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Rolling his shoulders, the guard settled his armor more comfortably onto himself. He scanned the forest, and saw again the quick flash of fur. Whoever was out there didn’t know that he was well aware of their presence. He laid a casual hand on his ax, but instincts from years at this post told him there wasn’t a threat.

He glanced skyward, enjoying the warm day, a respite from the cold autumn. He thought there was only one person out there, and he was content to wait for their move.

Clouds passed, the sun rose a little higher, and finally, a fur-clad woman stepped out from her cover. A hunter, he judged, with furs bundled on her back. He noticed that she didn’t have a bow or quiver, but a hatchet and knife at her waist. She approached, slow, quiet steps, her body half turned; wariness in her skittish eyes.

Deciding that she wasn’t a threat if he didn’t present himself as one, he relaxed his stance; glad to take the weight off his bad knee. He even offered her a smile, and greeted her; “New to Falkreath?” He was sure he’d never seen her before.

A quick jerk of her head, frost eyes darting through the gate then back to him.

“You’ll probably want to sell your furs over at Gray Pine Goods, and if you’re looking to stay the night, Valga over at Dead Man’s Drink has clean beds and a good bowl of stew, if you don’t ask what’s in it.” He wasn’t sure whether she appreciated the joke; she just stared. His smile started to fade, then he saw the subtle quirk of her mouth. She nodded at him again, slower, relaxing the tension in her posture.

“Gratitude,” she said, her voice husky with disuse, the word unsure on her lips.

He returned her nod, watching her walk into the town. He leaned against the timber wall, settling into an easy stance; he still had hours before he could be relieved of duty.



The walls bothered me. Like being in a cage, but with the falseness of space. And all the buildings and sounds, so strange, that I could just walk in here unquestioned. Horem would be raiding; blood and smoke everywhere. I was welcomed, and stared at townsfolk.

The guard said I could trade, but of the signs I saw, I wasn’t sure which one was the store. Letters across the painted wood were nothing to me. But one showed scales, and I’d seem Horem weigh out coins on those before dolling them out to the men.

The door opened with a creak, and I kept expecting to be yelled at, thrown from the place. But the Nord greeted me, too, and I relaxed. Or tried to.

I didn’t know how to do this, trade, and just laid the pelts on the counter. Opening my pack, I pulled out antlers and fangs and claws, and looked at him. He stared back, waiting, and I knew I was ‘supposed to say something. But what? I waited.

Sighing, he began going through the furs and hides. I watched him sketch symbols onto a scrap of parchment, dark dust coating his fingers. I remember that I needed things, too, and told him so: a cooking pot, salt, tinderbox. He gave an absent nod, and put them on the counter. He tallied the numbers, then looked at me. “Fifty for the lot, less what you’re buying – I’ll give you thirty-five.”

Thirty-five was more than I had – anything was more than I had. That was three tens and five, I recalled that much. I’d be happy with it, and started to open my mouth to accept when I noticed his fidgety, shifty eyes.

I didn’t know [&@%!] about what I was owed, but I knew a liar.

I reached out my hand, and he started to do the same, to shake it or something, I suppose. I grabbed his arm and yanked, sprawling him belly over the counter, dagger tip to the back of his neck.

“Don’t cheat me,” I growled into his ear.

“Ok, ok! I can do fifty! By the Eight, don’t hurt me!” he squawked.

I thought it over; decided it weren’t enough for the trouble he was causing. Flipped him over and laid the knife across his belly. “I’ll gut you,” I told him. Meant it, too; wouldn’t bother me none to do it, either.
He shook, then, sweat making my grip slick. “Seventy!”

I released him, even helped him off the counter, though I kept my grip on the knife. Fumbling, he scooped coins into a purse. Seeing his fear-smelling it- my stomach quivered.

Was I just like Horem? Fear making men give me what I wanted? Had the man cheated me, or just nervous cause of me?

I took the purse, put the new gear away, heard his mutter about guards. Walked to the door, turned, and tossed the knife I’d swiped from his belt.

It quivered on the wall behind him as I let the door slam behind me.

Outside, the snow and pine washed away the stink of fear. My stomach’s quivering settled into hunger, reminding me of how long since I’d eaten, and I went to the other sign, a hearth its picture.

