Private Days of Prophecy (18+)

[The Phantom]

The Empire of Tamriel is on the edge. The High King of Skyrim has​

been murdered.​

Alliances form as claims to the throne are made. In the midst of this conflict, a far more dangerous, ancient evil is awakened. Dragons, long lost to the passages of the Elder Scrolls, have returned to Tamriel.​

The future of Skyrim, even the Empire itself, hangs in the balance as they wait for the prophesized Dragonborn to come; a hero born with the power of The Voice, and the only one who can stand amongst the dragons.​

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I awoke to the sound of clapping hooves across a paved road, the sound being easily recognisable from my many journeys. As I slowly adjusted to the light, I turned my head away until my vision was nigh perfect again. Slowly, I surveyed my surroundings and saw that I was in a carriage and my hands bound. "Damn" I thought "Perhaps I could use my fangs to bite the bindings off... Actually that could prove most unwise as I'm heavily outnumbered and there are archers posted everywhere." I proceeded to check my sleeve to see if my black soul gem was still there. To my luck it was and chuckled quietly to myself at how lazy the Imperials had gotten with their prisoners. My plan was to use it to cut my bindings and after me and my cousin, Greywin, had escaped from Helgen together; cast a potent soul trap spell on myself and stab the gem into Greywin just as I die. Thus transferring my consciousness and soul into Greywin (His swapping into the gem) and finally being rid of my now weak body. Until recently the Thalmor were holding me captive and torturing me for years, leaving my body weak, broken and useless. Annoyingly I was snapped out of my thoughts by the words of a Stormcloak soldier sitting across from me, stating the blatantly obvious fact that I was now awake. A man next to him dressed in beggars rags began to argue with him about how if it wasn't for the Stormcloak presence then he would not have been caught stealing the horse. I also realised I would not have been caught crossing the border if not for the Stormcloaks. I decided to see just what my situation was and surveyed the general area this time. Sitting to his right were a few more prisoners, some seemed to look like they could handle themselves and others just plain insane. What worried me however, was that a rather important man was also in the carriage. Bound and gagged, clad in noble finery was Ulfric Stormcloak himself. Only now did I fully realise the gravity of this situation. I looked to my left and saw that we were approaching Helgen, home to one of two chopping blocks in Skyrim. My fears were confirmed when I heard a sentry yell "General Tullius sir! The headsman is waiting." My eyes widened immediately as I furiously thought about how the Imperials were going to ruin my plan! I calmed myself down and began to formulate another plot. Instead I would require a lot more precision or I might end up dead permanently. The plan was that as I was being executed I would subtly cut my bindings and just as the headsman was swinging the axe I would quickly cast the soul trap and throw the gem like a knife at Greywin, who would no doubt would be attending the executions. Satisfied with the plan, I grinned to myself and thought about how I would do what no assassin had done before. I was going to cheat death! There was no more time to double check the plan as we finally arrived in Helgen. We all stepped off the carriage one by one as an Imperial Legate ordered "Go to the block when we call your names! One at a time."​

 

[EpicVakarian]

I got a shock when I awoke, my hands bound together. It was unreasonably cold, and the carriage was filled with other people. Vhosek was sat in the footwells, resting on my legs. I reached down and stroked him; or at least, the closest I could get to a stroke when I couldn't move my hands apart. Opposite me was a Nord, lightly tanned; nowhere near as much as me. His hair was blonde, shoulder-length and well-groomed, even though he had obviously been here almost as long as me. A stubble stretched across his cheeks and chin. The scar on his left bicep gleamed, with goosebumps all around it from the frigid cold. I looked straight at him, and he looked back at me with his blue eyes. I felt myself getting slightly aroused looking at him.
"What'd they get you for?" I said to the man, leaning back and looking around the rest of the carriage. It was filled with eight people. Myself, the Nord man opposite me, an Altmer with a long thin beard and greenish skin, a muscly Argonian with long horns, a thief that was moaning about stealing a horse, a Nord that was responding to him, an Imperial with a burnt face and muscular build, and a well-dressed, noble-looking Nord next to her that I recognised, but I wasn't sure where from. I remembered once the Nord man that was responding to the thief said something about the Stormcloaks, and then I realised; it was Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and the leader of the rebellion in Skyrim. I marveled at the selection of outlaws in the carriage, and then there was me; I had only been trying to get into Skyrim to look for a husband. And I was going to be executed because of it.
I looked back at the man opposite me. "Its a strange bunch of people in here, with us, isn't there?"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Helgen, a merry village with a populace disturbed enough to enjoy watching men lose their heads for the minimal crime. In a tight cell, on some dirty robes the imperials didn't even bother to wash for the next prisoner to wear them, Sentines squirmed in the unpleasant situation of being forced to look into death's eyes. Those who arrested him even gave him an explosive and a match to use, ironically inside that small cubicle of a cell. "I never thought my own safety would be the reason I wouldn't blow something up..." He remembered clearly how it had happened: Reeve wanted to check Orphan Rock's dark rituals and take his notes and wished to make a quick stop in Helgen for supplies. Word of his "heavy weaponry" was quickly spread across the territory, and no one was allowed to sell any sort of explosive enchantment, ingredient or weapon to him. That was unless he persuaded them through an endless bugging nuisance until they resigned and finally sold him powder, glow dust and dragon tongues as he pleased. It wouldn't be just by accident they would call him Eksplosiver. But who would have guessed the Stormcloaks caught in an ambush would be executed there, and so the security would be so tight? Two men, toughened in the ordinary imperial armor, immediatly entered the shop and tried to send him to a fairly large cell. Larger than his, at least. But no... He had to fight back and ignite one of the guards. Luckily he made it out alive after flinging himself inside a well. Reeve tried to use diplomacy to stop any more bloodshed, as well as avoiding any more unfriendly noises bursting through his ears. But the imperials seemed to be as tolerant as their nemesis to their enemies. One of the guards immediatly decapitated Reeve and kicked his head away. And what could Eksplosiver do but chuckle when his headless body ran out of the village after its rolling bloody severed head. Needless it was to say the guards didn't find immoratality an issue that funny, and immediatly pinned up an accusation of dark arts on Sentines as well, which eventually ended up in his execution, which would be that day.
Yes... There he was, alone, sad, about to die with a bunch of Skyrim for the Nords alcoholics. The only friend he had ever managed to make in his short life was somewhere in the province, doomed to a painful immortality, and Eksplosiver was powerless. A bulky man, wearing a brutal armor and a hood which revealed his identity as the cruel executioner that would end dozens of lives that day, opened the door. As his eyes were quickly forced to get used to the light, the man opened his cuffs that were chained to the wall and tied his hands with a tender rope, instead. After tightening it until his wrists' color changed to a bloodless purple, Uacuatur was pushed by the soul-less head chopping redguard to a line of prisoners. They said among other less pleasant and more obscene whispers about the imperials, that Ulfric Stormcloak was there to be executed as well. Sentines had never met the man nor even seen a bust or drawing of him, to the point of having him strolling before his eyes and still failing to recognize the leader of the rebellion.
Those were the moments in the life of every man when they wish they had been more devoted to religion. Unless of course, they had actually been devoted. If so, then they should have nothing to fear. Eksplosiver had a lot in his mind to fear. Not the mere fact of dying, but the tremendous chance of not being able of continuing doing what he pleased in life. The possibility of the impossibility of doing what he liked for an eternity would frighten the best of warriors, if they were deep enough to think of it. Eksplosiver sighed, grabbed the grenade he had left with his hogtied hands and clutched it as he inspected the block, where he would, most likely, spend his last seconds.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"What'd they get you for?"

