Chapter 20: A Perfectly Quiet Night (R-18) — Ver. 1.0
Lydia sits on top of me, relishing in the carnal lust between us, a wide grin on her face. She looks at me with both excitation and expectation in her eyes. She pulls her tunic off, her bare perky breasts now exposed, easily between B-cups to C-cup sized breasts, which I grab and squeeze. She grinds her vagina on my crotch, and pulls my head into a deep kiss with both arms. She holds me to her mouth for what must be ten minutes, only allowing either of us a gasp of air every couple dozen seconds.
My cock starts to rise up in my pants, to which Lydia lets go of my mouth and smiles to, only for her to pull my tunic off, then immediately get back to kissing me. She pulls off my pants and loincloth, and reaches for my cock. While she starts to give me a handjob, I pull away from her mouth, and travel downward, trailing kisses down her lips to her chin, then her neck. Lydia tilts her head upwards, and pushes against the furs under us with her knees.
My hands latch onto her ass cheeks and I start to squeeze them tightly, rubbing them everywhere. My mouth falls further, from kissing her neck, to kissing her collarbone, to kissing her breasts. I suck on her upward-pointing nipples and she starts to moan quietly. With my right hand, I change from squeezing her ass to fingering her pussy, making her moan even louder.
First one finger goes inside, then, when she gets wetter, a second. I suck on her nipples the entire time.
Lydia looks down from above me with a... loving face? It could've been more lustful than loving, but I know she's trying to make herself forget what's happened earlier by well,... having me fuck it right out of her. Granted, it could've also have been the sexual tension between us that finally just snapped, and I probably certainly didn't help, with kissing her.
Lydia's passionate moans soon reach a climax, and she cums onto my thighs, which are now soaking wet. She falls backwards, and I bend forwards, moving to catch her. I lay her back flat on the mat. She spreads her legs, and allows me in between them. She stares deep into my eyes, looking to me again, and asks if I want to put it inside.
I play dumb, with a sly smirk on my face, "Oh? Put what? What do you want me to put inside?"
Lydia looks away and turns red. "Oh... By Dibella... You're truly wanting me to say *that*?!"
I smile softly, "Yup."
"Urgh, fine. Put your dick inside my hole." Her ears twitch and she squeezes her eyes shut. My heart pounds even harder as I watch her cute reactions.
Having had sex before, I'm not burdened with not knowing where to put my cock, allowing me to say with good precision that Lydia has a very nice pussy.
"It shall be done." I take my cock and rub it against her vagina, stimulating her even more, before slowly putting it in. Lydia moans as I delve further inside her. First the head of my dick disappears inside her, then the first quarter, and I feel her hymen blocking me.
I look down to her, where she's looking at me with expectation, silently questioning if have her permission to go further. She nods, and I go further inside.
She lets out a small gasp of pain, and blood leaks out. I wait a few seconds, until Lydia nods, letting me know that I can move.
I move slowly at first, but when I get into a rhythm, I start getting faster, and faster. The wet slaps of my thighs against Lydia's and her moans aren't especially loud, nor do they echo, but they still give the tent a certain... Ambience, only encouraging either of us to go further, to go faster, and they're making me even harder.
After a few minutes, I feel like I'm ready to cum. Lydia's moans just keep spurring me on to continue though, reinforcing the thought that I have to tell her–
"Lydia!" I grunt out, still thrusting. "I'm about to–...!"
"Ahn! Ahn! Pull out!" She cries out, moaning, "Ahn! Today's not sa–... Aaaahhhnnn!!!"
Her voice cuts out, and she moans loudly as I give one final thrust and rip my dick out of her, at which point I cum onto her stomach. Liquid sprays out of Lydia's pussy as her body twitches.
Her head falls to the floor, and her cute, soft, delicious pink mouth hangs wide open, moans trying to come out. I crawl over her spasming body, and give her a rough kiss.
My tongue slides down hers, rubbing against her teeth, and tasting her even more. Her tongue comes to life as she feels my tongue and it digs into my mouth just as much as mine is digging into hers. The lust between us has not dropped in intensity; rather, it's only increased. I take my mouth away from hers, and Lydia breathes deeply. This is probably the first full breath of air she's gotten in the last few minutes. After she starts to breathe normally once again, her body stops twitching, and she wipes off my cum with a cloth and some snow.
The snow steams when it comes into contact with her body, and after she wipes it off, she has me lie down on my back. I thought she was going to ride my dick, but instead... She wraps her arms around my neck, and holds me close from above.
