If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The entire brutal engagement lasted less than five seconds.
Aerion lowered his hand, the last sparks of purple electricity dancing across his fingertips before fading into the gloom. The room was perfectly, eerily silent, save for the crackling of a small fire that had started in a flour sack. Aerion turned back to the group waiting in the doorway, his golden eyes completely cold and pragmatic. "The kitchen is clear," Aerion announced smoothly, adjusting his cuffs. "Bring the boy inside. We continue downward."
The heavy oak door creaked open. Froki Whetted-Blade shuffled rapidly into the kitchen, his frail, trembling hand clamped firmly over Haming's eyes. The old man kept his own gaze fixed squarely on the far wall, doing everything in his power to ignore the gruesome, smoking carnage scattered across the floorboards as he guided his grandson through the room.
Aerion, Jenassa, Hadvar, and Aeloria immediately took the vanguard position. They moved past the massive stone hearths and pushed through a heavy wooden door at the back of the pantry, stepping out of the garrison limits and into a damp, descending stone corridor.
The air here was remarkably cooler, thick with the smell of mildew, stale blood, and rusted iron. They were entering the lower dungeon levels of the keep.
They followed the hallway as it turned sharply to the right, descending a wide flight of stone stairs.
Suddenly, the distinct, sharp clash of steel striking steel echoed up the stairwell, accompanied by the grunts of exertion and the wet thud of a body hitting the floor.
Hadvar gripped his sword tighter, pausing on the steps. "More fighting. It sounds like it's coming from the interrogation rooms below."
Aerion's tactical mind instantly processed the layout. He did not want to charge blindly down a narrow stairwell into a potentially crowded melee. He turned to his bodyguard.
"Jenassa," Aerion commanded softly, gesturing down the stairs. "Go and help clear the room, shoot them with precision. Do not give them a chance to organize."
The Dark Elf assassin offered a sharp, lethal nod. She sheathed her longsword, seamlessly unstrapping the heavy Dwarven Bow from her back.
Jenassa didn't walk down the stairs; she flowed. She moved with absolute, terrifying silence, her leather boots making no sound against the stone. She reached the bottom of the stairwell, melting entirely into the shadows of the archway overlooking the large, torch lit torture chamber.
Inside the room, three Stormcloak rebels were aggressively advancing on an old Imperial torturer and his younger assistant, completely unaware of the lethal shadow above them.
Jenassa nocked an arrow, drawing the heavy, mechanical Dwarven bowstring back to her cheek. She didn't hesitate or aim for center mass.
THWIP.
The first heavy steel arrow crossed the room in a blur, sinking cleanly into the base of the lead rebel's skull. He dropped instantly, a dead weight on the stone.
Before the remaining two rebels could even register their comrade falling, Jenassa's hands moved in a flawless, practiced rhythm.
THWIP. THWIP.
Two more arrows found their marks with terrifying, absolute lethality. One rebel took an arrow directly through his unarmored throat, while the other took it through his right eye. The skirmish was over in less than three seconds, the three Stormcloaks dead before their bodies even hit the floor.
Down in the room, the old, bald Imperial torturer and his assistant jumped back in shock, raising their iron maces.
"Shor's bones!" the torturer barked, looking wildly around the room. He spotted the glowing red eyes of the Dark Elf standing in the shadows of the stairwell. "Who the blazes are you?!"
Before Jenassa could respond, Aerion, Aeloria, Hadvar, and the civilians descended the stairs, stepping fully into the torchlight of the interrogation chamber.
Hadvar rushed forward, recognizing the old man immediately.
"It's alright! We're not rebels!" Hadvar shouted, sheathing his sword. "Listen to me, old man, you need to grab whatever gear you can carry and follow us out of here immediately. There is a dragon, a literal dragon, tearing the upper courtyards apart! The keep is collapsing above us!"
The old torturer, a man whose entire life had been defined by sadistic stubbornness and bureaucratic cruelty, let out a harsh, cynical laugh, completely disregarding the young soldier's panic.
"A dragon? You expect me to believe a child's fairy tale?" the torturer sneered, gripping his iron mace tightly. "I don't care if Oblivion itself is opening up upstairs. You're just a standard infantry grunt, Hadvar. I don't take orders from you. My rank is vastly above yours. I am staying right here to protect Imperial property."
The younger assistant looked frantically at the ceiling as another deep, vibrating tremor shook the keep. Dust fell from the stone arches.