Thor turned to see an attractive Breton sitting across the cart eyeing him, ruddy brown hair tied back and tan skin loosely clothed in prisoner's garb like himself; the Imperials had confiscated almost everyone's gear and carted it into the keep up ahead, excepting Jarl Ulfric and those who had been captured who were in his militia. "I came across some Stormcloaks and Imperials in battle, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak himself among them." The Nord glanced over at the Jarl, bound and gagged, then turned back to continue. "I've never had much love for the Empire, and I figured that letting the only alternative die would not be good; the first time I break neutrality in my life, I end up here, headed for the block." He chuckled and shook his head. "How about you?"


Helgen came into view; the quaint little settlement buzzing with excitement at the prospect of more exectutions - and surely the people knew that Jarl Ulfric was among the vagabonds set to die. "Strange bunch of people in here, with us, isn't there?" The young Breton woman remarked. Thor surveyed his fellow prisoners; a muscular but battered Argonian, an old Altmer, a Breton man, a Stormcloak, and of course the Jarl. "Yes. I wonder where the Empire finds all these people," Thor remarked. Inside, he was kicking himself, reiterating what he had said to the Breton: The first time I break neutrality in my life, and I end up here, headed for the block. It truly was unbelievable. And what rotten luck, to end up on the way to his death, hardly having been away from his home in the Rift for more than a couple months. If I survive this somehow, by Akatosh's might, I know this: I'd better keep away from the Stormcloaks! They must be bad luck!


The carriage was rolling into town when the Stormcloak trooper remarked, "Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Governor." The burly Nord spat over the side of the cart. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this." Thor tried to brush his bare arms against his ratty tunic for warmth amidst the chilly afternoon breeze that rolled off the snow-dusted mountains on either side of Helgen. He reconsidered what he had thought about the Stormcloaks, considering that it was the Imperials who were truly responsible for his predicament. Bad luck or not, it's a good idea to stay away from the Empire.

Not wanting to go to his death with strangers, Thor asked the Breton woman, "So, what's your name?"

 

[EpicVakarian]

"I was trying to cross from Morrowind to Eastmarch, but I was captured almost immediately. No clue why; I've never heard of it being illegal to cross borders." I tried to keep my voice calm as I spoke to him; the injustice was absurd. "Elyvyra Coppersmith, at your service. But call me Elly. For however long we have left. I'd shake your hand, but, well. You know." I had no idea why, but I had some inborn trust in this Nord. Something told me that if we hadn't been being executed, we could have been good friends. Or more. "And who are you?"

 

[Osiris]

How Azziroth had ever gotten himself into such a predicament was beyond him, the Altmer was just trying to escape persecution from the Imperials in Cyrodiil, who without a doubt wanted his head on a pike for all of the Imperial City to see. Loaded onto a cart, the Mercenary found himself captured along with several unusual characters: A sinister looking Argonian, A Nordic man and Breton Woman, a Stormcloak Rebel, a Horse Thief, A scarred Imperial, and a Noble with his mouth bound. "Huh, I assume he must have quite a fowl tongue if they have to gag him.." the High Elf thought, looking around at his surroundings and finding trees and fog all around him. The rest of the trip was eerily silent, apart from some bickering from the Rebel and Horse Thief. "hmph, I escape death in Cyrodiil only for it to find me in Skyrim..." Azziroth thought, seeing the irony, but being in too fowl a mood to enjoy it.

