us, no one even glancing at her.

It became readily apparent why when she stood in front of Hestia and reached out to pour something in her drink.

It was then that I reached out, grabbed a fist full of her hair, and slammed it down into the table with a solid thunk that spilled the wine that the woman just tried to poison. She screamed out in pain, her head trapped between the table and my hand -- she'd have to tear off her own head before I let up.

"Jericho?!" Hestia shouted, cutting herself off mid-sentence to look to me. I neglected to answer, reaching out to pry the poison from the would-be assassin's hands. In doing so, I saw the ring on her finger.

I sighed, trying to pull the ring off, but it wouldn't budge. So, I just took the finger with it. The entire room flinched when the woman suddenly screamed, clutching her hand as I let go of her head. That at least proved that they could see her. Holding the finger up, I looked at the ring… then to Namira.

"What's going on? Is it another assassination attempt?" The High King questioned, turning to me looking alarmed as I casually stepped onto the table rather than around it. "Jericho?"

Reaching back to grab the poison, I walked to the goddess in question, who looked up at me with faint amusement. The others looked on warily, while Sheogorath started laughing, probably knowing exactly what I was about to do. I reached out just slowly enough to see that amused expression wipe itself from her face, before I grabbed her jaw and forced open her mouth. With my other hand, I poured the poison inside. Once it was in, I forced her mouth shut and pinched her nose, waiting for her to swallow.

There was some shouting, but for the most part, people just watched for a few minutes as Namira thrashed in my grip before she started to seize, proving that she had finally swallowed the poison. Foam leaked out of her mouth before her body slumped forward, making gagging noises before going quiet.

A deafening silence filled the hall as I silently returned to my position behind Hestia, not even the would-be assassin making a sound.

"Now would likely be a good time to decide what should happen in the event of a god's death," Talos remarked, making Sheogorath start laughing again, getting out of her chair to poke at Namira's corpse with a stick.

"Why was Hestia the target?" A Daedra asked amongst the general muttering of agreement.

"Ah… he's scary. Could you show a little hesitation before you murder a god?"

"That was a fun distraction. Finally, something happened," another Daedra agreed. Sanguine.

Hestia coughed, "I believe that there should be no consequences for a person murdering a god!" She decided, and her biases couldn't have been more apparent if she were trying. She slapped a hand down on the table for emphasis while I quietly inspected the ring.

The Ring of Namira, capable of making one completely undetectable. That was going to be useful, I thought as I put the ring in my inventory while I quickly checked my stats. It was disappointing but unexpected that I got a paltry few points of exp for killing a god. She was just a normal woman for all intents and purposes. Though, I would hopefully get something like Godslayer as a Title.

"This was clearly a case of self-defense…" Dibella muttered, casting a look in my direction.

"The Daedra sought to murder Divine Hestia," Jarl Balgruuf spoke up. "He was honor-bound to defend her and retaliate."

"Against the gods? He didn't challenge her to a duel. He poisoned her." One of the other Stormcloaks pointed out.

"The same poison that was going to be used to murder Divine Hestia," Balgruuf shot back. "It was a fitting punishment." Always nice to see that someone had my back.

"That is not for mortals to decide," Stendarr spoke up, surprising everyone. "This meeting… This is where we gods decide the restrictions that should be placed on us for the good of all. The mortals have a voice in this, that is true, but you do not decide a fitting punishment for our misdeeds." He rebuked, taking the wind out of Balgruuf's sails. "Jericho, do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"I don't regret it," I announced, knowing it was pointless to lie in a room full of gods. I saw Nocturnal hide a smile behind a wine glass. "She tried to kill Hestia. I don't care about her reasons why. When she comes back, I'm demanding a thank you for sparing her shitty assassin instead of crushing her head like a grape. By the way, Ulfric -- she stole some of your grapes, so you might want to leave them alone." I added, looking at the Stormcloak leader, his hand poised to take one.