She's lying on top of me, not like we're having sex, but more like lovers, resting on top of each other after a long day of work.
"I promise it's not because I'm tired, and it's not because of your performance." She starts, with a worried look on her face. "On the contrary, you... You were amazing and you did... Really well." Her mouth shows a lustful smirk, but she turns more serious, her mouth hardening into a flat line, and her eyes dead set onto holding my gaze.
"I just... I had to get *that* off of my mind. I'm sorry I used you, but..." She nibbles on her thumb. "Shor's bones! I can't explain how I feel right now. Give me a few seconds. I need to figure it out."
I stare her large green eyes. Her high cheekbones, and her pale skin, shadowed by the flickering light from the lantern. Damn! She's so cute. I wonder... What would Lydia look like wearing clothes from my world? I'm sure she'd look great. She's beautiful any time of the day.
Lydia bites her thumb, and whispers a bunch of things to herself, then eventually looks up to me again.
"Okay... I think I know what to say now. I mean how to say it. First, I want to make something clear," she starts, holding my cheeks in her palms, and looking away shyly. She blushes, and smiles softly. "I love you. I love you so much, it hurts and then more. I can't stop loving you, and I don't know exactly what it is. Maybe it's everything about you. Your face, your hair, the way you act, the way you present yourself. Your goals and ambitions, the person you're trying to become. I... I needed to tell you that. Even you don't love me. Even if you take other lovers."
I nod while she talks, but my mind races.
She loves me? That's fucking awesome. No, wait. What am I thinking? I have to kill Alduin! What about sticking to the mission, staying on the plans, focusing in on the target? Lord, have mercy. I can't make up my mind. I don't want to deny Lydia, but I'm afraid of what will happen if I accept her.
"Second," She continues, taking a hand off of my face, and running it through her black hair. "What I saw today was terrible, and I don't know if I'll ever truly get over it. I'm sorry for getting mad at you for not warning me before I could see it. I climbed down before you ever had a chance to, so that was on me."
I wasn't expecting this, especially not after a lovemaking session. I'm glad she's letting her worries out on me.
"Third." She focuses her eyes back on me again. "I want to have more sex with you, but not tonight. Tonight, I just want you to listen. I need you to hear how I feel, and what I want to feel. Okay?"
"That's perfectly fine with me." I say, nodding. There is such a thing as self-control in this world. I need to stay in control of myself. Things like earlier, like the fact that I unintentionally kissed Lydia earlier, cannot go unguarded against. I must stand ready, against both others and myself. An impregnable fortress falls apart from the damage on the inside, not the out.
With that in mind, Lydia and I get into a bedroll together, and she lies on top of me, with the small of her back on my stomach. Her head is beside mine, but since she's shorter, her feet are at my shins. I wrap my arms around her waist lightly, the furs above her. Outside, the wind starts to howl.
Lydia starts talking again.
"I want to explain how I feel right now. I feel so warm in your arms, so... protected, that my heart is racing, and my body is so heated that I feel like if I went outside right now, I wouldn't even freeze. I think it's because of how much I love you. You're the first person I've ever felt this way for, in my entire life..."
"I... haven't had a whole lot of friends growing up, which probably doesn't help how I feel about you. That's a lie. I didn't have any, at all. All the ones that could've been my friends eventually left, but I think it might've been my fault. I get... Hmmm... Obsessed to things, and when I get obsessed, I can't stop thinking about them. I have to know everything about them. Every little detail, every smallest thing I can find out about it. I used to think that you were my newest obsession, but I was wrong. I was in love with you. Mara's tears! I don't mean that creepy or disgusting kind of obsessed, by the way. Not the kind that would kill anyone you like with that 'if I can't have him, no one can' mentality! I just mean like a severe interest in."
She rolls over and faces me, with a scared look on her face. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..."
"No! No, you're fine. I think I know what you mean." I say, quieting her. She starts to slide off of my body. I quickly stop her from falling off of me. I don't want the feeling of her naked body on top of mine to stop.
"Are you sure?" She asks me, still worried. "If you start to think I'm creepy, I'll leave you alone."
"Yes, I'm sure." I confirm my previous statement.
"Okay... Please keep listening, then." She continues. "I think that I never know what to say, or how to act around you because of how I grew up. I didn't really talk to a whole lot of people growing up, so I'm a bit socially awkward."
"You didn't seem that way when we had that date two or three days ago?"
Lydia snorts, before giggling. "I didn't mean to snort, but you have no idea what was going on in my head during that date. I was so scared that I might say something I didn't intend to, or you might react in a way I didn't know how to deal with. That's why I got blackout drunk."
