I’m curious to ask, just as the dragon born absorbs the souls of dead dragons once they have killed them. Is it the same for a dragon v dragon scenario? Or is that exclusive to the Dragonborn
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I would like to say that I have discovered where the Dragonborn comes from. Well, not entirely.
I was creating some new characters, starting new playthroughs, blah blah blah
And when leaving Helgen, I decided to chat with Hadvar since I don't do that very often.
When questioning about the Stormcloaks, he will say "You haven't heard of the civil war in Skyrim? I guess down in Cyrodiil people have other things to worry about."
Cyrodiil, I'd like to highlight.
Then I did the same with Ralof and got a similar answer, both with Cyrodiil mentioned.
In neither of these playthroughs was I an Imperial.
This means that no matter where the player comes from, at some point they decided to go to Cyrodiil and try to cross the border with Skyrim.
I'm definitely not the first person to discover this. But after finding out (this was a month ago) I decided to search it up online and figure out if I was the only one who didn't know. There's no mention of it anywhere.
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Yes
No
Maybe
101 Votes in Poll
(Edited by moderator)
Kiin
Story Summary: What if instead of Alduin, the main villain of Skyrim was an ominous entity known as the Stillborn. What is the Stillborn? What does it want? Where did it come from? And what if the Last Dragonborn was a power-hungry fraud, hellbent on fooling the masses that he is their messiah? Either way, it’s up to the Dragonborn, Lucien Flavius, and Alhana to figure out the mystery of the Stillborn.
A rewrite of Skyrim’s main story. A Horror remake of Skyrim w/ light supernatural and grimdark elements. (Think Skyrim with a darker twist).
Foreword: This story is a remodel of Skyrim's main story. Slight changes to the lore are inevitable for story reasons. The main character of this story is a male Nord Dragonborn named Sasha (the one from the trailers). He will be romantically paired with Alhana, a character from the upcoming Skyrim Extended Cut mod.
Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls belong to Bethesda, it just works.
Warnings: Violence, Sexual Themes, Suicidal Ideation, Gore, Drug & Alcohol Use, Abuse, Harsh Language.
Dedicated to the People of Ukraine, Palestine, Sudan, and Congo
~OoOoO~
“Most people are incapable of empathy,” – The Emperor, Caesar Tiberias.
It squirmed around and squiggled, contorting its grey body, lengthening, and stretching. Until it swallowed him whole.
“Relende sepal eipan.”
Sasha jolted awake, panting hard and covered in cold sweats. He tossed aside his blanket and got out of his small bed, staring into the mirror across from him. His room was in the attic, a column of light shining through the small circular window up top. Shelves of books lining the length on each side. The floor made of wood panels.
Sasha Kroum was a Nord, five-eleven in height, relatively muscular, twenty-five years old. He had a sharp face with prominent cheekbones and blue eyes with shoulder-length blond hair. Sun-kissed skin with deep eye-circles and a light, thin beard.
Sasha ran a hand over his tired face. He prayed to his shrine of Akatosh, showered, and changed into some proper clothes. He headed out of his room and had some breakfast before leaving his house. Bruma was a beautiful city. Snow covered log cabins decorating each neighborhood. Stone tiled flooring with the Count’s Castle in the back and lampposts stationed on each corner. Sasha passed the Chapel of Saint Martin, sidestepping the two Thalmor agents there and walking toward the Market District.
“Hail, Sasha,” called one of the Thalmor. His name was Armion.
Sasha looked towards them. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Armion stroked his chin. “I never asked, which god do you usually pray too?”
“I’m a Nord, but I don’t worship tyrants. My father was a Moth Priest, and my mother is a priestess of Akatosh. So, we worship Akatosh mainly,” Sasha explained carefully.
“See, Cirillian, I told you he was smart.” Armion clapped Sasha on the back, nodding. “You are a credit to your race, Mister Kroum.”
Sasha suppressed the urge to argue with the Altmeri soldier and turned away. He didn’t like that the Thalmor knew his full name.
While he was a Nord, he felt no sense of belonging to his race. He admired good people of all races, elves included. The prejudice between man and mer was such a stupid, childish battle in Sasha’s eyes.
His father, Fafnar and mother, Thorrun were strolling near the market stands. Some stands for meat and some for produce while others held jewelry or knickknacks.
Sasha hugged them both. “What are we looking for?” He smiled.
His father, who stood an inch taller than him, spoke, “something for tonight’s dinner.”
Sasha’s mother ran a hand through Sasha’s hair. “You’ve been through so much, we’re so proud of you.”
Hellfire streamed from the sky, melting his parents’ flesh into the snow below. Mist steaming off their corpses.
He closed his eyes.
Sasha Kroum grew up in Bruma, constantly bullied by the other kids and neglected by his parents and peers, sometimes even physically abused by his babysitters. Around age ten he began his schooling and continued until he graduated at age sixteen. He spent the first three years of school studying hard but ultimately fell short, failing several classes. He began to learn the way of the blade and bow when he was thirteen and took to it easier than studying. Around age sixteen, he started working odd jobs for the Jerall View Inn and developed his first and only crush on an Imperial girl of his class group named Juliet Carvain, niece of the Count. He spent the whole year hopelessly trying to win her affection to no avail. After seeing her courting Kavius Umbranox, an Imperial royal from Anvil, Sasha decided to run away. His parents never cared much for him, so it’s not like they’d miss him. Some corrupt guards found him asleep one day under a large oak tree and threw him into the Imperial City jail. Sasha was seventeen at the time. He spent the next many years as a prisoner. Falling into a deep depression, Sasha listlessly did whatever the warden told him to do, be it mining, farming, or cleaning. Though at the time he made a friend named Adius Vilius, an Imperial and fellow prisoner his age who became his first real friend. At around twenty-one years of age, Adius finally convinced the depressed Sasha he’d had enough of being a prisoner and they escaped.
Sasha and Adius became mercenaries, working jobs for people who commissioned them. They were both twenty-two at the time.
A necromancer hired Sasha and Adius to steal an ancient artefact (a necklace) from within the Arcane University. They acquired the relic from a noble named Atlas who was wearing it, but the plan went awry when Sasha killed Atlas and wrapped the necklace around his neck due to the fact that the piece of jewelry had an enchantment that it must be worn at all times to prevent the ghost inside escaping. They learned that the pendant inside the locket was host to the mind-fragment of a god called ‘Solat’. Solat began slowly trying to overwrite Sasha’s mind and take over his body, which would imprison Sasha as a passenger in his own body in the process. Since the necklace got banged up and opened, infecting Sasha’s mind, when he wrested it away from Atlas. The process would take a year to complete, time Sasha used to find a way to break the curse. He couldn’t remove the necklace either no matter what he tried. Sasha was haunted by Solat, and he reminded him that he would take over Sasha’s body. Sasha tried several avenues such as the College of Whispers and Scholar’s Guild to remove the necklace but to no avail. Adius consoled him during this time.
Through reliving Solat’s memories, Sasha learned that it had a partnership with Boethiah in the past. So, Sasha contacted the Daedric Prince and asked for help. Boethiah agreed if Sasha could get the Elder Scroll of the Last Dragonborn for her from the White Gold Tower. So, Adius and Sasha attempted to steal the scroll but ran into the Emperor, Titus Mede II. They managed to steal the scroll and escaped, killing the Emperor by accident. The scroll opened by chance on their way out of the city and Sasha had a vision, seeing a monstrous entity engulf all of Tamriel, all of Nirn.
And a prophecy sounded, “when misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world. When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped. When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles. When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls. When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding. The Stillborn wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.”
After giving the scroll to Boethiah, she took Sasha to another dimension where he ripped off the necklace and confronted Solat. Solat said it had spent the last year overwriting Sasha’s mind and that removing it from him will leave Sasha hollow due to the extensive brain damage. Sasha ripped off the amulet anyway and was returned to his home. Permanently free of the old god.
