I, Draugr chapter 29 (Patreon)

P.S. Just to clarify and avoid confusion, the current events of this chapter are all happening at the same time as Rahgot waking up.

Hildr lets out a low breath as a shiver runs down her spine from the cold.

Even with the magical wards around the College not allowing the glacial air in, the air was still cold enough to be felt, and she didn't really have pure Nord blood flowing in her veins.

Which she disliked. She'd love to have their natural resistance to the cold, where they could walk out into a blizzard bare-chested and barely even feel the chill.

Thankfully, her element was Fire, so it helped stave off the cold.

Her Spirit lets out a rumbling sound as his flaming form swells, warping the air with the heat he releases, warming her up with ease.

The crackling of the flames eased her nerves too as she tried to steer her thoughts away from her little sister. Never before did they spend even a whole day away from each other, and now it was nearly over two weeks since she last saw the wild beast that is Gretel.

Hildr shudders at the thought of the atrocities she unleashed upon Whiterun so far, especially after having been in contact with Leonidas.

Shaking away those thoughts, Hildr returns her gaze to the large practice room she had taken for herself. There were quite a few, all with magical wards capable of withstanding insane amounts of power thrown at them so to let the students cut loose in their practices.

These rooms were also used for duels, and there were enough of them that Hildr never had to wait for one to be free so to have it all for herself.

Embers flicker around her gloved fingers as she calls on her Fire Magic, warming herself up even more while giving her back a stretch.

She tried to practice Chanting and see how much each Chant empowered a Spell, and it was… Weird.

She didn't really understand how it actually worked, just that it somehow did. She could feel it, each time she whispered a Word that matched the Spell, its power would swell.

At first, just a little bit, then a lot more near-instantly, making her understand why it was something so hard to master and could lead to Spells just going out of control and exploding on their caster.

This reminded her of that trick Leonidas taught her, one she spent quite a while practicing and mastering too.

To her, it felt the same. Drawing in oxygen or Magicka basically did the same thing, just in two different ways.

Letting her flames suck in the surrounding oxygen was much easier, as it was constant and in a stream she learned how to control.

Chanting instead was different, as she needed to keep fine control over the flow of Magicka, and swiftly fix it after a Chant lest the Spell goes out of control.

She had no trouble with that so far, but it did get way too hard at the Sixth Chant, where the Magicka flow had been way too to her expectations and swiftly overwhelmed her.

Luckily, her Spirit just gulped down the near human-sized fireball before it could explode, treating it like a nice snack.

Either way, she learned a lot from that. By the Fifth Chant, her simple fireball had grown five times stronger, and then she could let it drawn in oxygen and compress it to further power it up.

For now, she did not wish to touch High-End Chants. At least, not until she hasn't mastered Ward Skin, or have Leonidas with her as extra assurance.

Still, the fact that she could turn such simple Spells into such powerful weapons did put a smile to her face. She just needed to learn how to power them up in as little time as possible, then she'll be set.

The only problem she faced was Ash Magic. She couldn't get it to work with Chanting, as it was too chaotic. She had to keep the overflowing smoke and heat under control, which meant focusing on two things at once.

The failures disappointed her a bit, but nothing that ruined her mood. Ash Magic still worked wonderfully as an environmental hazard that could explode with a snap of her fingers, so it was still an easy to use weapon in her arsenal.

"Having trouble, buddy?" She asks her Spirit, receiving an angry growl mixed with the crackling of raging flames.

Sometimes, she really is glad that she formed a relationship with this guy when she was young, as she knows how violent and aggressive Fire Spirits are.

Her buddy is like that too, but at least he listens to her.

And it was a good thing that there was no one around, else they'd be used as stress relief by her very angry flaming Spirit.

Having it learn how to draw in Magicka by itself was… Hard. There was still no progress, and Hildr really didn't know if she was missing something, or if her explanation and advice was lacking.

"It's alright, we'll figure it out in time." Her flaming Spirit growls, his flames lighting up with greater heat in a clear show of annoyance, but soon die down as his form slumps. "Take a break, big guy." A burst of embers from his nostrils is her answer before the massive flaming beast disappears in flickering flames.

Hildr scrunches up her nose, wondering if it is time she leaves the College for a bit so to hunt something down. Frost Trolls are very, very common around these parts, and they could be good targets for her to let her Spirit unwind.

Shrugging her shoulder, the red-haired woman swiftly makes her way out of the practice room, the sounds of Spells being fired and tested reaching her ears as she turns her gaze to the other doors in the hallway, each having a rather large practice room beyond it.

They were quite the commodity, she had to admit, especially since they all lay right below the dorms, just a staircase away.

She soon ascends the stairs, wondering if she should check if Leonidas is around before checking the request board out front, but her thoughts are interrupted by someone speaking up.

"I thought I smelled the stench of a mutt." A scratchy voice reaches Hildr's hear, making her turn around and narrow her eyes at the hunched over robed figure standing by the stairs going to the second floor of the dorms.

Even with the hood covering her features, Hildr can easily make out the vile sharpened features below it. Long, pointy and curved nose, wrinkly skin, and a face that is extended like a bird's beak.

Recognition hits Hildr instantly, making her hands curl and her lips nearly pull up into a snarl, showing her sharp canines, "Didn't know they allowed Hags near civilization." She growls out, embers flicking between her gloved fingers as she glared bloody murder at the Hagraven before her.

The Hag laughs, an ugly scratchy sounds that was not human and that shook her whole hunched over figure, "They let stinking feral dogs like you linger around, so why not an accomplished Witch such as me?" The Hag's words made Hildr's snarl grow, nearly making her drown the hallway into a sea of flames just to hear the bitch before her squeal.

Hagravens used to be servants and devout worshipers of Hircine entire Eras ago, but the original ones, granted immense power by the Daedric Prince at their own request, ended up betraying his desires, demands and expectations.

So they were cast aside and cursed, ripping away all of their senses aside from their sense of smell and hearing, and forcing their bodies to be old and weak.

The worst part of this Curse is that Hagravens cannot warn others to not undergo the Ritual to become one. Knowledge of the Curse cannot be shared, and only those loyal to Hircine are even aware of it.

Hagravens know of it, but are stopped from giving warnings, forced to watch others fall to the lure of power and be stuck with a disgusting appearance and weak body, unable to savor food or see well. Even their hearing wasn't that good, in fact.

Like so, the Curse never dies out, for it'll keep existing until there are living Hagravens. A cruel punishment Hildr finds very fitting for these useless old things.

"An 'accomplished' Witch that practices Black Magic." Hildr sneers, but the ugly Hag lets out another peal of horrid laughter at her words.

"Necromancy is Black Magic too, yet it is taught here, you stupid mutt." Hildr snarls, losing her cool, but she suddenly stops and blinks instead of lashing out as she notices something behind the hunched over Hag.

Or, well… Someone.

"Talks the ugly ass bitch with a face uglier than a horse's asshole." Leonidas cuts in, his voice jovial, yet it sends shivers down Hildr's spine.

The Hag instantly whirls around at his sudden intrusion, and a horrifying scream soon fills the hallway right after the disgusting sound of bone snapping.

"Keep your voice down, please." Leonidas chides, clenched fist squeezing down on the long nose of the Hagraven, now turned into a bloodied pulp within his grasp, the whimpering Hagraven quivering and whimpering in his grasp. "I heard the very… unpleasant words you used to describe my lovely friend here…"

"And now I am looking for a reason to not turn you into a bloody stain on the wall." Leonidas leans down, his robes ruffling and his masked face moving so to better stare into the Hag's pale eyes, "It won't hurt, I promise. There will just be bits and pieces of you over here, there and up above."