"Oh." That... would make a lot of sense.
Lydia sighs, before turning her head and giving me a kiss on the cheek.
"That's half of what I wanted to talk about, but there is are a couple things... When I saw all those... bodies and remains, it reminded me of the fact that we're still only human, and that stronger beasts exist, and will always exist, no matter what we do. I'm scared of losing you, which is why I want to know how you feel about me as soon as possible."
"I know I'm your housecarl, but I can't help but be attracted to you. If you do intend on accepting me, how are we supposed to balance our relationship versus our duties?"
"Hmmm... Were I to accept you, would you be put into trouble with the Jarl?" I have to ask before I answer her feelings.
"No. I think..." She smiles happily. "I'm pretty sure Irileth may have had illicit relations with the Jarl, once or twice... Or several dozen times. Her moans are, well, loud."
I laugh at this. It's been theorized by many that they were most likely fucking behind closed doors, but to have it confirmed...
"Wait, what happened to Balgruuf's wife, then? Doesn't he have three kids?" A question has been raised.
Lydia looks at me with an anxious look on her face, and says seriously, "I don't know if I should tell you this, but if anyone asks..."
"I'll keep quiet and pretend I never knew, so...?" I finish her statement.
"A little bird told me that there was a murder around 12 years ago. The victims were the Jarl's wife and concubine. The culprit? The Jarl himself, supposedly. But it wasn't entirely of his own will that he killed her. It was an ancient blade, a sword made in the style of an ancient people, that 'encouraged' him to kill her. If I remember right, it was in the throne room. An adventurer found the sword, and brought it to the Jarl, saying it was cursed. Voices spoke to him, and in the voices, the tongue of a Daedric Prince. The people who know, say it was Mephala. The Prince of Lies, Deceit, and Betrayal. Balgruuf was tempted to touch the Blade, by the Blade, and it made him fly into a rage, killing both his concubine, and his wife. An alternative story said it was the wife who touched the Blade, out of curiosity, envy. The second continues by saying that the Blade took root in her mind and ate at her, and it forced her to kill the Jarl's concubine, and attack the Jarl, who ended up being the one... putting her down."
"In both stories, the Jarl ends up killing his wife. That seems to be fact. However, the events leading up to the event differ. After... whatever... happened, the weapon was sealed, never to be seen, or found, again."
I mull it over for a few seconds after she says that, and asks, "Which do you believe?"
"Me?" She asks, frowning. "I don't think it matters. In the end, his wife and concubine are dead, the sword is sealed away, and the dead are remaining that way... What about you?"
"Hmm... I'll have to agree with you. I don't think either stories matter. The result is the same, in either case." I don't think I have nearly enough information to make an assumption about the story, so I'd rather not pick a side until I have more information.
"Hmmm. Well, that's okay. You know, I've heard your exploits from all over Dragonsreach, and all over the whole of Whiterun. Did you really clear the entirety of Bleak Falls Barrow?"
"Yeah." I explain. "Well, I had help, from four other people, but I was... Well, to other people, I'd say I was wary of the draugr, and wanted people watching my back, but to tell you the truth, I was afraid of them. I didn't know how powerful one was, at the time. And luckily, I was right for taking the cautious route, and for good reason, too. The Scourge Lord in there was..."
I shiver. "He was strong. Terrifyingly so. If I didn't have the others with me, I'd be dead. He was able to shout, and he could throw me twenty feet with one arm. And that's while defending the attacks from the others. I had two warriors, and two archers. One wielded a greatsword, and the other had a sword and shield. The archers were well-experienced, too."
"That Scourge Lord was capable of withstanding hits from the greatsword with his vambraces and shield, shattered and corroded as they were. He could cast magic, as well. Strong magic. I don't remember exactly what the spell did... But it was powerful. Scary. Goosebumps just from thinking about it."
"I don't know what happened at the end. Someone hit it, it went down, and suddenly, I was on top of it, smashing it's head into the ground with my shield. There was... Not much left of the skull after I stopped. I think that all I saw was... well, red. I know I felt angry. So much rage filled me, that even now, I feel angry. I want to smash it into nothing."
I clench my fists and raise them.
Silence permeated the tent after I finish saying that. Lydia was quiet for a while, breathing quietly and deeply. Then I realize she fell asleep. I'm not mad. The atmosphere is probably perfect for it.