Hestia sighed, "Jericho…"

"I'd do it again if I had the chance," I finished, much to the amusement of a number of the Daedra. It might seem like I was shooting myself in the foot, but there was a method to my madness. In general, the Aedra voted together on everything. There were a few stray votes, but for the most part, they were a united front. The mortals tended to follow the Aedra, but it was easy to see a rift forming.

Simply put, Mortals wanted a lot tighter restrictions than the Aedra were comfortable with. Much less the Daedra.

So, when I spoke up, I had the entire room's attention. "I do think that a god should be restricted from retaliating after death with their Divine power, but its open season when they return to Nirn. I also believe that the gods should serve sentences similar to jail time, cut off from Nirn for breaking a few fundamental laws." I voiced, and because it was me speaking, the Daedra were paying more attention.

"Something like a millennia for trying to destroy the world, a few centuries for being defeated in a War Game. In a case like this, it could be remedied with a simple vote to bring her back or not," I continued, crossing my arms over my chest. There was some general muttering at that.

Then the process took over as the gods began bickering over the idea. Picking at what they liked, what they didn't, ramping up the consequences, scaling them down while others tried to interject their own ideas or scrap the idea entirely. The mortals would occasionally speak up, trying to push things their way, but were largely ignored by both sides. All the while, Hestia attempted to guide the meeting in a positive direction despite it constantly trying to nose dive into name-calling and insults.

All the while, I went back to what I've been doing for the past couple of days -- crossing my arms and standing silently behind Hestia, while the would-be assassin simply wilted under my unyielding stare, daring her to try something again. She wasn't removed from the room, neither was Namira's corpse. People were treating the assassination attempt lightly, distracted by the conversation.

For months, when I anticipated the Moot… I expected a mess, but this was somehow worse. Not only was it a mess, but it was also mind-numbingly boring. Hestia was just barely able to herd the cats in the generally right direction. Everyone was fighting about absolutely everything, and instead of anyone so much as thinking of the word compromise, the lines between them all became more pronounced and decisive.

Hestia slammed her hand on the table, "We can't just run around the place popping in and out of existence, Sanguine!"

"Why not? It's easier to travel that way," Sanguine pointed out, taking a long sip of wine straight from the bottle while he pushed away Sheogorath's head as the woman began to drift to sleep. She snored once before leaning the other way. "Just popping in and out of existence is pretty convenient."

"We should also discuss what impact leaving Nirn would have on the Familias. Would they disband?" Dibella spoke up, trying to follow Hestia's lead.

"Namira is still dead. We should probably bring her back to discuss this, shouldn't we?" Peryite spoke up, eyeing the corpse next to him.

"Ehh, that's what she gets for getting killed and losing me money. I bet fifty that it would be Mephala that tried to kill someone… I was right about Hestia being the target though… does that still count?"

"No, it doesn't." A few Daedra answered in unison.

"Stop talking about trying to assassinate me and focus!" Hestia huffed, thoroughly annoyed. "We're discussing what happens if we die-"

I took out my sword, catching some attention before I lobbed it at Clavicus Vile. The Ebony sword punched through his chest, pinning him to his chair. He looked down at it in wonderment for a moment before his eyes looked up to me. His lips pulled back into a smile, blood dripping from his mouth as it covered his teeth… before his head dropped limply in death.

"Jericho, stop killing gods!" Hestia rounded on me, and I just crossed my arms.

"I," I began, "am tired of this going in circles. Come to a consensus, or I'm going to kill a god every ten minutes."

For five months… I had prepared for this meeting. Prepared for the clash against Alduin. All in the vain hope that the Moot would be where everyone would unite against the common foe.

None of that was happening. For three days, absolutely nothing had been accomplished. No rules had been agreed upon. The only thing that was accomplished was the creation of the voting system that had yet to be put into use. And…

I was disappointed. I shouldn't be. I expected exactly this, but it was very disheartening to see it play out before my eyes. The… everything. The lack of direction, the pettiness, the pointless arguments, no one taking it seriously…

So… I would give them a reason to take it seriously.

