A/N: This story is going to attempt to recreate the world of Skyrim to be more “high fantasy” and outlandish. Rewriting some lore, the main quest, several quest-lines and play out as sort of a hero’s journey. Critique and reviews are appreciated, enjoy!
Word Count: 665
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“Dimloth catch food! Dimloth catch good food!” Dimloth muttered as he half-crawled through the ancient icy pathway.
The walls under the sea of ghosts were inscribed with old runic patterns and echoes of a time long forgotten.
“Why Dimloth only Snow Elf downs here? Where Dimloth’s friendsis goes?” Dimloth frowned as he paced back and forth through the abyss. “Dimloth no goes too far, dangerous things lies aheads of Dimloth!”
“Let go of me at once! Do you have any idea who I am?” An elven voice rung out around the corner after what felt like ages of incessant pacing on Dimloth’s part. Dimloth jumped in fright and scurried behind a nearby alcove.
A man of average height, adorned in jeweled Imperial-armor with a helmet that covered his face stepped around the corner. A group of three people trailed behind him, all wearing necromancer robes with crow-beaked masks. The robed men were holding a High Elf hostage between them.
The elf struggled and screamed for release, “I am Ancano Charmaine, prestigious member of the Thalmor! Release me immediately! Elenwen will have your head for this.” He shook wildly.
One of the crow-masked devotees punched the elf in the face, knocking him out as Dimloth watched with open eyes. Dimloth looked around for an avenue of escape, when he turned back, he saw the jewel-armored man point to him, and one of his followers shocked Dimloth with a spell. He screeched and panicked, clawing and nailing at the man, ripping his mask off and gutting his eyes out before being restrained by the other devout. Dimloth caught a glimpse of his murdered opponent’s face; a young Nord, barely old enough to grow any facial hair.
“Dimloth did nothing wrong! Dimloth only wants foods!” He cried as the caravan of men blockaded down the secret sea-room, making their way past a giant squid in a nearby pool and a room full of Dreughs.
All ceased path for the jewel-encrusted-armoured man, clearing his way as if he were a holy messenger from Akatosh himself. They came upon a ancient nordic puzzle wall, which moved away with one raise of the leader’s hand. The room that opened was a secret chamber, surrounded with serpent, wyvern, and landwyrm shaped effigies. A mote of black water, with a steeple in the center; were what stood out to Dimloth. Dimloth thought he saw a pair of yellow eyes watching him from the depths of the dark water as they crossed a makeshift wooden bridge into the center of the island, making their way up the small tower.
“In the cells,” the mysterious man whispered as they came to the top of the indoor tower.
It was a jail or something, cells lining every corner. Dimloth spotted a dead Bosmer lying in one of them, a college mage perhaps, and a Dunmer woman looking out the window, over the mote. The woman wore a gray robe and no mask, differentiating her from the armoured man’s other followers. Dimloth was thrown into the cell next to the decaying corpse of the Bosmer mage, and Ancano was shoved inside a cell with an already dead skeleton inside. The Dark Elf woman turned around and approached the man in decorative armour, she bowed before him almost presently.
“Lord Wyrmtongue,” she saluted.
“Idrasa,” he replied coolly in acknowledgement. “Get the sword and the mask. Hroct and Kantor will take care of the boy.” He turned around and stalked out, his cape billowing behind him.
“As you wish my liege.” Nodded Idrasa in her dead voice. “As you wish.”
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A/N: Please read and review. Thanks to all those that do. And yes, Dimloth is basically Gollum. And no, he’s not the primary pov protagonist.