I slide her off of me, (I'm not going to try and do it with a sleeping person), and set her to my left. I then spoon her, with my left arm as her pillow, and my right wrapping around her. The furs above us shift as I turn her. I fix the furs and make it so that we'll be warm no matter what happens.
My head remains on my shoulder, and I watch the light of the lantern flicker back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Eventually, of course, I fall asl-...
...
Above me is a pitless sky, a black abyss, a shadowy hole that stretches on infinitely, in all directions. Scentless and tasteless smoke surrounds me. I'm back in Sithis' realm.
[
"On the contrary. Tonight definitely ended well." I smile, and nod.
[
"What've you got for me tonight?" I ask.
[
"The *what*?!" I exclaim, confused. I have no idea what he just said.
[
"Wha-... So God is real?" I ask.
[
The way Sithis said creator, controller, watcher, and witness make it feel as those are less of positions, and more of names.
[]
"Wait, wha–...?" I barely manage to speak before his presence disappears, and something appears.
A familiar sight appears: a desk, along with a chair. Five books sit atop the desk, each from a school of magic.
I flip through them, and read through them again. Last time I was here, I only learned one spell, but now I can learn the others. Since Sithis made it so that I can't die in here, I can easily practice casting the spells in them with no fear.
These are all novice spells, but I can learn them much easier now that I've had a lot of practice casting spells like Healing Hands, Oakflesh, and Sparks, which aren't too difficult, but present concepts like folding, twisting, heating, sharing, compressing, and extending Magicka.
I soon learn the last four novice spells: Candlelight, Conjure Familiar, and two spells that I've never seen before: an Illusion spell, Alarm, and an Alteration spell, Launch.
Candlelight is an Alteration spell that creates a sphere of glowing energy that emits light. It's bright enough to light up an area around 25 feet in diameter with bright light, but you will become visible to all enemies. It's a very useful spell, as the hallways and catacombs of Nordic crypts are usually dark, and is preferable to carrying a torch as it leaves a hand empty. Casting this spell at a higher level will make it more useful, as you can customize the lighting as much as you want. Brightness, size of the ball, the length of the spell, etc.
Conjure Familiar is a Conjuration spell that summons a spectral wolf from one of the many planes of Oblivion. That's what the game would say, anyways. Useful for combat, but I imagine it could become way more useful in this world than just as a another combat capable creature. In the book I was learning from, more creatures can be summoned than just a wolf, but wolves happen to be most common, as they're captured and trained as guard dogs more often than not. As long as you know the basic shape and skills of a creature, you can summon it. Of course, the larger the creature, the higher the Magicka drain. At higher levels, it will become stronger, and longer-lasting.
Alarm, it seems, is an Illusion spell that designates an area of varying sizes, depending on Magicka used, a location that will mentally notify you when a creature enters, be it alive or dead, hostile or friendly. At higher levels, it can be increased to a massive range and filter what triggers the Alarm.
The last spell, Launch, is an Alteration spell that makes an object I touch, so long as it's smaller than my head, fly. Or rather, be Launched. It will fly at roughly 60-90 miles per hour, depending on Magicka used, in a straight line roughly a hundred feet, at which point it will fall. At higher levels, I can control the accuracy better, change trajectories midflight, Launch bigger objects, increase the speeds reached, and increase the range before the object starts to fall. This is clearly a dangerous spell that I will abuse to no end.
That being said, I proceed to cast Candlelight in this shadowy realm. My spell shines light on the darkness, revealing... A glossy, black floor, the same shade as ebony.
So, basically, this spell is useless in here. Not much really changes. I wait for my Magicka to regenerate, and I cast Conjure Familiar, imagining the beast I summon to be a cat instead. Wolves... I don't like wolves. Don't have very good memories with wolves.
A large, spherical purple and black portal appears, and when it closes in an implosion, a small, translucent blue cat is sitting on the ground. It's tail weaves back and forth, and it stands up and walks to me. It walks between my legs, lifting it's head, just like a normal cat would. I reach down to pet it, and it bobs it's small head into my head, whacking my hand, before tilting it's head into my hand and rubbing it.
I pick it up, lifting it from just behind it's front legs, and it's legs stick out. It's practically weightless, but there is some tangible softness to it's presence.
"Mrreow?" It tilts it's head at me. It's ears twitch softly, and it pads at my chest with it's front legs.
I pull it close, and set it on my shoulder. It stands and then settles down, sitting on me. The Magicka drain coming from this cat is practically negligible, which makes sense, in consideration with it's size. It's maybe less than half of a foot tall, so I'd be surprised if the Magicka drain was much more than that. In short, my regeneration rate made the drain almost nothing. My Magicka will run out eventually, though, but at the rate this cat is making it drain, that wouldn't happen for weeks.
