So this has stuck in my mind for a few days now, this is a straight modded Skyrim crossover. By the end my skills are maxed, I know every spell and shout in the game + mods and have made a few others. I have a single set of every piece of clothing and armor. I've married Serana, sided with the Volkihar, ended the civil war in favor of the empire, become listener of the dark brotherhood, completed every guild quest line starting with the companions, and as the first line states its been nearly 500 years since I was first dropped in. If I continue this the plan is to quickly work my way through the events of Skyrim, detail a few notable events in the time afterwards and then move on to the next world, which is planned to be a modded Fallout New Vegas.
Much of this first chapter will be crimped direct from the Helgen sequence, with a few changes mostly because I'm not relegated to game mechanics.
Some explanations, there are three main storage methods, two available to everyone, and one only available to expert Alteration Mages. These are in order; pockets, the inventory, and the spell Deep Storage. The pockets and inventory can be searched by other people, Deep Storage can not. Fortunately most thieves don't bother learning the spell or don't have the skill to learn it.
Vampires are deadly foes, twice as strong/fast as a human at its peak with reflexes to match at minimum, naturally able to see in the dark, unnaturally quiet and stealthy. A sufficiently strong/well fed vampire can stroll around in the noon sun with little discomfort though they wont be able to call on most of their vampiric abilities. Fortunately they do possess some deadly weaknesses, silver will burn them, but their real weakness is holy/divine power. Only the oldest and strongest of vampires can withstand consecrated ground, shrines, and other holy places. Being on consecrated grounds will weaken a vampire to base human power, and prevent them from accessing their vampiric abilities. As such vampire hunters will often carry blessed holy water and large posts carved into a shrine of Arkay. They slam these posts into the ground surrounding the vampires supposed lair, the posts act as a barrier that severely weakens any vampire inside, much weaker than consecrated ground, but stronger than a lone shrine.
Lycanthropes are stronger in their human form and possess better senses, these advantages are multiplied in beast form but so are their weaknesses, silver might burn and slow the healing of an injury in human form, but will turn necrotic and actively suppress regeneration in beast form if the wound is bad enough.
Liches, not that there will be many, require their body to be slain then their phylactery which must be either on them or within fifty feet or so otherwise they will resurrect in a few days time. For some reason most Liches keep their phylactery on them.
This Tamriel is more realistically proportioned but still not to real world proportions. Whiterun for instance will be a large city, housing several thousand people with even more living just outside in the various farms. As such distances will be lengthened appropriately. Where you could get from the cave outside Helgen to Whiterun in a day at a brisk jog, will now take around a week. Solitude to Riften by road will take around a month and a half. I wont be going to into specific distances in the story though.
Skill levels are tiered as in the game but are often described as other words:
Novice = Novice
Apprentice = Decent skill
Journeyman = Proficient skill
Expert = Expert
Master = Master
"It's been almost 500 years since I was dumped into the body of the Last Dragonborn at the start of Skyrim, thankfully a mix of modded Skyrim and reality." I speak to myself in front of what could be my greatest achievement. As I check my work I reminisce about the past...
The Last Dragonborn, from what I've been able to discover was the second son of a member of Imperial High Nobility out of Chorrol. Instead of hanging around, he decided to study magic. Being of the Nobility, he was already proficient with a sword and held a decent level of charisma. A misspent youth gained him proficient skill in lockpicking and sneaking around, while the occasional hunting trip with his uncle gained him a decent skill in archery.
As he began learning magic he discovered he possessed an innate and, according to his peers, unnatural understanding of magic. While he had a more than high affinity for magic in general, he held a particular affinity for destruction and illusion magic. He quickly advanced to the level of expert in the five branches of magic in a little under a decade of study, but a fake scandal got him expelled. Dejected but intent on furthering his magical skills he asked around about other magical institutions. Hearing of The College of Winterhold in Skyrim, he immediately began preparing for the long trip to Winterhold. Picking up some heavy fur cloaks and an all weather tent, he procured enough food to last the trip to Bruma and some healing potions just in case.