A squeeze of his fist earns a yelp and whimper from the trembling hunched over hag, "We don't want that, do we?" The Hag shakes, trying and failing to speak or even move her head with her shattered nose in his grasp.

"Good!" Leonidas cheerfully states, letting go of the shattered nose to pat the Hag on the shoulder, wiping her blood on her own robes as he does so, "There is also a very big drop so close by, and I'd love to hear you scream on your way down!" He threatens with a tone one would use to discuss the weather, making a smile spread on Hildr's face.

"Now, don't let me keep you! I'm sure ugly bitches like you got a stable to return to, no?" He straightens himself and fixes his robes…

Before bitch slapping the hag to the side with a "So fuck outta my way, torta." call, nearly sending the stumbling Hag down the stairs as he skips ahead towards her with a jovial "Hildr!" call that has her snort.

"Ah, finally!" He exclaims as he stops before her, "Something beautiful to stare at!" And Hildr instantly flushes and chokes on air at his jovial words, "Lemme tell ya, I just ran into the ugliest thing in the world! Nearly died of a heart-attack, ya know? Would've been a real shame…"

Hildr really wanted to punch this asshole, but she knew it would be useless. He'd probably taunt her more if she did!

"You're growling at me?" Leonidas question, tilting his head like a curious cat while the glowering and furious Hag swiftly makes her escape, "How cute!"

Hildr's flush gets ten time worse, and she bares her teeth furiously at the idiotic man before her, "Leo, I am going to bite you."

Her threat is ignored.

"Is-" Leonidas starts as he raises an arm and a finger, then stops himself momentarily… Only to resume with a nervous voice, "Is that 'cause I am a bag of bones or-" He stops talking when Hildr conjures a fireball in her hands.

Slowly, his hand goes back down to his side, "...You kinda did walk into that one." He childishly sulks while kicking the ground like a scolded child.

Hildr dispels her fireball and drags a hand along her face while letting out a long, deep sigh. And also to cover her smile, while reminding herself that punching Leonidas will just hurt her hand.

Shaking her head and dropping her hand, Hildr gives the still sulking idiot before her a warm and fond look before speaking up, "Thanks for helping me with the bitch." She starts, nodding towards the stairs, "I lost my cool there."

Leonidas swiftly recovers and waves her thanks off nonchalantly, "Bah, don't mention it." He states with a shrug, "I'm surprised those things are allowed in here, but oh well… Want me to-" He halts his words and instead lifts his hands, making a show of tying a rope before pulling to tie a knot.

Hildr's lips twitch into a smile, "Thanks, but I'll handle her." She just needs an excuse to turn the ugly crone into ashes. One that does not implicate her stay at the College.

Leonidas shrugs again, "I'll introduce her to just a tiny bit of my… harmless tomfoolery." Oh, Hildr was fully on board with that.

The feral smile on her face couldn't grow any bigger, but alas, that was a mistake.

Because Leonidas instantly pounced forward with an excited gasp, "Sharp canines! So cute!" He exclaims, one gloved finger shakily reaching forward to poke at her teeth.

Hildr screams, flush coming back full force as she swats the gloved hand away, "Will you fucking quit it?!"

"Never!" The bastard whines like a child, "Let me annoy you, woman!" And then the fucker starts poking at her sides mercilessly.

Her ticklish sides.

Hildr shivers, snorts, then screams again and puts the dumb bag of bones in a choke-hold, "I swear upon Lord Hircine that I will slam your empty skull against the wall!"

Leonidas gasps, arms stretching wide to the side, "No! Don't do it!" He cries out in fear, surprising Hildr, "You'll hurt the wall!" Hildr stops and looks down at the idiot in her clutches.

Said idiot tilts his head up to stare right back at her through his mask, and Hildr could still somehow see and feel that annoying innocent smug smile on his non-existent face.

That's when Hildr becomes super aware of their proximity, and what Leonidas's head is resting against… But thankfully she remembers that he can't feel anything, so Hildr lets go of the building embarrassment together with Leonidas.

Who snaps back straight like a spring being released, "Huh… My head did not meet the wall. Shocker."

Hildr's knuckles pop, "I can rectify that."

"A hug will suffice!" Her lone eyes gives the idiot another flat look, making him drop his arms with a fully body pout.

Still, the interaction does bring a smile to her face, "I was actually coming to look for you." She reveals, making Leonidas right back up.

"Two great minds think alike, it seems!" He exclaims, and she nearly punches him just for insinuating she is as crazy as him, but lets it go. Because she is nice. Yes.

"You were looking for me too?" She questions, and Leonidas nods.

"Just came back from a trip to the city, and went back up to the room to see if you were around, kinda forgetting that I can now just… see where everyone is. Kinda." Right, that crazy thing he told her he mastered, and warned her not to do.

"Either way, I just grabbed…" He pauses, then fishes into his large sleeves and pulls out a massive stack of paper. He takes a few seconds to count them, before shrugging and giving up, "I just grabbed all the requests on the board outside. Wanna join me? I gotta deal with a bandit problem nearby too, so the company would be lovely."

Huh… Hildr now kinda hated the fact that they did in fact have the same thought.

She'll never reveal it.

"Why not, my Spirit is getting itchy for a fight, and I'd love to stretch my legs." Yes Hildr, act like this was not what you were planning all along. He'll never know-

"Plus, you can use this chance to hunt for Hircine." Leonidas points out as he moves towards the doors leading outside and opening them for her.

Hildr swiftly moves outside, mostly to use the cold to force down the flush on her cheeks, and ignore the nice feeling in her chest.

She actually hated how he remembered how due to having to take care of Gretel, she couldn't hunt and give offerings to her Lord as much as she liked.

It was something she mentioned in passing. Weeks ago.

And he remembered it.

She really wanted to punch him for that.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." Hildr instead forces her voice to be calm, while hoping her face is back to normal as the humming Undead picks up the pace so to walk beside her. "Though… I do wonder if he likes Frost Troll meat…"

She did hear that some people liked it, as it had a lot of fat and could be fried, making for a nice delicacy, though it had quite the strong flavor.

She had to try it for herself. Meat has always been her weakness.

"That's a fair worry." Leonidas points out, then just shrugs, "Let's just ask the guy then!" Hildr blink her lone eye and turns towards Leonidas, mouth opening to question how he was going to exactly that-

Only for her to watch as he brings out a squealing rat from inside his sleeve.

Why the fuck did he have a live rat in his sleeve…?

Absolutely shocked and out of words, Hildr watches as Leonidas lifts the squealing fat rat up, then uses his fat hand to tap away on its belly while making 'Beep, beep, boop' noises.

Then he lifts the rat towards his ear, "Yo, Hircine! My homie! My buddy ol' pal! Do ya like Frost Troll meat or is that a no?"

Hildr moves to speak, finding immense amusement in the scene before her, but she still wanted to tell Leonidas that there was no way this could work-

"Must you contact me in such a way?" Hildr gapes as her Lord's flat voice comes through the now quiet rat with glowing blood red eyes.

Leonidas pulls the rat away from his 'ear' to stare at it before shrugging, "Don't tell me you don't like my Rat Phone idea. Handy, quick to use, and they are everywhere!" The fuck is a phone?