The cat rubs it's head on mine as I ready my hands and cast Alarm. A three-dimensional mental map of the area appears when I shut my eyes, showing the various objects in a 25'x 25'x 25' area. Me, the cat on my shoulder, and the chair, desk, and books appear on the map. Objects are given silhouettes of thin blue-green lines. The living object, i.e. me, appears as a golden silhouette. The cat, undead but friendly appears as a red silhouette tinged with blue on the outlines. If I so wish, a legend appears on the side of the map, allowing me to differentiate silhouettes easier.
Eventually, though, I get the feeling that I can't stay here much longer. I haven't yet tested Launch though, regretfully. Oh, well...
...
I awaken to find that Lydia is asleep still. How strange. I was almost expecting her to be awake.
Suddenly a light weight from above lands on my chest. It's my summoned Familiar. The cute cat head looks at me with a surprised look on it's face. I don't think it was expecting to suddenly to be transferred to this dimension, because I definitely wasn't expecting it to be. A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.
It bounces on my chest, before jumping down. It prowls around the tent, and I crawl out of the bedroll carefully, to make sure that Lydia's not woken up by me. I grab my spectral cat, and set it on top of my shoulder again. It starts to purr, and I head to where my clothes and armor lie on the ground. I pick them up and put them on.
I then grab food out from my backpack for a cold breakfast for Lydia and I, and check on the weather outside the tent, letting in a cold breeze. A quick check indicates that it's clear weather now, but very cold. I go to wake up Lydia, and lightly shake her shoulder.
When she finally opens her eyes, I say, "Time to wake up, sweetcheeks, we gotta keep climbing."
She sits up, her hair in a mess. She squints at me, then looks above me.
"Mmmm? Wazzat on your shoulder?" Lydia asks, yawning.
"Mrreow?" My Familiar tilts it's head again.
Lydia shivers. "Oh, it's cold out."
"Yep," I say, grabbing an apple, "But the storm's over. It's clear out. I'll check on the horses. You get up, dressed, and ready. 'kay?"
"Mm-hmm." She nods. "Oh, we gotta hurry up with this mountain. I can't wait to get back to a place where I can actually bathe."
"Never know. Greybeards might have a bath up there." I suggest, before walking outside. The cold of the mountain smacks me once again and I walk out and around, to where the horses are.
Covered in a layer of snow, our horses sit on the ground, breathing heavily. Myrmidon stands when he sees me, and shakes his body, throwing all the snow off, almost like a dog. Daryon, on the other hand, just stares at me as I walk up.
"Nice, Myr! Good job." I applaud my horse, before frowning. "Is it fine if I call you Myr? I dunno. Well, whatever."
"You cold, buddy? Sorry I didn't have an actual horse blanket. If I did, you'd probably be much warmer." I grab my horse brush, and start cleaning Myrmidon's fur. Myr's head comes around, looking at my shoulder. He opens his mouth wide, focusing on my Familiar.
"Oi! No eating my Familiar!" I lightly slap Myrmidon's cheek. He turns his head back to the front and whinnies.
"What, didn't you eat the feed I put out yesterday?" I ask him.
Myr shakes his head, almost as if he knows what I was saying. I check the feed. A thin layer of snow decorates the inside of the bag, probably from the storm. I pick some out of the bag, and I realize why he didn't eat it. It's molded, likely from the snow.
I sigh, and head back inside. Lydia's fully dressed now, and is currently fixing her hair.
"How're the horses?" She asks.
"Hungry. They haven't eaten because the feed's molded. I'll give them a couple apples and carrots."
"Oh, no, that's terrible. Here, I'll feed them, you put away our bedrolls and the tent." Lydia shakes her head, finished fixing it up, and takes some food from my backpack.
"Yes, ma'am." I dip my head, and make way for her to pass.
She walks by me with a light smile, scratches my Familiar's head, which it purrs to, and she gives me a kiss on the cheek before walking out.
I crack my fingers, and get to work. I roll up the furs, and reattach them to the backpacks, which takes the whole of maybe two minutes. For the tent, I remove the stakes, and flip the leather tarpaulin off of it's frame. I fold it up, as neatly as possible, but it could still use some work.
I take the lantern Lydia used over the night, and blow it out, attaching it to her backpack. I swing my backpack on my back and pick up Lydia's, to give to her. When I finish doing all that, I check to see what she's doing, only to find her playing with Daryon and Myrmidon.