Soon the group arrived in Helgen, some small Nordic Village that seemed to be a base for the Empire, and saw someone who he thought he would never lay eyes on again. "Elenwen..." he uttered in surprise as he locked his piercing yellow eyes with her from the cart, her face was one of surprise and horror as she saw her fellow Altmer and occasional lover on his way to the Chopping block. Knowing even this was out of her Thalmor Hands, the Altmer gazed upon Azziroth with sorrow and fear in her slanted eyes, and Azziroth simply gave the woman a wink and a confident smirk, mouthing the words, "This isn't the end, I'll see you soon..." A rebel started bad mouthing the Thalmor and Elves in general, prompting Azziroth to give his two cents, "Keep your mouth shut Nord, your capture is out of your own arrogance and stupidity..." he said glaring, making the man look down. The Carts stopped and one by one the Prisoners unloaded and stood in line, waiting to be called up for the chopping block. When Azziroth's turn came, a brown haired Nord asked him, "Who...are you?" Standing tall, the Altmer replied, "Azziroth...Azziroth of Cloudrest..." Writing something down on his list, the Nord looked back up at him, "You're not with the Thalmor Embassy, are you High Elf?" turning to his superior and trying to convince her that the Elf wasn't on the list. After losing that debate, the Nord looked at Azziroth sympathetically, "I'm sorry, we'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isles.." Looking down, Azziroth joined his fellow prisoners, "So this how the mighty Azziroth meets his end, food for the chopping block with a bunch of pitiful rebels..." he thought, his facial expression turning to anger. Only a miracle would save him now...

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"I was trying to cross from Morrowind to Eastmarch, but I was captured almost immediately. No clue why; I've never heard of it being illegal to cross borders."

Thor felt sympathetic to the Breton, she hadn't even tried to get involved, and still, there she was! "Well, there is a war on..."

The Altmer in the cart snapped at the Stormcloak, "Keep your mouth shut Nord, your capture is out of your own arrogance and stupidity..." Thor scowled. I wonder what got you caught, then...

The Breton woman served as a nice distraction from the disagreeable elf. "Elyvyra Coppersmith, at your service. But call me Elly. For however long we have left. I'd shake your hand, but, well. You know. And who are you?"

"Thor Hariksen. It's a pleasure - any kind of friendliness before we meet that headsman's axe is nice." Before they knew it, the cart had pulled to a stop near Helgen's wall. Elyvyra, the Nord thought, It's a pretty name. Almost as pretty as the rest of her. Too bad we haven't much more time to talk. As they were ordered out of the transport and lined up, Thor felt surprisingly at peace, even as the moment of truth drew closer. An Imperial was taking a record of who was to be killed, and he soon came to the Nord. "Thor, of Shor's Stone."

 

[EpicVakarian]

I smiled at Thor. We seemed to be the only two people in the carriage trying to enjoy our last moments. But before long, the carriage stopped. I could already see the block, with the basket poised below it, ready to catch its dinner. An Imperial soldier was stood at the head of the line with an officer, listing the prisoners' names. It came to Thor's turn, and he said,
"Thor, of Shor's Stone."
So that's where he's from, I thought. I had never seen Shor's Stone, nor heard it described; I had only read about it in my father's books. It came to my turn.
"Elyvyra of Dragonstar." The soldier showed some shock at this; here was a Breton, quite clearly a Breton woman, yet born and raised in central Hammerfell. I can't say I blamed him; I would have thought the same thing. Yet again, the soldier murmured something to the officer about 'not being on the list'. The officer said that it didn't matter; she would be killed anyway. I felt like screaming at her, I'm right here! But I refrained. I simply walked over to Thor and smiled at him sadly. The only distraction was the horse thief attempting to escape; he ran straight out of Helgen. At least, halfway out of Helgen, before one of the archers shot him through the throat. I pitied him. He could have had a simple, relatively honourable death. But instead, he had elected for a coward's death.
"Good try," I murmured to Thor sarcastically.

 

[The Phantom]

Malitiasicarius II watched as the other prisoners names were called one by one, the horse thief, Lokir attempted to escape but was promptly shot through the neck by a talented archer. He nodded, almost in approval at both the shot and killing of the coward. As they read out the list it appeared he was last, although it also appeared that a handful of prisoners were not on the list. The Imperial Officer asked "Who are you?" The Argonian rolled his eyes as he realised he was also not on the list and spitefully replied "I am Malitiasicarius Praeco II, worm! Now as a note to the whole Empire, you should probably make sure you know who you're executing first! Now..." His lips turned into a twisted smile, anyone with any intellect could have figured out he was planning something "... Lets get this over with!" The Officer, now used to this simply turned to the Legate and said "To the block?" She nodded, much to Malitiasicarius' pleasure. In an attempt to lighten the mood the Officer promised to send their remains back to their respective homes. Malitiasicarius now walked over to the line with all the other prisoners as a Priestess gave everyone their last rites and Tullius declared they would now restore peace
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you! And the souls and..." She was however interrupted by a Stormcloak who defiantly cried "For the love of Talod, shut up! And let's get this over with!" Malitiasicarius couldn't help but respect him, he taunted the Imperials even in the face of his imminent death. On the other hand he just sped up his execution which is not normally an intelligent thing to do. Using this opportunity to plan out his death, he did indeed see Greywin standing a few meters away from the block, arms folded in a disapproving manner. Greywin was Malitiasicarius II's cousin and was notably magicka sensitive. He was capable of very complex and powerful spells, something Malitiasicarius' current body was incapable of doing. He was also trained to physical perfection in case he needed to properly fight. Malitiasicarius' grin widened as he thought how he could now employ magic and his current fighting skill and experience. In a few seconds the axe was brought down through the Stormcloak's neck as his decapitated head rolled into the waiting basket. The insolent Legate then called "Next, the Lizard!" Suddenly a roar was heard and everyone began to look around. Malitiasicarius used this opputunity to outstretched his arm so his gem would fall from his sleeve, caught it and then cut the bindings. He made sure to keep his hands in the bound position so as to not be noticed. Again, the Legate called him forward and this time he proceeded over to the block. Placing a foot on his back, the Legate pushed Malitiasicarius into position. The Argonian inhaled one last breath as the Headsman swung the axe. As it was being brought down he quickly cast soul trap on himself and tree his black soul gem like a knife at his cousin. He had timed it perfectly, the moment the gem embedded in Greywin's chest was the same moment his body was decapitated.