"I have no knowledge on what this 'phone' is…" Her Lord sighs out, "But it is handy indeed. I shall keep this in mind."

Hildr throws her arms in the air in exasperation. Her Lord was being corrupted by Leonidas!

"You are welcome, buddy!" Any mortal daring to call a Daedric Prince buddy would usually be erased out of existence.

Leonidas instead just gets a flat look from a Divine Possessed fat rat.

"So! Frost Troll meat! Yes or no?"

"It is an adequate delicacy. I do not mind." Hircine sighs out, and Hildr swears she saw the fucking fat rat shrug, "I would not mind some Horker meat either. You should try it yourself too, my child." And with those last words, Hircine's faint presence disappears, and the rat starts squealing in fear again.

"There we go! Knowledge gained!" Leonidas exclaims, tossing the 'Rat Phone' aside, its squeal of fear growing fainter and fainter as it falls down the massive drop leading to the frigid waters below.

Hildr stares at Leonidas as they walk.

He quietly stares at her right back.

Then suddenly freezes for a short second before bolting to the side of the bridge and looking down below, "Fuck! Remy, no!"

...He even gave the rat a name…

"Alright, where were we?" And the idiot was back at her side.

Hildr snaps, "Will you fucking quit with these mood swings!?"

"Apologies, it's that time of the month…" He bashfully states, nearly making Hildr pop a vein.

It took the willpower of every Divine and Daedric Prince out there for her to not drop the bastard so that he could join his goddamn rat.

Why must she suffer like so?

                                                               ~~XXX~~

Gretel kicks her legs while gnawing on the table in front of her, eyes droopy from how bored she was feeling.

Why did Aela drag her here again?

Ah right, she tied that drunk idiot that yelled at her to two horses, and had them run in two different directions.

The guy was screaming as if he was being torn in half. Some people really over-exaggerate the situation they are in…

Still, Gretel decided that maybe listening in on the meeting going on in Dragonsreach could be worth it. She had a feeling her sister's letter was coming soon, so if she sent back some useful information she'd feel very satisfied.

"So the Moot will finally take place?" She hears the leader of the Companions question, a tall and imposing older man called Kodlak Whitemane, "I fail to believe that Ulfric finally accepted the invitation."

Gretel draws her teeth back from the table and instead drops her chin on it, eyes narrowed in mild interest now.

Aela was sat right beside her, at one of the massive tables filled with food inside Dragonsreach, with several of the Companions higher members and the Jarl Balgruuf trusted aides.

Now, if the Dunmer woman would stop glaring her way, Gretel would feel better.

It ain't like she goes around causing trouble for all of Whiterun!

"I believe he did not accept it so to put the Civil War on hold." Balgruuf state, heavy frown on his face, "During the Moot, everyone who opposes him will be there, after all. From every Jarl to their closest aides."

Oh… Gretel instantly realizes why Ulfric would want to be there then. All of his opposition gathered in one place, within reach of a sword or arrow.

Or a Shout.

"By Talos… He has truly lost his mind." Kodlak sighs deeply, and Gretel held her mouth. She really wanted to point out how he had lost his mind a long time ago.

After all, he did break the Oath the Graybeards forced him to take in order to learn how to wield the Thu'um.

He broke the Oath of the Graybeards. The elders who are nearly worshiped by all of Skyrim.

Gretel wonders how Ulfric still even has a following.

"Do we know how many Jarls are taking Ulfric's side?" A man dressed in fine clothes questions, and Gretel doesn't even bother trying to remember his name. She does know that he is with Balgruuf, though.

Balgruuf leans forward on his throne in thought, "Markath is a maybe. Dawnstar was recently taken by the Imperials… So only Riften? His previous capture did weaken him massively."

Gretel hums, trembling in place for a bit before she couldn't hold herself back, "Falkreath too!" She calls out, drawing many eyes towards her, but she doesn't shy away from the attention.

Instead of chiding her, the Jarl raises a curious brow, "Why do you say that, child? The current Jarl supports the Imperials. Of that I am sure."

Gretel nods, having met the pathetic and lazy dumbass on many occasions. Mostly due to some of her nastier pranks. "He does, but no one really listens to him." She points out, "Everyone in Falkreath supports Ulfric and the Stormcloaks, and the Jarl's uncle – the previous Jarl – is the one they actually listen to."

It was actually something quite easy to notice, especially if people simply paid attention when going around Falkreath.

The place was very focused on the old ways, especially the worship of Talos. Gretel had seen many carry necklaces or trinkets of Talos around even recently.

So it was natural that all of Falkreath simply and blindly supports Ulfric only because they do not want others to dictate who they should or shouldn't worship.

Hence, Gretel knows very well that Ulfric just needs a few charming words to convince the whole of Falkreath to take his side and join his troops.

Which she hopes doesn't happen, as her granny is still there, spending the last bit of her old life away.

Kodlak rumbles out a low hum as he strokes his beard, "Yes, the child speaks truth, my Jarl." The senior Companion states, "Siddgeir is new, and is only loyal to money, while he does not hold the loyalty of the people. His uncle Dengeir instead…"

Balgruuf sighs heavily, leaning back against his throne and palming his face, visibly aging dozens of years in seconds, "Why must everyone be so difficult during such dire times…" The Jarl grumbles, earning the sympathy of those within the meeting.

Gretel scrunches up her nose as she steals a cut of cheese from the table before her, making sure to remember to inform Leonidas and the others about the Moot finally being set as she does so. She'd have to find out the exact date too.

"We must simply brace ourselves, and prepare Whiterun for the storm that is to come." Kodlak Whitemane sighs deeply, faint worry within his voice, "And pray that if all goes well, someone better than Ulfric takes the title of High King."

Gretel snorts, then scrunches up her nose at the potent taste of the cheese, "Ain't that hard, really." She grumbles aloud, drawing her hand back before throwing the slice of cheese into the large fireplace in the middle of the large hall, "Even Sheogorath would be a better High King than Ulfric."

The cheese lands into the fire, and the fireplace instantly swells, the flames turning dark purple and releasing insane cackling laughter for a few good seconds before going back to normal.

Everyone slowly turns to stare at Gretel as she sighs and drops her chin on the table, a bored look in her eyes, "See? He agrees with me."

As one, all present decided to just ignore what just happened.

                                                          ~~XXX~~

"Well, I guess now we know why there were so many sightings of Frost Trolls around the area." I should have thought about it, really.

There were literally more than a dozen missions about Frost Trolls at the College, each one a sighting of one not far from the city.

And yes, some of the missions could be about the same Frost Troll having been sighted more than once… But I know for a fact that it was not that this time around.

Why?

I pat Hildr's back as she screams into her gloved hands, clearly wishing she could set her remaining eye on fire together with her brain.

We found the Frost Trolls. All of them, together.

Having one hell of a fucking orgy.

It's mating season for them, apparently. Their sighting near the city is because they smelled a female human and wished to… well, abduct her, but got scared by the sheer numbers of people in the city and swiftly retreated.

So they started fucking each other. In a massive opening between two shattered ice caps.

And we walked in on them.

Needless to say that Hildr set them all on fire while screaming like a banshee and throwing her Spirit at them, leading to a rather… brutal massacre.

There is blood quite literally everywhere.

Still, aside from wishing I could bleach my eyes after seeing that horror, this encounter was actually quite… fortuitous.

There were roughly eighteen Frost Trolls having fun down there, and each one had was a Greater Soul.

So now I have eight normal Souls, and nineteen Greater Souls.