"You can't do that!" Meridia decided, echoed by some grumbling.

"There are about three people in this room I'm pretty sure I can't kill, and I'm not sure about one of them. The rest of you are fair game," I argued back.

Sanguine laughed, "He has a point!"

"No, he doesn't," Hestia argued. "We aren't using violence to enforce a consensus."

"Yes, we are," I decided. "It's lightning round time. We've wasted three days on nothing. That time might not mean anything to the gods… but it does to me. To mortals. And half of this room knows why, but they're still twisting their thumbs and I'm done waiting for this to be taken seriously." I spoke, looking to Hestia…

And I think this was our first true disagreement. She didn't look angry, just disappointed. Which was a thousand times worse.

Emperor Titus looked to me, "And what does half of the room not know?" He questioned in a heavy tone.

I met his gaze, "Alduin the World-Eater was never slain. Thousands of years ago, he was tossed into the time stream to be the future's problem. Our problem. He's going to reappear at the Throat of the World in about two months." I answered, and you could clearly see who had known and those that hadn't. About half of the room visibly recoiled, including the Thalmor. Balgruuf's expression was stony while the King openly gaped at me.

"For about half a year, I've been gathering allies and preparing to kill him when he reemerges. And, for about half a year, I've been met with obstacle after obstacle, cleaning up messes and being stonewalled by those in a position to do something, but are dragging their feet every step of the fucking way or refusing to help at all." Kyne sighed, knowing I was talking about her and the Graybeards, but it wasn't just her.

"I'm done waiting for everyone to get their shit together to save the world and the lives of everyone in it -- so here's an ultimatum. Come to an agreement or I'm going to die trying to kill everyone in this room." I meant it. I meant every word. I was so sick of waiting for that magical moment you saw in the movies where people put their grievances aside to work towards a common goal. I knew it was just the movies being movies, but that's what we needed.

Everyone was remotely horrified by the blatant threat. Everyone but Sheogorath, "There it is! Finally, something is happening! I'm on Jericho's side! When he starts swinging, I'm going to start blasting!" Sheogorath informed with a demented giggle, offering me a thumbs up.

With Sheogorath in my corner, I liked my odds. She could get the Nerevarine while I could take the Ebony Warrior. Looking to my left, I locked gazes with the Ebony Warrior, seeing his dark eyes in the slit of his visor. He was meant to be one of the end game challenges in Skyrim, but I was also stronger than I had once been. It might not be easy, but I had a chance.

Emperor Titus drew attention to himself by raising a hand ever so slightly. "In light of this new information… I believe it would be best if we act with haste." He voiced, looking undisturbed by the threat of Alduin, or my blatant threat that I was going to start swinging and people were going to die if they didn't get a move on.

"It's not fair that two of the Daedra got killed! Jericho should kill two of each party to make things fair before we continue," a Daedra spoke up.

"Let's just vote before more of us get killed," Nocturnal offered.

And so began the cycle again, only this time things moved more swiftly with a threat looming over people's heads. I caught more than a few looks thrown in my direction, but most seemed more concerned with Sheogorath. After all, just about everyone here had been kidnapped by the Prince of Madness and they knew first hand that she was one of the two people I knew I couldn't beat.

It was a lightning round, the gods unable to debate an idea to death. A few tossed out ideas or changes that were either quickly incorporated into the restriction, or quickly dismissed.

"Raise your hand if you are in favor of a thousand-year plenty for attempting to destroy the world, a five hundred year penalty for being defeated in a War Game, and a decade for an unfortunate death with the possibility of a unanimous vote to resurrect the god?" Hestia questioned, raising her hand while the Aedra and mortals did as well. A few didn't because they wanted stricter positions, one being Ulfric which convinced the Stormcloaks to not vote in favor as well. Something he had in common with the Emperor, who also didn't raise his hand.