For a moment he couldn't feel anything as he looked around a strange, crystalline world and then there was a sharp pain as he felt himself stagger backwards. He was now back in Tamriel, much to his delight and looked down to see that the gem was embedded in his chest. A Guard ran over to his new body to see if "Greywin" was okay but he signalled the guard to stay. He realised that everyone was staring at him and he attempted to make himself look natural, so he pulled the gem out of his chest and it proved to be excruciatingly painful. After it was out he put the bloodied black soul gem in his fine clothes pocket, covered the wound with one hand and then tried to make use of his new bodies magical abilities. He found that magic was now completely natural to him and cast a healing spell that slowly but pleasantly healed the wound. Malitiasicarius II, now had full possession over a new and superior body and was feeling very pleased with himself "I'm okay everyone, don't worry! Just carry on with the executions." When suddenly a strange, black, scaly and large creature landed on the watchtower. Immediately he thought it was a dragon, it confirmed this for him when it released a ground shaking roar that somehow caused the skies to shift and meteors to fall, then to incinerate the executioner in a blast of fire. Malitiasicarius' only thoughts were "Alright then... Lets see if I can cheat death a third time!"

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Before Eksplosiver could predict who would be the next victim of the injust massacre, an argonian threw some sort of dark knife in such a precise move he managed to get an object as dull as that through the chest of one of the soldiers. Why would he do that? Was it simply to take out one before departing or a more personal matter? It didn't take many seconds after the lizard was dead for a demonic being to land on a tower and wreck havoc around Helgen. "What a beautiful, chaotic beast... What is it doing here? I wonder if..." Those within the walls seemed to call it a dragon, as they fired aimlessly arrows against its scales, which deflected each shot as if mocking the Legion. Eksplosiver ran behind a house that had already been turned to burnt wood and ashes thanks to a meteor shower that appeared to be summoned by the beast as well and tried to bite his bindings off, with no success.

The dragon was proving to enjoy flying around the heavily defended village, tormenting humans with fiery breathing a bone rendering teeth. Like a vulture, except for the fact of killing instead of exploiting the killed. Too bad that if he paid too much attention to it, Sentines would die in where he stood. Glancing around, focused on escaping once again, the imperial took a deep breath before laying his wrists on a broken, ignited wooden pillar. With a slow, increasing roasting pain, the bindings were consumed by the fire quickly, leaving nothing but two small scars that surrounded his flesh in the wrists. Sentines didn't take more than ten seconds to go back to the tower where he had been caged in before his execution was so shamefully interrupetd. Inside, after getting used to the lack of brightness, the chest with his valuables was still intact, but unfortunately, too intact. A monstruous iron lock was adorning the container's opening door, gathering rust at every second, just to make things harder. He had never been much of a lockpicker. But he did have the explosive the imperials had given him to make fun of his small cage. Big mistake. Eksplosiver's eyes widened somewhat maniacly while he scrapped his only match in his roughspuns. The flame was lit afterwards, in the seductive dance that usually forced him to gaze into the fire for a few seconds, even during battle, and then the explosive's fuse would be hovering above it until the fire caught it as well. While sparks came out of the burning fuse with an extremelly alluring hissing as well, Eksplosiver smilled as he threw the small bomb against the chest. "Ahh... I missed that sound!" The explosion echoed through the whole keep as the lock, and part of the chest, was vaporized. His armor had endured worse explosions than that one, as well as his fireproof satchel. Sentines failed to hide a smirk as he put on the whole Steel Plate set and put the satchel on his waist once again. His metallic steps echoed in the deserted spiral stairs as that dragon roared outside, still entertained by how the archers actually thought they could beat him.