“Goodbye, child of my enemy,” were Solat’s last words.
Sasha returned to Bruma with Adius. His parents rejoiced at seeing him after six years and pleaded for his forgiveness. Sasha, now twenty-three, forgave them and spent the next few months healing his mind. He began to worship Akatosh and Mara too. After curing his mind, he joined the Fighter’s Guild. His expeditions with the guild made him a figure of slight notoriety within the city and eventually he caught the eye of the Count, Desilus Carvain, who employed Sasha in various political ‘tasks’. When Sasha turned twenty-four, he traveled to islands and chains near Hammerfell, doing various political mercenary work for the Count as Cyrodiil elected a new Emperor at last -- Caesar Tiberias, an affluent member the Elder Council two years younger than Sasha, rumored to have traveled to Akavir in the last year. All the while Adius joined the guards in Bruma.
Now Sasha was twenty-five, having just witnessed his parents being burned alive.
The Dragon that did it was red and giant. A Serpentine head with six limbs; four legs and two wings projecting from its back. It was the biggest animal he’d ever seen in his life, easily the size of the city. Bruma was ablaze too, the neighbors and friends and community he’d grown up with all gone. Adius and Armion’s corpses were ash on the snow. Only Sasha survived. The red dragon roared, almost like it was laughing. He noticed gold scales outlining it and filling its underbelly before it spoke to him, flapping its wings in midair.
“I am Du’uljunyol, and I want you to suffer, Sasha Kroum.” It swooped off into the distance toward Skyrim.
Sasha closed his eyes.
He didn’t remember much after that, just that he apathetically collected the remains of his belongings from the burnt hovel that was his home. He buried Adius, his parents and dog, Jacques, then made for Skyrim. Why Skyrim? He wasn’t completely sure. But the Red Dragon had flown that way, so Sasha was too.
There wasn’t much on the road save trees, some wolves, snow, and Fort Pale Pass.
The border was empty, no guards on patrol. Skyrim was snowy and a forest of trees that led into Falkreath Hold awaited him. Large pines decorating the snowscape downward. Mountain ranges of beatific make walled Skyrim off from the rest of Tamriel. Sasha stepped down the hill. He felt nothing. His whole life had been nothing short of a tragedy. So, this was nothing new. From a tormented childhood to his struggles with school to Juliet to being wrongfully imprisoned for five years to almost being killed by a missing god and now this. Nothing ever went his way, and he’d given up on life.
Sasha was shaken from his reverie when a few men garbed in fur with steel helmets and blue badges rushed past him. Bear skins and totems adorning their armor. A man on a horse trotted past shortly after. The whole lot of them nearing the border.
Sasha didn’t really care where they were going though.
“Hey there’s one more of them!” Shouted an Imperial soldier from up ahead.
Aah crud, I forgot there’s a civil war in this province. Sasha held up his hands, not moving an inch as a battalion of Imperials neared him.
The soldiers rushed him. One of them was a huge Orc, who shoved his fist into Sasha’s head hard. Sasha backstepped and spun around delirious, falling onto the snow and passing out. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore, he was just the plaything of the gods’ it would seem.
I’ll see you soon, mother and father.
~OoOoO~
Auxiliary Info: That’s the first chapter! More to come, please leave a review. But yes, that Dragon burned down Bruma for a reason. It wasn’t simply dragons being dragons, it had intent behind its killing! Also, Alduin in this au, was sent forward in time from the Merethic era to the actual end of time, not the fourth era. The Volkihar don’t exist like they do in game, instead they’re present as described in pre-Skyrim lore. (But characters like Harkon and Serana don’t exist). And Miraak doesn’t exist either. Instead Alessia is the first Dragonborn. Be sure to check out my other Skyrim fics while you wait for this to update!
(Edited by Liberating Saint)
We only see a few NPC's who also can use shoots, but they all seem to have important positions. Are there no Dragonborns that chose to become a mercenary, or farmer, or just one of the simple folk? We also dont see or hear of any other Dragonborns who went or where summoned to High Hrothgar.
153 Votes in Poll
While this is all subjective and up to your own headcannon, let's forget about that for a moment and come with me.
Let's say that It's Canon that the LDB obtains all Daedric artifacts, becoming their champion and thus each prince has a claim to his soul. But if Akatosh blessed him, could Akatosh claim his soul? Does Herma Mora have the best claim because of the events of Dragonborn?
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Stesha Jade
Nickname: Mouse-Face
Alias: Matthew Motre
Family:
Courtlend Jade (Father)
Mildred Jade (Mother)
Boadicea Jade (Older Sister)
Laloriaran Dynar (Ancestor)
Marital Status: Married
Romantic Partner: Serana Volkihar
Class: Bookworm
Birthsign: The Ritual
Date of Birth: 6th of Morning Star, 4E 182
Race: Breton Vampire (Formerly Breton)
Age: 19
Role: Protagonist
Height: 5’9 FT. (175.26 CM)
Weight: 135 LBS. (61 KG) (Bantamweight)
Build: Frail
Eye Color: Mahogany (Formerly Dark-Brown)
Hair Color: Blackish-Brown
Skin Color: Pale
Vampire Form
~~~
Hadvar Liox
Nickname: Lover Boy
Family:
Elm Liox (Father)
Mary Liox (Mother)
Alvor Liox (Uncle)
Sigrid Liox (Aunt)
Dorthe Liox (Cousin)
Marital Status: Relationship
Romantic Partner: Aela Blackblade
Class: Warrior
Birthsign: The Lover
Date of Birth: 14th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 181
Race: Nord
Age: 20
Role: Tritagonist
Height: 6’0 FT. (182.88 CM)
Weight: 170 LBS. (77 KG) (Welterweight)
Build: Buff
Eye Color: Gold
Hair Color: Brown
Skin Color: Pale
~~~
Gwendal Opal
Aliases: Seracles, The Crow-Masked Man
Family:
Archibald Opal (Adoptive Father)
Marital Status: Single
Romantic Partner: None
Class: Mage
Birthsign: The Mage
Date of Birth: 4th of Rain’s Hand, 4E 182
Race: Breton
Age: 19
Role: Antagonist
Height: 5’9 FT. (175.26 CM)
Weight: 145 LBS. (65 KG) (Featherweight)
Build: Thin
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: Golden (Formerly Brown)
Skin Color: Light
~~~
Serana Volkihar
Title: Princess of Volkihar
Family:
Harkon Volkihar (Father)
Valerica Volkihar (Mother)
Marital Status: Married
Romantic Partner: Stesha Jade
Class: Nightblade
Birthsign: The Lady
Date of Birth: 26th of Heartfire, ME 500
Race: Atmoran Vampire (Formerly Atmoran)
Physical Age: 27
Role: Deuteragonist
Height: 5’11 FT. (180.34 CM)
Weight: 155 LBS. (70 KG) (Lightweight)
Build: Athletic
Eye Color: Ice-Blue
Hair Color: Black
Skin Color: Pale
(Edited by Liberating Saint)
Is there any lore related reason for the Dragonborn not going blind or having any of the side effects from reading the scrolls?
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97 Votes in Poll
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Life of the Trailer Dragonborn
Soundtrack: https://open.spotify.com/album/2OTjy0OveEEJkcf0sSbhkX?si=szM58lnXRPClIfizO7Ysuw
Here I will attempt to write out the life of the Dragonborn you see in the trailers and poster art of Skyrim. It took me a long time to write this so please be polite if you want to critique me. It isn’t hard to be polite and honest at the same time. This was mainly a fun experiment. Note I will be changing some elements of Skyrim’s storylines to fit the narrative structure of this slightly. But you can remove and add details as you like if you wish to retrofit this for a playthrough.
I love you and appreciate you for reading this. ❤️
Sasha Kroum was a Nord born in Bruma to a father (Hafnir) who was a moth priest and a mother (Thorrun) who was a fur trader.