Opening the door, smoke and roasting meats swept over me; my eyes watered, and I coughed, hacking at the smoke. Guardsteps behind me pushed me further in; a few coming in for a meal, their laughter and chatter echoing in the timber hall. My throat clenched, the scents and the sounds and the too-small room choking me more than the smoke.

My vision shifted, and the roof and walls became a cave, the guards bandits; a good haul and their desire for bloodsport.

It was a struggle not to flee, to run, but I refused to give in to such a stupid thing. This wasn’t a cave, these weren’t bandits, and I needed food. I gulped in air, the smoke settling around the fire and leaving me with a clean pocket to breathe from.

The innkeep looked at me strange, but called out an offer of food. Clenching my fists against this unreasoning fear – I was not in a cage, so why did I feel like I was suffocating? – I approached and nodded at her offer.

“Need a room, too,” I bit out. The beast inside me wanted clean air and open sky, but I was tired of being cold. “Don’t need much space – just somewhere to sleep,” I added. I’d even take a corner of the floor.
Wood was better than the dirt and stone outside.

She set a steaming bowl and some bread in front of me, a mug of dark liquid I guessed at being ale, and some bread. Gave me a price, and I slid forward the coins. From her expression, there might have been too many, but my purse didn’t look too emptied by it, so I didn’t care much. Tried hard not to wolf down the meal, but regardless of what the outside guard had said, the stew was good.

Or maybe I was just hungry.

Behind me, I heard the guards joking with one another, and I kept an eye on them; I didn’t think the trader would say anything, but I didn’t want to sleep in a cell, either. I sopped up the last of the stew with the bread before taking a careful sip of the mug. It didn’t have a strong taste to it, wasn’t going to get me even a touch dizzy, and I drained it.

Reaching into my pack, I pulled out my waterskin as the innkeep returned with a key. “Can you fill this?” The river water, while cool and crisp at a first swallow, had turned stagnant after a time; boiled would last longer.

“Aye. Here’s for your room,” she said, trading the skin for the key. “Twenty gold for both; yours is over there,” she nodded at one of the rooms. I gaped at it; a whole room? I didn’t need it, wasn’t concerned with privacy, but the laughter of the guards was turning loud, so maybe it might be quieter. I added the coins to the counter, and frowned. That had dented my purse, and I’d hoped to see about getting something deadlier than my knife. I thought I’d seen a blacksmith further in town.

I stifled a yawn, and decided that I’d head out into the wilds after I slept.

In the room itself, I stopped and stared at the bed. Was that for me? I sat on it, and couldn’t stop the smile from crossing my face. This was for me!

I unshouldered my pack, tossed it onto the floor along with my hatchet. Slid the knife under the pillow and laid back. I should undress, I knew, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up. This felt nice. Comfortable. It was warm, and a woman started to sing in the hall of the inn.

My eyes drifted shut, and for once, I didn’t feel unsafe falling asleep.

Traveling south from Windhelm, Ursula and Stenvar were anxious to get to Rorikstead. Along the way they discussed all the possibilities. How would Mralki take the intrusion? What would Erik do when he sees his half-sister for the first time? Ursula expressed her fears to Stenvar about how this new brother may change her and the family in Windhelm.

On the road ahead, the travelers saw a stranger, someone with a black robe and glowing eyes. Ursula reached for her weapon and cast a flesh spell. You can never be too cautious with a stranger on the road, Ursula thought. Stenvar was a few steps behind. Riding Ulfric’s horse, Stag, Ursula could see down the road past the stranger.

Up ahead Ursula saw two other dark animals charging toward them. The horse whinnied, and reared up. Ursula was almost thrown. She yelled to Stenvar behind her, “Lookout!” Stenvar was ready with his sword and shield as the black dog went for his throat.

“What in Oblivion!” Stenvar raised his shield and blocked the hideous creature’s teeth. Something went flying in the saliva, a bloody tooth. Ursula reached Stenvar and the three of them fought the dog. Ursula was still on her mount and delivered a deadly blow down on the beast, decapitating it.

The horse shrieked as it was having the life drained from it by the stranger, a hideous vampire. Ursula dismounted and ran for the vampire and the other hound, Stenvar right behind her. Ursula engaged her dragon aspect spell, and restored Stenvar’s health as they both continued the fight. Stag was nearly dead and now unable to fight.