There he was, at one of the top floors of his tower, with no more than one direction to go to. Well, unless he jumped out of the window. A massive iron door prevented him to go higher in that tower through the stairs its tiny window revealed. The door had to go down so he could land on the dragon and then... Fate would choose. He buried his hand in the countless explosives kept in his satchel and smilled looking at three stuffed bulbs. Fire salts and glow dust, as well as powder, if his memory didn't fail him. Putting them through the window on the other side of the door, he then dropped a few small tubes and stretched their tied fuse to the furthest spot he could reach: the window of the tower, through which anyone could see the tormented men, women and children kissing goodbye to their homes and lives. With a snap of his fingers the priming was ardent and sparkling too, as the light slowly reached the pile of dangerous substances barrelled on the other side of the door. Leaning on the window, unsure of his life, or anything else, Eksplosiver yelled at imperials, stormcloaks, prisoners, and the dragon. "Kaboom!" Precisely two seconds later, the impact would be heard in Helgen by any human, as well as any dog in Falkreath. The tower would be purging flames out of its two highest windows as well. Beautiful. The only sorrowful part in that experiment was that Eksplosiver had the misfortune of being inside the building to tear down. The door was pushed by such force against him that it broke through the keep's wall and flung him as well across the sky, making him land quite far from the fort. Sentines slowly closed his eyes as his grapple on the dented iron door continued to get tighter. Soon he would be landing somewhere in the wilderness, Helgen still visible, surfing between rocks and trees towards a river. Unfortunately, a rock in the path of his board stood too tall and made him lose all of the little control that was given to him. After an insane stunt, he landed on the water, exhausted, floating on the door, headed to Akatosh-knew-where.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

After one of the captured Stormcloaks went to the block, the Argonian who had been in the cart was next. He seemed smug even to his death, like he knew something everyone else didn't. When the axe fell, he threw some kind of gem and cast some kind of spell, but the magic dissipated as soon as it was there. The gem hit an Imperial in the surrounding crowd, who tried to push away any prying; Thor eyed the victim with suspicion. Before another prisoner could meet his death, a roar echoed through the town, and was followed by a massive black creature, that almost looked like... No...

Meteors began to fall from the swirling clouds above, and Thor decided that it didn't matter what the thing was. He went to push Elly along with him in a mad dash from their distracted captors, but his bound hands meant he just smacked her on the rear and pulled her along with him. Under other circumstances, he might have blushed, but now he just ran, tearing through the execution area and behind a small house, down a small trail between the house and town wall that let out in the courtyard of the keep. That looks like the safest place to be right now, he thought, before leading to one of the entrances; rearing back, he managed to bash the lock and get the door open. The duo found themselves in a dimly lit barracks, with a corner populated by a few chests and a small table. On the table there sat a note and a dagger, so Thor turned around and fumbled with the dagger behind his back to cut his binds; when he was free, he did the same for Elly and then turned his attention to the note. It said:

Prisoner Belongings -
Chest 1: Nord male
Chest 2: Breton female
Chest 3: Nord Male

Thor figured that his things must have been in one of the two 'Nord male' chests. "Hey, your things should be in the middle chest," he said to the Breton before he set to checking the chests. In the first, there was only a worn pair of clothes, and he assumed these belonged to the horse thief he had watched die. The third chest, however, held his things: his bow, Coward's Bane, and a quiver filled with arrows, as well as his blade Goldfang. Beneath these was his satchel of potions and what coin he had, and at the bottom were his robes and the numerous fortified leather armoring additions he had forged himself.

 

[Osiris]

A cocky Rebel was the first to go, after that, it was the Argonian that met with the Headsman's axe. Before anybody could react, a massive black colored demon soared from the mountains and perched itself on top of a tower. Azziroth stared, startled but also in awe of such a powerful sight. Fire rained from the sky, and everyone was in dismay, defending the citizens or fleeing for their lives. "I guess that Miracle is now..." Azziroth muttered, his hands still bound, and ran towards the front gates. Before he could escape though, the wall collapsed, leaving a smoldering debris of stone blocking his path. Cursing, the Altmer bolted the other way, having to dodge fireballs and shrapnel as the Dragon's wrath was bestowed upon the tiny village. Having no time to spare, Azziroth ran into a Keep, clueless to wear he was going.

His armor and weapons were lost, and the Mercenary would have to start anew. Azziroth held his bound wrists above a torch that hung on the stone wall of the Keep and waited for the robe to break from the heat. After sometime, the rope snapped, and the Elf gave a sigh of relief, the ropes were way too tight for Azziroth's liking. Looking around, he found an unlocked chest, containing some beaten up iron armor, and a pair of iron boots. "Hopefully these fit..." the Altmer muttered, hopping around to fit into the boots. Fitting quite snugly, the armor displayed the Elf's developed muscles nicely, and Azziroth grabbed an Imperial Sword from a weapon rack, sitting down to momentarily process what just happened. If he was lucky, none of the other Prisoners would enter the Keep, and he could proceed without trouble...

 

[EpicVakarian]

My mouth fell open as the black dragon fell out of the sky and landed on the tower. He set the headsman burning and meteors began to fall from the sky, adding to the chaos.
I suddenly felt Thor smacking my ass, and although it felt damn good, it wasn't right. "Is now really the time?" I shouted at him over the noise, but then I realised he was trying to push me away from the dragon, along with him. I rolled my eyes at my mistake, and ran with him into the keep. Thor found three chests in the keep, and a dagger that he used to cut us both free. The middle chest held all my belongings, the right held his, and the left belonged to the horse thief, who was now lying dead with an arrow through his throat, buried under the rubble of Helgen's buildings. Thor put on his armour, and I looked away reluctantly. Then I took my clothes. I needed to decide which of the three to wear. Not my city clothes, obviously. I was going to be fighting, and a fugitive. I needed protection from both steel and eyes. Then I knew which set to wear. But I didn't. Thor didn't seem to realise what I was intending to do. "Thor. I'm getting changed." He nodded, but still didn't look away. I rolled my eyes, chuckling. "I don't mean putting these over the top. I'm dropping these," I said, pinching at the ragged, itchy set of clothes. It dawned on him and he turned away. I laughed, then turned away as well. I pulled the shirt off first, letting my chest hang open, then dropped the baggy trousers. I was completely naked. Then I pulled the trousers of my armour on, with their hip-plates and greaves covering the leather. And finally, the top, which had shoulder-plates and gauntlets, but let my cleavage show provocatively. I didn't pull the hood up just yet; everyone in Helgen already knew who I was and I didn't need to hide myself until we were out. I strapped Nightbringer to my left hip, and created a spark of flame between the fingers of my left hand, ready for a fight. "Okay, you can turn around now. Let's get going." Thor turned and saw me, in my extremely tight-fitting leather and uncovered cleavage, and his mouth dropped a fraction of an inch. "What? Something wrong with this?" I turned on the spot, stretching all my joints and looking at Thor questioningly. "Believe me, this would usually be tighter," I said, winking, referring to my lack of a good meal over the past few days. "Come on, let's go."