Sasha (Early Childhood)
He grew up in Bruma, constantly bullied and picked on by the other kids and neglected by his parents and peers, sometimes even physically hurt by his babysitters. When he was 7, his father took him to visit the Imperial City. Around age 10 he began his schooling and continued until graduating at age 16.
Sasha (Age 13)
He spent the first three years studying hard but began to learn the ways of the blade and combat when he was 13. He wanted to get strong enough to inflict revenge on all those who’d harmed him as a child and kill anyone who dare oppose him. Around age 16, he began working odd jobs for the Jerall View Inn and developed his first crush on an Imperial girl of his class group named Juliet Carvain, niece of the Count. He spent the whole year hopelessly trying to win her affection but to no avail. After seeing her courting with Kavius Umbranox, an Imperial boy from Anvil, he decides to end it. Lacking a life purpose or any sense of direction, he heads out of the city, reflecting on his so far pointless life.
He hangs himself but doesn’t tie the rope properly and falls from the tree. Some slave traders find him passed out and take him on a ship with them to Roscrea from the western coast of Cyrodill.
Sasha (Aged 16-17)
He spends the next many years as a slave soldier on a small farm he was sold to. Falling into a deep depression he listlessly does whatever the bandit master tells him to do. Wether that’s chopping trees or killing people to rob from. He feels no empathy for all the people he kills, drinking wine or skooma to drown his problems away.
Though at this time he makes a friend named Adius, an Imperial and fellow slave soldier his age who becomes his first real friend.
Sasha (Age 18)
Sasha (Age 19-20)
Sasha gets angrier, killing more and more people. Thinking the more people he kills, the better he’ll be, the stronger he’ll be. All of his childhood trauma, he unleashes on others, killing and killing anyone the master needs killed. He eventually begins to harbor delusions of killing everyone on Tamriel for abandoning him.
Sasha (Age 21)
(Hair Tied Back; he finally begins to grow some facial hair which he shaves when he realizes).
At around 21 years of age, Adius finally convinces the depressed and angry Sasha he’s had enough of being a slave and they escape, smuggling aboard a trade ship which sails to the Imperial City. Once Sasha arrives, he shaves his head and starts anew. At this time, when his hair grows back, it is a dark brown rather than golden blond due to the eumelanin in his hair having increased as he aged.
(Note: some people who have blonde hair in real life, their hair turns dark brown as they age).
Sasha (Age 22)
Sasha and Adius become mercenaries and thieves, working jobs for the people who commission them.
A local fixer hires Sasha and Adius to steal an ancient artefact (a necklace) from within the White-Gold Tower’s mage area. They acquire the relic, but the plan goes awry when Sasha wraps the necklace around his neck. They learn the pendant inside the locket is host to the mind of a long lost entity. The entity is slowly trying to overwrite Sasha’s mind and take over his body, which will kill him in the process. The process will take a year to complete, time Sasha will use to find a cure. He can’t remove the necklace either no matter what he tries.
Sasha is haunted by the ghost of the entity and it reminds him of all the people he kills and his depression worsens. He tries several avenues such as the Synod and Scholar’s Guild to remove the necklace but to no avail. Adius consoles him during this time and they begin to feel remorse for their pasts as soldiers when they killed so many innocents they thought were their enemies.
Sasha develops ptsd and has nightmares of the people he killed during this time, no longer wishing to commit genocide on Tamriel even though he still feels wronged by the world.
Through reliving the entity’s memories, Sasha learns that it had a partnership with Boethiah in the past. So, Sasha contacts the Daedric Prince and asks for help. Boethiah agrees if Sasha can get an Elder Scroll for her from the White Gold Tower. So, Adius and Sasha attempt to steal the scroll and in run into the Emperor. They manage to steal the scroll and escape but it opens by accident on their out of the city and Sasha has a vision, seeing the lives of all the people he killed as a slave.
After he wakes up, he vows to Adius that he will never hurt another person again. And that he will either talk it out or use illusion spells to get past people who wish him harm. He will atone for the lives he’s taken.
[Note: I know pacifism is very hard to instill in Skyrim, but I’m mainly writing a story here and with the help of mods it’s a lot easier].
After giving the scroll to Boethiah, she takes Sasha to another dimension where he is able to rip off the the necklace and confront the entity. The entity says it has spent the last year overwriting Sasha’s mind and that removing it from him will eventually kill Sasha due to the extensive brain damage. Sasha rips off the amulet anyway and is returned to his home.
Sasha (Age 23)
Sasha returns to Bruma with Adius. Sasha’s parents rejoice at seeing him and plead for his forgiveness. Sasha forgives them and spend the next few months healing his mind. He begins to worship Akatosh and Mara and vows to the Dragon god that he will save more lives than he’s taken.
After healing his mind, he joins the Fighter’s Guild with the caveat that he won’t harm any people. Only to protect or slay wild animals or monsters. His expeditions with the guild make him a figure of notoriety and eventually he catches the eye of the count who employs Sasha in various political tasks.
Sasha (Age 24)
When he turns 24, he becomes a diplomat with Adius and travels to islands and chains near Hammerfell, ensuring peace within the region for the count of Bruma and creating trade routes.
Sasha (Age 25) - Final Form
After returning home, Sasha’s father passes away but not before desperately requesting his son to travel to Skyrim, as he saw once in an Elder Scroll that Sasha’s destiny lies there. Sasha says goodbye to Adius and his mother and travels to Skyrim where he is caught on the border. During this time Adius has risen to the rank of captain of the guard in Bruma.
His adventures in Skyrim consist of:
The Main Quest (Interspersed throughout several questlines. Sasha learns he is the Last Dragonborn).
Companions
Thieves Guild
College of Winterhold
Sides w/ the Imperials at the Peace Conference
Volkihar where he marries Serana and frees the human cattle in the castle.
Travels to Solsthiem where he uses Bend will to pacify Miraak
He gets trapped in apocrypha where his illness from the entity ends up killing him and he is returned to Aetherius, by Akatosh’s side.
Sasha (Age 22)
Sasha (Age 25)
(Edited by Liberating Saint)
Here specifically, I would like to be curious about those who "play" their main characters from TES. What kind of history (Past and present, depending on the actions in the game) did your heroes have from any parts of the elder scrolls?
It will most likely interest only those who are "role-playing", if there is something to share - you're welcome.
Is it even canon that the dragonborn has the ebony blade in his possession at all?
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So what if oblivion's protagonist was stuck in prison forever and Nerevarine was just walking by and decided to take care of the situation, or the Dragonborn was the prisoner instead of the oblivion's protagonist, by much earlier time then he should've born at, what do you think would happen then?
Also, what's the purpose of absorbing dragon souls in lore?
Ya probably
No way🤡
142 Votes in Poll
(Edited by administrators)
A short fight I wrote between these two for those who can't read Cyberim. This is written from TALOS’s perspective.
Talos
Race: Nord
Age: 35
Height: 6'1
Weight: 180
Dovahkiin
Race: Nord
Age: 25
Height: 5'11
Weight: 165
And then there were two.
Dovahkiin, or The Last Dragonborn, he wasn’t sure what to call him anymore, turned his head towards Talos from beneath his unique helmet. He pulled out a Septim coin and looked at Talos’ inscribed expression that was on each tamrielic penny, before tossing it aside off the cliff face.
“You versus me.” Talos mock pouted. “To see who’s truly the greatest.”
Dovahkiin shrugged. “You are but a dog, and I am your master.”
“I’m going to make you wish you were never born,” Talos drawled, dusting his Imperial Dragon Armour and facing his nemesis. He got into sprinting position and The Last Dragonborn did the same, staring at him under his Iron Helmet.
They charged simultaneously. Talos swung his fist at Dovahkiin who shouted like a banshee and dodged, shattering Talos’ eardrums. Dovahkiin knocked his knuckles straight into him, sending Talos flying. Talos crashed into the snowbanks.