The second dog-beast was very strong; it took both of the warriors to bring it down.

The vampire was continuing to drain the life from everyone, one after the other. Ursula charged the vampire and hit him hard with her ebony sword of fire. He staggered, and that broke the drain spell. Stenvar hit the vampire straight across the neck and nearly decapitated him.

The vampire tried to heal and Ursula gave him a final blow in the heart with her dagger.

The vampire turned to ash. Stenvar was injured, bleeding. The horse was still breathing but just barely. Ursula was feeling extremely weak; her dragon aspect had protected her again from certain death, and she thanked the gods for that power. Ursula drank a few potions and healed herself.

Ursula asked Stenvar, “Are you alright? Do you need any potions?”

He replied, “I could use a little help, give me what you can, then save that horse!” Ursula complied.

Ulfric’s horse had a bite in his leg, and was nearly drained to death. Ursula administered aid to the horse, and then she reviewed the scene. What a mess. Blood everywhere and two of the ugliest dog-beasts she had ever seen.

6th of Evening Star, 4E 201:

It has been… How long has it been, anyway? Something like five months.

Anyway, I’ve spent the whole time wandering Skyrim, exploring crypts and scouring the land for whatever happened to cross my mind. Oh, and I did kill a few Dragons, too. Only the ones that attacked me first; those were the ones that generally sat upon the Word Walls that are scattered across Skyrim. Basically your ordinary adventure.

Curiously enough, the Dragons were –for the most part- staying low. There weren’t that many of them. That I could see. Even so, I didn’t really have much choice… At this point, the only thing I had left to do was return to Delphine in Riverwood. I had put that off for long enough.

Fortunately, I was down near Falkreath. It wasn’t too long of a walk to get to Riverwood. I would arrive before 6pm.

When I did arrive back at the town, the sun was just starting to set. Alvor nodded in greeting as he wiped the grime of the forge off of his hands. I gave a little wave in return; I still didn’t like the idea of consorting with Delphine and it killed the mood.

Well, Delphine stalked over to me as soon as she spotted me. The bloody woman grabbed onto me and practically dragged me into the basement where she proceeded to roast me quite thoroughly for the fact that I had taken so long to come back to Riverwood. I told her I had been out hunting Dragons; that did little to calm her down. I will admit to being very tempted to smack the woman.

After she did calm down (it felt like several hours later), she pointed out that she had found a way to get me into the Thalmor Embassy: I was going to a party. And it wasn’t the sort of party I wanted to go to.

Ambassador Elenwen regularly held parties at the Embassy where the rich and the Thalmor cozied up to each other. I was to infiltrate one of those parties by posing as a guest. To ensure that I got my gear, I would give it to a Bosmer man named Malborn that I would meet in Solitude; he would smuggle the gear into the Embassy. Delphine would provide the invitation and the clothing. The rest… Would then be up to me. I needed to search the Thalmor Embassy to find any information they might have on the Dragons. If anything at all.

The party was two days away. I had enough time to rest for the remainder of the evening and night. Then, in the morning, I could set off for Dragon Bridge, spend the night there, and then wander the rest of the way to Solitude in time for the party.

I thought the journey was going to be a good one; a nice, ordinary trip for once… I was mistaken. I encountered Alduin resurrecting another Dragon. Like with Sahloknir, Alduin and the freshly reborn Dragon spoke for a moment. Then they noticed me.

Alduin flew off immediately, leaving the weak Dragon to fend for himself. We fought, and I won. There was no question that I was going to win; my observation with Sahloknir was correct. A newly resurrected Dragon wouldn’t have his normal strength and would thus be easy to bring down.

The name of the beast was Vuljotnaak. I could tell that much from his Soul. He wasn’t at his best when I claimed his Soul, but it would still work; I could still learn from it. With his knowledge flitting through my mind, I set off for Dragon Bridge once more.

As planned, I arrived in Solitude on the afternoon of the party. I met Malborn in the Inn. He was quite dismissive of my skill. Under ordinary circumstances, I wouldn’t be working with a man like him… But these were not ordinary circumstances. Malborn took my gear and I went down to the Solitude Stables to meet Delphine. She gave me an invitation and clothes and then I was off.