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Safe inside the keep, Thor was now safe enough to get his bearings - and do what blushing he would have done if he had not been running for his life. It took him a moment to see that Elly intended to change via full nudity, and he left her laughing as he turned around. Well, what a way to kick off what might be a friendship of necessity, he thought to himself as he heard clothes dropping to the floor. He thought it a predictable nuisance that some part of him wished she had just changed in front of him; he wasn't thinking this with his brain, needless to say. "Okay," Elly finally said, "you can turn around now." Thor opened his mouth a little, an involuntary reflex, at the sight of the tight-fitting suit she wore and the obvious open cleavage it showed.

"What? Something wrong with this?" Elly stretched, seeming to almost make a show of her figure. "Believe me, this would usually be tighter," she said with a wink.

Real firecracker, he thought. With an incredulous chuckle, Thor remarked, "You don't plan on staying anonymous in that, do you?" Elly's smile, humored at the Nord's reaction, remained laughing, and Thor said, "Don't- don't answer that."

"Come on, let's go," the Breton prompted.

"Alright, this way," Thor directed, thankful for a distraction from the too-intriguing woman who accompanied him. The pair walked down the stone corridor and a set of stairs to a gated door, behind which Thor could see four Legionnaires in a well-lit room. "Wait," he whispered to Elly, who had not yet come to the door;' she took care as she padded silently over to Thor. "There's going to be no sneaking past them."

 

[EpicVakarian]

"Vhosek! Stop," I whispered, patting him on the head and putting a finger to my lips. I pulled Aethaebryn from my bags, and nocked an arrow. I pulled the string back, aimed at the officer among the four Legionnaires. Knowing his armour would protect him, I aimed for the armpit, and fired while his arm was raised. The arrow flew truly, and hit exactly where I wanted it to. It pierced the soft, fleshy skin and kept going, right through his heart. I grinned at Thor, who blushed slightly, then put Aethaebryn away and drew Nightbringer. Vhosek flew out of the shadows and mauled the smallest soldier. I began a deadly dance with the second. He was a good fighter; but not good enough. I deflected a blow away from my neck and immediately brought my arm up, and Nightbringer cut straight through his arm, lopping it off, and kept going, digging a good few inches into his chest. Thor dealt with the last one.
"Sorted." I threw Vhosek a small piece of meat as a reward, and looked around for the next way to go. The only thing I could see was a cave; with webs lining the walls. I hunched over. Spiders terrified me, they were one of the few things that did. "Looks like that's the only way out." I pointed towards the cave entrance with my blade, not sheathing it in case any more Imperials emerged.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Thor was impressed at Elly's display of combat skill; she shot one of the Imperials dead before loosing her dog, Vhosek, onto another and drawing her blade to deal with the third. Thor drew his bow and followed her in, swiftly nocking an arrow and settling on the remaining soldier, who was charging his way. With the man only a few feet away, Thor shot his arrow into the man's stomach; its paralyzing enchantment sent him to his knees, and without missing a beat Thor had spun, drawn Goldfang, and slashed his throat, leaving the foe a smoldering, bloody mess. The Nord managed to salvage the arrow he had used, cleverly casting a Heal Other spell to clear the blood away.

"Looks like that's the only way out," Elly said, looking a little apprehensively toward a dim cave, where there were hints at the presence of Frostbite Spiders.

It was Thor's turn for some friendly ribbing, as he said, "The intriguing, mysterious warrior isn't afraid of spiders, is she?" He patted her on the back and began walking. "Come on," he said. The Breton agreed, steeling herself as best she could.

The wide cavern held five or six spiders of varying sizes, blocking the next further chamber. Thor ran and quickly plunged Goldfang into one of the smaller spiders, swinging up and sliding the arachnid's corpse off his blade. He turned to a second creature and took out four of its legs, then took a few swings at its thick outer skin before hacking into its guts and killing it. Vhosek didn't seem to have a problem with going at another of the smaller spiders.