Dovahkiin gleamed up at him from under his iron helmet. “Let’s do this, Tiber.”
Talos got up, dusting off his armor and squaring his shoulders. Dovahkiin brought his hands up and shouted Disarm. Then the blonde sprinted at him. Dovahkiin’s helmet rammed into his chest and crashed them both to the ground. Talos flung the Nord across him and jumped on top, but Dovahkiin tied his legs around Talos’ waist as they struggled on the cold pavement. Dovahkiin reversed his calves and smashed Talos through the neighboring sediment. Aching and groaning, Dovahkiin swerved around and submitted Talos in an armbar. Dovahkiin’s legs locked around Talos’ head as the former pulled his arm and smashed him back and forth into the pavement with his legs.
Talos broke free but Dovahkiin followed him up and rammed him into the wall. Talos knocked Dovahkiin down. Dovahkiin swayed his head quickly left and right on the floor, doing his best to avoid Talos’ punches before Talos grabbed Dovahkiin’s skull and shook him around.
“I am the hero of this land,” Talos taunted, “and the Hero always wins. Just give up and die. You’ve fought long and hard enough, Dovahkiin. Go meet your father, Akatosh.” Dovahkiin’s scowl threatened to rip his face apart and he shook with anger. Talos forced the little devil into the snow, bent him over and curb stomped Dovahkiin into the ground. Talos quickly grabbed Dovahkiin’s sword arm and pushed his head into the ground with his foot. “JUST DIE ALREADY,” Talos yelled. “I’m far superior to you in size and strength. You can’t win.”
Dovahkiin threw up his legs in a leglock and rammed his hand into Talos’ mouth as the god of war lowered himself to force the Child of Akatosh down. Dovahkiin used all his strength to shove to the point Talos felt the roof of his mouth begin to crack.
Dovahkiin, at the top of his lungs, SHOUTED as Talos began to feel dizzy from the pressure. The boy’s screams echoing off every mountaintop, silencing the city, breaking windows with the decibels and destroying Talos’ eardrums moreso. The Thu’um of a Dragon.
If one of us doesn’t let up soon, this pressure will cave in my skull, Talos thought. Dovahkiin wasn’t showing any signs of letting up. Talos saw tears streaming down Dovahkiin’s red face as he hardened his nails deeper into Talos mouth, seeping into his skull-lining. With a burst Talos softened his foothold and was sent flying into the boulder.
“How in the hell?” Talos recovered, standing back up.
This motherfucker may actually beat me. I have to step up my game. Talos tightened his brass gauntlets and pumped his fists.
Dovahkiin was in blocking position as Talos rammed fist after fist, punch after punch into the iron lace of his enemy’s bracers. The fiend kept walking backward slowly, blocking every strike Talos sent. Talos shuttled more energy into each blow, but the Dragonchild kept his arms held up elbows down, deflecting it all like a seasoned boxer from the Imperial Arena.
I have to charge my punch and break his gauntlet. If I can do that, it’ll expose his arm and if I break that this fight’s over. He can’t fight with just one arm. Talos’ mortal form had drained all his divine energy and he now relied solely on his physical strength. He was killable now.
Talos cocked back his shoulder and swung his arm into Dovahkiin. But at the last second the boy swept aside and grabbed Talos’ extended appendage. Dovahkiin’s boney knuckle crashed straight into his nose.
Talos was ready to uppercut with his other arm but Dovahkiin reverted, going overhead and smashing his fist straight down breaking Talos’ jaw. Talos fell to one knee as Dovahkiin swiped another punch, but Talos ducked, enveloping the dragon with his arms. Talos ran Dovahkiin straight through a building, smashing him to the floor. Cocking back another punch—
Dovahkiin kicked Talos straight through. Talos fell coughing to the snowy floor as the Dovahkiin sat up, dazed, his hair curtaining him like a woman of the night. The impact of the kick sent shutters through Talos’ abdomen and solar plexus. And vomit churned in his belly.
Something pounded hard into him, shoving him off into a ravine. Dovahkiin and him flew down gods knew how many feet. Dovahkiin’s fist slammed him hard into the rockface. Talos ate dirt as they fell down the cliff, tearing his skin until they both crashed into the mist. Before Talos could get up. Dovahkiin sprinted full speed at him, jumping into the air and body slamming Talos with his elbows. Akatosh’s son’s fist pounded boney knuckles over and over and over into Talos’ face. Dovahkiin screamed at him, smashing another fistful of metal into Talos nose. Talos’ head going into and out of the snow with each forceful impact of The Last Dragonborn’s rock-like knuckles. Talos elbowed Dovahkiin against the chin, which threw him back enough to give Talos the edge.
Dovahkiin stood up and walked over to the ledge, viewing the rolling hills and cascades of Skyrim as the darkest time of night descended. Talos used a feeble healing spell to mend his wounds and stifle the pain. “I’m a hero,” Talos told himself, shivering in the wind. “I can defeat him.”
Dovahkiin’s horned Nordic iron helmet cracked in half and fell off, landing on either side of him.
Talos squared his shoulders and carefully approached as the noises of battle from above sounded off. Talos sprinted, hopping in long lunges, twisting a punch at Dovahkiin who dodged as Talos’ fist flew straight into the air. He swiped left as Dovahkiin brought both his arms from under Talos’ armpit and toppled them both back into the snow by tripping Talos. Talos rooked his elbow into Dovahkiin’s face who bit down on it. Talos jumped up with Dovahkiin still attached to his arm, he threw the fiend into the blocks of ice. Talos got down on all fours and pounced. Dovahkiin sidestepped and thrust a kick straight into Talos’ back. Talos spun around and ran at him again, logging at whack straight towards his enemy’s stupid face. Dovahkiin evaded. Running a return jab straight into Talos’ mouth, knocking him off balance. Talos roared in pain. Dovahkiin pushed everything into his punch, shattering Talos’ cheekbone and sending him rolling into the mounds of whiteness.
Dovahkiin didn’t relent. Talos guarded his face with his arm and Dovahkiin launched another assault straight into his guard. Talos crossed his arms over his face as Dovahkiin hammered fist after white knuckled fist into him.
Landing one that ripped the skin off the side of Talos’ face.
Dovahkiin lost his footing on some black ice and Talos jounced. Grabbing Dovahkiin by his skirt he swung the Nord boy over his shoulder and smashed him straight through a bush, dragging him up and thrusting his head down into the dirt, mixed with a punch. Talos’ hulking figure dwarfed Dovahkiin’s lithe frame as he prepared to struggle over him, but Dovahkiin grabbed his arms and tied his legs around Talos’ back the last second. They grappled with each other in a slugfest, but Dovahkiin tightened Talos into a chokehold with his arm, clenching his legs around Talos’ lower back. Dovahkiin screamed as he pulled Talos arm with everything he had in him, Talos’ face kissing the dirt next to Dovahkiin’s neck, roaring in pain.
“STOP,” Talos yelled.
Dovahkiin’s screams became more and more demonic as he wrenched. Harder and harder until Talos’ felt the Dragonborn was about to rip off his arm. Talos pulled his arm back. Aching as he tried to move under Dovahkiin’s grip and leghold. Inch by inch he moved up. Headbutting Dovahkiin in the forehead and removing his arm. Socking the Nord square on the cheek, rupturing his zygomatics. Dovahkiin’s eye flashed and he circled his legs around Talos’ backside and choked Talos with his feet, throwing him off into the nearby aspen. The leaves juddering off. Holding his crackling face, Dovahkiin ran sideways and leaped at him, kicking him across the face but Talos reversed and shoved Dovahkiin repeatedly into the ill-rooted tree. Dovahkiin slipped out under and slugged Talos across the cheek. Talos surrendered to the floor, bloody and beaten.