In the Thalmor Embassy, I found three documents: a dossier for Ulfric, Delphine, and a man named Esbern. The Thalmor knew nothing of why the Dragons were coming back, but they suspected the Esbern man would be able to answer that question. It seemed as though he was hiding in the Ratways in Riften. That was –more likely than not- going to be the next destination for me.

With the information stored safely in my pockets, I ran off to Riverwood. No doubt Delphine would want to see what I found.

7th of Evening Star, 4E 201:

Delphine was waiting for me in her secret little basement. She quickly went from being pleased at my return to shocked at my revelation that the Thalmor weren’t responsible for the Dragons… That they were just as clueless as everybody else. However, as soon as I mentioned Esbern, she brightened; apparently he was an old Blades agent who was an expert on Dragons. The Breton woman hadn’t thought that he was still alive. She made it very clear that I was to go to Riften and find him before the Thalmor did.

There was no time for me to rest. The Thalmor would already be on their way to Riften –if they weren’t there already- and finding Esbern was top priority. I sprinted out the door of the Inn and charged off in the direction of Riften.

I felt as though I was on the brink of collapse when I arrived. Despite that, I sought out Brynjolf in the market; Delphine had told me he would know where Esbern was. The man insisted that I do some thievery work for him, but I refused. I managed to convey the urgency of the situation to him –by explaining how the Dragons were bad for business, no less- and he told me that Esbern was hiding in the bottom of the Ratways.

Now that I knew where he was, I could find him and bring him back to Delphine. I ran through the Thieves Guild headquarters and into the Ratways, ignoring as much of the musty odour as I could.

I froze not far into the Ratways. It was clear that the Thalmor had arrived first and were now combing the Ratway for both Esbern and myself. They didn’t know where I was and that gave me an advantage… So I leapt out of the shadows and attacked. The Thalmor put up a fight, but I did eventually kill them.

After a while, I did manage to locate Esbern. The man was as paranoid as Delphine had warned me. He did, however, loosen up when I told him I was the Dragonborn. He let me into his little room –after fiddling with the locks for a minute or two- and we spoke. Esbern would come with me to Riverwood, but he needed some time to gather his notes; evidently, he had a lot of precious notes and books which could not fall into the hands of the Thalmor. The results would be disastrous if they did.

More Thalmor were waiting for us in the Ratways when we left Esbern’s room. Esbern was an accomplished mage and helped me clear the way. Together, we managed to fight out way out of the Ratway… Only to be attacked by a Thalmor assassin on our way out. At least the two of us managed to bring her down fairly quickly.

That –thank the Nine- left our path clear. With Esbern right behind me, I set off again for Riverwood.

8th of Evening Star, 4E 201:

Delphine was, as usual, waiting for us in the Inn. She and Esbern greeted each other as old friends. We all went down into the basement room where the real discussion began.

Esbern launched right into his explanation of Alduin and his return. He said that, in order to defeat Alduin, we needed to learn as much as we could about his original defeat. The only place where we could find that information was at Sky Haven Temple, an old Blades base in the Reach. It housed Alduin’s Wall: an ancient Akaviri stone carving that depicted all they knew of Alduin’s fall and his return.

Apparently Sky Haven Temple was located in the Karthspire –an area known for a large amount of Forsworn- and it wouldn’t exactly be easy to access. I told Delphine and Esbern that I could find my own way there. I just wish that I had enough time for a little nap. Anything would have been nice… Anything.

No rest for absurdly busy Dragonborns.

My legs were stiff, making it a bit of a challenge to start running. I would swear that they were about to fall off. I had to force myself to run. At Rorikstead, my knees gave out. A guard bent down to help me to my feet. He was a nice man… Was.

I saw Alduin fly over the town. Another Dragon followed closely behind him. The Guard saw the beast and cursed. I fought alongside the town Guards to bring down the Dragon. When the scaly monster died, I looked around; the Guard that had helped me was dead on the ground. It looked as though the Dragon had used him as a chew toy.

There was nothing that could be done. As soon as I had the Dragon’s Soul, I continued my hurried run to the Karthspire. A rushed, painful trip. A trip that was going to end more painfully than when it started.

The Karthspire was full of Forsworn. Delphine and Esbern were already fighting them. I joined in the battle; my stiff limbs slowed my reaction time and I took several hits from the Forsworn weapons. Fortunately, my armor deflected most of the blows. Some got through and pierced my scales.