"Sir, please!" the assistant begged, dropping his mace. "If he says there's a dragon, we should run! Just leave him, let's go!"
Hadvar stepped forward, his inherent decency compelling him to try and save the stubborn old fool. "Sir, please, you have to listen to reason! The roof is going to cave in!"
Aerion stepped smoothly past Hadvar, raising a hand to cut off the soldier's desperate pleading. The High Elf's golden eyes were utterly devoid of empathy as he looked at the old torturer.
"We are leaving. Now," Aerion commanded, his voice cold and uncompromising. He looked at Hadvar. "The dragon that possible eating your General now does not respect Imperial military rankings. If this man wishes to burn alongside his rusted iron maidens, that is his sovereign choice. We do not have the time to debate with a corpse."
Hadvar gritted his teeth, visibly torn, but the sheer, terrifying logic of the High Elf's words overrode his military conditioning. He turned his back on the old torturer.
"Fine. Stay," Hadvar muttered. He gestured to the assistant. "You, come with us if you want to live."
The assistant didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted past his superior, joining the group as they rushed out of the torture chamber and into the dark, echoing hallway beyond.
The architecture of the keep shifted dramatically.
The polished stone walls gave way to rough hewn rock and damp earth. They passed down a long, miserable corridor lined with heavy iron cell doors. Several rusted, hanging iron cages dangled from the ceiling, swinging slightly from the residual tremors caused by Alduin's attack above.
They rushed through a broken section of the stone wall, the fortress architecture officially ending and giving way to a massive, natural subterranean cavern.
A series of ancient, rusted iron braziers had been lit along the rocky path, casting flickering, long shadows across the cavern walls.
Aerion walked cautiously, his Gamer mind fully anticipating the next scripted combat encounter. In the vanilla timeline, this specific open cavern was meant to be the site of a massive, chaotic skirmish between a squad of fleeing Imperial soldiers or a group of entrenched Stormcloaks, different according to the sides they choose.
But as they stepped into the massive, echoing space... it was completely, utterly empty.
There were no bodies. There was no clashing steel. There were only the flickering fires and the sound of dripping water.
Aerion's brow furrowed slightly. The butterfly effect of his presence, the sheer speed at which he had butchered the rebels in the kitchen and the torture room, and the altered path they had taken, had entirely disrupted the timeline. The possible Stormcloaks that should be here arent here, they probably had been crushed by falling rubble in a different tunnel.
A highly preferable outcome, Aerion decided, dismissing his surprise. Less combat meant conserving Magicka.
They continued their rapid march across the rocky floor, heading toward a massive, deep chasm that split the cavern in two. Spanning the dark, rushing water far below was a heavy wooden drawbridge, currently raised and locked into place.
Hadvar sprinted to the control mechanism built into the rock face. He hauled the heavy iron lever downward.
With a loud, groaning clatter of heavy chains, the wooden drawbridge slowly lowered, slamming into the rock on the opposite side with a heavy thud.
"Cross! Quickly!" Hadvar ordered, waving the group forward.
Jenassa took the point, sprinting lightly across the wooden planks, followed immediately by Froki, Haming, and the terrified torturer's assistant. Aeloria crossed next, her Imperial sword drawn and ready.
Aerion stepped onto the bridge, his towering frame making the wood creak, with Lupin trotting faithfully at his heels. Hadvar brought up the rear, stepping onto the planks just as another massive, deafening tremor rocked the mountain.
CRACK BOOM.
The shockwave was vastly more violent than the previous ones. Directly above the chasm, the natural stone ceiling catastrophically failed.
"Move!" Aerion roared, engaging his massive Stamina pool to sprint the final ten feet, grabbing Hadvar by the shoulder and violently hauling the young soldier forward onto solid rock.
A second later, several tons of jagged granite boulders and stalactites crashed down from the darkness above. The massive rocks slammed directly into the wooden drawbridge. The heavy iron chains snapped like brittle twigs under the immense weight. The entire bridge splintered into a thousand pieces, collapsing completely into the dark, rushing subterranean river far below.
The group stood on the edge of the chasm, panting heavily, completely enveloped in a thick cloud of stone dust.
They looked back across the gap. The path behind them was entirely, permanently destroyed. The ruined keep, the execution block, and the burning town of Helgen were sealed away.