Then Talos in a last-ditch effort rolled around and got Dovahkiin in a rear-naked choke. He choked Dovahkiin out with his elbow, but the Dragon didn’t relent. Dovahkiin started screaming and started pushing Talos up the chin until the pressure was too much and the latter gave.
Dovahkiin slowly sidled over to Talos, intent to kill written over his blood-stained face.
“Once I kill you, I’ll unmake this entire world. If I’m to die, I’ll take everyone with me,” Dovahkiin’s voice came out rash and satanic. “Long live the Thalmor.”
Dovahkiin’s feet were behind him.
Talos overthrew Dovahkiin with his feet, jumping on him but Dovahkiin cocked his legs back and shoved Talos off him once more, hopping back onto both feet. He soared a punch through the air like a gliding eagle. But this time Talos sidestepped and grabbed The Last Dragonborn’s elbow by the connector and broke it off. Pinning Dovahkiin to the tree with his leg. He ripped off the boy’s right arm as Dovahkiin screamed his ear-piercing shriek once more. Bone and cartilage coming clean off. Then he grabbed Dovahkiin and threw him though a neighboring hut, smashing the wall. When he got there Dovahkiin was gone. A moment later something encircled his neck. Dovahkiin swinging wildly behind him, exulting demonic screeches as Talos tossed him overhead but the Dragon landed on both feet like a Khajiit. One arm missing.
Even now he still fights. This won’t end until either him or I die, Talos thought.
The house was bereft but a single, glowing two-handed katana lay on the floorboards. Talos grabbed Dragonbane as it was branded with both hands and aimed it at Dovahkiin. The electric sky above loomed and lightning struck, electrocuting Dovahkiin with a thousand volts. Now! Talos ran with the sword pointed toward Dovahkiin. The Dragonborn disoriented by the lightning strike.
“FUS RO DAH.” The Last Dragonborn knocked Talos aside with one electrically charged shout. Now Dovahkiin was really beginning to look like a demon as his pale skin peeled off him, showing the bones beneath his face. Talos, fallen to his knees, heaved a sigh and thrust himself upward, his armor clanking. Talos flung the sword through Dovahkiin, pinning him into the wall.
Before he could give Dovahkiin a chance Talos ran at him and yelled, knocking his fist into Dovahkiin’s mouth, hard into the ice. But Dovahkiin’s jaws expanded like a snake and ate Talos’ fist, biting down on it, refusing to let go as pain seared through Talos’ nerves. Talos had no choice but to clutch Dovahkiin’s thin throat with his other hand and hold down the Drake’s remaining arm with his leg. Talos choked Dovahkiin as Dovahkiin’s satanic screeching threatened to make Talos’ deaf, still biting down hard on Talos’ other hand. Talos squeezed with everything he had as Dovahkiin convulsed. Blood streamed from Talos’ knuckles as Dovahkiin’s teeth began to rip into his bones.
Dovahkiin’s head turned red, and his veins looked fit to burst as his blood and oxygen cut off, but he savored it. Talos thrust Dovahkiin into the wall with his shoulder, pulling out the katana from his gut and stabbing it through Dovahkiin’s heart with everything he had. Dovahkiin’s remaining eye blinked unevenly like an Argonian with his last moments, veins blackening. Talos dug the blade into the boulder through Dovahkiin’s heart and twisted it to make sure he was dead. A gushing noise coming off him. Dovahkiin’s arms slackened, and his gaze became solitary and downcast with nonexistence. Some blood gurgling out of his mouth like drool. Dovahkiin’s head curled down, and his long hair spilled over the sides of his face.
Talos let go of the implanted katana, his shoulders melted as he fell onto his knees. He looked up at Dovahkiin’s emotionless, deadened expression as it grayed with death. The wires in the boy’s forehead melting out like tears. A giant mushroom was near them, moss growing on it with alocasia.
I guess the bad guys do always die in the end. Talos’ skull was hot and his breath steamy. Damn Thalmor, I’ve become so weak from this lack of worship.
He gazed once more at the lifeless, still figure of The Last Dragonborn stabbed into the wall. Long blond hair, an angular face with short stubble did the young man have. I don’t feel as satisfied as I thought I would.
Dawn’s first rays of light gleamed over the horizon and Talos fell backwards into the fluffy snow, relishing in its refreshing chill. The weather calmed and a few pleasant breezes whisked past. He put a hand over his missing heart and coughed violet ichor.
A pair of feet stood near him.
”You will pay for killing my last born son,” said Akatosh.
(Edited by Liberating Saint)
Quest 24: Swan Song 🦢
Estimated Reading Time: 17 Minutes | Word Count: 5,000
Loading Screen… Alduin Satakal known as Qyslom Orgnum wrote the Book of Fate, but what he has seen that prompted this is thus unknown…
Soundtrack of Cyberim: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6vU6Otycf6TmsCzBJpS6gD?si=DZoRYERjQmWbj_bPbdIjQg
Load Last Save (Krest, Imperial, Quest 23): https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/d/p/4400000000003670380
~ § ó § ò § ~
The cloud of Stormcrown rained ethereal rain over his head and his snake-tail rested on his shoulder. Akatosh had used his slow time shout to trap him and Konahrik.
Talos stepped into the circle. “So, you were Konahrik this whole time? I just took you to be some annoying brat.” Talos sat down on a rock as the world was stilled to a halt, white glistening portals circulating around them. “I spent seven thousand years searching for some idiot child. Seven thousand years.” He massaged his face with both gauntleted hands. “You would’ve made a decent Nord, Armilius.”
Alduin then stepped into the circle. “Oh, he has.” A sea-elven figure with curly black hair and small but bushy beard, antlers resembling his mother Mara upon his crown.
“Grandfather paradox,” Akatosh cut in. “Well, either way this time loop is self-fulfilling.”
“Aaah, hello brother. We were just talking about you, only bad things of course.” Talos cracked a smile at his fraternal twin.
Konahrik looked drained and defeated, darkening eye circles framed by long strands of hair. The brunette only had one eye remaining with words etched on his forehead that weren’t there before: Ni Sahvot. Which meant, nonbeliever in dovahzul. Krest secured his Konahrik mask near himself, glaring at Alduin. “I started all of this. And I’ll end it all too.”
Egomaniac.
“You two hypocrites created each other. You’re equally to blame. You are both the source of your own misery.” Akatosh stroked his beard. “Are you really so blind? This war over elves and men.” Akatosh sat down on an old tree stump, enjoying the skyline as the stars stretched over the alps. “One has pointy ears, the other doesn’t. So what!?”
Alduin twirled the book in his hand. “Hmm, perhaps.”
What’s he hiding in that bloody book anyways? Talos wondered.
Konahrik, or Krest, stared dreadfully at his deadened palm for a minute straight. “There are hundreds of books about you, discussing why you did anything, about your divine mind. Theorizing about all sorts of complex shit. And you’re telling me, the whole time, it was just to get back at me? I didn’t expect it to be so simple.”
“The simple truth usually flies under people’s nose.” Talos put his face in his hand. “Though I had aspirations of usurping God once.”
“You can’t mantle Anu. No matter how you go about it.” Akatosh untucked strands of hair stuck behind his ear.
Talos inhaled the scent of the crisp northern air, winds sloshing like waves. A solemn Dwarven Automaton stalked them from behind the time barrier. People outside the bubble frozen as chronos had come to a stop. Galmar holding his axe over the head of an elf like a statue. Another High Elf about to insert her dagger into an unsuspecting Nord. Seems elves and men would be killing each other until the end of time. Talos, enemy to elves, and Konahrik, enemy to men despite being one. Akatosh the only one in the center. Even then, a Dragonborn could never be a Shezarrine, and a Shezarrine could never be a Dragonborn. But this Konahrik, he was more polarized from him than even a Dragon, an Anti-Talos to Talos. Born in the corners of hell where none looked. Forgotten, ignored, and now here to get him as promised all the way back in the Dawn Era.