To add to the fun, another Dragon launched himself at us. Now we had to fight the remaining Forsworn and the Dragon at the same time. Esbern and Delphine concentrated their fire on the Forsworn while I took care of the Dragon. We finished our battles at the same time.

Esbern commented on the absorption of the Dragon’s Soul as we all took a moment to rest. He had never seen such a thing before. Heard of it? Yes, but he had never seen it. I was, after all, the last Dragonborn.

Anyway, once we had recovered our breath, we all stood up and entered the cave that Esbern said led to Sky Haven Temple. There were more Forsworn inside… Including one of the infamous Briarhearts. I managed to rip the Briar Heart itself out of his chest.

What is the point of them? They’re held in by nothing more than a few leather strips. Bend them away or slip your fingers through them and you can pull the Briar Heart out. It has no defense. No protection…

I followed Delphine and Esbern up the stairs and towards a set of three pillars. Esbern explained how it worked and I solved the puzzle. And the next puzzle, too. The curious thing about this place was this giant stone face on the wall. Apparently it blocked the entrance to the door. The only way to open it? Blood. My blood. I had to cut my hand and let the blood drip onto the seal. At least the cut could be healed easily.

Once we were inside the Temple, Esbern took us to see Alduin’s Wall. It was an immense stone slab behind a large table. Carved into its surface was a series of images; the first panel seemed to depict the Dragon War, the second revealed how Alduin fell, and the third showed his ultimate defeat. The middle panel seemed to be the most important. According to Esbern, the three Nord Tongues had the Akaviri symbol for ‘Shout’ coming out of their mouths.

A Shout is what brought down Alduin. A Shout. Delphine certainly wasn’t happy about that news. I would have to visit the Greybeards and ask what they knew about it… If they knew what Shout it was.

It would have to wait. As I was about to leave, my legs collapsed underneath me. I found myself smiling wryly up at Delphine and asking, “Are there any beds around here or shall I just sleep on the floor?”

10th of Evening Star, 4E 201:

Oh, I am still so tired.

A few days of no rest, a short nap, another day of traveling, one more nap, and now I have come back to the Throat of the World. I sensed hostilities between the Greybeards and the Blades and I knew that this probably wasn’t going to go well.

I sought out Arngeir when I entered High Hrothgar. He was down in their living area. As I expected, the response wasn’t too pleasant. I honestly thought Arngeir was going to Shout me out of the place. All of the other Greybeards had their eyes fixed on me as I explained what was going on.

Alduin had returned. Ever since I saw him at Helgen, I had felt as though our fates were intertwined. Now I knew why… I was the one destined to stop him from taking over the world again. The Blades were merely helping me gather the information I needed. A point has been reached where they can no longer help me, and so I have come back to the Greybeards.

Arngeir calmed down after I explained the situation. He informed me that the Shout used to bring down Alduin was called Dragonrend; it was used to bring a Dragon back down to the ground, forcing it to fight from a prone position. It did so by affecting their very Soul. I don’t really understand the mechanics of it.

The Shout was lost. It was lost with the Dragons. Lost with the first Tongues that fought them. Nobody alive knew it.

Arngeir could not answer my questions. The only one, who could, as Arngeir told me, was the leader of the Greybeards themselves… Someone who lived on the top of the mountain. I needed to see him.

I was taken outside to the base of a large gate. There, Arngeir taught me a new Shout: Clear Skies. It could be used to clear the mists and high winds so I could climb the mountain.

After Arngeir finished his speech, I turned to face the gate and used the new Shout. It did indeed clear the mist. And with the mist gone… My next journey had begun.

It took several hours to climb the mountain. The thick snow slowed me down and, in several places, the wind threatened to topple me. That Frost Troll didn’t help much, either. And the roar… When I heard a roar at the top of the mountain, my blood froze… As if it wasn’t frozen already. I thought I was going to get attacked.

That was, thankfully, incorrect.

A large, silver-white Dragon had just flown over the very tip of the mountain and landed beside me. He turned his head –I couldn’t help but notice how worn he looked- and spoke. His name was Paarthurnax and he was the leader of the Greybeards. A Dragon.