This is fucking amazing. Hence, I won't stand on courtesy.

[Conjure Beasts]

Proud Beastsof nature, seasoned warriors of many hunts and battles among their kind. Reach into Oblivion and the Hunting Grounds to Conjure them to your side and let them feast on your foes.

(Current available Beasts; Flaming Familiar, Dire Wolf, Hunting Bear, Scout Crow)

Modification/s:Minion Up! X6 Strength Boost! X2

(5/5)

Spell 'Conjure Beasts' has been Maxed!

Spell 'Conjure Beasts' has Evolved!

[Conjure War-Beasts]

From proud beasts of nature, to trained beasts of war bred and taught within the harshest regions of the Hunting Grounds, meant to become the strongest Hunters and Hounds of Hircine once fully grown.

(Current available Beasts; Flaming Werewolf Familiar, Werewolf, Werebear, Man-Eating Werevulture)

(0/10)

...My Thermonuclear Wolves became Thermonuclear Werewolves.

Hircine, you're a fucking homie.

I now have… sixteen Greater Souls left, and eight normal Souls.

Enough to Evolve two of my other Spells.

First, Sanctuary.

[Sanctuary]

A grand field overflowing with Holy Light, deployed with the caster at its epicenter. Injuries are healed at an accelerated rate within, Undead are set alight with Sunfire, and allies physical parameters are greatly empowered within its radius.

Modification/s; Radius! x4 Buff Strength! x8 Healing Speed Up! x4 Holy Power Up! x4

(10/10)

Spell 'Sanctuary' has been Maxed!

Spell 'Sanctuary' has Evolved!

[Terra Santa]

A Spell of immense size and power, granting nigh-immortality to those within its scope together with immense strength. Only a stab to the head or decapitation can bring one down when under this Spell, and reattaching limbs becomes as easy as breathing within its scope.

Weak Undead find themselves pulverized under the Holy Light of this Spell, while those that can resist find themselves massively weakened and under constant Sunfire assault.

(0/20)

Oof… Holy – literally – fucking shit… This became a lot more overpowered than I thought.

Not that I am disappointed. I am actually very happy, I just hope that my reserves are enough for this monstrosity of a Spell.

I also have a strange feeling that soon enough, I won't be able to use Souls for Evolving Spells normally. Or at least, normal Souls.

I'll surely start needing either Grand Souls, or even Dragon Souls.

Oh well, that's a problem for future me. I've already had a feeling that soon enough, normal Souls won't be enough to help me Evolve.

Either way, time to focus on the one Spell that will make it or break it.

I hope this crazy gamble works.

[Winter's Wrath]

A Domain of glacial, biting winds with no mercy, and sharp, deadly icicles flying around faster than the eye can perceive.

Once cast, this Spell does not differentiate between friend or foe.

Modification: Domain Size! x12,

(10/10)

Spell 'Winter's Wrath' has been Maxed!

Spell 'Winter's Wrath' has Evolved!

[Fields of Cocytus]

This Spell deploys a vast domain where Soul-chilling temperatures prosper. No amount of resistance to Frost or Cold will help those standing within its scope.

All manners of Frost Magic Spells employed within this vast domain are massively strengthened, enemies find their own resistance to Frost Magic massively lowered while allies will find themselves more resistant to its effects, and enemy Fire Magic is massively weakened.

Within its scope, any hostile creature finds themselves constantly assailed by the deadly chill that assails the body, the mind, and the Soul.

(Requires 0/1 Dragon Soul to Evolve further.)

Holy fuck, gambling is indeed good!

Also, I called it. I need a damn Dragon Soul to further Evolve this Spell, but honestly? It can stay like this for a long while.

Still, this proves that my needs do indeed change and modify the Spell during its Evolution. Winter's Wrath became something I could hardly use into something that will be among my greatest weapons.

It's amazing, and it did not disappoint me one bit.

Phew, I was scared there for a second…

Now I can basically Conjure a literal small army, make them nigh-immortal and a lot stronger, and massively weaken my enemies.

And I can throw Thermonuclear Werewolves at people now.

I might be unable to Evolve myself now, but honestly? It is quite worth it, I believe.

"You okay now?" I ask Hildr as she stands, her lone eyes looking dead and depressed.

She turns to give me a haunted stare that nearly makes me chuckle, "I will never recover from the horrors I just witnessed." This time I do chuckle as I pat her back.

"On the bright side, we still have the bandits left." I point out, making her perk up, "So you have some available targets to unleash your wrath upon."

I send a short prayer towards those bandits when Hildr gives me a very feral grin.

Hot, but scary. Which… makes it hotter. It's confusing, really.

Looks like I love me some violent women with a sweet side, huh?

"Is it just the bandits left?" Hildr asks, arms crossing below her bust as the air around her starts warping from the heat of her magic as she starts warming herself up. "You did grab all the missions on the board after all."

I nod at her words, "Yeah, but the majority were about the Frost Troll sightings." She shudders at that, but I keep going, "There were some about Ice Wraiths, but finding one in this snow valley is basically impossible." I shake my head, turning my gaze to stare at the honestly breathtaking landscape before me.

We were in the large valley between Dawnstar and Winterhold, right below the massive mountains cutting the majority of the cold winds coming from the sea here.

It's a very windy area, and it is clearly a bit hard on Hildr, which makes me feel bad.

Still, I wish Aurelia was here to see this. This place is breathtaking.

The thick layers of snow glowing a near-blinding white, the distant ocean waters rushing towards the beach, and I can even see Dawnstar near the horizon.

Sometimes, places like this really make me forget how tired I am.

"Leo." I hum and tilt my head to stare at Hildr, who is staring at the landscape in front of us with a warm smile on her face, "Thank you for bringing me here."

I pause for a short second before chuckling softly, "Anytime." I rest my hands on my hips – literally – and simply enjoy the scenery, "Couldn't really leave ya and the kid in that shit-hole. Reminded me too much of home."

Hildr perks up at my words, "How so?"

I shrug, "People stuck in the old ways, and forcing their views on their children, and the children of their children. My father was like that." Despite my rocky past with him, I couldn't help but slightly miss the man. And my mother, too.

I hope they are alright.

"He planned out my whole life before I was even born, meant to follow in his footsteps and excel where he failed." I shake my head with a dry chuckle, "He wanted me to shine like a star, be more of a puppet than… Well, me."

Hildr frowns heavily, "That sounds like a shit father, no offense." I chuckle and shrug, not really angry at her words. "You didn't stick with what he wanted you to do?"

I shook my head, "Never did. Got called a disappointment and fuck-up for not following his dreams and wants, then got kicked out… And now I am here."

And honestly? Despite it not being my choice, and my body being like this… I really like this place.

It's beautiful, even with the fact that the literal apocalypse looms over the horizon.

"Well, I'm glad that you are here." Hildr hums, bumping her shoulder against me with a slight smile on her face, "Because I got to meet two wonderful people that changed my life."

I chuckle and wrap an arm around her shoulders, then give her a light shake, "I could say the same! Though I should thank Hircine, as it is through him that I got to meet two amazing sisters."

Honestly, Hircine has been an amazing source of help so far. I should really see if I can do something good for the guy.

A God that can make reality his bitch he might be, but I do want to repay him. Something to think about.

Hildr grumbles, a slight flush on her cheeks as she escapes my grasp, still clearly not used to taking compliments, "Yeah yeah, whatever." She scoffs, refusing to look my way, "So, where are these bandits?"