 

[EpicVakarian]

I grimaced, thankful for Thor's comforting touch.
Inside the cave, Thor and Vhosek dealt with most of the spiders, but every so often, I'd cast a bolt of fire at one that was creeping up behind one of them. The way their limp corpses were flung across the rock floor by the fire made me shudder; it was like they were having a seizure, and it didn't look nice. But eventually, we dealt with them all, and we set off through the rest of the cave. I carefully edged around the spiders, not wanting to touch even one of them.
We came across an underground stream, that led us to a bear's den. Fortunately, there was only the one bear, but we still avoided riling it. Even two warriors as skilled as myself and Thor couldn't take down a bear on terrain like this, not even with Vhosek's help.
"We're going to have to sneak past it," I whispered to Thor, who nodded silently. I led the way, crouching down, sticking to the shadows and moving as slowly as possible. Thor followed my every move, though he had to be even more careful because he was bigger than me. Vhosek, thankfully, had the sense to stay silent as he padded over to us. I sighed with relief as we passed the bear without incident.
"That was lucky," I said, "and I don't intend on doing it again." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sliver of daylight. I immediately turned towards it to see the sun's reflection on the ice. A way out! I didn't hesitate. I pointed, still silent, then before Thor could react, I took his hand and led him quickly out of the cave and into the daylight. I smiled at the sun, baring my perfect, white teeth slightly. I could see Thor watching me, thinking he was being inconspicuous. I knew that it must be my Succubus blood causing him to keep looking, so I didn't worry myself about it.
Before either of us could say anything, there was a roar. We both dropped to the floor instantly, hiding ourselves. I landed quite hard on my front, which didn't do wonders for my chest, to say the least. It ached a lot. The dragon flew over us, mercifully failing to notice us.
"Thank the Gods..." I murmured. "We need to get somewhere; civilisation. Any ideas?" I got up from the snow and pulled up my hood, shrouding my face in shadow so that only my mouth could be seen, making sure my eyes were covered. The blue, tinted with the Succubus' purple, could easily give me away.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"There's a town, Riverwood, not far from here, but I think that's as close to civilization we can dare to go right now; there aren't many guards there, but we're already fugitives I'll bet. If we want to be safe, we need to get to Stormcloak territory." Thor led Elly through the woods, continuing to explain their only option. "I own a home in Riften, less than a week's journey from here; if we can get there, we'll have some refuge, and that's where most of my savings are we can-" Thor realized that he had been talking under the assumption, or the hope - he wasn't sure - that Elly would want to come with him.

"You were headed for Eastmarch, right? From Riften, you can take a carriage there. Do you mind if I ask what you plan to do there?"

Soon the duo was into the small town, which was buzzing with as much activity as such a little place could muster. The townsfolk had seen the demon fly off, but they had no idea what it was - or what it had interrupted. Thor and Elly entered a tow-story shop, where the shopkeeper welcomed them. "This is the Riverwood Trader. Anything you might need, we have." Thor rummaged through his bag; it seemed the Imperials had helped themselves to some of his coin, leaving only a hundred Septims.

 

[EpicVakarian]

Thor stopped talking halfway through his sentence, apparently realising something.
"I'd love to come to Riften with you."
"You were headed for Eastmarch, right?" I nodded. "From Riften you can take a carriage there. Do you mind if I ask what you plan to do there?"
I smiled mischievously.
"Well, at the time it was just because Windhelm was the closest city. But I guess now, we're Imperial fugitives, and Windhelm would be the perfect place to get away from the Empire. Maybe join up with the Stormcloaks, too." I shrugged, to demonstrate that I hadn't exactly planned any of this.
Eventually we reached Riverwood. It was a lovely little village, full of, as the name suggested, rivers and woods. Thor led her into a small shop, but he grimaced when he opened his coin purse to find only a hundred septims. I grinned at him, and tapped my nose sagely. I reached down my top, wincing every so often at the extra flesh in the already tight fit. But eventually, my hand found the hidden pockets where I kept the majority of my money. I had used what little skill I had in alteration magic to shrink the coins down, so they didn't make me uncomfortable and didn't weigh me down. I cast another spell on a few hundred septims, and threw them into his purse, laughing at his shocked face. Thor bought what he needed, then I said,
"Let's go speak to the smith. I'm sure I can... persuade him to let us use his tools." I winked at Thor, grinning. Thankfully, the smithy was right across the small road from the shop. I crossed over to the forge and caught the smith's attention.
"Hellooo, there..." The smith had begun to stare at me. "Can I ask what a pretty lady like you is doing in a forge?"
I stared into his eyes, letting the purple Succubus shine through my own rather than my usual blue. They cast a silent and unnoticeable spell on him. "I just wondered if we could use your forge." I spoke seductively, letting the Succubus magic do it's work. The smith's eyes rolled backwards slightly, and his mouth dropped even more slightly, but it was noticeable enough that I could tell that it had worked.
"......Oh, of course, go ahead! If there's anything you need, just ask me!"
"I will do, I might need some help later on. I'm just a woman, and I might have need of your... muscles." I winked at him, and he looked almost as though he would jump on top of her right there. I adapted the magic slightly and he walked off, constantly staring at my body. I looked back at Thor, who was amazed, but seemed almost as turned on as the smith. I winked slyly, then drew Nightbringer and gently placed the blade on the grindstone. After a few minutes, it was back to its usual brilliance, and I stood back to let Thor do what he needed to do.
When he was done, we set off and entered the inn, the Sleeping Giant. Thor took out ten of the septims I had given him, and paid the owner for a double room. The owner replied, to the embarrassment of both of us, that they only had a couples' room, which was the same as a double room but with a double bed instead of two single beds. I looked at Thor, smiled and said,
"Looks like we'll be stuck together tonight!" I was blushing slightly, but strangely looking forward to it. Thor, however, was flushed so much that not an inch of his face wasn't red. He smiled, though. I made it clear that he wouldn't be getting inside me... yet. It was all part of a larger plan. I wanted him, but it was good fun to tempt him so. I told myself that I would have him soon enough.
In the room, we had the same issue as in the keep; we had to get changed into our bedclothes. I began to undress without telling him, on purpose. It worked perfectly; he turned to get a quick glimpse of my bare ass, but didn't see much else before he quickly turned, blushing. I grinned to myself. I was hungry; a Succubus fed on sex. Being only part Succubus, I could go some time without having sex relative to full-blood Succubi, but I would never be completely full simply from food. Not that I wanted to use him for that; he was a nice guy. I came here looking for a husband. Maybe I've already done it?
I climbed into bed, with Thor already laying there, looking the other way.
"Come on, Thor. You don't have to go that far! It's an awfully cold night..."