The trip to Bruma wasnt exactly dangerous, but it also wasnt safe, it would take around a week to get there and rumors say a group of bandits have made camp around the ayleid ruins of Sercen. Approaching the area the rumors mentioned, he made camp just on the outskirts of Aleswell and spent the rest of the day helping around the village, though taking care to not do anything too strenuous. After night fell, he snuck over to the camp and observed the patrols. Taking a finely honed steel dagger from his boot he quickly took out the sentries and concealed the bodies. Sneaking into the camp he quickly slit the throats of the sleeping bandits but was caught by a bandit patrolling the camps interior who raised the alarm despite a lucky dagger toss taking him in the throat. Drawing his sword, an exquisitely honed Ebony longsword and charging his off hand with potent lightning magic, he battled the few surviving bandits, easily putting them down though not without a few injuries. Still after putting the last bandit down he felt he had advanced his swordsmanship to the next level and gained some insight into the use of light armor. Healing his injuries with a little restoration magic he searches the camp, stuffing everything not nailed down into his Deep Storage, he finds a disturbing amount of gold, and a few well made weapons and bits of armor.
Most importantly, he finds a gilded ring bearing the crest of a family in the lesser nobility and a missive detailing a deal with the bandit group in the bandit leaders tent as well as a book that seemed to turn up everywhere he went titled "The Book of the Dragonborn". Picking it up he stored it in his inventory before making his way back to his camp and bedding down for the rest of the night. Making his way to Bruma he finally arrives near noon a few days later and approaches the local lord's chamberlain to arrange a private audience. The next day the local lord was appalled to hear what one of his liege-men were doing and ordered the guard commander to arrange for the arrest of the offending lord. In thanks, the lord arranged for his stay in Bruma to be free, and a discount on purchased supplies. Staying a few days to recuperate from his injuries, as minute as they were, he purchased more supplies and ensured he had appropriately outfitted himself for life in Skyrim. He also took the opportunity to read that damn book; with the way it was always showing up around him he figured it was an omen from the gods. Reading it and learning the Prophecy of the Last Dragonborn he couldn't help but sigh and shake his head, dismissing it as an omen entirely.
Leaving Bruma after a week of rest, he makes his way via the southwestern border but is knocked unconscious and captured during an Imperial ambush while crossing near Halldir's Cairn. I was apparently inserted while he was unconscious because the first thing I remember is waking up on a rickety cart on the way to Helgen with the ever infamous line…
"Hey you! You're finally awake! You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." a man sitting across from me that I vaguely recognize as Ralof comments as I shake my head, hoping to remove the cobwebs.
"Damn you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along; Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." Looking to my right, I see Lokir, the Nord horse thief that gets riddled with arrows at the start of Skyrim. Looking around a pit forms in my stomach, I'm really here aren't I? Suddenly, a memory from the body I was merged with flashes in my mind.
"You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here, its these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Lokir continues to whine, making me second guess my decision to help keep him alive.
"Well, I hope they realize their mistake and release me, I'm not sure whichever general is in charge could handle the scandal that would be caused by executing me. I was making my way to Falkreath before moving on towards Winterhold." I groan, the last vestiges of my bout with unconsciousness fading at last. Testing my bonds, I'm surprised by the fact that my bindings aren't magic canceling as is standard, someone would be losing their job if I had any intention of revealing that fact. Thankfully despite them not being standard, a quick glance at the other prisoner's bonds prove to be standard. I can only assume that my insertion via some higher power broke the magic canceling enchantment.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief" Ralof comments derisively.
"Shut up back there!" the cart driver calls back to us, we share a glance before continuing our conversation.
"What's wrong with him, huh?" Lokir nods towards the fourth prisoner on our cart, the one next to me. He is wearing some very nice and very expensive looking fur coat and is gagged on top of being bound.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" Ralof loudly demands, reverence clear in his voice. Lokir looks between me, Ralof, and Ulfric a few times before paling in fear.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! But if they've captured you… oh gods! Where are they taking us?" Lokir looks like he might keel over any second, I admit to deriving a bit of amusement from the sight.
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits…" Ralof answers, his voice heavy with resignation. For some reason this answer doesn't sit well with Lokir, who begins to panic.
"No! This can't be happening!" Lokir cries, nearly hyperventilating.
"Shush, horse thief, keep calm and you might yet make it out of here alive." I scold him, shockingly this works and his breathing slowly evens out as a conniving glint appears in his eye. The rest of the ride passes quickly as I hum the Skyrim theme quietly. As the gates to Helgen close with an ominous clunk, Ralof sighs.
