Roerich wrote: Note: Original text found here. I altered it a bit to fit better, and omitted any 4th era and Synod references. We could have it as an expensive tome kept by necromancers, evil wizards and powerful mages. It could teach Conjuration, but not necessarily.
Origin of the Sload
by Flavius Lupus
Those of you who have studied the plagues that have stricken our great Empire, such as the Knahaten Flu, will probably be familiar with the Thrassian Plague, the devastating disease that led to the eventual destruction of the Coral Kingdom of Thras, home of the Sload, by the All Flags Navy. I was granted special audience with a member of the Psijic Order recently who told me the story of the Sload creation myth, the "K'Grua" as they call it. It takes places during the Ehlnofex Wars, before the Men and Mer as we know them today came to be. It goes like this:
During a battle between the Ehlnofex armies, the Champion Trinimac paused from his rampage as he felt a strange and powerful magic being woven throughout his forces. He looked over the battlefield, and his eyes fell upon a Necromancer, N'Gyre, as he called himself, and he watched briefly as N'Gyre began to raise up the broken bodies of his comrades.
At this “most foul of injustices”, Trinimac flew into a rage, approaching the Necromancer saying, "Look at this, what atrocities you have committed! All this evil done with impunity, and a clear conscience on your part! You should bear the shame of a thousand betraying soldiers, for you fight not only through the use of others' power, but with the power of your own comrades!"
Hearing the rebuke, N'Gyre said, offended, "Trinimac, you may be the Champion God of Lord Auri-El, but when you have passed your usefulness and begin to wither, there shall I stand, ready to rekindle the flame of your passion, but with my own choice fuel, that I may be your mind and body's master, and you will serve me on bended knee." Trinimac, growing ever more angered, pleaded with Auri-El for the permission to slay N'Gyre, but it was not yet allowed. Trinimac first attempted to slay the Necromancer with brute force, charging from behind him and, with a great swing of his blade, chopping through N’Gyre’s body. The body exploded into ash, and behind Trinimac stood N’Gyre, grinning with content. With the most sly of looks coming over his face, N’Gyre said, “Oh, Trinimac, you hypocrite.” Growing more angry than clever now, N’Gyre continued, “What was that you said about me being a traitor? You should listen to your master before you act too rashly.” Trinimac bellowed, “How dare you, you worm! I will take pleasure in burying by blade in your corpse!”
Yet again, Trinimac went and plead with his master, Auri-El, but again was not given permission to kill N’Gyre. He tried his same tactic again, but with some underlying cunning, having a powerful mage cast a decoy spell similar to N’Gyre’s while Trinimac crept up behind the Necromancer. But N’Gyre, wise in the ways of life magics, disregarded the intangible decoy and evaded Trinimac’s attack yet again. Clearly upset by this repeated treachery, N’Gyre turned and approached Trinimac, saying, “You, Trinimac are a fool. You misunderstand the beauty of my work, the way in which I venerate the bodies of my comrades by giving them the power and strength to fight again. You call it foul and wretched, but yet you sneak up on me and try to trick me, so that you can betray me, your comrade? What honor or pride is in that?”
Trinimac, outraged at the way in which N’Gyre tried to justify himself and his actions, yet again pleaded with Auri-El, saying, “Master, he has corrupted the souls and bodies of our most brave forces, yet he claims to be venerating them, restoring them, and he insults me, as well!” Auri-El, looking on Trinimac annoyedly, said, “Trinimac, my Strong-Arm, do as you see fit to the necromancer N’Gyre, if only so that your pestering will be ceased. Truly, he is powerful, and he serves our forces well, but you are surely not the only one who thinks likewise of his actions. It pains me that we will lose such a powerful mage, but it must be so.” At his word, Trinimac went, with his blade held firmly, to bring the cold grip of death to the necromancer at last.
Swift and clever as N’Gyre was, Trinimac, this time, had outwitted him. Trinimac had all of his anger and ferocity in his attack, and his brute strength finally took the mage by surprise. Trinimac, with a final, powerful swing of his blade, brought what he called “justice” to N’Gyre, and cut him into pieces, which he proceeded to cast into the Western Sea. The Necromancer’s undead warriors dissolved into ash, and a strange purple emission rose up from each of the ash piles, spiraling into the air until finally descending into the ocean, seeking to return home. Trinimac, satisfied with his revenge, withdrew from the place, going to prepare for another battle.
After Trinimac had departed, the foam from the sea and the sludge from N'Gyre's corpse mingled, and from this coagulation of mixtures, a proud, clever race was born, the Sload. The pieces of N'Gyre that were too small to sink became the islands of the Coral Kingdom of Thras, and the energy of N'Gyre and his final spell lingered on, infusing necromantic power in each of us from birth.
They worship only N'Gyre, but are known to make pacts and deals with Daedra Princes and other supernatural beings, like Namira, Mistress of the Grotesque, Peryite, the Father of Disease, and the K’Gar Nam’k, the Masters of Souls, always with the intent of furthering their own potential as a means to an end, an end which is a well kept secret among them and their leaders. I do not know of this secret, but perhaps another does.
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