"There's no going back now," Hadvar coughed, waving the dust from his face. "The only way out is forward."
They turned away from the chasm, following the only remaining path deeper into the natural cave system.
The environment quickly grew significantly more hostile.
The air became frigid, and the rocky walls were thickly coated in a dense, sticky, grayish white substance that resembled massive, heavy netting.
"Cobwebs," Jenassa noted, her crimson eyes narrowing in profound disgust. She drew her twin blades, the malachite glowing faintly in the dark. "Massive ones. Step carefully. We have entered a nest."
They hadn't taken twenty steps into the web choked cavern before the ambush was triggered.
With a horrific, synchronized chorus of wet, clicking mandibles and the scuttling of dozens of hairy legs, a massive swarm of Frostbite Spiders descended from the shadows of the ceiling.
There were easily a dozen of them, some the size of large dogs, others nearly as large as a horse. They dropped onto the rocky floor, hissing violently and rearing back to spray their highly toxic, freezing venom.
"Defensive circle! Protect the civilians!" Hadvar roared, raising his shield to deflect a glob of freezing venom aimed at Haming.
The combat was instantly chaotic.
Aeloria did not shrink back. The Dragonborn stepped forward with terrifying, instinctual confidence. She ducked under the leaping strike of a medium sized spider, driving her Imperial steel sword cleanly up through the creature's soft underbelly, severing its thorax with a spray of foul, greenish ichor. She moved with a fluid, lethal grace that completely belied her ragged appearance.
Jenassa became a blur of whirling steel, her twin blades slicing through the thick chitin of the spiders like paper, dismembering them before they could even launch their venom.
But sheer numbers threatened to overwhelm the frontline. Two massive, horse sized spiders were scuttling rapidly down the rock wall, preparing to pounce directly onto Froki and the terrified boy.
Aerion stepped forward, realizing physical weapons were too slow for optimal crowd control.
He raised both of his hands, completely dropping his electrical magic. The cold, damp environment of the cave required raw, overwhelming thermal energy to burn away the webs and the chitin. He tapped into his Destruction matrix, pulling the pure essence of fire into his palms.
"Burn in the light," Aerion commanded smoothly.
He didn't cast a localized fireball. He unleashed a massive, sustained, dual cast torrent of Flames. A roaring, blinding inferno of superheated orange plasma erupted from his hands, sweeping across the ceiling and the walls.
The effect was utterly devastating. The thick, sticky cobwebs instantly caught fire, spreading the flames rapidly across the cavern. The massive spiders caught in the direct blast of the magic shrieked, a horrifying, high pitched squeal of boiling fluids, as their thick exoskeletons cracked and blackened.
Aerion became a walking flamethrower, sweeping his arms back and forth, systematically bathing the entire cavern in absolute, purifying fire until the clicking stopped and the room smelled distinctly of roasted crab and ash.
The intense, rapid usage of the fire magic triggered a cascading wave of systemic growth in his mind.
[Destruction (Fire)(+2) Leveled Up 12 Times! Current Level: 74]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 108!]
[You have gained 1 Attribute Point! Current Unspent Points: 2]
Aerion lowered his hands, letting the flames die down. He mentally banked the attribute points, deciding to allocate them later when he had a moment to carefully review his overall stat distribution.
"The nest is clear," Aerion announced, stepping over the charred, smoking husk of a massive spider.
They pressed forward, navigating through the smoldering cobwebs until the path narrowed significantly. They crossed a small, natural stone bridge spanning a shallow underground stream, turning sharply to the right.
Suddenly, Hadvar threw his hand up, signaling an immediate, dead halt.
"Shhh! Not a sound," Hadvar whispered frantically, pressing his back against the cold rock wall.
He pointed a trembling finger down the winding tunnel.
Resting in a small, recessed clearing just twenty yards ahead, sleeping soundly upon a bed of crushed bones and dried leaves, was a massive, fully grown Cave Bear.
The beast was an absolute monster of muscle and thick fur, easily capable of tearing an armored man in half with a single swipe of its massive paws. Its deep, rumbling snores echoed loudly through the tunnel.
Hadvar looked back at the group, his eyes wide with anxiety. "A cave bear. We don't have the room to fight that thing in this narrow tunnel. If we wake it, someone is going to die. We have to sneak past it. Step exactly where I step, and don't make a sound."
Aerion looked at the sleeping behemoth. His transmigrator mind instantly calculated the variables.