"This is Helgen; I used to be sweet on a girl from here… Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries still…" Ralof's voice fades as he seems to sink in his memories before snapping back, "funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe…"
As we ignored the child commenting, we slowly came to a stop by an inner gate. The silence of the city was only broken by the sounds of people disembarking the carts and occasional huffs the horses made. My earlier comment to Lokir seems to have sparked something in Ralof, because he had been giving me suspicious glances the entire time.
"Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!" an irritating woman dressed in officer's garb calls out, another soldier taking a step forward and holding up a paper.
"Empire loves their damn lists…" Ralof sighs and comments under his breath, shaking his head.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm" The soldier calls out after checking the paper. Ulfric doesn't hesitate to walk over to the execution grounds.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric" Ralof says quietly, offering a respectful nod towards Ulfric.
"Ralof of Riverwood!" the second name is called out by the soldier who, getting a good look, I now recognize as Hadvar.
Ralof doesn't hesitate any more than Ulfric, heading to the execution area with his head held high.
"Lokir of Rorikstead!" Hadvar calls out. Lokir noticeably fidgety, hesitantly heads over to the execution area instead of trying to escape and getting killed by the archers. He is still visibly watching for an opportunity to escape but seems resigned.
"Wait! You there! Step forward!" Hadvar calls out to me after noticing my standing there. I step forward to Hadvar's visible confusion, despite checking the list he cant seem to find me.
"You're a long way from the Imperial City. What're you doing in Skyrim? He says before his eyes land on the house crest prominently displayed on my shirt and he starts and becomes visibly nervous.
"Captain what should we do, he's not on the list!" Hadvar calls out to the nearby officer, knowing without doubt that this is above his pay grade.
"Forget the list, he goes to the block" The officer says not even looking towards us.
"Out of curiosity, what is your name, Captain?" I loudly drawl, drawing her attention.
"Viera Callidus, why renegade?" She sneers, condescension dripping from her every pore.
"Why so I know whose family to crucify when I get out of here Miss Callidus." I answer, drawing on every ounce of my noble charisma. She seems to find my answer funny as she chuckles to herself before literally grabbing my arm and towing me over to the spot roughly.
"You wont be getting out of here alive, renegade" She pats my cheek like I was a child who said something amusing. I move close to Lokir who seems to settle.
"Stick close to me and you'll hopefully live though this" I mutter out the side of my mouth as General Tullius sentences Ulfric. Lokir merely nods just as he finishes and an eerie screech echoes through the city. A memory of a few lines of poetry from one of Skyrim loading screens pops into my head at that point and I feel compelled to recite it.
"And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, That when brothers wage war come unfurled! Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, With a hunger to swallow the world!" I recite, my voice seemingly more… real, and seems to reverberate oddly. Just as I finish a second screech echoes, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Lokir having been the only one close enough to hear me almost snaps to attention, dread visible on his face. I catch his eyes and nod grimly. He seems to deflate before a look of determination crosses his face and he strongly nods to himself before returning my nod.
The executions continue unabated, the screeches echoing a few more times, before I am called. Giving a calming look towards Lokir, I head to the execution stand, head held high as the screech echoes again, audibly closer. As I am forced to kneel, I begin singing Skyrim's theme song.
"Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!" I only make it through the first verse before Alduin swoops and lands on the tower before calling down a storm of meteors. The Imperial soldiers scatter as the meteors land and explode.
"Follow me!" I call, igniting my normal rope binding with a bit of fire magic freeing my arms and motioning Lokir towards the tower. Making it to the tower wasnt difficult but it was a bit of a tense situation.
"Was that really a dragon? Could the legends be true?" Ulfric, inexplicably free of his bindings asked.
"Legends don't burn down buildings, Jarl Ulfric." I answered calmly, despite the sweat dripping down my face I sound remarkably calm.
"How are you so calm when there is a dragon out there!" Lokir cries. Turning to look at him, I give him a glance over noting that he's only scratched up a bit.
"Not quite what you were expecting I bet, huh Lokir? You would be surprised at the kind of shenanigans one can get up to at The College of Whispers, being in life threatening danger wasnt rare depending on what you were learning, and I learned it all.
At any rate we should make our way to the keep, it will either have a secret tunnel exit or is sturdy enough that we will be able to ride out the attack in safety." I chuckle remembering some of my bodies experiences. Ralof turns to Ulfric, while Lokir inches his way to the doorway and peers out before flinching back behind a wall. The sound of a wall on the upper level exploding inwards along with a scream of agony reaches us as a dragon's roar fills the upper level with fire, noticeably warming the air.