He was a curious Dragon. Not like the others. Paarthurnax was missing several large chunks of his horns and chin spikes. His eyes, dark in his pale face, looked blind, although I got the impression that he still saw a lot. Not anything in this world… I felt as though he saw through time itself. In a way. I thought… Maybe he could see through me and into my Soul. Considering he seemed to instantly know who I was.

Okay. Who else could I be, really? No random person gets to ascend the Throat of the World.

We had a short discussion, but then he stopped. It was apparently traditional for Dragons to greet each other first. The elder Dragon spoke first. With that, he let out a blast of fire; the blaze left behind a glowing word on the broken Word Wall. I moved forward and learned it… Paarthurnax had granted me fire. Hm. A nice Dragon. Unusual.

After I used the Fire Breath Shout on Paarthurnax, we had a very long discussion about me and Dragonrend. Paarthurnax wanted to know why I was to be the one to defeat Alduin; I gave him the same explanation I gave Arngeir. It took some time –probably a few hours- but he did eventually say that he didn’t know Dragonrend either. Something about it being impossible for a Dragon to learn the Shout as it was designed to fight them.

There was, however, a way for me to learn the Shout. If I found the Elder Scroll that was used to send Alduin forward through time, then I could learn Dragonrend from those who created it.

Okay then…

Wait…

I realized I already have the scroll. I found it while I was giving Septimus Signus a hand in opening that Dwemer box.

So… This was it. As soon as I read the scroll at the Time Wound, I would get a vision of the past. When it ended, Alduin would be waiting. I would have to fight him right then, on the top of the Throat of the World. That’s a new one.

There was no time to waste. I opened the Scroll and… It was an odd sight. I found it a little difficult to see through the symbols from the scroll and the orange haze, but I could make out enough to know what was going on. I watched as the Nord Tongues banished Alduin from their time… And I also learned Dragonrend.

I have no words to describe the battle that took place next. It was just intense… And that is a really insufficient way of putting it. Fire raining from the sky like in Helgen, Alduin and Paarthurnax roaring insults at each other, me practically Shouting my head off at Alduin… He barely went down. I couldn’t kill him. He’s too strong here. I would have to follow him and hunt him down while he is at his weakest.

Of course, I didn’t know where he had gone. Neither did Paarthurnax, although he did have a plan to locate Alduin. A plan that I just couldn’t help but scoff at…

He wanted to trap a Dragon. In Dragonsreach. I’ve heard everything now.

Well… I still had to go along with his plan. As absurd as it is. There wasn’t really any other option; I needed to know where Alduin had gone, and the only things likely to know were Dragons. Particularly Dragons close to him.

Anyway, now that I apparently have to trap a Dragon in Dragonsreach… Oh, that’s not going to happen. Not unless the Civil War is put to an end. The only way I could see of doing that was to join with the Imperials and fight until the bitter end. I really doubt any of the faction leaders would be willing to declare a truce. Not without some serious repercussions for Skyrim.

So be it. It was time for me to pick a side. In a little while, anyway. My first intention was to stop in Ivarstead and rest. The battle with Alduin drained even more of my energy. At this point, I doubt I could make it half way to Riften.

Ivarstead it was. The Inn almost always had a warm bed available. Gods know I could use one right now.

Screenshots:
Assassin's End
Dragon in the Town
The White Dragon
Ancient Moon
Black Maw
Snarl

The wind was rough against the flesh exposed by my armor. It spoke of a storm on the horizon. Of course, the weather mattered little to me; I could withstand conditions that would slay any ordinary mortal within minutes. Such was the nature of an ancient and powerful Vampire like me.

I was trekking along the path leading to Riverwood from Whiterun. My ultimate destination was Lakeview Manor. I had some business to attend to and I required some place silent so that I could work; I had absolutely no desire to be interrupted by my imbecile of a husband or my adopted mortal brats. Nor could I risk them discovering what I was up to.

As I approached the former Honningbrew Meadery, I was pulled to the side of a road by a Guard. I felt a hot flash of irritation as the man began to stammer out a few sentences.

“They… They say that, if a Vampire so much as scratches you, you’ll turn into one… That isn’t true, is it? Is it? You have experience with the undead, don’t you Dragonborn?”

Ah, awkward questions. It was amusing… A Guard coming to me for counsel, blissfully unaware that the woman he was speaking to is, quite possibly, one of the strongest Vampires in existence. I could almost laugh. Before I could catch myself, I began to reply.