He could easily kill it. A single, compressed lance of plasma would instantly boil the creature's brain before it even woke up. Alternatively, he could simply tap into his finalized Animal Affinity Skill and permanently tame the beast, binding it to his will just as he had done with the mammoths.
But as he looked down at Lupin, who was currently staring at the bear with his ears pinned back in absolute terror, Aerion quickly dismissed the idea of taming it.
'Highly impractical,' Aerion reasoned logically. A bear is an apex predator. Bringing it into the compound would require building a secondary, heavily reinforced enclosure to keep it separated from the horses and the mercenaries. It offers no immediate mercantile value, and it is a massive logistical liability at this current juncture. Let the beast sleep.
Aerion offered Hadvar a slow, affirming nod.
"Proceed," Aerion whispered.
The stealth sequence began. Hadvar crept forward, his iron boots making agonizingly slow, deliberate movements against the loose gravel. Froki carried Haming, ensuring the boy's small boots didn't kick any stones. Aeloria moved with the silent, practiced grace of a seasoned wilderness hunter, her footsteps practically invisible. Jenassa, a master of the shadows, glided past the bear without displacing a single breath of air.
Aerion, despite his towering height and heavy aristocratic robes, engaged the phantom muscle memory he had absorbed from the Thief Stone. He shifted his center of gravity flawlessly, his boots landing on the solid stone with absolutely zero friction or sound.
They crept past the massive, snoring beast, the heavy, musky smell of the animal thick in the air.
[Sneak Leveled Up 7 Times! Current Level: 48]
They cleared the bear's den without a single incident, following the winding tunnel as the air began to shift. The smell of damp stone and mildew was suddenly, incredibly replaced by the crisp, freezing scent of pine needles and open air.
A faint, brilliant beam of natural sunlight pierced the darkness ahead.
"There! The exit!" Hadvar gasped, breaking into a rapid jog.
They scrambled over a final pile of loose rocks, pushing their way through a thick curtain of hanging ivy, and stepped out of the suffocating darkness of the cavern.
The blinding, brilliant blue sky of Skyrim washed over them. The crisp, freezing mountain wind hit their faces, a profound, overwhelming wave of physical relief. They were standing on a high, rocky plateau overlooking the sprawling, densely forested valley of Falkreath.
They had survived. They had escaped the apocalypse.
"We made it," Hadvar breathed, dropping to his knees on the soft grass, his sword clattering to the ground. "By the Divines, we actually made it out."
Aerion did not relax. His golden eyes immediately snapped toward the sky.
"Get down!" Aerion roared, his melodic voice cracking like a whip. "Behind the rocks! Now!"
His tone carried such absolute, terrifying command that no one hesitated. Hadvar scrambled behind a thick pine tree. Aeloria dove behind a massive granite boulder. Jenassa grabbed Aerion's robes, pulling him down into the tall grass beside her, while Lupin buried his face in the dirt.
A fraction of a second later, the sky above the plateau violently darkened.
The deafening, apocalyptic roar of the World-Eater shattered the peace of the valley. Alduin burst from the cloud cover directly over their heads, his massive obsidian wings beating the air with hurricane force.
He did not look down. He flew straight over the plateau, letting out a final, terrifying shriek before banking sharply to the north, disappearing into the distant, snow-capped peaks of the Throat of the World.
The group remained huddled in the dirt for a long, agonizing minute, the silence of the forest slowly returning as the dragon's roar faded into the distance.
Hadvar slowly pushed himself up from behind the tree, his face completely pale. He stared at the empty blue sky, his entire worldview completely shattered.
"I... I always thought dragons were just tales," Hadvar whispered, his voice trembling with a profound, existential dread. "Talk of legends to frighten children. But seeing it... feeling the heat of its fire... I understand now. I understand why they were feared as gods. I understand why it took a literal war to overthrow them."
Aerion stood up gracefully, brushing the pine needles from his dark robes. He looked at the young soldier, his golden eyes cold and pragmatic.
"This is an absolute catastrophe, Hadvar," Aerion stated, his voice ringing with grave, calculated authority. "The legends have manifested. If a single dragon can suddenly revive from the ancient past and effortlessly obliterate a fortified Imperial stronghold... we must assume it is not an isolated incident. There were thousands of dragons in the First Era. If others return, the entire province will burn."