"That sounded like it came from the tavern side, if were lucky the dragon will have destroyed the roof and we will be able to jump over." I mutter quietly, but the quiet of the room after the screams allows everyone to hear.
"You and the horse thief should check, we'll check the front" Ulfric replies, promptly heading out the entrance quickly hurrying out of sight, Ralof and the other Stormcloak tag-a-longs at his side. Opening my Deep Storage I retrieve a pair of steel daggers and a pair of steel long swords. I sheath a dagger and sword in the proper places, before using the spare dagger to free Lokir from his bindings, once he's free I hand over the spare dagger and sword and clap him on the back, using the touch to channel a small amount of calming magic into him, just enough to take him off the panicked edge he was standing on.
"C'mon, we should get going, they wont be coming back. Don't worry about the drop, I have a spell to stop us hurting ourselves." I say quickly putting words to action I sneak my way up the stairs, stopping when I notice the huge hole in the wall. Utilizing an illusion spell, Ghostwalk, I turn invisible and sneak over to the hole and lean out carefully, seeing no danger I inspect the damaged roof beside the tower perhaps six feet away. There is a nice big hole in the partially burned roof but the damage doesn't seem to have spread to the floor underneath, with a bit of careful jumping it looks like someone could jump and land safely on the second floor of the tavern even without magic. All of a sudden shifting back to the mouth of the stairs and into visibility, I hear a startled gasp behind me.
"Shit! Don't do that, I nearly skewered you!" Lokir loudly whispered, his face paling. Motioning him to follow, I make my way to the hole.
"Sorry, also you don't need to whisper, looks like the dragons off in another part of the town. Anyways it looks like you could make the jump if you took it at a run, but just in case give me a moment to cast a few spells to ensure we wont injure ourselves." I gesture a few times calling on my magic, first casting Drop Zone to eliminate any chance of injuring ourselves from the drop and Healing Blossom to heal us if we catch ourselves on the roof and get scratched or cut. Taking a moment I ready another spell just in case, Nature's Balance which would swap any injuries the target has with the caster.
"Okay, if we land badly we should heal fairly quickly, I'm not a master healer but I'm pretty good. Land in the magical circle and you wont be hurt from the fall itself, lets go!" I hurry to say before taking the jump. Falling through the air, I hit the ground and roll once before getting to my feet and looking around. A thump behind me is followed by a groan of pain that quickly disappears. Looking around I see nothing but a few shelves with cooking implements and a few bottles of mead. Taking a cooking pot and a few glasses as well as the mead I shove them into my Deep Storage and turn to Lokir who is laying on his back breathing deeply.
"Acrobatics aren't really your thing is it?" I quip stifling a chuckle when Lokir groans in response.
"Its not needed much in my line of work, no. That aside, what a rush! I can see why so many of my colleagues take the high ground so often but its not really my thing." Lokir and I share a wry glance, recognizing a fellow sneak when we see one before sharing a chuckle as I help him to his feet as the dragon roars nearby.
"Time to go!" I say and quietly rush down the stairs, Lokir following quickly, nearly running into Hadvar and bowling him over as I reach the exit. Eyeing him suspiciously for a moment my hand rests on my sword handle, before I relax.
"Still alive My Lord? Good, good. We should get to the keep its the only building sturdy enough to withstand that beast!" Hadvar calls out in greeting, hesitating a moment when he notices Lokir who glances at me in surprise.
"I agree, we should get going. The sooner we get inside the sooner we can rest a few minutes in safety." I nod and voice my agreement.
"You guys should either come with us or shelter in the tower until its over." I speak to the civilians Hadvar was protecting motioning towards the tower. The man nods and quickly makes his way to the tower dragging the child with him as I move to follow Hadvar.
"My lord?" Lokir asks, his eyebrow quirked in confusion as he runs beside me.
"I'm the second son of the Ducal House of Septimus." I answer shortly before pulling Lokir up against the wall as the dragon lands on the ledge above us, its wings slamming to either side as it bellows fire across the ruined buildings in front of us and flies off. Ignoring the screams and moans of the dying, Lokir and I follow Hadvar through the burning ruins of a house and out onto the street just down from the keep entrance.
"Misspent youth, eh? Must of been a hell of a troublemaker then." Lokir commented quietly as we moved.
"I was never caught, had a few close calls though, besides I focused more on getting in and out of places unseen than taking anything. Heard lots of gossip and probably learned a fair bit I shouldn't have but even people like us have their flaws, eh?" I answer getting a chuckle out of him.