However, the motion passed when Nocturnal and Azura raised their hands in favor.

"Motion passed," Hestia sighed, her shoulders drooping, but I knew her well enough to see that it wasn't out of relief. "Next order of business -- the Aedra and Daedra being forbidden to punish their killers from their realm of Oblivion until penalty time is up."

And the voting began again. Unsurprisingly, the vast majority didn't care for the idea, but all of the mortals voting in favor of it managed to sway the vote a bit. Dibella was voting in favor of whatever Hestia was, Stendarr was against the idea, while Talos was also for it. As was Sheogorath.

There were just moderate changes made to the restriction for it to be forced through. The murderer of a god would be held at trial by the gods to determine if the death was justified or not.

"Ahem," Sanguine began, slamming his wine glass into the table as if it were a gavel. "So begins the trial of Jericho, Captain of the Hestia familia and Thane of Skyrim, for the murder of Clavicus Vile and Namira. Do we have any witnesses that wish to step forward?"

I just stared at him balefully for a moment, thoroughly annoyed. I was out of patience and more time was being wasted on this?

"I saw the defendant throw his sword into Clavicus Vile!" Boethiah offered, a laugh in her voice. "I would like to offer the display on my left as evidence," she said, gesturing to the still impaled corpse on her left.

"It was murder in cold blood," Mephala added with a nod.

"Eh, Vile had it coming. Not guilty!" Vaermina decided, despite overwhelming evidence.

"The murder of Namira was justified. Jericho defended his god and lover from unjustified murder. His deeds were justified. The death of Vile, however, was simply murder." Stendarr decided and I decided that I liked him a lot less now.

"My patience for this has reached the end. I'm thankful for Jericho moving things along, so not guilty." Meridia spoke up, offering a nod in my direction.

"Not guilty," Azura offered, sending me a look that told me that I would have to give her something for that.

"Not guilty," Nocturnal added, taking a sip of her wine. "Both murders were necessary. We've made more progress in the past twenty minutes than we have in three days."

"Good point. My butt is really getting sore from all of this sitting. I'm changing my vote to not guilty." Boethiah decided, pleased with herself.

"They both deserved it. Not guilty," Malacath decided, offering me an approving nod.

With the wave of not guilty verdicts, the momentum swung in my direction. There were a few hold outs like Stendarr and Sanguine who insisted that it was murder, each with a very different motive to see me punished, but they were overruled.

"Jericho, Captain of the Hestia familia, Thane of Skyrim -- I pronounce you not guilty of the murders of Vile and Namira even though we all literally watched you do it and threaten us all with the same. Speaking of which, are we going to have a trial every time he kills someone, or can we just backload them all to the end?" Sanguine decreed, turning the question to everyone in the room.

There were a few shrugs all-around before there was a loud bang. We all looked to Ulfric Stormcloak, a thunderous expression on his face as he slammed both fists into the table. "This is a farce," he decided, dark anger in his words as he looked across the room.

Sanguine looked bemused, "Do you disagree with the verdict?" He questioned, and Ulfric stood up.

"I don't," Ulfric decided, looking at the Daedra rather than me. "He does not deserve to be punished for defending his god or attacking any of you. What I speak of is this farce of a trial and meeting," he snarled at all the gods. "You dare call this justice? All evidence ignored in favor of whimsical feelings and petty amusement?"

"I thought you didn't disagree with the verdict?" Nocturnal spoke up, tilting her head at Ulfric, finding a way to look down at him despite being seated.

He glared at her, "You Daedra have given nothing to this world. From what I have seen of you all, none of you are fit to be in charge of anything. Much less a Hold," Ulfric snapped, looking to Azura. "You will destroy the world with your pettiness and stupidity. I won't stomach it any longer."

I was agreeing with Ulfric Stormcloak. That should probably be a warning sign, but I found myself nodding in agreement. I was almost happy to see that I wasn't the only one completely fed up with the entire situation. I revealed that Alduin was here to destroy the world and not ten minutes later, it was back to games and having a mockery of a trial. I almost wish that I had been judged guilty because at least then it meant that this was being taken seriously.