"Hey! Myr! The hell are you doing, man? You're a warrior, remember? Where's your war face?" I call out to him, shaking my empty fist.
He raises his head, widens his eyes when he sees me, and steps away from Lydia. He whinnies loudly, and picks his front left hoof and flicks it at Lydia, as if throwing her under a bus and making her take the blame.
Upon hearing my voice, Lydia turns around, a happy look on her face.
"Not my fault he likes me more than you." She says proudly, before cackling like an old hag. She puts her hands at her sides, and cackles some more.
"I won't kiss you again." I threaten, pointing a finger at her.
"I'm sorry. It's his fault." She immediately blames Myrmidon, pointing at him with a carrot in her hand.
He whinnies again, and tries snapping at the carrot, which Lydia manages to snatch back before he could take a bite.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure," I say sarcastically, walking forward. I reach for the carrot in Lydia's hands, holding out her backpack, saying, "Let's trade."
She complies and I toss it at Myr. He catches it midair and chomps it in half. I grab his reins, and swing myself up into his back. It seems Lydia's already taken the furs and other tent off the horses, and got them ready to be put away, which she does immediately. She's also readied their saddles and bridles for riding.
"Good job, boy. Now, let's climb the rest of this mountain, and meet the Greybeards, yeah?" I say, rubbing his mane. Myr dips his head. I tap his sides, and we get climbing, Lydia following on Daryon.
The snow crunches loudly in the bright morning light, and we can see out for miles upon miles out. Eventually we make a turn on the trail to the peak, and I'm able to see the whole of Whiterun, in all it's splendid glory.
We stop for a minute when we see it. The view is incredible, to say the least. Far beyond Whiterun to the west, we can see a band of wild stallions and bucks running and bounding through the fields of unrestrained grass. Beyond them, a beautiful forest, filled to the brim with wildlife, and in a valley between the hills, there's a camp Giants call home. The mammoths they tend to are visible from here. To the right of them, in the north, saber cats are visible hunting a wild mammoth. And just left of the Giant camp, to the south, where the main road travels...
Ah, shite. A war-torn battlefield, black with the ashes of fire. Bodies lay everywhere, and tiny specks fall to the ground in flames, explosions, and flashes of frost. Magic spells flash through the air. We can't hear the combat, but we can see it occur.
Fireballs fly into the sky, and small waves of flaming red specks are summoned from black portals. Flame atronachs. Tiny, thin blue lines fly from one end of the field to the other. Occasionally, blue lights swirl around small corpses, and they float in the air, then back fall to the ground, becoming undead. Orange and yellow lights of healing spells light up the rears of the far west side and far east sides of the fields, and magical artillery flashes in the sky.
Pillars from the ground rise and fall, and waves of energy ripple out from epicenters. Bodies fly into the sky, and creatures burst the battlefield, too small to tell from here, but clearly dangerous. Waves of red and blue occasionally spike their color's into each other's opposing sides, and send up minor beacons of light, barely visible at this distance.
Something flies into the battlefield. A dragon. Small from this distance, it's likely causing an extraordinary amount of damage. Gouts of flame spit from it's mouth, and lines of havoc and destruction become visible in the battlefield.
What are they even fighting for? There are no forts in that field. There are no castles. There is nothing of value. Everything is being destroyed. Why are they fighting there? Why...? Why do they feel the need to kill each other?
A hand touches my shoulder. I turn, and it'd Lydia. She shakes her head. She's right. We need to keep moving. People are dying unnecessarily. I need to become a beacon, a guiding light. If I don't... Well, I'd rather not think about that.
We head up to the Sixth Emblem. No candles burn at this one, nor are there any offerings.
"With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer; Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice; Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World."
Lydia prays again, and this time, so do I.
I pray for the dead, the dying, the forgotten. The hopeful, the hopeless, and the wishes of the lost. I pray for the victims of this war, and it's heroes. The people that lost everything. I pray that they make it to their afterlife, they be raised, and remembered, as the people of this world can be. I want to help the victims, and show them the way. I pray for the good in this world to not be forgotten, and that if, by some miracle, I accomplish my goal, I be granted one last request: to see my friends again. That's something that a lot of people in this world, and in this war, don't have, and won't. It's okay to be at least a little bit selfish, right?
I pray again, but this time, for the arrogant, the fools, the greed-crazed nobles that wanted this war. The Thalmor, and their contributors. I pray for the corrupt and the soulless, the monsters and the predators. I pray I become their hunter, their pursuer, their destroyer, their punisher. I'll become a monster, if only to serve justice those fit and deserving.
