Story Idea: 'Tower Defense' (Patreon)

AN: This story actually had a lot of thought put into it. The concept is based around the idea of a mage building a tower and being insanely paranoid about making it defensible as he travels dimensions and gets constantly attacked by various things.

Setting: OC from Skyrim, a Conjuration Adept and Enchanter mage. NO meta-knowledge at all. Ends up in a world (I won't spoil), where he is attracting never ending monsters like mad and decides building his own impregnatable tower is the best way to go to survive. He ends up re-creating the accident that sent him off world and find himself, and his tower, getting into more and more insane situations. The first 5 worlds have been chosen in an appropriate order.

Pairing: Unsure yet. I have some idea's, but I can't share them without spoiling the first few worlds.

STORY START

Chapter 1.

The arctic winds howled as they smashed upon the impenetrable wards of the College of Winterhold. The sound akin to cannonballs smashing upon ramparts being muted to the dull roar of a winter storm outside it’s walls.

What little was allowed through the wards was the snow. Snow that piled up on the wide rooftop pathways creating an idyllic atmosphere.

Or it would have been if not for the explosion that destroyed a portion of the rooftop and the bubble of a spell keeping the snow at bay from filling the destroyed space back in.

And within that bubble, three men stood with varying expression.

J’zargo, a wide eyed Khajit Destruction and Restoration apprentice was looking shell shocked and slightly ill.

Phinis Gestor, the college’s balding Conjuration professor was looking half infuriated and half worried at something that was and wasn’t there.

And Savos Aren, the Dunmer Archmage of the College and a fellow Conjuration master of far greater skill was looking calm and alert, with only the tightening around his eyes showing a mix of seriousness and professional curiosity.

Before them lay a crater in the rooftop with still visible pieces of a ritual circle, scattered remains of ingredients, and shattered soul stones.

The balding professor turned his stern gaze on the student. “Explain it again, J’zargo. Leave anything out and I’ll see you expelled for this.”

J’zargo paled further on the threat. “It was not meant to go this way. J’zargo did not know such a thing would come about.”

“Of course you didn’t! You fools attempted a master level conjuration ritual before you were ready!” Phinis was practically spitting as his deeply controlled temper reared its head. “And you’re a not even a Conjuration mage, did you forget one of the first lessons we even teach at this institute?! You don’t cross branches without being experienced enough! You’re presence may have been the reason this happened!”

The twenty year old Khajit backed up in the face of that anger as a look of shame crossed his feline features. “Damian assured J’zargo he knew what he was doing. The ritual was said to be tailored to his desires. J’zargo trusted him and was curious.”

Phinis slapped his forehead with a groan. “Of course that idiot boy did. Did my nephew learn nothing from all my lectures?”

“Now, now, let’s all relax.” The Archmage waved a hand gently. “Mistakes were made, as students often do.”

Phinis shot him an incredulous look. “Sir, this is not a mistake. This is a foolish disaster. If he wasn’t my nephew, I would have written him off as dead already.”

The Archmage chuckled softly and calmed him with a gesture. “I too wouldn’t count young Damian gone for good just yet. That young man has a way to think outside the box from convention.” He turned his red eyed gaze on the young Khajit. “However, that does lead the question of where our wayward genius got his hands on a master level conjuration ritual formula.”

At his raised brow, J’zargo drooped his shoulders. “Enthir sold it to us. Took most of J’zargo’s funds along with Damians too. Expensive.”

“I’ll kill him.” Phinis simply stated and turned to head into the college to find the Adept mage with a look of calm fury before Savos blocked his way with a ward.

“Calm yourself, Phinis.” A flick of the Archmage’s fingers sent a powerful calming spell toward the man. “Enthir is a useful resource to the college.”

The Conjuration teacher’s features relaxed back to his usual detached expression, but the anger inside him did not vanish. “That black hearted Bosmer bastard sold my nephew a faulty ritual formula. I will not let that go unpunished.”

“I did not say he will be get off free from this, but it would set a bad example if we started killing students.” The Archmage paused and tacked on another few words. “On purpose, anyway.” J’zargo choked on his spit at the side while Savos hid a conspiratory grin. “Besides, we should focus on the current situation before we delve into who was at fault.”

The Dunmer mage turned to the young Khajit while behind his back where neither of the other two could see, he flicked his fingers as certain traces of the ritual were obscured. “Now, what was Damian’s intent with the ritual? I assume he wasn’t trying to summon an unbound Dremora Lord?”

J’zargo shook his head quickly. “No, no, J’zargo has no desire to die just yet. Damian was looking for an unbound Dremora merchant.”

The master level Conjuration ritual was intended for summoning unbound Dremora. Dremora who served no Deadric prince who all had their own desires that drove them and traveled between various realms of oblivion. They were open to dealing with mortals if summoned and make contracts, but as often was the case, they would refuse to submit to those weaker than them and would harvest the soul of the summoner.

Phinis’s eyes narrowed. “By Sheor, he should know how stupid of an idea that is. What could he have possibly been looking to purchase?”

J’zargo shifted uncomfortably under the teachers gaze. “J’zargo does not know. Damian muttered something about knowledge related to sealing magic, but Damian did not tell J’zargo anything specific.”

Phinis’s face paled as he realized Damian’s intent and he turned a panicked look to the Archmage, who himself had a thoughtful expression.

“Is that so.” Savor rubbed a hand through his short beard and looked back at the remains of the ritual circle. “Well, his reasoning aside, this ritual was done in reverse, with added elements that made it highly unstable. Rather than pull his target to him, it seems Damian pulled himself toward his target, while also doing something more. I cannot say what exactly.”