Sanguine shrugged, "Then feel free to make a vote, Killjoy." He said, taunting him. A Jarl only had a fraction vote. Even the High King only had a half vote.

Ulfric looked absolutely murderous and the casual dismissal seemed to outrage the vast majority of the other Jarls. A resentment between the mortals and Daedra wasn't something that was new. It couldn't be when nearly every catastrophe was caused by one Daedra or another. It was a resentment that had been stewing since the beginning of time. It was just starting to boil over now that everyone was in the same room.

It was just like I predicted since the start -- the Moot was utterly fucked. I just had somehow underestimated how fucked it was.

"High King Torygg," Ulfric said, catching everyone but me off guard. I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming next. "I am truly sorry about this, but I cannot let this stand any longer."

High King Torygg realized what Ulfric was getting at. "Not sorry enough not to do it," he pointed out as he stood up from his throne.

"By right of arms, I challenge you for the throne," Ulfric spoke, his words ringing out through the hall before there was excited tittering from the gods. It undercut the dramatic proclamation, but it also proved his point. The vast majority of the gods weren't taking this seriously.

In the end, they didn't have any reason to. If this world ended… then it would simply mean that they would take their Familias with them to the new world that would be crafted afterward. While everyone else would die.

Queen Elisif openly looked worried, but the King offered a firm nod, appearing resolute. "With the gods and Emperor as witnesses, I accept your challenge, Ulfric Stormcloak." He decided, sealing his fate.

I sighed, seeing history repeat itself before my eyes. It was disappointing, I thought to myself. But also unsurprising. I had advised him to keep himself in check, but a single conversation wouldn't be enough to get through to him. Especially when I failed to follow my own advice and lashed out. I didn't really have any right to judge him for this move. Not without being a hypocrite.

But just because I agreed with him on the gods didn't mean I agreed with his entire point of view. The problems I had with the guy were still there. And I didn't want this to end in a civil war on top of the general stupidity and madness.

I opened my mouth, but High King Torygg caught me off with a look as if sensing what I was about to do. He offered a thin smile before he shook his head, making the words die in my throat.

Shit. Did he want Ulfric to become King? Enough that he was willing to die for it?

"I shall fight this duel myself," High King Torygg decided, missing a frown sent at him by the Emperor. I could see why he wasn't happy at all with the turn of events. King Torygg was refusing a champion against a guy that's main political point was secession from the empire. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elenwen smile ever so slightly, pleased with what was going on.

High King Torygg stepped into the circle that seemed to be the dueling circle. A servant passed him a wide headed battle axe -- a poor weapon in a one on one. He didn't bother with armor, as if sensing the outcome of the battle. Or he was just being a good Nord, because Ulfric wasn't wearing any armor either. Both men shrugged off their heavy cloaks while Ulfric wielded a simple sword. A nordic longsword made of steel -- no decoration or finish, just a rough piece of metal affixed to a simple leather handle.

The two men stared each other down, ignoring the gods that not so silently started making bets. The king and the challenger to the throne seemed content to let them finish before either so much as took another step forward. It was only when the hall was filled with a deafening silence that the duel began.

It was broken with three words.

"FUS RO DAH!" Ulfric shouted, the words rippling in the air before they raced towards the King. I saw his eyes widen ever so slightly before impact and he was hit with the Unrelenting Force. His body was torn apart on impact, some parts reduced to a fine red mist as the force tore through him. The Unrelenting Force continued past him, destroying the King's throne before destroying the wall behind it, only just narrowly avoiding the Emperor.

The words passed by in a clap of thunder, leaving my ears ringing, but I still heard Queen Elisif’s gut-wrenching scream as she looked at the remains of her husband. All that was really left of him were his legs, some bone fragments, a bloodstain, and a crown that Ulfric walked forward to take. His expression could be made of granite for all the emotion he displayed before he reached down to take the throne.