I cross my arms and just stare at her quietly for several long seconds. At least until she starts fidgeting in place. "You will not be able to always escape from compliments, young lady."

Hildr outright growls my way with a flush on her cheeks, "I can and I fucking will!" Look at her, baring her teeth my way. Such a cutie! I'd squish her cheeks, but I'd probably get set on fire. "Now, where's the fucking bandits? I need victims."

I pause at that, "That sounds like something I'd say…" Hildr stiffens, and I swiftly take the chance to let out a sniff and wipe away a non-existent tear from my Krosis mask, "I am so proud."

Hildr's mature response is to kick my ankle, then reel back with a curse as she gets hurt instead, "The fuck are your bones made out of?!"

"Calcium and crackhead energy."

She growls at me again as I turn my gaze towards the distant mountains directly South of us. "Come on, let's get back on the horses." I am quite glad that despite Evolving the Conjuration Spell, I still hold access to the previous minions I could summon.

The crows are quite useful, especially since I can kinda share their sight.

"You found the bandits?" Hildr blinks and perks up, giving her injured foot a light shake before setting it back down.

"Yup." I pop the 'p' with a low hum, "There's a lot more than I was told too. I'd say… More than five or six dozen for sure." This is a very big group, which is weird.

They'd need a lot of stuff to survive out here due to how dangerous the area is, plus the food requirements. Giants prefer keeping their mammoths around the large valley where Whiterun is settled, not here, so those cannot be their way of gaining food.

And Winterhold does not trade much food produce with Dawnstar, only… Weaponry, ingots and raw ores.

"That's quite a lot, yeah." Hildr muses softly, moving to retreat back to our horses, the air around her warping once more as she starts to warm herself up, "Still, I can't see any smoke, nor a camp… Which should stick out with all this snow."

That's because they have pushed the snow into a large circular hill around their campsite, obscuring them from view. As for why there is no smoke… Probably the constant wind dispersing it before it grows visible.

I mount my own horse and lead the way across the snowy terrain filled with massive ravines where the ice caps cracked apart, our large steeds navigating through it all without any problem.

I do not know what Nords feed their horses, but goddamn are they strong beasts that can tank even a blizzard and not flinch.

"You're quiet." Hildr points out after a long while of riding on horseback, "I dread what kind of horrid plan that is currently being formed within that empty skull of yours."

If I could smile, I'd take off my mask to give Hildr the most feral and insane grin in existence.

"Have you ever heard of the words 'Orbital Bombardment'?"

                                                           ~~XXX~~

Needless to say that unfortunately, Hildr – fine uncultured lady that she is – has never heard those words before, nor does she exactly know their meaning.

Beside the fact that it does not bode well, since I am the one that brought the whole thing up.

So I explained it to her, and she had the audacity to gape and pale in pure horror at my plan.

It's not even that bad! Just some harmless shenanigans! A bit of reckless tomfoolery! A silly little childish prank!

Basically, the Werevulture that I recently gained is very, very big and capable of flight, and is also able to grab and take me high up in the air.

And once very high up and above the bandit camp, I start my little plan.

And Conjure nearly sixty or so Flaming Werewolves high in the air, and let them plummet down towards the earth while howling all the while.

This does take up half of my Magicka, but when my reserves recover at near blinding speed it isn't really a problem.

So I just watch as the howling Flaming Werewolves plummet further and further down, then go 'kaboom!' all over the bandit camp like a good ol' fashioned Orbital Bombardment.

And of course the bandits sure as fuck were not ready for the sudden attack.

Each Werewolf exploded with immense force, ravaging more than half of the camp and taking who knows how many lives and nearly crippling who knows how many more bandits.

The force behind each explosion could level a two story building with ease, which delighted me a great deal.

My wonderful suicidal Familiars have grown so much stronger! I am so proud!

Alas, that isn't even the end of the first attack either. The Werevulture starts bringing me down so that I could join the fray, and from how high up I am I can see the gargantuan fireball that Hildr had just conjured right above her head while her horse runs towards the camp.

Soon, she hurls it forward. The fireball that is quickly turning a brilliant blue is hurled through the air, looking bigger than a whole house and with heat that instantly melts all the snow in a dozen meter radius around it.

The massive Spell flies across the camp and smashes down right in the middle of it, creating an immense blast that sends a shock-wave that shakes the whole valley.

The echo carries on for what must be miles, and will surely cause the nearby mountains to experience an avalanche.

Still, the fireball explodes into a powerful blast, the brilliant blue flames swelling and soon gathering so to form the immense demonic werewolf figure of Hildr's Spirit.

The flaming beast lets out a mighty bellow that is akin to a howl and roar mixed together before belching out a massive stream of brilliant orange flames all around it, setting half destroyed tents and people on fire.

I land as the chaos reaches its peak, and I am very, very surprised to see a lot of Magic being thrown around. That's… Peculiar.

I turn my gaze towards one of the closest downed bandits, and find both the weapons and clothing very familiar.

"These guys are Forsworn…" What the fuck are the Forsworn doing so far from The Reach?

...Wait, could this group be stocking up on materials and armor for their next attack on Markarth? It would make sense, since they have been attacking the caravans here.

And it would explain the why those sent to deal with them never returned. The Forsworn are quite the terrifying fighters and Mages, after all.

Either way, there is a whole lot of Magic being thrown at Hildr's Spirit, and it is clearly struggling to recover and handle everything perfectly.

Might as well give it plenty of back-up since I am at it.

More howls fill the air as three dozen massive werewolves march into the camp from a crack in Reality, followed by the massive form of good ol' Marius.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Ser Leonidas!" The Minotaur greets, large fist slamming against his broad chest as he inclines his head.

I tilt my head as I stare at the very big guy, "Did you get bigger, my friend?" The Minotaur lets out a snort, seemingly happy that I noticed his growth.

"My Lord granted me more strength after that fantastic battle you allowed me to take part in." It's also probably because of those Dragon tail offerings he took back.

Oh well, that's very good for him. "Well, go on ahead. Consider these werewolves your army."

The massive Minotaur snorts, a feral grin spreading across his jaws, showing his very sharp teeth, "No prisoners?"

"Kill and feast all you want." My words made the war-ax wielding Minotaur roar loudly, the werewolves around us letting out howls of their own before they all pounce forward like ravenous beasts.

Soon, the screams and curses filling the air grown even more as the battle gets more chaotic and… well, one-sided.

I don't bother using Terra Santa, as it'll be just too much to deal with these guys, so I just lean back and await our success.

These guys burrowed themselves very well into the side of the mountain, I gotta admit. Used the snow and the wind to their advantage, knowing that tracks are useless with all this wind and that their fires cannot be seen.

The piled up snow instead covers their camp, finishing the pretty much perfect cover.

They clearly planned this very well… I did forget about them, to be honest. Their whole Markarth thing wasn't something I focused that much on.

And honestly? As much as it pains me to say it, making sure Markarth doesn't fall to the Forsworn is very much a non-priority for me. I got bigger issues to deal with right now.

I perk up when Hildr soon walks up right beside me, a strange look in her eyes.

I lean into her field of view like the annoying fuck I am, unable to stop myself, "So, what did ya think of my wonderful Orbital Bombardment?"

Her green eye flicks up to my face, then her cheeks flush slightly as she turns her gaze away, "...It was kinda cool." She whispers softly a few seconds later, making me gasp and reel back.

Yes! I am corrupting her!

Soon, Gretel will be able to unleash horrors on people with her sister!