Hadvar's eyes widened in horror. "By the Eight... you're right. We have to warn the Holds. General Tullius... he might be dead. The Jarls need to know."
Hadvar turned to the group, his military training desperately trying to assert a plan.
"Listen to me, everyone," Hadvar commanded urgently. "We need to stick together. I know this area. We need to follow this mountain path down into the valley. It leads directly to Riverwood. My uncle, Alvor, is the blacksmith there. He is a good man. He will give us shelter, food, and a place to rest before we figure out our next move."
Aeloria stepped out from behind the boulder, sheathing her stolen Imperial sword. She looked at the young soldier, her expression a mixture of profound relief and lingering hesitation.
"Hadvar," Aeloria began softly, her voice carrying a deep, genuine uncertainty. "Is it truly safe for me to accompany you into a town? I am extremely grateful that you guided us out of that inferno, but... technically, I am still an Imperial prisoner. I wasn't even part of the rebellion. I was just hunting near the border when I was swept up in the ambush. The Captain didn't care. If another Imperial patrol spots me traveling with you..."
Hadvar immediately shook his head, holding up a reassuring hand.
"No. Absolutely not," Hadvar stated firmly, his inherent honor shining through. "I saw your name on the list, Aeloria. I know you weren't on the target roster. You were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that Captain was a bloodthirsty fool. You survived the dragon. You earned your life today. If anyone asks, I will personally vouch for your innocence to the Legion."
Aerion stepped forward, seeing the absolute perfect opening to seamlessly insert himself into the Dragonborn's life.
"And I shall vouch for you as well, Aeloria," Aerion added, his voice incredibly warm, smooth, and laced with genuine sincerity. "My word carries significant weight in the Whiterun Hold. Furthermore, if you truly have nowhere to go after this trauma, you do not need to wander the wilderness. I own a estate just outside the walls of Whiterun. You are more than welcome to stay with my company until you decide your next path."
Aeloria looked at the towering, incredibly handsome High Elf who had shielded her from dragon fire, cut her bonds, and now offered her sanctuary. Her heart fluttered slightly at the sheer generosity.
"Are you certain, Aerion?" Aeloria asked, her blue eyes shining with gratitude. "I do not want to impose upon your generosity. I have nothing to offer in return."
"It is no imposition at all," Aerion smiled warmly, though his golden eyes remained perfectly calculating. He smoothly transitioned into a subtle, vital intelligence gathering probe. "However, I would hate to pull you away from your loved ones. Is there a family, a husband, or a clan waiting for you back in the north that we should send word to? Someone who will be frantic with worry over your capture?"
It was a highly critical question. If she had family, they were a massive tactical liability, potential leverage points that enemies could use to control her, or variables that could pull her away from his direct influence.
Aeloria's expression softened into a look of quiet, resilient sadness. She shook her head slowly.
"No," Aeloria replied softly, her voice carrying the quiet strength of a solitary survivor. "There is no one to send word to. My parents passed during the harsh winter years ago. I have been surviving on my own, hunting the tundra. It is just me now."
A profound, intense wave of absolute, unadulterated satisfaction washed over Aerion's Gamer mind. She is completely unattached. A blank slate. The perfect, unburdened asset.
"Then my offer stands indefinitely," Aerion stated smoothly, offering a comforting smile.
"I will deeply consider it, Aerion. Thank you," Aeloria nodded, a genuine, warm smile returning to her ash stained face. "But let us focus on reaching Riverwood first. I would kill a frost troll for a warm meal and a bath." Hadvar nodded, turning toward the descending mountain path. Agreed. Stay close. It's a long walk down."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 430/430 Stamina: 430/430 Magicka: 600/600
Level: 107 ➝ 108
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+2)/Lightning(+1)/Frost) (Level 74/41/98), Restoration (Healing/Purify(+1)) (Level 91/56), Alteration (Level 35), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/10), Persuasion(+1) (Level 47), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 48), One Handed (Level 93), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim (Fade), & Su (Air)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Dragonstone, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Glass Sword, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Garnet, Sapphire, Ruby, & Dawnbreaker
2x Potion Of Ultimate Magicka, Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), & Elven Sword
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
4x Potions of Minor Magicka, Spider Eggs, & Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
8x Iron Arrows, Ancient Nord Arrows, & Black Soul Gems (Filled)
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 74.92 KG / 515 KG
Septims: 77,555