Almost like fate.
“I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think I was you.” Krest sniffed his nose as mucus flowed out.
“How could a maggot like you ever be me?” Talos almost laughed. “There will never be another Shezarrine aside from me. Just as there will never be another Dragonborn after Saadia. You, Armilius, are just a nobody. A stupid kid who tampered with magic far beyond his understanding. That’s all you’ll ever be. Not some Dark Lord. Just a delusional egomaniac. And you can never beat me; I’m a god. How can you kill a god?”
“Saadia,” Talos continued, “I had to kill her though. She was the Dragonborn destined to defeat me. I thought momentarily she may also be Konahrik, seeing as there is no prophecy concerning the latter. But there is no definite fate and she died and this one, Armilius was Konahrik all along without even knowing it. Konahrik was no great Devil. He was just a crazy, arrogant boy who got ahold of a Divine artifact and an Elder Scroll. You chose to be that monster.”
“I admit I also thought Konahrik was some Dragon priest or demon hiding out somewhere in Skyrim. Perhaps in Labyrinthian.” Akatosh ran his fingers through his long, illustrious wizard beard. “Perhaps that is why Anu led us to meet, Krest? That mask is more powerful than you know however, son. It can summon monsters, allow you to transform into a Dragon, protect your eyesight, and disguise your voice or allow the mute to speak, and more.”
Konahrik didn’t say anything. Then, “Krest… some cruel choice of a nickname… my real name is Khrystianos.” Krest glared hatred at them all, shaking with barely contained contempt. Rage resonating from his clenched fists and standing figure. “That’s the name my mother gave me.”
“Even then it was Khrystianos, cousin.” Alduin’s expression popped open wide when he saw just how rage-filled Krest had gotten.
“You mean to tell me the Nord man with the blond hair and studded armor I see in the mirror is me?” Konahrik questioned. “I’m an elf in spirit, no filthy dog.”
“Shut up, you delusional brat.” Alduin waved off. “Racist hypocrites, the both of you. If only you could see.”
“Talos and me are nothing alike other than the fact we breathe air,” Krest defended himself.
“I’m sorry, Krest, but you’ll be dead within the hour. Transforming into a dragon will have damaged your vitals. What’s worse is that Talos used Soulkiller on you.” Akatosh pointed to the black staff with a bluish-purple soul gem lying on the floor. “Which means once you die, Krest, you’ll Zero Sum like Cuhlecain and Reman. You will never go to Aetherius, once you die you won’t exist anymore. It’ll be like you’re in an endless, dreamless sleep. Even I can’t save you anymore, so pray to Anu while you can.” Then Akatosh looked to Talos. “Your fate is arguably worse, brother. Once you’re defeated, you’ll be placed in Hell, a pocket realm of Dagon’s Deadlands in which you can never escape or influence Nirn. You’ll burn forever inside a lake of fire, inside an ice block where you’re freezing below zero when not being roasted alive. A fitting punishment for you at the deepest of the depths of Oblivion.”
“If you think I’m gonna let that happen, you’re dead wrong. Red Mountain and death itself couldn’t hold me down.” Talos glanced over at the snow covering the ground beneath their bubble. He scooted closer to Krest and the cliff. A willow tree that stood there like a monument against the dark canvas of mountain. Careless city around.
Konahrik looked down. “I don’t really care anymore,” his intonation came out dry, drained, and lifeless. “You think life’s a romantic fairytale when you’re a kid. Then you grow up and watch all your dreams die before your eyes and eventually nothing affects you anymore. It just is what it is.”
“You stupid virgin,” snorted Talos. “You never achieved your dreams because you were just too weak to reach out and take them.”
Brows raised, Krest's words came out number and hollower with each sentence, “at least I don’t have to abuse women and kill helpless elves to feel good about myself.”
Clouds surrounded Talos in the bubble.
“Amazing how the most powerful men are the most childish and territorial.” Akatosh rolled his eyes. Then the Dragon god looked at Konahrik. “I know Talos could never truly love a woman for her heart. But you, for all your sanctimony, have you ever loved anyone at all, Khrystianos? You’re so filled with hatred.”
Krest looked like he was having difficulty breathing. “That’s because all I’ve ever received from other people my whole life was hatred. So why would I know anything outside of it. I was born to hate.”
Akatosh stroked that beard of his again. “Hmm, I had thought momentarily perhaps you held some interest for Dibella. But it seems I was—”
“THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW. YOU KNOW NOTHING!” Konahrik marched over and eyed Akatosh face to face. “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHNG. SHUT UP. ALL YOU DO IS TALK OVER US BUT I DON’T SEE YOU HELPING. IF YOU’VE GOT SOMETHING UP YOUR SLEEVE, LET’S HEAR IT. IF YOU’RE GONNA HELP, THEN TELL ME WHAT. MAYBE IF YOU PAID ATTENTION TO ME, I WOULDN’T HAVE GONE DOWN THIS DARK PATH.” Konahrik broke off into sobs then, babbling and crying like a brat. “I love Dibella. I want to be in her heart forever. But if I’m not hers I don’t want to live. There’s nothing else I want.” His face flooded in an ocean of tears as he fell back first onto the ground, his hands holding him up. Akatosh held a palm to Konahrik’s throat. “Even when I die I want for her to never forget me,” he continued crying, his speech sounding distorted in the tears.
This is so utterly pathetic, Talos sighed exasperatedly, this is supposed to be Tamriel’s big bad ‘Dark Lord’??? This fucking virgin cuckold.
Akatosh heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you loved her that deeply. You’ve been suppressing it all this time. Many men lead lives of quiet desperation, I suppose.”
Talos wasn’t sure what to say, standing there awkwardly as the kid bawled his eyes out. Don’t console him you fool.
Krest choked on his tears as more drizzled up and swelled out from the wells of his eyes. “It’s all so goddamn maddening.” He batted his brain, hitting the side of his head. “I can’t take it anymore. Why can’t anything ever be simple in this excuse of a world. This useless purgatorial existence. To think this was it.” Akatosh’s gold eyes were lost on the drab of black across from them. An iron helmet was lying nearby, with horns that pointed down on each ear. Konahrik wiped the sniveling tears from his view and got up, grabbing the helmet, and placing it over his brow, kicking the Konahrik mask away. He spoke in the dying moments of Anu’s Light from under his iron brow, “keep your stupid mask.”
Alduin picked up Konahrik the mask and handed it to his Father. “This was a mistake. I’ll have to kill you both now.”
Talos mock smiled. The four of them stood there awhile, appreciating the scenery and vistas of Skyrim, dreadfully dark as it was. “Men have long been slaves to elves and Dragons alike. It was I who created this world for men and mer as Lorkhan Shor. It was I who freed the Nedes from their Ayleid oppressors as Pelinal Whitestrake. It was I who liberated Skyrim as Ysmir Wulfharth. It was I who guided Reman as Zurin Arctus. It was I who united Tamriel as Tiber Septim. It was I who protected men from the Dominion as Talos Stormcrown. Were all these facts conveniently omitted by Akatosh? And it shall be I who rules this world as god-emperor Caesar Apollyon; Shor incarnate. The Doom Drum reborn.”
“Your good deeds don’t excuse your means of achieving them.” Akatosh’s gaze was fixed on the view. “And most of what you mentioned isn’t even good.”
“No, but I am the Last Tower. If you kill me, you unmake reality. I refuse to surrender to a Heaven made by Anu. I will live and so will this world. This will not be the last kalpa, for when that bell tolls my army in Sovngarde will join me as we herald in a new age. A paradise for the Nords where I sit on my throne.”