A sound akin to a thunderclap makes me jump and flip around, my Mind's Eye soon activating and stretching across the whole bandit camp to find the source of- "Is that an Hagraven?"

Right, Forsworn and Hagravens do stick together sometimes. The Hagravens are also those that create Briarhearts, the very powerful Forsworn.

Still… She maybe shouldn't have made her presence known?

I wince at Marius near deafening roar as he runs forward, leaps high into the air, tanks a massive thunderbolt to the chest, then brings down his massive war-ax with every last bit of strength he can muster and unleash.

The whole camp quivers from the impact.

Jesus Christ, they really hate Hagravens, huh…?

I don't think there is even a limb left of that old crone… And Hildr's satisfied grin is kinda sexy too.

I do wonder if this Hagraven had ties with the one at the College. Something to keep an eye on.

"This was quite the massacre." Hildr points out, and I turn to stare at her giant Spirit.

Who, without care, was currently slamming a dude that tried to run away into the ground. Up and down the Forsworn went, having probably died half a dozen slams before.

I slowly turn to look at Hildr. She just shrugs at me, "He's been pent up." I turn back towards the Spirit and watch it rip the Forsworn in half, look sad that he broke his toy, then toss it aside and start looking for another.

Well, Fire Spirits are indeed quite violent, so I guess that's fine.

It doesn't take long for the rest of the Forsworn to get mopped up, with the Werewolves being so fast and strong that none could try to get away, especially with Marius being a fantastic leader and commanding them all with ease.

"I think it's best we burn the corpses." Hildr points out after a bit, "I'd rather not leave so many would-be Draugrs so close to the city." Yeah, she brings up a good point.

I have the Werewolves gather the corpses – the intact ones – into the middle of the camp where Hildr launched her Spirit and left behind a decently sized crater behind.

Of course, not all corpses are gathered there, as I let the Werewolves grab one or two before sending them back.

Marius refused, looking satisfied enough with the fact that he turned an Hagraven into atoms. I really like the guy.

Hildr has her Spirit create a massive fire in the crater, setting the corpses on fire with bright blue flames that will surely turn everything to ashes soon enough.

And now, with everything handled, I can finally check my gains-

[A Soul has beenabsorbed!] x 67

[A Greater Soul has been absorbed!]

Huh… Well, goddamn. That's a lot – not enough to get stronger, but I am still satisfied.

I am just a bit away from being able to Evolve myself, but honestly, I'd rather not wait any longer.

"Hildr." I call out softly, making the woman hum and turn away from the bonfire that her Spirit is handling, "I'm… Going to do something dangerous soon enough. Once we get back."

She blinks her lone eyes, before it narrows, "I'll come-"

"No." I cut her off, putting my food down before she can insist. "I am the only one that can resist the effects coming from the island, and I'll be damned if I'll let you risk your life."

She frowns heavily at my words, biting harshly on her lower lip as he keep going, "So just… Stay sharp. If things get bad, don't hesitate on running away."

Hildr turns her gaze away, but I step into her field of view to press the issue, "Promise me, Hildr."

Her shoulders slump in defeat, and a heavy sigh soon leaves her lips, "I promise." Her lone eye soon hardens and locks onto my masked face, "But you better come back."

I chuckle and bow my head, "I promise to do my very best to come back, then."

Hildr nods, small smile on her face, satisfied with my words.

Despite that, I cannot shake how nervous I am about this.

But it's time to move my ass and pay that fucking island a visit.

                                                         ~~XXX~~

"Understanding a Shout is different between Humans and Dragons." Her ancient Dragon teacher had told her not too long ago, and Aurelia felt like she had wasted a great deal of time trying to understand something by going at it the wrong way.

But then it clicked for her. The difference.

Dragons understand Shouts through power, through the meaning of the Words within said Shout.

Humans, like her… Aurelia believes it works through emotions.

On several occasions, both during her training and before, did her emotions change how the Shout came out. Either stronger, or weaker, or more uncontrollable.

Anger fed Shouts power, but made them unstable.

Joy made them stable, but weaker.

Sadness made them weaker and end faster.

Each emotion manipulated the final result of a Shout, giving it a boon and drawback.

And so far, Aurelia leaned towards the emotion of Anger. Despite making the Shouts more unstable, she can ignore that issue as long as she aims it away from comrades.

Though, of course, by mastering her own emotions she can master the Shouts too.

Each Shout also worked better with different emotions.

The Fire Breath worked perfectly with Anger, the Unrelenting Force Shout worked well with Disgust, the Time Stop with Calm, so on and so forth.

As long as she finds the perfect emotion for each Shout, she can just master it to perfect both.

Which, obviously, is easier said than done, especially when her own control over her emotions is quite horrendous.

To not speak about how now she also needs to learn how to call upon the mystical force that is the Shehai.

A power that can heal, strengthen the body, and create constructs on par with Divine Armaments. Of course such a thing isn't easy to call upon and master.

All Aurelia knows is that it has to do with the Soul, and that she has to figure the rest by herself. Paarthurnax did not wish to hold her had for everything.

But of course, something had to happen during her training.

"Dragonborn." Aurelia startles, nearly turning towards Paarthurnax's massive form before she realizes that the voice is female, and is coming from the blade in her hands.

Aurelia blinks and stares down at Dawnbreaker's brilliant form, "Lady Meridia?" She questions, momentarily confused, "What can I do for you?"

The Daedric Prince did not waste a second before replying, "Our deal." Aurelia's eyes widen, "A Dragon Priest has awakened near Riften. Do not disappoint me."

Aurelia's takes in a sharp intake of air before her eyes narrow in anger, "Paarthurnax!" She calls out, and the ancient Dragon bows his head.

"You can go, young one." He reassures her, "This challenge has come at a good time. Use this battle learn." He advises, both confusing and delighting her.

Still, she hurried towards her belongings, mostly to retrieve the helmet of the armor Hircine had forged and gifted her.

Maybe if she abused the Whirlwind Shout, she could get to Riften as quickly as she could…

"Come, Dragonborn." Aurelia pauses just as she was about to leap off the Throat of the World, her gaze turning towards the enormous form of the Dragon whose name she still does not know.

The titanic revived beast lowers a lone massive wing, offering it to her so she could climb on his back.

Even Paarthurnax seemed surprised by the action, but soon a low chuckle leaves the ancient Dragon's jaws.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Aurelia swiftly hurries on the titanic Dragon's back, using the spiked scales along his spine to hold herself as the giant wings start beating. "Thank you!" She calls out as they take flight and depart.

The Dragon remains quiet, diving down below before rising, using the momentum to shoot across the skies at immense speeds that shouldn't be possible due to his sheer bulk and weight.

Moving across his back, Aurelia soon moves to stop on top of the Dragon's head, her eyes staring into the distance with a very heavy frown, "Thank you." She repeats as she holds the warm and bright Dawnbreaker close.

Damnable Undeads…

She shakes that anger away, her thoughts straying towards the one Undead who she longs for.

"I have some words of advice, if you wish to hear them." The revived Dragon speaks up, his loud voice audible even through the rushing wind blowing against them.

Aurelia blinks, then leans forward curiously, "Of course. I'll always welcome some advice."

The Dragon lets out a rumbling noise akin to a hum, remaining quiet for a few seconds as if to mull over the right words before speaking up, "You are afraid." He states, surprising Aurelia.

"You believe you are not strong. That the strength you currently wield is not enough to face this Dragon Priest." Aurelia clenches her fists around Dawnbreaker's handle.