Making it into the keep was easy, the dragon had plenty of other targets taking its attention. Going with Hadvar was an even easier choice seeing as the Stormcloaks left us to die. Making it inside I begin casting diagnostic spells revealing that outside of some minor cuts and bruises the worst injury among the three of us was Hadvar with a fractured rib and sprained ankle. Quickly healing us, I shoo Lokir off to search the room for supplies. He returns with a set of imperial light armor and a few bottles of wine. I take the wine but leave him the armor, which he quickly dons. I take a few cups out of Deep Storage and divvy up the wine, each of us quickly drink it the alcohol doing more to calm us than any amount of calming magic.
"You did well today, what's your name soldier?" I ask, calling on my bodies memories as a member of nobility. Hadvar warily straightens up eyeing me like a mouse eyes a snake before it strikes before he relaxes.
"Hadvar, My Lord." He answers giving me a respectful nod.
"Well Hadvar, lets see about getting the hell out of here, as much as I'd like to just sit here and wait for it to end I doubt the roof can handle a determined dragon. Probably best to get a little deeper, just in case." I say, just as the roof trembles and we hear a screech from outside, a few motes of dust fall as they are shaken loose from the ceiling.
"I think you're right, My Lord, lets get going" Hadvar agrees looking at the ceiling dubiously before turning and walking further into the keep, Lokir and I following.
A little further on and past a portcullis I shush the group and motion for them to listen.
"We need to get moving, that dragon is tearing up the whole keep!" A male voice speaks.
"Just give me a minute… I'm out of breath…" Another voice says. Casting Ghostwalk I inch my way towards the gate revealing the voices to be a pair of Stormcloaks before I'm switched back to my casting position.
"A pair of Stormcloaks, they look tired. I can take them out easily enough, but you two should be ready just in case." I whisper. Hadvar seems hesitant to let me risk myself but eventually agrees.
Casting Invisibility and Muffle I pull my dagger and ready an overcharged Thunderbolt in my offhandand creep over to the standing Stormcloak. Just before my invisibility times out I grab the Stormcloak by the neck with my offhand and release the spell point blank with a massive crack and the smell of cooked flesh before dodging under the surprised swing of the second and slamming my dagger in to his throat and rolling away.
"All clear!" I call out to my group and they walk in with weapons drawn. They look around as the last gurgles of the Stormcloak stop and he falls silent, and I retrieve my dagger and wipe it on the corpses armor before re-sheathing it. Hadvar looks at the corpses nonplussed, I assume he has seen this kind of thing before, but Lokir looks a little disturbed.
"Impressive work My Lord, seems I had no reason to worry." Hadvar comments as he inspects the scene and searches the corpses finding a few pieces of gold which he splits with Lokir with my agreement. Opening the portcullis on the other side of the room reveals a staircase going down. Sharing a glance with my group, we carefully advance, but are surprised by the ceiling collapsing, sealing off the passage. Lokir spots a side door and we carefully approach it before voices again reach our ears.
"What are you doing? We need to get out of Helgen. Now!" a male voice urges.
"These Imperials have potions here. We're going to need them." the second voice answers, accompanied by the sounds of someone rustling through things.
"I think I'll let you two handle this, I should conserve my magicka. That said I'll cast some protective magic on you, the first spell will make your flesh as durable as ebony and the second will grant you several layers of thin wooden armor for a time." I cast Ebonyflesh and Tree Rings, as I explain. Giving them a moment to get used to the magic, I ready a third spell before throwing open the door and tossing it in. the walls tremble and light escapes the doorway as the spell impacts the floor halfway between the door and the Stormcloaks and erupts into a bright flash of light and a harsh screech with a minor concussive explosion and my companions charge in and quickly deal with the disoriented Stormcloaks. My magicka reserves are somewhat low after all the magic I've been throwing around so I sit on a nearby crate and search my Deep Storage for a magicka potion, finally finding it and downing it in seconds.
"Nicely done you two, just give me a moment to rest. I really shouldn't have used so much magic. Lets rest here for a bit, we should be safe enough. You guys should search the room, all I ask is first dibs at any magicka potions I'm always running low on them. In the meantime I'll prepare a quick meal, we could all use it." I say after catching my breath.