“You really think I’d let that happen?” Akatosh did his best to bite back a laugh. “You are a disgrace to the races of men and now you’ve been exposed. Everyone on Tamriel and elsewhere is aware of your horrible deeds at last. And once the Nords realize this, they will never worship you again, Shor. You will wither away in your hellish prison.” Akatosh stood up and took ahold of the Konahrik mask, melting it, the brassy metal drooping off and melting the snow beneath into steaming liquid. The mountaintop’s weather increased, and the snowstorm died, only a few flakes drifting by like ropes being batted at a training center. “An item this powerful should never exist again. Though I will not make the same mistake as young Armilius, I won’t tamper with the past. With you two gone, a new, hopefully happier future awaits Tamriel.”
Talos crunched his knuckles. “What now? Your hourglass run out?”
“Now, you’ll be coming with me to your new home.” Frowned Akatosh. The sheek of his red robes glinting from the light of the Elder Scroll he pulled over his shoulder. “Or Alduin will kill you both.”
A spear thrust through Alduin’s ribcage, his blue blood splattering across the ashy wall. Krest had used his mantis blade to kill the world eater. “Damnit, second time you’ve gotten me, Khrystianos,” muttered Alduin in his dying breaths as his elven form greyed away into dust.
The next time Alduin is reborn, he won’t be an elf or dragon, but as a world eating cataclysm.
Talos glanced at Konahrik and nodded.
Talos and Konahrik rushed Akatosh, elbowing the Dragon god onto the ground as time resumed at normal speed and the world swam back into view. A battle ensuing in the broken, wooden remains of Hrothgar. The high, old, scaled building with mountain lifts still intact. A gathering storm on the horizon, rumbling with thunder. Nou Varlor was thrashing and throwing aside many of the fighting forces with its centurion style mallet. Black smoke billowed over the peaks of neighboring vertical world spines. A water tank exploded, and waves spilled down the hillside of the city. Dibella skewered a Son of Septim with her blade while Galmar swung his battle-axe at her, missing as she ducked and kicked him in the stomach.
And then there were two.
Krest, or Konahrik, he wasn’t sure what to call him anymore, turned his head from Dibella towards Talos from beneath the unique helmet. He pulled out a Septim coin and looked at Talos’ inscribed expression that was on each tamrielic penny, before tossing it aside off the cliff face.
“Kinda sad how even I’ve slept with your dream girl, and you probably haven’t even received a kiss from her. She used to be my bitch, in fact.” Talos mock pouted, puckering his lips. “Weird, you hate Nords yet you love a Nord whore.”
“Funny. Because I recall you running away from Dibella like a scared mouse last time you fought her. She told me she always hated you. And you were once a Manmer, yet you hate elves.” Krest shrugged. “You are but a dog, Septim,” he whispered to himself in the limited vestiges of speech that stayed, “and I am your master.”
“Yes, I’m sure Dibella will be thinking about just how much she loves you while Tsun is putting a baby in her after you’re dead,” Talos drawled sarcastically, dusting his Imperial Dragon Armour and facing his nemesis. He got into sprinting position and Konahrik did the same, staring at him with his one bloodied eye.
They charged simultaneously. Talos swung his fist at Krest who screamed like a banshee and dodged, shattering Talos’ eardrums. Krest knocked his knuckles straight into him, sending Talos flying. Talos crashed into the snowbanks. This motherfucker got stronger.
Krest gleamed up at him from under his iron helmet. “Let’s do this, Tiber.”
Talos got up, dusting off his armor and squaring his shoulders. Krest, who was slowly beginning to resemble the elven demon from his dreams more and more, brought his hands up and screeched insanely. Then the Evil One sprinted at him. Krest’s helmet rammed into his chest and crashed them both to the ground. Talos flung the Imperial across him and jumped on top, but Krest tied his legs around Talos’ waist as they struggled on the cold pavement. Krest reversed his calves and smashed Talos through the neighboring sediment. Aching and groaning, Krest swerved around and submitted Talos in an armbar. Krest’s legs locked around Talos’ head as the former pulled his arm and smashed him back and forth into the pavement.
“DIE, DIE, DIE,” chanted the Devil.
Talos broke free and knocked Krest down. Krest swayed quickly left and right on the floor, doing his best to avoid Talos’ punches before he grabbed Krest’s skull and shook him around.
“I am the hero of this land,” Talos taunted, “and the Hero always wins. Just give up and die. You’ve fought long and hard enough, Khrystianos. Go meet your mother.” Krest’s scowl threatened to rip his face apart and he shook with anger. Talos forced the little devil into the snow, bent him over and curb stomped Krest into the ground. Talos quickly grabbed Krest’s sword arm and pushed his head into the ground with his foot. “JUST DIE ALREADY,” Talos yelled. “I’m far superior to you in size and strength. You can’t win.”
Krest retreated his arm and rammed his hand into Talos’ mouth as the god of war lowered himself to force the Evil One down. Krest used all his strength to shove to the point Talos felt the roof of his mouth begin to crack.
Krest, at the top of his lungs, SCREECHED as Talos began to feel dizzy from the pressure. The boy’s screams echoing off every mountaintop, silencing the city, breaking windows with the decibels and destroying Talos’ eardrums moreso. The screams of a child silenced all his life finally unleashed, rivaling the Thu’um in ferocity.
If one of us doesn’t let up soon, this pressure will cave in my skull. Krest wasn’t showing any signs of letting up. Talos saw tears streaming down Krest’s red face as he hardened his nails deeper into Talos mouth, seeping into his skull-lining. With a burst Talos softened his foothold and was sent flying into the boulder.
“How in the hell?” Talos recovered, standing back up.
This motherfucker may actually beat me. I have to step up my game. Talos tightened his brass gauntlets and pumped his fists.
“BEAT THAT THALMOR DEVIL, TALOS!” Screamed a Nord woman from a rooftop. “YOU’RE OUR HERO! SKYRIM IS FOR THE NORDS!”
Damn right.
“Don’t you see! Elven supremacy is the only truth!” An Altmer argued with the woman, casting electric spells toward her. “Talos is the real Devil here.”
Krest was in blocking position as Talos rammed fist after fist, punch after punch into the Stalhrim lace of his enemy’s bracers. The fiend kept walking backward slowly, blocking every strike Talos sent. Talos shuttled more energy into each blow, but the Thalmor kept his arms held up elbows down, deflecting it all like a seasoned boxer from the Imperial Arena.
I have to charge my punch and break his gauntlet. If I can do that, it’ll expose his arm and if I break that this fight’s over. He can’t fight with just one arm. Talos’ mortal form had drained all his divine energy and he now relied solely on his physical strength. He was killable now.
Talos cocked back his shoulder and swung his arm into Krest. But at the last second the Thalmor’s Messiah swept aside and grabbed Talos’ extended appendage. Krest’s boney knuckle crashed straight into his nose.
Talos was ready to uppercut with his other arm but Krest reverted, going overhead and smashing his fist straight down breaking Talos’ jaw. Talos fell to one knee as Krest swiped another punch, but Talos ducked, enveloping the monster with his arms. Talos ran Krest straight through a building, smashing him to the floor. Cocking back another punch—
Krest kicked Talos straight through. Talos fell coughing to the snowy floor as the Imperial sat up, dazed, his hair curtaining him like a woman of the night. The impact of the kick sent shutters through Talos’ abdomen and solar plexus. And vomit churned in his belly.
Something pounded hard into him, shoving him off into a ravine. Krest and him flew down gods knew how many feet. Krest’s fist slammed him hard into the rockface. Talos ate dirt as they fell down the cliff, tearing his skin until they both crashed into the mist. Before Talos could get up. Krest sprinted full speed at him, jumping into the air and body slamming Talos with his elbows. The Evil One’s fist pounded boney knuckles over and over and over into Talos’ face. Krest screamed at him, smashing another fistful of metal into Talos nose. Talos’ head going into and out of the snow with each forceful impact of Konahrik’s rock-like knuckles.
Talos groaned as the much younger man’s mantis blade ejected from his forearm and stabbed Talos’ snake-tail, Zurin like a shish kabob. He yanked it off and threw it into the white puffs of snow. Talos elbowed Krest against the chin, which threw him back enough to give Talos the edge.