"Am I not wrong to have such thoughts?" She questions softly, looking down in shame.

"It is, and it is not." The Dragon comforts, "You are both Human, and Dragon. Your Human side is very sensitive to emotions, while your Dragon side only shines if you let it."

Aurelia blinks, then tilts her head in confusion, "How do I let that side of me shine?"

The Dragon chuckles, "When your Human side is afraid for a battle, then let your Dragon side take control."

"For a Dragon, a worthy battle is everything. Death can have us proud Dragon when it earns us."

"So view this Dragon Priest as a worthy opponent, not as a being you should fear. A whetstone to grind yourself again, and make the sharpness buried deep within you come to the surface."

Aurelia grits her teeth. The Dragon was right.

She couldn't let fear hold her down. Her trauma from the past kept her nervous and always afraid towards Undead, even those she knew were weaker than her.

But this was a Dragon Priest. The strongest and most trusted soldiers of the Dragons.

And she's supposed to view it as a whetstone?

That thought… That thought excited her. She liked the idea of it.

A filthy and cruel Undead such as that deserved to be treated as not a threat, but as a training dummy.

The mere thought nearly made Aurelia laugh, the nervousness and fear now at the back of her mind.

She could do this. She had to.

"What can you tell me about this Dragon Priest?"

The Dragon below her lets out a cold snort, "Rahgot, a mad attack dog that was not afraid to do the unthinkable. He loved torture and senseless slaughter, and was feared for his immense physical strength. I do not know what power his Mask holds, unfortunately."

A physical fighter? Aurelia relished at that. Krosis was a Mage and kept her at a distance and deprived her of the Thu'Um, but now this Dragon Priest wielded her own greatest strength.

A fine whetstone indeed.

Perhaps this is what Paarthurnax wants? For her to sharpen herself, grow out of her fear, become more confident in her own strength.

And to use this battle to learn. Perhaps to draw on the power of the Shehai, or to master her Anger, or maybe both or none.

The ancient Dragon always confused her when he wasn't direct, but it did not anger Aurelia. She couldn't have everything handed to her.

Breathing in, Aurelia strengthens her resolve… Before her mind wanders momentarily as one of her hands rise towards her bust.

Tucker away beneath the breastplate was a small slip of torn paper. One holding three words that always warmed her heart, and made it ache oh so much.

"I miss you."

The memory fills Aurelia with unimaginable strength, a massive smile spreading across her face beneath her helmet.

She was going to grind Rahgot to dust, then show off to Leonidas! He'll surely praise her lots!

"We are there." The Dragon below her speaks, and Aurelia perks up.

Her gaze narrows and sharpens as she stares far into the distance, towards the destroyed landscape and the massive pit into the earth.

A pit filled with disgusting and vile looking black sludge that overflowed, and released an army of horrors upon the earth.

Aurelia shudders in disgust at the sight, never having thought that she'd see one of the vilest Necromancy practices before her.

The Pit of Damnation. An ancient and forbidden Necromancy ritual that requires decades if not centuries of effort, and thousands of sacrifices.

A huge pit is dug into the earth, and then victims are hung above it and made to bleed into it before dropping them down into their own blood.

More and more corpses and sacrifices are added, together with disgusting poisons from all over.

As time passes by, the blood changes, diseases fester, and those thrown into the pit come back as Undead abomination dripping with poisoned blood.

Seeing the army of Undead creatures rushing towards the clearly and visibly damaged and recovering city makes Aurelia draw in a sharp intake of air as her chest burns with her rising fury.

"Fly me above the edge of the city, please." She requests the Dragon below her, not wishing to waste time as she can see the guards panic while the army of Undead draws closer.

She won't let it. That city visibly suffered enough.

The Dragon dives and flies low, and soon Aurelia steps off and lets herself fall down below, uncaring of the height she was at.

She falls down like a meteorite, her knees bending to better disperse the impact she didn't even feel, and soon her form straightens as she rises and steps out of the crater to face the incoming horde of squealing and screaming abominations.

Aurelia breathes in, and the Dragonborn breathes out.

Dawnbreaker lights up with near blinding light and heat that warps the air around her, and her right foot stomps forward.

The land cracks as she breathes in through cracked teeth.

She had never used this Shout before. Not once since the titanic Dragon gifted it to her after their battle outside Falkreath.

Earth, Stone, Wrath. A Shout aimed towards the land below her feet.

Both hands grip the handle of Dawnbreaker.

The army draws closer.

                                                             "GOL-!"

The Earth cracks open.

                                                             "GOLZ-!"

The very valley shudders as she spins on her heel, Dawnbreaker cleaving through the air in high slash that rises, then falls towards the ground.

The heated blade carves a molten trench as it flies by.

                                                                 "BAH!"

The blade slashes skyward, and the very earth is sheared off the bedrock below on its passing.

The very valley howls and screams as the Dragonborn commands its very bowels to rise from the deepest depths.

An earthquake of unimaginable magnitude splits the earth apart, jets of magma erupting skyward and raining down on the land below as a rain of death.

Gargantuan spires made out of compressed stone and bedrock stab skyward, skewering anything in their way to paste.

Ravines, geysers of magma and spires of earth cover the landscape before the Dragonborn.

With a lone Shout, she called forth the anger of Mother Nature upon the filth before her.

Now, to reach Riften, the ravaged army of Undead abomination will need to traverse an unforgiving land of death. An impossible task for their minds incapable of intelligent thought.

The Dragonborn breathes out and brandishes Dawnbreaker, then lifts her furious gaze towards the sky above, so to stare at the floating masked figure.

Her blade rises and is pointed towards Rahgot, a clear sign of challenge.

The flying Dragon Priest visibly clenches his hands, displaying the very signs of his name. Anger.

Uncontrollable anger.

So he silently accepts the challenge by simply starting to descend from his flight, his greatsword forged from the bones of dragon held within his shaking grip.

And as he descends further below, the roars of countless Dragons fill the air.

Four winged beasts rise into view from four different directions, each of different sizes and colors, yet each with one goal in mind.

To challenge the Dragonborn now that she is away from Paarthurnax.

Dawnbreaker is slowly lowered, its heated tip resting on the ground below.

Aurelia breathes in.

Her thoughts stray back towards a conversation she had with the one she longs for the last night they spent together.

"There is a Shout made by mortals. The very first one made by them, in fact. It was made to combat Dragons."

His words ring within her mind, and her hands clench into fists while roars fill her ears.

"It weakens them, forcing them to experience mortality. A Shout meant to harm a Dragon's Soul. It'll be your greatest weapon in the future… And I honestly do not know if you can master it by just knowing the words, but oh well!"

The Dragonborn breathes out.

And then three words are spoken with a tone laced with indifference.

                                                   "JOOR-ZAH-FRUL."

The roars of Dragons soon turn into howls of pain.

Their forms, once flying proudly in the air, now plummet towards the earth like stars plucked out of the sky.

And the Dragonborn stomps forward, blade in hand, ready to reap the lives of masters and servant alike.

                                                                ~~XXX~~

"This is as far as I can take ya, young man." I turn my gaze away from the now very close island and towards the jittery and pale old man rowing the boat.

He was sweating profusely, and shaking a great deal, eyes dilated in utter terror.

"It's alright, I can take it from here." I rise and step over the edge of the wooden boat, my boot falling on the calm waves below and falling on a frozen platform.