Searching my Deep Storage for ingredients and dishes, I move around the room collecting ingredients and throw together a quick steak and veggies stir fry as Hadvar and Lokir quickly search the room, finding a handful of potions none of which restore magicka. Roughly a half hour later the food is done and I dish out the food. As we eat I begin feeling much better and my visibly pale skin and shaky hands recover, returning to their lightly tanned and steady countenance. Seeing the questioning glances from my companions, I sit a bit straighter taking a sitting lecturer pose and begin explaining.
"Much like how a warrior will not be able to fight as well if he isn't well fed, a mages ability to cast magic can be weakened by lack of food and rest. If they ignore their physical condition for long enough, their skin turns pale and sickly, their hands begin to shake, and their concentration suffers.
Mages thus need to either eat small meals often or eat big meals regularly to keep their magic regulated. Most criminals don't eat regularly which, among other factors, is the reason they can be taken down by the average adventurer or bounty hunter even if they are mages." I finish the lecture before realizing I had taken the pose my own professor did, when I realize it I stifle a chuckle. Looking around I see Hadvar nodding in realization while Lokir appeared more interested in the food.
"We should continue on, I recall the commander of the garrison here complaining about a cave system connecting to the keep being exposed when a small group of Stormcloaks used it to sneak in. I think they to brick it over soon so we should be able to escape that way." Hadvar commented, handing over the dishes after clearing them.
"Sounds like a plan, what do you think we'll face down there? Any ideas?" I question, taking the plates from Hadvar and Lokir and casting one of those spells every mage learns to clean them before storing them, the cooking pot, and the spare ingredients in my Deep Storage, and standing up.
"we'll probably run into some stragglers from the Stormcloaks, and I vaguely recall some soldiers whining about frostbite spiders though I cant remember where they were." Hadvar answered as we made our way further into the keep and we hear the sounds of battle. Hadvar rushes out into the room ahead of us even as Lokir and I draw our weapons and rush to follow. By the time we arrive the battle is over, and the room revealed to be the torture room. Both the torturer and the torturer's assistant and the attacking Stormcloaks are dead and Hadvar is trying and failing to pick the lock on one of the cages.
"Let me at it Hadvar, you and Lokir should start scouring the room, take anything useful and pile it in the center." I take over the lock, giving my companions something to do.
Casting a spell I learned a week before I was expelled, Manipulate – Unlock the lock popped open with barely an effort. Looking in I find the corpse of a mage, and a tome for Sparks the basic Destruction magic. Nabbing it the cover changed, blinking, I decide to check it out later and throw it in my inventory, before searching the corpse only finding a few pieces of gold, which I pocket before helping my companions search the room. There isn't much, more than a few weapons and a few sets of armor. Their is a few potions, a second look around finds, one of which is a magicka potion which I claim.
Heading further into the cell block we come across a wall with a big hole blown out of it. Stepping through leads us to a tunnel that when followed opens into an open area. We all come to a sudden stop when more voices echo through the area.
"Where in Oblivion are we supposed to go? Where's the way out? A male voice loudly complains.
"Just give me a minute. Let me think." A second voice answers, audibly irked with his companion.
Listening for a moment we all move back the way we came.
"Bets on whether its Stormcloaks again?" I quip, voice full of false cheer. My body language paints me as visibly annoyed. Lokir sneaks forward just enough to check.
"No bets needed, its Stormcloaks, four of them. Two have bows." Lokir reports having snuck back.
"Fuck this shit!" I mutter, stomping my towards the Stormcloaks. Not being stupid I apply Ebonyflesh, Tree Rings, and a spell I learned about while sneaking around in the archives and recreated Chameleon 50%. as I swing around the corner of the tunnel, barely visible to the Stormcloaks I unleash a final spell, one I modified from Chain Lightning, increasing the potency and number of jumps in exchange for decreasing the range. The lightning lashes out almost instantly, frying the first Stormcloak before jumping to the next killing him as well. The third Stormcloak suffered electrocution before a shard of ice slams through his helm at high velocity while the fourths muscles locked up and was taken care of by a dagger sawing through his throat. As my companions rush after me they slow as they observe the carnage wrought by an angry mage. Hadvar opens his mouth, thinks better of it seeing my irritation hasn't abated much, and motions for Lokir to help him search the bodies. By the time they finish, I have searched the one killed with my dagger, having cleaned and sheathed it already, finding a handful of coins and some arrows, which I appropriate; as well as taking his very nice though slightly smoldering fur boots. He also has a dagger which I take before I look around. Spotting my companions, my irritation finally calms and I motion further down the tunnel with my head and move off. Through a bridge which is collapsed after we pass, we continue on and find an actual cave tunnel entrance.
