4E 201, College of Winterhold
Ancano
Ancano scowled as cold winds howled through the open windows in his room. They were piercing, like the cries of a thousand lost souls.
Aptly named, Ancano thought, as he eyed the horizon of the Sea of Ghosts. It was quite ironic that a place claiming to be a bastion of knowledge was so precariously balanced at what he believed to be the worst place in all of Skyrim.
The College of Winterhold may seem grand at first sight, but it paled in comparison to the magical institutions of Summerset Isles. The one here in Skyrim was a crumbling edifice in a crumbling province, with prospective students severely lacking in talent.
Inside his quarters, however, there was only silence—perfect, calculated silence.
The room had been painstakingly prepared ever since he had moved here to monitor the actions of the College. Dozens of 'Muffle' runes had been etched beneath the rug, drawn onto the walls behind illusory paint, and hidden within the seams of the curtains. No spell, no sound, no hint of what occurred inside this room would reach the outside.
Ancano stood in the center of the room, his golden eyes glinting with controlled anticipation. On the table before him was a smooth, obsidian disk carved with rotating concentric rings and tiny runes. The Vox Matrix—a magical communication device created by the researchers of the Dominion.
It was a recent discovery and access to it was only given to the best agents the Dominion had. A position he was qualified for. It cost a Grand Soul Gem to power, and even then, the device's range was limited. But as long as Elenwen remained within the borders of Skyrim, it would suffice.
He placed the soul gem into the core slot. A low hum reverberated through the device, causing the etched runes to glow with pale golden light. A projection shimmered to life above the disk—tall, sharp-featured, and resplendent in Thalmor robes.
Elenwen.
First Emissary. Ambassador of the Dominion. His superior, technically—but not for long, if Ancano had his way.
"Ancano," Elenwen said coolly, her voice distant yet clear through the veil of magic. "Your signal is late."
"I was waiting for the Archmage to leave the Observatory Tower," Ancano replied. "He and the Dragonslayer have been a bit chummy as of late. They waste a lot of hours in Savos Aren's personal workstation discussing something I'm not privy to. Fools—all of them."
Elenwen narrowed her eyes. "Why have you used the Vox Matrix? This better not be another rant about your petty grievances with the Archmage."
Ancano let the insult slide. Barely.
"I have reason to believe that a Moth Priest named Dexion Evicus is here at the College. I had my suspicions when he claimed to be a scholar of Elder Lore, but I suspect he has access to an Elder Scroll."
That earned her full attention.
Elenwen's eyebrows twitched upward. "A Scroll? Are you certain?"
"No, not yet. But the signs are there. A member of the Dawnguard came recently seeking an audience with the Dragonslayer and his pet vampire. They met with the Moth Priest right after."
She leaned back slightly, considering. "If the Dragonslayer has interest in this Dexion, then perhaps there is truth in this. The Scroll must be seized. But our resources are thin, Ancano. Northwatch Keep has fallen."
That caught Ancano off guard. "Fallen? To who?"
"Vampires," she spat. "Savages. They struck in the night, slaughtered the entire garrison. We've lost contact with half the northern patrols. I am gathering a hundred of our finest from the Embassy to launch a full-scale purge of the area."
"You need a hundred of the Thalmor elites for mere Vampires?" He sneered.
"There is nothing simple about this" Elenwen met his stare unflinchingly. "The night stalkers we've encountered are nothing like the diseased that are usually found in Skyrim's wilderness. These are pure-blooded, or at least close to it."
"I see," Ancano muttered. He hated complications.
Elenwen crossed her arms. "Which is why I cannot afford to spare soldiers for a mission that may not yield anything. Especially if this would make the College our enemy."
Ancano's expression darkened. "Then allow me to give you a reason. Faralda, Collette, and several students are preparing an expedition to Saarthal. They leave tomorrow at dawn. That will leave the College vulnerable. The Dragonborn and the vampire have flown off on some fool's errand in Haafingar."
"While news of the Dragonborn being able to ride dragons is worrying, that still leaves the Archmage and the Dragonslayer."
"They will not be a problem," Ancano said, lips curling into a confident smirk. "Give me one Justiciar. I will grant them access through the Midden. There is a concealed passage that leads directly to the Hall of the Elements. With proper Muffle and Invisibility spells, they could reach the Scroll without alerting anyone."
Elenwen was quiet for a moment.
"Very well. I will send Justiciar Aralor with a detachment. He will arrive within the week. If you are wrong—"
"I am not," Ancano cut in coldly. "You know as well as I that the Elder Scrolls are real. The Dominion must possess such power. The Nords have grown too bold. This is our chance to remind them of their place."
Elenwen's image flickered slightly, as if strained by the magical signal. "Do not fail, Ancano. The eyes of the Dominion are upon you."
The projection shimmered once more—then vanished into darkness.
Ancano exhaled slowly and turned away from the now-dormant device. Outside, the wind howled against the windows once more, but Ancano ignored it.
…
4E 201, The Rift
Esbern
Dark smoke curled visibly past the canopy of trees, drifting from Riften's direction.
Esbern clutched his staff tighter as he led the group through the forest. Looking back, the Honorhall orphans continued trudging forward, wide-eyed yet silent. It was their first time outside the city walls, though not in the circumstances they hoped for.
Delphine and Fultheim walked at the flanks, their weapons sheathed for now, but their gazes sharp. The ground trembled now and again, telling them that the fighting back in Riften hasn't concluded as of yet. Though with Esbern's suspicions of what exactly is leading the undead army, the defenders wouldn't last much longer.
"We need shelter," Delphine murmured, scanning the horizon as they trudged along a narrow path out of the city. "There's no telling when another wave will come."
Constance, pale-faced and trembling, let out a sudden gasp. "That farm—Merryfair. I know it. It's not far. We can make it there."