Krest stood up and walked over to the ledge, viewing the rolling hills and cascades of Skyrim as the darkest time of night descended. Talos used a feeble healing spell to mend his wounds and stifle the pain. “I’m a hero,” Talos told himself, shivering in the wind. “I can defeat him.”
The cloud above, Wulfharth, exerted its demon speech at Konahrik, “litrix mamiss svent.” Ysmir the Stormcrown dissipated into dust as the inverted shout sundered Krest’s helmet. Krest’s horned Nordic iron helmet cracked in half and fell off, landing on either side of him.
Talos squared his shoulders and carefully approached as the noises of battle from above sounded off. Talos sprinted, hopping in long lunges, twisting a punch at Krest who dodged as Talos’ fist flew straight into the air. He swiped left as Krest brought both his arms from under Talos’ armpit and toppled them both back into the snow by tripping Talos. Talos rooked his elbow into Krest’s face who bit down on it. Talos jumped up with Krest still attached to his arm, he threw the fiend into the blocks of ice. Talos got down on all fours and pounced. Krest sidestepped and thrust a kick straight into Talos’ back. Talos spun around and ran at him again, logging at whack straight towards his enemy’s stupid face. Krest evaded. Running a return jab straight into Talos’ mouth, knocking him off balance. Talos roared in pain. Krest pushed everything into his punch, shattering Talos’ cheekbone and sending him rolling into the mounds of whiteness.
Krest didn’t relent. Talos guarded his face with his arm and Krest launched another assault straight into his guard. Talos crossed his arms over his face as Krest hammered fist after white knuckled fist into him. Landing one that ripped the skin off the side of Talos’ face.
Krest lost his footing on some black ice and Talos jounced. Grabbing Krest by his armored legs he swung the Imperial over his shoulder and smashed him straight through a bush, dragging him up and thrusting his head down into the dirt, mixed with a punch surely sending the Evil One into a concussion. Talos’ hulking figure dwarfed Krest’s lithe frame as he prepared to struggle over him, but Krest grabbed his arms and tied his legs around Talos’ back the last second. They grappled with each other in a slugfest, but Krest tightened Talos into a chokehold with his arm, clenching his legs around Talos’ lower back. Krest screamed as he pulled Talos arm with everything he had in him, Talos’ face kissing the dirt next to Krest’s neck, roaring in pain.
“STOP.”
Krest’s screams became more and more demonic as he wrenched. Harder and harder until Talos’ felt the Imperial was about to rip off his arm. Talos pulled his arm back. Aching as he tried to move under Krest’s grip and leghold. Inch by inch he moved up. Headbutting Krest in the forehead and removing his arm. Socking the Nibenese square on the cheek, rupturing his zygomatics. Krest’s eye flashed and he circled his legs around Talos’ backside and choked Talos with his feet, throwing him off into the nearby aspen. The leaves juddering off. Holding his crackling face, Krest’s left arm transformed into a crossbow, nocking a bolt and shooting it at Talos, knocking the wind out of the latter. The demon ran sideways and leaped at him, kicking him across the face but Talos reversed and shoved Krest repeatedly into the ill-rooted tree. Krest slipped out under and slugged Talos across the cheek. Talos surrendered to the floor, bloody and beaten.
Then Talos in a last-ditch effort rolled around and got Krest in a rear-naked choke. He choked Krest out with his elbow, but the Imperial didn’t relent. Krest started screaming and started pushing Talos up the chin until the pressure was too much and the latter gave.
Everything was sore. Unless he did something this vile creature would defeat him and continue to haunt humankind, allowing elves to take over. Allowing the world to end. I have to stop him and save the world. Krest’s right arm unfolded the spired needle-like pincer contained within and he slowly sidled over to Talos, intent to kill written over his blood-stained face.
“Once I kill you, I’ll kill the Nords, then I’ll unmake this entire world. If I’m to die, I’ll take everyone with me,” his voice came out rash and satanic.
Krest’s feet were behind him.
Talos overthrew Krest with his feet, jumping on him but Krest cocked his legs back and shoved Talos off him once more, hopping back onto both feet. He soared a punch through the air like a gliding eagle. But this time Talos sidestepped and grabbed Konahrik’s mantis by the connector and broke it off. Pinning Krest to the tree with his leg. He ripped off the Imperial’s right arm as Krest screamed his ear-piercing shriek once more. Bone and cartilage coming clean off. Then he grabbed Krest and threw him though a neighboring hut, smashing the wall. When he got there Krest was gone. A moment later something encircled his neck. Krest swinging wildly behind him, exulting demonic screeches as his bolt-arm fired a bullet that narrowly missed. Talos tossed him overhead but the once Black Dragon landed on both feet like a Khajiit. One arm and eye missing.
Even now he still fights. This won’t end until either him or I die.
The house was bereft but a single, glowing two-handed katana lay on the floorboards. Talos grabbed Dragonbane as it was branded with both hands and aimed it at Krest. The electric sky above loomed and lightning struck, electrocuting Krest with a thousand volts. Now! Talos ran with the sword pointed toward Krest. The Imperial disoriented by the lightning strike.
Konahrik knocked Talos aside with one electrically charged blast. Now Krest was really beginning to look like a demon as his pale skin peeled off him, showing the bones beneath his face. Talos, fallen to his knees, heaved a sigh and thrust himself upward, his armor clanking. Talos flung the sword through Krest, pinning him into the wall.
Before he could give Krest a chance Talos ran at him and yelled, knocking his fist into Krest’s mouth, hard into the ice. But Krest’s jaws expanded like a snake and ate Talos’ fist, biting down on it, refusing to let go as pain seared through Talos’ nerves. Talos had no choice but to clutch Krest’s thin throat with his other hand and hold down the Dark Lord’s remaining arm with his leg. Talos choked Krest as Krest’s satanic screeching threatened to make Talos’ deaf, still biting down hard on Talos’ other hand. Talos squeezed with everything he had as Krest convulsed. Blood streamed from Talos’ knuckles as Krest’s teeth began to rip into his bones.
Krest’s head turned red, and his veins looked fit to burst as his blood and oxygen cut off, but he savored it. This son of a whore actually enjoys the pain, he feeds off it. Talos thrust Krest into the wall with his shoulder, pulling out the katana from the Imperial’s gut and stabbing it through Krest’s heart with everything he had. Krest’s remaining eye blinked unevenly like an Argonian with his last moments, veins blackening. Talos dug the blade into the boulder through Krest’s heart and twisted it to make sure he was dead. A gushing noise coming off him. Krest’s arms slackened, and his gaze became solitary and downcast with nonexistence. Some blood gurgling out of his mouth like drool. Krest’s head curled down, and his long hair spilled over the sides of his face.
Talos let go of the implanted katana, his shoulders melted as he fell onto his knees. He looked up at Krest’s emotionless, deadened expression as it grayed with death. The wires in the boy’s forehead melting out like tears. A giant mushroom was near them, moss growing on it with alocasia.
I guess the bad guys do always die in the end. Talos’ skull was hot and his breath steamy. Damn Thalmor, I’ve become so weak from this lack of worship. He gazed once more at the lifeless, still figure of Konahrik stabbed into the wall. I don’t feel as satisfied as I thought I would.
Dawn’s first rays of light gleamed over the horizon and Talos fell backwards into the fluffy snow, relishing in its refreshing chill. The weather calmed and a few pleasant breezes whisked past. He put a hand over his missing heart and coughed violet ichor.
Three pairs of feet stood near him.
~ § ó § ò § ~
A/N: What were some theories you guys had during reading the story? Did any come true? Were any false? Please leave a review!
Next Quest: Skyrim
(Edited by Liberating Saint)
How would the world be changed?
Would there be a LDB?
Would Martin be the one to defeat it?
(Edited by moderator)