Justice is blind, not heartless, though. I will spare those that seek true redemption, whether it be in the eyes of the Aedra, or in the eyes of society.
I pray not to the Aedra, nor the Daedra, not even the Celestials. I simply pray to whoever's listening.
After praying, we get back onto our horses, and ride up to the Seventh Emblem. Unlike the last two times, however, there's someone here, with a beast lying down behind him.
It's a Breton man meditating next to a sabre cat in front of the etched tablet. The saddle on the back of the sabre cat makes evident the fact that the beast is a mount. The sabre cat stands up and growls lightly when it sees us approach.
My Familiar jumps off of my shoulder, runs up and off Myr's head, continues up to the sabre cat, and bounds back and forth between it's legs until it eventually climbs it's way on top of the sabre cat's head.
The sabre cat opens it's mouth and it speaks in a deep voice, definitely male.
"Emeric. People approach."
I'd have fallen backwards in surprise and fear, but my saddle prevents that, thankfully. I was definitely caught off-guard, though.
Thinking about it now though, it's clear that the creature I thought to be a beast, a sabre cat, was actually a Senche-Raht, a species of Khajiit that looks a lot like a sabre cat. The upturned ears and much larger head indicate the fact that it's a Senche-Raht. There are seventeen species of Khajiit, but it gets weird, so I'm not gonna explain it.
This Senche-Raht in particular however, has a peculiar coat – that of a snow leopard, one fit for this mountain. It also has a large mane, like that of a lion, the same snow white of it's coat.
The man meditates for another few seconds, before turning, bowing, and kneeling before me. His straight brown hair, wrapped into a ponytail, waves around as he moves.
He stood at about 5'10", with straight brown hair, and silver eyes, (pupil, not sclera). His black steel armor shines with the light of a forgotten age, of knights, chivalry, primal magic, and forbidden sorcery. Silver stakes and small vials fill a bandolier he wears over his armor. He wields a crossbow at his side, an axe and shield at his back, and a sword on his waist. I think he's the one who killed the troll.
"My lord. The Beldama witches' coven sends their greetings."
"The who sends their what? I... don't know any witches..?" I ask. My confusion must be visible. I'm frowning, and I have no idea what he's talking about
The man stops bowing and stands up in front of me, his face also frowning.
"I apologize. Let me introduce myself. My name is Emeric Windstrom. I am a witch hunter. I have recently received a message, from good witches, to wait here for a man and a woman riding horses. One horse will be black as night, and taller than a man, the other will be small, and golden. The man will be a tall Nord, clear in visage and in my blood, returning to claim a birthright. That is all the information I was given. An owl was said to be sent to you an hour ago."
"Hold on, you say you're a witch hunter, but then immediately say you know good witches. How can you be so sure that those witches actually good?"
"Ah, yes. I did hunt them, at first, when I heard talk of witches about in some of the towns in Glenumbra, but after tracking them down, and seeing them myself, I came to the conclusion that they were doing no harm to the townspeople and surrounding areas. Of course, I still hunt other witches."
"I see." I nod, and focus back on the Seventh Emblem, nodding to it. "Mind if we, uh...?"
"Hmm? Oh! My apologies. Let me get out of your way." Emeric moves and his mount backs up as well. We ride forward, and pray at the Emblem.
"The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled; Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation; To understand how Strong Voices could fail."
After praying, we remount our horses, and ride up to the Eighth Emblem, with Emeric following on his Senche-Raht, after I suggest that we talk when we get to High Hrothgar. Here we come up upon two switchbacks, and the whole while, Emeric wouldn't stop talking. After the first two minutes I tuned him out, but Lydia was respectfully pretending that she was listening.
"And it was there that I learned..."
"That was the day I..."
"And it was at the moment that he knew..."
Finally, even his mount had enough. Very word that the Senche-Raht spoke was clear, exact, and was meant to convey message, and no more.
"Emeric. It would seem. They do not care. For that story. Perhaps it would be better to remain silent."
"Hmmm... I suppose. But I think if I remain silent, I might feel the cold once again. Talking distracts me, makes me feel warm." Emeric's accent made it sound, well, not condescending, just unaware of his surroundings.
"Oh? Well. It makes his. Head hurt. Stop talking. Please."
"Oh... My apologies. You see, I've got a problem where–..." Emeric tries to continue speaking.
"Emeric! Silence!" The Senche-Raht had enough.
The rest of the ride to the next etched tablet was filled with blessed silence, except for the crunching of snow.