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"Well, at the time it was just because Windhelm was the closest city. But I guess now, we're Imperial fugitives, and Windhelm would be the perfect place to get away from the Empire. Maybe join up with the Stormcloaks, too."

"Hmm," Thor mused. "I'm not sure how close I want to get to either side of this war, after today."

Later on, Thor was dumbfounded by how Elly could persuade some of the town's men. Not that I don't... see what's persuading them - he had even had a glimpse of the curvaceous woman that night on accident, and Elly had naturally taken it in stride - but it's almost like it's something more than just looks. There was something strange about the Breton woman; she seemed to play hard to get, while begging for some kind of advance, at the same time. The nonchalant way she handled some situations, such as the pair's sleeping arrangements, was almost as sinister as how she had manipulated the blacksmith into giving them free reign of his tools. And now he lay next to her, not sure what was the appropriate distance from her for him to sleep. "Come on, Thor. You don't have to go that far! It's an awfully cold night..."

Thor decided that the best course of action would be to not acknowledge Elly's suggestive teasing. He brushed the fur blanket her way a little, and said, "Warmer now? Good night."

Day 1​

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Thor was first out of bed that morning; he ached a little from the prior day's stress and strenuous activity, but it was nothing a minor health potion couldn't fix. He plucked a small glass vial from among his things and gulped down the reddish-pink liquid within, immediately beginning to feel better. He slipped out of his nightclothes and into the robes he wore under his armor, and as he was strapping on his leather chest piece he saw Elly begin to stir. She poked up her head, pushing her sleep-tousled brown hair out of her eyes, and smiled. Never quits, does she? Part of the Nord wanted to try and interact with the Breton as little as possible that day, possibly avoid the confusion and tension that she seemed to love; but he had also agreed to guide her to his home, and he didn't want to go back on that. And while Elly did torture him, Thor had a suspicion that openness with her might be beneficial to him. "Good morning," he said smiling slightly. "I'll be out here, getting us some breakfast and supplies."​

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Elly slid onto a table bench a few minutes later, looking completely dressed up for the day. "That was quick," the Nord remarked. "I've got us food for the day and some basic camping supplies, in case we don't reach an inn by tonight." He laid out a map and began to point out where they would go. "We'll head past Helgen - it's probably empty and ruined by now, and we won't be caught. Then we head up through the mountains, until they level out and we're in the Rift."​

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[EpicVakarian]

-DAY 1-​

I awoke to see Thor already getting dressed. He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at her, for whatever reason. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, and back over my ears. I smiled at him, but he kept trying to avoid eye contact. He knows, I realised. He had seemed to be scared by my easy manipulation of the smith yesterday, and now was trying to avoid getting too close. He was still being friendly, but not in the same way as yesterday.​

"Good morning." He spoke stiffly. He wasn't unkind, nor was there anything in his voice that a normal woman should have been able to hear. But I wasn't an ordinary woman. It wasn't the same. This only confirmed my suspicions. I decided to lay off the teasing; I wanted to be with Thor, and not just to sate my hunger. I wouldn't stop doing what I'd normally do, though, only the teasing.​

"Morning, Thor. Listen..." I began to apologise for my suggestive motions yesterday. "About what happened yesterday. I'm sorry, if you don't want it, I won't do it." I knew full well that he wanted it; that was what scared him most. But I kept going: "You know, a lot of stuff happened yesterday, and I just wanted something to... to cuddle, or something, anything. I promise, I won't do it again, not if you don't want me to."​

Later, I dressed into my tight leather outfit, brushed the knots out of my hair, and tied it back into its usual ponytail. I packed my bags, but left them in the room while I went out to get some breakfast. Thor came to me soon after, telling me how he had food and camping equipment, and that they were to loop back past Helgen and through a snowy mountain pass. I had no quarrels with this plan, so I nodded, grabbed my bags and followed him out of the inn. We followed the same road from yesterday back down to Helgen, and I gasped when I saw it.​

It was barely a shadow of the town it had been. Not one bit of the architecture remained as it had been; every single building had some aspect of being burnt down, some aspect of being completely wrecked. It wasn't like the town had any emotional meaning to me, but it was a shock to see it razed to the ground in less than a day. I looked away, hurrying past Helgen and following the route Thor had outlined earlier, with Thor himself close behind, and Vhosek at my side.​

We soon came to the pass. It was like a scene out of a nightmare; it curved just enough that you couldn't see more than six feet into the pass, with visibly icy winds being funneled through it. It was the perfect spot for an ambush, but I shook the thought away. between Thor, Vhosek and myself, we could handle a small group of bandits if they tried anything on. What worried me more was the stories of frost trolls. They were native to Skyrim and were like giant apes, with white, wiry fur and three eyes. If we got attacked by one of those in such a narrow path, I'm not sure we could fight it off.​

"We're going in there?!"​