The Conjuration professor didn’t see everything the Archmage did, but he understood what was implied. He quickly sent J’zargo away and turned to his superior. “That boy sent himself to Oblivion?”

“Not exactly.” Savos hummed and pulled out an elaborate staff from his robes. “The traces do not feel like any realm I am familiar with.” He poked and prodded the fragile space in the center of the ruined crater. “He breached the barrier of Mundus but went in an entirely different direction than any known realm. It’s as if instead of taking a right turn into Oblivion, he took a left out into the void.”

What he was doing was beyond Phinis’s skills, the man not able to see as deeply as the Archmage, but he couldn’t help but ask. “Can you bring him back, sir?” A trace of hope entered his eyes before they died with a shake of the Dunmer’s head.

“No. I have no idea where he went. There is no guarantee I could make it to his location even if I managed to replicate whatever it is he did.” The man noticed Phinis’s expression and chose to give the man some measure of calm. “However, the spatial channel should be stable enough to send something small through.”

Savos gathered mana into his staff and stabbed a point in space as a small tear in reality opened like an inversed summoning portal. The Archmage hummed and removed a satchel from his side and paused only long enough to remove an amulet from his neck and place it inside before he tossed the satchel through the portal.

The dark purple spatial channel collapsed on itself moments later and the connection was officially cut.

“There we go, that should help young Damian a bit.”

Phinis didn’t get the chance to comment and could only drop the hand he was in the process of raising. “Sir…I was hoping to send a message.”

Savos gave off a sheepish expression. “Ah, my apologies.”

The balding professor could only sigh and let it go. “What did you send him?”

“Just some basic potion supplies to tide him over. It’s all I had on hand, I’m afraid.”

Phinis shook his head. “No, even that is something I’m grateful for. If only my skill was higher, I might have been able to help.”

The Archmage gave him a knowing look and patted the mans shoulder. “Don’t feel too down. You dedicated your time to helping water the talents of the new generations, there is nothing to begrudge about that.”

Phinis slowly nodded. “I know. I just wish there was more I could have done. He’s all the family I have left.”

“You have done all you could dutifully teaching him this last decade, leave the rest in his capable hands.”

Phinis snorted. “Capable my ass. The only thing I can rely on that brat for is making trouble.”

“But it is always such amusing trouble our young genius gets up to.” Savos cracked a grin. “Such as that ‘Shock Therapy’ bed he enchanted. Who knew electricity could be used for relaxation?”

The balding professor twitched. “Yes, and who knew our resident Destruction professor would lay claim to it so fiercely.”

“On the bright side, Faralda has mellowed out wonderfully since then. Stress is a terrible thing, after all.”

Phinis pinched the bridge of his nose. “That boy will be the death of me.”

“Then you can simply raise your corpse and keep going.”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re an ass.”

“I know.” Savos’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, speak of the devil.”

Phinis turned where the other man was looking and saw the golden skinned Destruction professor with the same no-nonsense expression she always had on her face approaching.

“Sir, a young man who passed the Novice exam is claiming to be the Dragonborn.”

Phinis choked on his spit as Savos raised a brow. “Is that so? What branch did he sign up for?”

“Destruction.”

Phinis snorted. “Another savage. Wonderful.”

Faralda shot him a disdainful look. “Spoken as if a grave digger could understand the intricacies of Destruction magic.”

“At least my students don’t get power high and fancy themselves dragons with a few novice spells.”

“Says the man whose students often start cults.”

The two shot fierce glares at each other before the Archmage cut in between them. “Now, now, children. You’re all amazing. Faralda, is the new student settled in?”

The golden skinned high elf took a step back and nodded imperiously. “Of course, sir.” She paused then with a frown. “What of young Damian?”

“He’s gone.” Phinis stated emotionlessly, only to get his shoulder tapped by the Archmage’s staff.

“Don’t say misleading things, Phinis.” He turned to the stony face of Faralda with a grin. “The boy has gone on an adventure. I’m sure he’ll find his way home eventually.”

Faralda’s face gave nothing away, but her eyes spoke volumes of her worry. “Sergius won’t be happy to hear that his prized student vanished.”

Phinis scowled at the mention of the Enchanting professor. “Sergius is never happy.”

Even Faralda couldn’t deny that, having heard of the strict teachings of the old Imperial that drove away countless students. She rather focused on her superior. “How soon will he return?”

“Whose to say?” Savos shrugged. “A few years perhaps? You know how young mages are with their travels. Everything shiny will distract them from their path.”

Faralda grumbled something unflattering about teenagers under her breath before she cleared her throat. “Very well, it will give me time to work out his punishment for this stunt.”

Savos and Phinis equally felt a trace of pity for Damian at the frosty shine to her eyes as she spoke. It wasn’t lost on either of them that Faralda had taken on a familial, almost motherly, role to the young man since the day the young boy appeared on the college’s doorstep in tattered bloody robes with dead eyes a decade before.

Savos coughed into his hand. “Right. Well, nothing to do but wait now. I’m sure young Damian is fine wherever he is.”

00000

Somewhere else at the same time.

“BURN! BY THE NINE, BURN YOU FOUL DEMON!" A raw roar of passion exited Damian's throat as he channeled whatever magicka reserves he had left through the flames spell upon the red eyed, black bodied beast while imagining it being the grinning face of the Archmage he just knew was responsible for his current predicament.

00000

Back at the college.

Savos Aren grinned widely and far too innocently. “He has my utmost confidence.”

End.

AN: A bit on the shorter side, but it works as an prologue. I have most of the next chapter for this written.