“Oh, if that were true, I would have turned hundreds by now.”

Son of a [&@%!]… That was a very inappropriate time to botch a simple conversation. I could plainly see the Guard’s wide eyes shining with dumbstruck horror behind his helmet. I had to act quickly before he alerted the other Guards. Things would get messy if he did.

“Oh… It was just a slip of the tongue. You have nothing to fear from me. I’m just as alive as you or anybody else.”

That didn’t help any. Normally, I could talk a man into thinking he was a dog, but… At this moment, I wasn’t coming across as very convincing. I would have to kill him… Not that there was a problem with that. I was quite thirsty. I would be, as the saying goes, killing two birds with one stone: my thirst, and a potential snitch.

I extended my power to him; within a second, he became quite sedate. The other Guards were too far away to see us in the fading light, although it did look as though they had their backs turned as well. It was safe. Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed onto the Guard and pulled him through several bushes and large lavender plants. Unless the other Guards thought to look through the shrubs, they would not be able to see us.

I softly pushed the Nord man to the ground. There was no risking any loud noise. Once he was down, I slid on top of him and pinned him underneath me with my legs to ensure that he could not move. With a gentle touch, I removed his helmet. His eyes were half shut; for a moment, I questioned whether or not he was even awake.

Perhaps I was too strong for him? Ah, no matter…

I caressed the sides of his neck and felt the steady beats of his heart. A slight smirk crossed my face as I considered that his heart would not be beating much longer. My hands tilted his head to the side and I brought my fangs to his throat.

Hot blood gushed into me a mere second after my fangs punctured the main vessels of his neck. Soon, the guard was deceased and my thirst was fully quenched. I thrust myself away from the corpse and used the momentum of the motion to roll into the shadows of the rocks behind the old Honningbrew building.

Licking my lips, I slipped back onto the road near the first waterfall. One Guard was enough for this night… Now I could concentrate upon my work.

The elf walked through the blood-red dim glowing light, past dark metal walls, a heaving stench of blood and sweat in the clotted air. In the distance she could hear the sound of blades clashing, and voices rising - her pulse raised. She wandered through the streets heading through, feeling confident in her ornate Dragonscale armour and Dragonbone blade, wondering whether she would ever find anything during her trip through Oblivion to challenge her un-matched power.

Then she saw them - dark-skinned beast men, with fortified brow ridges and immense strength, wielding swords the like of which she had never seen, large, spiked weapons, perhaps close to a battle-axe, but yet not.

"Dremora? No..." She spoke to herself, trying to match these beings to what she knew, before realising they were nothing like anything she knew. The other races there were a bit more familiar - bald, green skinned men, seemed to her to be less facial featured Orsimer, and giant bipedal reptiles. "Daedroths perhaps, but they can't speak... I wonder where in Oblivion I am?"

As she overlooked them, one of the dark-skinned beast men called to her. "You, Vulcan PetaQ, get down here where we can see you."

"Hmm. Feim Zii Gron." She leapt down, her body ethereal for the flight, but returning as she spoke. "While I know not what you are, I am not "Vulcan" I am an altmeri warrior, the finest ever to walk the Planes of Oblivion. Who is the Prince of this Realm?"

"Prince? Do you mean a god? We are Klingon, we killed our gods thousands of years ago. Do you even know where you are?"

"Somewhere in Oblivion. My homeland has nothing left for me after my husband's departure to Sovngarde, so I wander the realms of the Daedra, searching for a challenge."

"You appear to be new to this world. This is Qo'noS, homeworld of the unmatched Klingon Empire."

"Hmm. Unmatched you say... Your weapons are certainly interesting."

"As is yours. A Human sword design by shape I can tell, but the material is like animal bone, but not any I know."

Jennifere draws her sword. "Yes, this weapon was crafted from the thighbone of a mighty fire-breathing Dragon named Mirmulniir. I slew him in single combat in my youth."

"Fire-breathing?" The Klingon's disdain and disbelief evident.

"Yes." Her neck jerks back, as she shouts to the sky a torrent of fire. "Yol Toor Shul!"

The Klingons all step back, in amazement. "How did you do that?"

"That, is the start of my abilities. On my world, there have been gods less powerful than me."

"You have the heart of a Klingon!" He punches her shoulder in a friendly sort of manner.