Damn.

I looked down at Hestia, who watched in naked horror of what she had just witnessed. Beyond the sobs of the former Queen, now Jarl of Solitude, I heard some clapping from the Daedra while others laughed. Reaching down, I offered a comforting hand on her shoulder, making Hestia let look up to me. Her blue eyes shone with emotion and frustration -- she was trying her best to avoid this becoming a disaster, but there was only so much that could be done.

"Does anyone dispute my accession as the High King of Skyrim?" Ulfric asked, turning to the Jarls. The Stormcloaks looked a little stunned, but held their tongue. A few Loyalist shook their heads, while Balgruuf looked furious. None of them said anything.

"Yeah," I spoke up, making everyone's attention snap to me. I gave Hestia's shoulder a gentle squeeze before I looked to Ulfric, meeting his gaze. "I do."

He didn't look surprised, I noticed. "For what cause?" He questioned before I started walking around the table, heading towards my sword that was still pinning Clavicus Vile's corpse to his chair.

"Because, one way or the other, Alduin won't be the end," I told him. "There's going to be an afterward. Other threats like the Thalmor being the Thalmor, or the gods being the gods. I've agreed with you today more than I ever thought I would, but I disagree with pretty much everything you've said leading up to today." I entered the circle, headed to the corpse of Vile before tearing my sword free of his corpse. His blood dripping from the blade. "The Empire has its problems. A shit ton of them, and you're probably right about it being led by idiots-- no offense your majesty -- but Skyrim splitting off isn't the way."

I stood across from Ulfric, meeting his eyes as I rested my blade on my shoulder. He smiled ever so slightly at that.

"Aye, I thought as much. For what it's worth, Jericho… I do think you're a good man, but one of us is wrong," Ulfric said. The Emperor stood up, likely aware of how closely he came to suffering the same fate as the former High King, and it was him moving that prompted the others to as well.

"Only time can tell who," I agreed. "I just think it's me."

"Everyone does," Ulfric returned, and I doubted that he meant that everyone thought I was right. In the end, I thought that Skyrim was worse off with him as High King. I think he meant well in his own way, but what he could give Skyrim wasn't what it needed. I don't think I could give it what it needed either, but I just couldn't let Ulfric take the crown. Even if it meant that I had to take it from him.

I nodded at Ulfric, showing that I was ready. He returned the gesture before I saw him take in a deep breath, readying to shout. In that same instant, I did the same, and I dug deep.

That image I had told Paarthumax about appeared in my mind -- of a king shouting at the waves to stop, and the ocean obeying his commands. The power of the Thu'um.

""FUS!"" We both started at the same time, each imagining a different thing. I imagined myself overcoming any obstacle. Being unstoppable, even if I just had to go through whatever was in my way.

""RO!"" We continued, and I imagined Skyrim on a tightrope without a net underneath. One small misstep was what separated success from failure.

""DAH!"" We finished as one. Push. It was easier to learn than Ro simply because I was really good at pushing myself into situations that I didn't need to. It was just another version of Force.

The air rippled as the Shouts took shape, forcing reality to submit. They raced toward one another, crossing the distance in a blur before I felt an explosion as the two impacted. Wind battered my face, and, for a brief moment, I wondered if mine had lost. There was no DBZ-esk battle of wills as the attacks collided. Two unstoppable forces had met head-on. It all came down to which one was more unstoppable.

I only had my answer when I saw Ulfric suffer the same fate that he had inflicted on Torygg. My Shout pushed past his own, slamming into the man before his body was torn to pieces, leaving only a red mist behind as my shout continued on, smashing through the thrones behind him before taking out the wall.

Parts of the wall fell from the ground, and wooden splinters from the trees, but in a moment it had all settled down.

Congratulations! You have earned the title: High King of Skyrim!

What a pain in the ass.