My other foot soon joins as I freeze a great deal of water below my feet to stand on, "You should go back now. I can make my way back." The old man nods, looking very thankful, "You and the old bastard have my thanks for this."

"Bah, ya took care of them fuckin' bandits." The hunched over old man waves away my words, "Just… Be fuckin' careful, ya crazy bastard." I chuckle and nod, then turn around and start walking as the old man swiftly rows away.

I try to extend my Mind's Eyes, but the Magicka here is so fucking thick that I can barely map out the area five meters ahead of me.

What the fuck is this place?

I draw closer and closer, entire minutes flying by with just the sound of waves filling my ears until I reach the edge of the island.

It looks kinda like a bowl, so I force the frozen platform to rise so for me to reach the very top, which is dozens of meters above me.

It is a bit messy and difficult due to how much the platform starts swaying due to the water, but it's the only way for me to do this for sure.

I'd rather not take a risk with a Werevulture having an attack and dropping me while its flying due to whatever the fuck makes this island and the area around it a literal dead zone.

No fishes, no birds, no nothing. It's quiet. Eerily so.

Soon, my shaky platform reaches the top, and I swiftly step on it. The moment I set foot on the island is the moment I start taking it all in.

It does indeed look like a bowl. The edge of the island I am standing on is literally at the edge of what appears to be an immense crater, though it is not empty.

In the middle of the crater stands a massive structure. A building that appears to be a temple.

Tall, broken pillars line the road leading to the main doors of the temple, with said road being made of enormous bricks that survived the test of time.

Hell, some of the pillars are still intact and standing, and very few of them are broken or gone.

The road leads to a set of stairs that rises to the edge of the island, though the rest seems to end into nothing.

Clearly this island was pushed into the sea and broken off from Skyrim, probably due to the battle where Miraak got his ass beat black and blue.

I walk along the edge until I reach the stairs, then start walking down as I look around the rest of the crater.

Aside from the temple-like structure, there is nothing else. Clearly this place seems to have some form of importance.

Enough so that even after all this time, it still holds the black color of the walls surrounding it, with the structure having been made and adorned with what appears to be Dragon teeth, scales and even bones.

A temple for Dragon worship, maybe? Some kind of offering site?

I halt when I reach the road leading to the still standing and closed main doors, a strange feeling filling my very being as I look down towards the temple.

Unable to help myself, I call forth a dozen Werewolves and Marius just in case, their fur instantly standing on end as soon as they come out.

"Ser Leonidas." Marius greets, brandishing his war-ax with a visible frown, "This place… A great beast lies in wait." The Werewolves growl in agreement at his words.

I don't answer, just… stuck staring down the road and towards the temple.

"Ser Leonidas?" Marius calls out, making me snap out of my daze, "Are you alright?"

I shake my head, then breathe in, "Yeah, just…" I fall quiet, mulling over my words, "Just got hit by a sense of… Nostalgia."

Marius tilts his head at my words, then looks around at the surrounding crater, "Have you been here before, Ser?"

"That's the thing…" I point out quietly, "I have not."

What's going on?

This place… It feels familiar. Nostalgic. Like I've been here before, but also haven't.

I shake my head and step forward, "Be on guard and check the area, a Dragon might pop by anytime soon." Marius nods and steps away, leading the Werewolves to do a sweep of the crater as I walk down the road.

So close I am to the brick I am walking on now that I can see the wear caused by people walking on them, together with the scratches left behind by Dragon claws.

The road is big and wide enough for even Dragons to walk on, but why would they? What is this place?

As I draw closer to the immense doors, I realize that the temple is enormous, far more massive than even the titanic Dragon I fought outside Falkreath.

It stands tall and proud. No cracks or tears or any form of damage time and storms could have done to it.

The massive doors made of metal and having rusted slightly despite how much time has gone by have been carved into.

The drawings show Dragons, humans, Dragon Priests – This is not the war… This is…

People rising against the Dragons, fighting against them, and the Dragons… The Dragons tempt them, having them kill each other for their amusement before granting them power. The Masks.

There are dozens, if not a hundred different stories carved into these doors, and each one… Each one shows how Dragons granted others their Masks.

What they did to find those worthy to wear those artifacts and turn them into their loyal soldiers.

Accomplishment, amusement, battle, murder, cannibalism, betrayal, treachery, strength – So many ways Dragons used to find those they gifted their artifacts and turned into their servants.

But… But if this is true, why are there so few Dragon Priests around Skyrim?

Is the map we gained wrong? Or did the rest all fall during the Dragon War?

No, that's… The resistance never had such strength to fight an army of Dragon Priests.

So where exactly are all the other Dragon Priests?

Shaking away those thoughts, I lift my hands and rest them against the doors.

A loud metallic groan shakes the air as I push them open enough for me to slip in and step into the hall beyond.

Statues line the wall on each side. Statues of Dragon Priests, with a Dragon Skull hanging right above them.

Each statue is at least two dozen meters tall, and each Dragon Priest wields a different weapon or object.

A tome, a staff, a sword, a dagger, a mage, a sword and shield – Each Dragon Priest is different. Armor or robes, heavy or light.

My steps echo across the hall as I walk past the dozens of Dragon Priests statues on each side, until I finally step into the massive circular room at the end of the hall.

At the other end of the room lays a set of stairs going downward, while the room is lit up by a circular hole in the ceiling above, letting the light flow in.

The light illuminates the worn down mural covered by dust and snow below, which I ignore as I step forward.

And only come to a stop once I stand a few meters away from the enormous figure kneeling in the middle of the room.

A man wearing thick, and heavy armor made out of Dragons. Thick plates made out of Dragon bones lay on top of a full-body armor made out of scales and held together by Ebony.

Even when kneeling and hunched over, the man stands a full head taller than me, with a body more than twice my size and arms as thick as my waists.

A massive greatsword as tall as I am is stabbed into the ground beside the armored man, curved and clearly fashioned out of a Dragon's spine, it too holding a modicum of Ebony within it and along the blade and guard.

The helmet of the man is shaped like the skull of a Dragon, the jaws of the skull open enough to show the Mask beneath, it too having been made out of Dragon bones.

This man… He is an Atmoran. Like Ysgramor. I am sure of it.

Progenitors of the Nords, Imperials, Bretons… And the Giants.

Still, what draws my attention about all of this are the chains.

The glowing golden chains stabbed into… nothing. They fade into the air, as if anchored into Reality itself.

The man's harm are bound, stretched and held high to his side, bound heavily by the glowing golden chains and wrap around all of his arms and shoulders.

I breathe out and step closer, and as I do so, I notice something on the chest-plate of the bound man before me.

I pat away the dust that gathered on it to reveal the words. A name, in the Dragon Tongue.

A name that for some reason I can read very easily.

My gaze flicks up to stare at the mask hidden beneath the jaws of the dragon skull helmet.

And through the open eye-sockets of the mask, my eyes meet the blood-red eyes of the still alive and awake Atmoran bound and kneeling before.

"Nice to meet you, Deinmaar."

Deinmaar. Guardian.

This is the man who legends say has helped Winterhold be established.

A.N. And finally, we meet the one character that I am excited to write about!

I have planned so much for Deinmaar that I am jittery with glee.

You guys are gonna love him! I promise! Or… I hope.

Either way, apologies on the wait for this chapter! I've been working on the Snippets I want to post and see how much interaction they get.

I should pick up the pace, though. I'll do my best to bring more updates more quickly!

Thank y'all for the patience!

Lots of love and huggies for all the support y'all give me!

Toodles!