"I presume that is a complement."

Another Klingon spoke, arrayed in the finery of a ruler. "Who is this Vulcan?"

"I am Jennifere, Dragonborn High Queen of Skyrim, The last-born of Akatosh. Most likely the most powerful woman you will ever meet."

"Fancy words and titles - we Klingons care nothing for them. You carry a blade, let us test you in battle."

"Many have decided to face me - only those I choose survive. If you wish to throw your life away..."

"Today is a good day to die."

"Perhaps, but defeating you would prove nothing. I see you all have other weapons upon yourselves - what are they?"

"These are disruptor pistols and rifles." The Klingon fires his at a cup, vaporising it instantly. "As you can see, far more potent than mere breathing fire."

A younger Klingon charges for her, Bat'leth raised. "IF you ARE as strong as you claim, then killing you is it's own reward." Jennifere closes her eyes. "Tiid Klo Ul." Time slows to a crawl, as Jennifere neatly sidesteps the Klingon's rush, before prepping her counter attack. "Su Grah Dun." her blade strikes down, breaking the Bat'Leth across the now terrified Klingon.

"Today is a good day to die."

"Perhaps." Jennifere sheathes her blade, as the Klingon Chancellor turns on the sneak-attacker, blade ready to end the cowards life.

"Ha'DIbaH."

"Spare him." Jennifere orders the Chancellor.

"By Klingon honour, he dies."

"To waste a warrior for one mistake is harsh. Let him live."

"A mistake that could have killed you."

"He never would have stood a chance. I wasn't even trying."

The Chancellor stares at her, before turning to the defeated warrior. "She has decided your fate. Leave the Empire, disgrace to your house."

"Wait." She bends down, with her eyes closed, as a blue energy envelops the Klingon's wrist, restoring the broken bone.

"What?"

"His wrist was broken. I healed it."

The defeated Klingon runs for the transporter pad, before the Chancellor changes his mind.

"A waste of your effort."

"My effort to waste. Forgive me, but I didn't get your name earlier."

"I am Chancellor Jm'pok, Ruler of the Klingon Empire."

"So, tell me Chancellor, how big is your Empire? Are there other Nations on this world?"

"No. The Empire rules vast swathes of the Galaxy, with more conquests every day. Surely you must know this when you came from your world across the stars."

"You can travel to the stars?"

"Do you not know? Where is the ship you used to get here."

"I didn't use a ship, I travelled by opening a portal from my world to here with my magic."

"What is magic?"

"Evidently, your world has technology far beyond what I have, but from what I can see here, my spells are a match for your technology."

"Now it is your turn to underestimate us - come with me. If you can match this I will be most impressed." The Chancellor turns to a nearby adviser. "Hail a nearby Bird of Prey, order them down here. Let us see if she can match it."

"What is your test, Jm'pok?"

"I assume you have ships that sail on oceans and lakes yes? While we scrapped our sea-based ships thousands of years ago, we have ships that travel in open space. Our Bird's of Prey are some of the finest ships in our fleets, with far more powerful versions of the disruptor weapon demonstrated earlier."

"You want me to match a spaceships power?"

"Yes. Up to it?"

"I... I am uncertain."

We shall see." He turns to his adviser. "Well?"

"The I.K.S. Kr'ih of Commander K'Ahlayr is standing by."

"Order her to de-cloak her ship."

The adviser issues the order, and the warship de-cloaks.

"That would be quite an invisibility spell..." Jennifere observed.

"I doubt you could comprehend the technology behind it, but yes it is."

"Tell me, it seems awfully dishonourable to make your ships capable of invisibility at will for a race focused on honour. Surely a conflict of interest is there..."

"It is too much of an advantage not to use."

"Agreed, but still..."

As Jm'pok was about to respond, the ship demonstrates its cannons. "So, what do you think?"

"I can beat that. May I get on board the ship?"

"I don't see why not." He nods at the adviser, and then they are beamed aboard.

"Greetings. I am Commander K'Ahlayr, I.K.S. Kr'ih."

"Commander. This is Jennifere. She may look Vulcan, but disregard that. Her heart is as Klingon as any of us."

"You have made quite a name for your self Jennifere. I hear you can speak fire and slow down time just by talking. Please, follow me to my bridge." The woman walks towards the bridge of the vessel.

End of part 1...