They followed the caretaker's pointing finger through the sparse trees, and sure enough, smoke curled from a chimney in the distance—yet not the blackened smoke of ruin, but the warm, orange kind that clung to life.
As they crested the hill, however, their hope turned to alarm.
Draugr. Half a dozen of them littered the fields. The family—two parents and their young son—huddled behind Mjoll the Lioness and her companion Aerin, who stood fast with bow in hand.
The Shield Maiden looked exhausted. She barely lifted her axe to block against a Draugr's strike, holding it in place for Aerin to place an arrow in its eye socket.
Delphine didn't hesitate. Her Blades katana flashed as she dashed forward, Fultheim right behind her. Esbern raised his hand, conjuring a rune of fire that scorched the earth beneath the Draugr's feet.
Their Akaviri Katana cleaved through the Draugr without difficulty, who fell quickly under their combined assault. Mjoll, Aerin, and the family let out a breath of relief.
"We thought we were done for," Aerin muttered, giving them a nod of thanks.
"You held well," Delphine acknowledged.
Esbern stepped forward. "What happened to the city? I saw you run to the gate when the attack started."
Mjoll's expression took on a grimace "The Draugr breached it. The Stormcloaks—Divines bless them—put up a decent fight with all the new Ebony gear. The Riften Guard were near useless and they didn't last with such numbers. They lasted only minutes…"
"Minutes?" Esbern asked. "That city fell that quickly?"
"It wasn't just the Draugr. The one leading them… he was different." She swallowed. "Tall. At least seven feet. He wielded a Daedric claymore with one hand like it weighed nothing. A stave in the other. Magic that unleashed a scorching blast that blew the gates from its hinges. His face was hidden behind a green mask."
Esbern released a sigh. His mind raced through ancient texts, scrolls he had memorized, names long lost to time. "It is as I feared. The enemy commander is a Dragon Priest. A green mask… That would be Rahgot."
Delphine's hand drifted to her sword again. "You're sure?"
"Certain," Esbern said grimly. "Rahgot was a commander in the Dragon Cult during the Merethic Era. One of Alduin's most fervent followers. If he has returned… then Alduin has begun mobilizing his forces."
Before anyone could respond, the sound of hooves and crunching snow signaled new arrivals.
Maven Black-Briar rode at the head of her retinue, her fur-lined cloak immaculate despite the chaos. Beside her marched Maul, her loyal enforcer, flanked by her children; Ingun, Hemming, and Sibbi Black-Briar. Their faces were tight, lips drawn in hard lines.
Behind them, another group trickled in. Jarl Laila Law-Giver limping alongside her court wizard, Wylandriah, and a handful of battered guards still bearing the Riften crest.
Even Delvin and Vex appeared from the treeline, grime-covered but alive. Members of the Thieves' Guild regrouping.
Esbern eyed the strange gathering of people—thieves, mages, orphans, nobles, and brigands. An odd company, but in times of chaos, lines blurred.
Jarl Laila's eyes welled with tears as she looked back at the smoke. "My city… it's gone." She wiped her face. "We head to Fort Greenwall. With the remaining Stormcloaks there and the outer garrisons, we can form a stronghold. A thousand defenders can hold that keep until Ulfric sends reinforcements."
"I wish you good luck, then." Maven chimed in. "But my family will not be toiling in a fortress while death marches for us all. Word has come from my men—Shor's Stone has grown from the small town it was. Its defenses are strong."
A few looked up in surprise.
"The Dragonslayer holds dominion there now," Maven added. "I trust that means something to all of you."
Esbern blinked. "The Dragonslayer?"
Delphine frowned, glancing at him.
Esbern frowned. "Last I heard, that town was a mineshaft with houses built of timber. What defenses could they have?"
"Enough," Maven said. "If this Dragonslayer fancies himself a city-maker, then perhaps I can offer him my own expertise in doing so. I'll take my chances there."
The Jarl gave Maven a nod. "Then please lead the citizens there, Maven." She gave the Merryfair farm family and the children a soft smile. "I will stay with the men in Greenwall. I will not run while they risk their lives."
"Suit yourself, Laila." Maven replied as she urged her horse northwards, followed by her retinue.
Delphine glanced to Esbern. "What do you think?"
He considered it. Fort Greenwall was defensible, yes—but a thousand fighters was nowhere enough to hold against a Dragon Priest. Shor's Stone, if it was truly owned by the Dragonslayer, means a chance to meet the Dragonborn herself.
"I think we go north," Esbern said at last. "Let the Stormcloaks hold the keep. If the Dragonslayer is at Shor's Stone, then that is where we're needed."
Delphine nodded. "Agreed. We'll ride with Maven."
Esbern turned to the orphans huddled nearby and Constance, who held them close.
"What about you, Lady Mjoll?" Fultheim asked the Nord woman.
"I shall join you." She replied, nodding at Aerin and the family. "I will help escort them and the children to the town before joining the defense at Greenwall."
"Eh, making a base at a new town sounds fun." Delvin said before carving a small symbol at the farm wall. "Brynjolf will know to follow us with this."
"I bid you all good luck." Jarl Laila said her goodbyes. "The Rift hasn't fallen yet, I assure you."
Esbern watched her leave with Wylandriah and the Rift Guards in tow before shaking his head and following Delphine.
…
AN: Another interlude chapter. Thought it was fun to have an update on the Thalmor and the Blades in one chapter. Ancient rivals, both having problems of their own. Rahgot and Harkon aren't easy enemies after all.
People are starting to converge at Shor's Stone which I have said to be the sort of main base in which the Dragon War shall escalate.
More chapters on my Pat_reon! A whole 10 chapters ahead! Chapter 54 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name and you'll find me.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!