We finally reach the Eighth Emblem, and have lunch there, sitting and eating in front of the tablet. Emeric talks to the Senche-Raht he was riding, and my Familiar plays with the horses. Meanwhile, I read the etched tablet.
The inscription on the tablet reads, "Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned; The 17 disputants could not shout Him down; Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World."
The message, as per usual, matters little to me, so I look out from our perch on the mountain, far from the mortal worries of the ground level. Or that's what it feels like, anyways.
From our position on the mountain, we can see far out to the northeastern to southeastern reaches of Skyrim, from Winterhold to Riften, a whole of hundreds of miles. From Riften to the southeast, lies the perpetually orange forest, seemingly locked in a permanent season of autumn.
Similarly, to Winterhold in the northeast, a perpetual winter and the core of "Skyrim's tundras", as they're commonly known is obvious. In the white fields, I can't tell what's going on down there in the slightest.
In between the two is a massive area, full of sulfurous pools of water, like in the Yellowstone National Park. Geysers and massive cracks in the ground are everywhere the sulfur pools aren't, and the flora attempting to grow there is composed entirely of dead and dying trees. Scorched lines of earth indicate the presence of yet another dragon recently brought from beyond the grave. Animals, small specks from here, occasionally cross into the sulfur fields and nearly immediately die, from falling into a scalding hot sulfur pool, walking into a steaming geyser, or drinking from the acidic and poisoned waters of streams in the area.
After eating, we climb even higher, and the air pressure significantly drops. We won't be riding the horses, and Senche-Raht, I suppose, for Emeric, for very much longer, so we get off of them.
"Maybe... This... Will... Shut... You... Up..." The Senche-Raht grumbles, straining to breathe. The horses and Senche will have trouble breathing until we come back down because of their massive lungs and bodies. This has been happening for the last hour, already, but for the rest of us, we'll be fine for...
I sway. Oh, boy. I'm getting lightheaded.
"This... Is... Gonna be a bit... d-dangerous." I slur out. I stumble, and fall to my knees. "G-gimme a shecond... I'll be... Fine..."
Everyone else is summoning similar symptoms, from the horses, who sat down, and are refusing to get back up, to the Senche-Raht, who's doing the same, to Lydia and Emeric who have fallen face down into the snow.
I think... I think we might be in a bit of trouble.
My breathing accelerates and I start to hyperventilate, my breath getting faster and faster as every second passes. Black spots in my vision start appearing and grow larger, and I start to fall unconscious, my head pounding with waves of pain.
My vision finally turns black, and my mind goes blank.
------------------
Funds: 1,004 septims
Weapons:
💠 - Orcish Sword of Paralysis
💠 - Blade of Whiterun (Ebony longsword, 3rd Era, 10 points Frost damage/5 to Stamina/ slow)
💠 - Quicksilver Throwing Knives {x5}
💠 - Nordic Daggers {x2}
- Elven Bow, Unstrung {x12 Elven Arrows, 1x Ayleid Arrow}
- Orcish Sword
Apparel:
💠 - Refurbished Steel Helm (15% more armor)
💠 - Steel Armor (HP Regen. Injury Heal Rate 25%↑, Light Wound Heal 50%↑)
💠 - Spiked Steel Gauntlets (+20 extra H2H damage)
💠 - Refitted Steel Boots (15% more armor)
💠 - Custom Quicksilver buckler (18% more armor)
💠 - Winter Cloak (20% Cold Resistance)
💠 - Snow Bear Greatcloak (50% Cold Resistance)
- Shield of the Dragonslayer (Kite, 40% Fire Resistance)
Potions:
- Mysterious Potion {x4}
Food:
- Basket of Fruits and Vegetables; {onions x1, apples x2, leeks x1, potatoes x2, head of cabbage x1, carrots x2, loaves of bread x1}
Books:
- Stack of Stormcloak notes and letters to family {x15}
- Letter to Thrynn & Torturer's Ring
- Spell Tome: Sparks
- Spell Tome: Oakflesh
Scrolls:
- Scroll of Blizzard
Supplies:
- Backpack
- Bedroll / Mountain Bedroll
- Cooking pan
- Waterskin
- Metal Bowl
- Torches {x3}
- Tent
- Pitons
- Climbing harness
- Rope (200 ft.)
- Hiking Staves {x2}
- Ice Picks {x2}
- Bar of Soap
Miscellaneous:
- Lockpicks {x1}
- Vial for Mysterious Potion
- Golden Claw
- Potion bottle remains
- Klimmek's Supplies