Making out way further into the cave system we stop at the mouth of a tunnel heading downwards. Feeling the walls, my hand comes away sticky, something I notice with a frown.
"Guys, remember those Frostbite Spiders you mentioned? I think we've found them. If you don't mind I think I'll hang back, I'm really not fond of spiders big enough to ride around on." I explain, casting Ebonyflesh and Tree Rings on my companions before readying the strongest flame magic I could use.
"The big bad mage is scared of spiders? Wow…" Lokir teases me, I merely flip him off.
"Not all spiders, just ones big enough to ride that are intent on eating my face, no spider should get that big." I explain with a shiver. Making our way further I get a look at the nest teeming with spider eggs and surrounded by four or five dog sized spiders that snap to look at us the moment we enter their domain.
"By the nine! Kill it with fire! Kill it! Kill it! Die! Die! Die!" I snap, casting overpowered Fireball and a modified Ice Storm that uses fire magic instead of frost that I tentatively named Fire Spin, until my shoulder is tapped. Looking around sheepishly I see the entire nest is in ashes, the ground underneath looking slightly melted.
"Sorry, I really don't like giant spiders." is all I offer to my companions, who are now sweating like pigs from the heat of my attacks. They share a glance before moving out of the nest silently, I hasten to follow.
Carefully making our way out of the nest we are met with the sight and sound of flowing water, glowing mushrooms and vines along the walls. Under-powering a Candlelight spell gives us enough light to work with without ruining our vision. Making our way through the cave tunnels we stumble upon a few skeletons, beside them are coin purses we eventually stumble across three so we split them between us. Finally we stumble into a vast open space, only to stop and crouch when we hear the shuffling of something large nearby. Sneaking our way forward, we eventually take cover behind a particularly large stalagmite and peek out. Hadvar is the only a second ahead of Lokir in identifying the noisemaker as a cave bear. Taking it on is more trouble than its worth so we sneak by, eventually discovering the cave exit. Stepping outside the cave, the dragon startles us causing us to dive for cover, but flies away just over a ruin on the horizon.
(Edit 4-9-2020: Cleaned up some grammar and punctuation, some errant capitalization too. Nothing content wise has been added.)
So, this wouldn't stop bugging me and as I don't quite know where I'm going with Walking Worm, I was working on this to give me time to think. I am a little undecided on how I'm going to work the bit in Skyrim. I'm thinking that I'm going to take a chapter for each quest line, combining them where they are short or similar.
I'm also wondering how long I can go without mentioning my characters first name. I'm tempted to keep it quiet for as long as possible but I just don't feel right doing that. Anyways here is a stat sheet.
As a note:
Novice = 1-24
Apprentice = 25-49
Journeyman = 50-74
Expert = 75-99
Master = 100
One handed 50
At Drop In
One handed 65
Light Armor 30
One handed 75
Light Armor 50
Any spell can be slightly modified pre-cast where there is an "X" for either stronger/weaker or shorter/longer effect.
Ghostwalk - Caster is invisible for X seconds or until broken, then teleports back to where the spell was cast.
Drop Zone - Creates a ring of cushioning magic at the target location. Anyone falling takes no damage when falling into the ring.
Healing Blossom – Activates X seconds after casting and lasts X seconds. The blossom heals the caster X points per second.
Natures Balance - Swaps the Health percentages of the caster and a living target.
Tree Rings – Target gains X layers of tough plant skin, each increasing maximum Health by X points. Layers gradually fall off over the course of X seconds.
Flashbang – A concussive orb of light and sound that stuns and disorients the targets. Double effectiveness on targets with enhanced senses or in dark enclosed areas.
Manipulate – Unlock – Unlocks a lock equal to the caster's lockpicking skill. Depending on lock difficulty can require next to no focus to absolute focus.
Chameleon 50% - Spell lost near the end of the 3rd era. The target blends with the environment, the higher the percentage the more it blends. At 50% the caster is still visible but is near invisible in darkness as long as they arent moving. At 100% perfect invisibility is attained, rumors state the Champion of Cyrodiil possessed a set of clothing enchanted to achieve 100% Chameleon which he used to occasionally fuck with people. Oh and become the greatest thief and assassin of the era.