My Little Dovahkiin: Wrath of the Damned

Chapter 13

4E 202

College of Winterhold, Skyrim

Applejack had to admit: Nirn was a confusing place.

Equus boasted a fairly diverse population. There are Dragons, Griffons, Ponies, Changelings, Hippogriffs (or so Twilight said; Applejack had never seen one herself) and many others. On the other hand, Tamriel alone housed the Redguard, Nords, Imperials, High Elves (or 'Altmer', as Trinity referred to them as), Wood Elves (Bosmer), Dark Elves (Dunmer), Bretons, Argonians, and something called a 'Ka-jit' or something like that. And that was only those currently present!

Coupled with that, there was also the forms of government. Now, Applejack wasn't an expert on the Equestrian governemnt, but she knew it was a monarchy, that's for sure. They still had that here on Nirn, but they had many more as well. The Argonians operated on Tribal system like the Buffalo, with a tribe commanded by a single chief, and multiple tribes under the command of a High Chief. There wasn't much on the other races, but one book said Skyrim and 'Cyrodiil' operated on a system similar to Equestria's, but also different in a few ways.

Then there was the 'Thalmor', the ruling body of this 'Aldmeri Dominion'. Again, there wasn't much on hand, and what was there was at least a few decades old. They were apparently some radical group that took power in their homeland, the 'Summerset Isles', a few hundred years ago.  They also provoked the Empire into declaring war upon them, and even though the Elves were pretty much defeated at one point, the Empire surrendered. A whole bunch of 'unfair' conditions were forced on the Empire, which resulted in a rebellion currently waging here in Skyrim.

That was a lot to take in.

"Still reading that biased garbage?"

Applejack looked up from her current read, 'Pocket Guide to the Empire Vol. 1', and turned around. The 'Arcanaeum' ( what the hay is that supposed to mean?) was empty, save for Applejack and the new arrival. It was semi-spacious room, filled to the brim with books, tomes, and scrolls of all varieties, though the clusters of dusty books made walking from one end of the library to the other a hazard.

Trinity, still dressed in her black attire with her cloak and hood still on, stood in the doorway to the room. Her gauntlets remained off, revealing large serpent-like tattoos that ran up her arm. The long bodies of the serpents twisted and turned unto each other, ending in heads that looked like a Dragon's. Tearing her eyes away from the tattoos, Applejack spotted some sort of...instrument in her hands?

Trinity noticed the raised eyebrow before A.J. even noticed she had one, and rolled her crimson eyes. "What?" she asked.

"You never seen a lute before?"

"No. I'm just surprised you play one," Applejack replied.

Indeed, the instrument was a far cry form the ones travelers would bring into Ponyville. Instead of the polished wood and intricate carving on the wooden body, it was just a crude oak creation with a long, thin neck and eight strings. Trinity rolled her eyes and took up a chair at A.J.'s table.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, farmer," the assassin replied. "That book may come to break your skull open later."

Applejack rolled her eyes and shut the book. Trinity always had a demeaning attitude towards her, but this was going a bit far. "Oh, and would that book happen to be a no-good backstabbing vampire?"

The assassin donned a look of fake shock and placed her hand upon her instrument. "You wound me, farmer! To think that I would just waltz right up to you and place my dagger in your back?"

Trinity strummed several cords on the lute in rapid succession. "Besides, I'd need to be paid first."

Tythis couldn't stop shaking.

He'd been through six bottles of that stuff he had, but his nervousness wasn't going away. The elf just sat in his chair, fumbling around with an empty bottle. No, he wasn't checking up on Fluttershy, or pondering over notes on Isen's condition.

He was just drunk.

"Seriously, Tythis?" Twilight hissed. "This is all you're going to do?"

The Dunmer said nothing.

"Hey, I'm talking to you-"

Tythis raised his head, and Twilight let a out a muffled gasp. His crimson eyes were now a concerning bright red color, and large bags lay under his eyes. His eyes were filled with sadness, loss, and most notably, anger.

"Oh, will you just shut up already?!"

Twilight was shocked speechless, and the Archmage continued on.

"I have no idea what in the name of Azura Isen is being afflicted by, and I feel helpless! Nothing works, no matter how strong the potion or spell is."

The mage plucked a bottle of mead from the table and chugged down the alcohol faster than one would care to try. He pulled the bottle from his lips with a gasp, and threw the bottle at the wall, sending shards of glass everywhere. Twilight leapt from her chair on reflex, and Tythis wheeled around again.

"I've tried so hard," Tythis seethed. "I don't want to lose another!"

A pregnant silence followed. No one moved an inch, and the only sound was Tythis' heaving breathing. Finally, Twilight broke the silence.

"Another?"

The Archmage's breathing stopped suddenly, and his head jerked upwards at an unnerving speed. He stared at Twilight for a moment, no longer, and buried his head in his hands. Soft sobs fileld the room, and Twilight noticed the elf was crying. The cynical, sarcastic mage who had trash-talked the entire Equestrian monarchy, was crying. That...was new.

"D-do you know how old I am, Twilight?" Tythis asked in a bare whisper. When the violet-haired mage shook her head, Tythis looked up at her. "I-I'm...sixty years old starting next week. And I've never had a moments rest over those years."

Twilight's eyes widened. Sure, she didn't know much about elven physiology, but the Archmage didn't look a day over twenty-five, at the least. There was no graying of the mane-hair, and nor were there any wrinkles on the elf's face. How was that possible.

"I-I was born the bastard son of a Telvanni mage in Mournhold," the Dunmer continued. "I never knew my father, and after years of ridicule by others of the household, I went searching for him."

Tythis dragged himself over to a stack of books near the large garden area in the center of the room. He kicked the stack over, shuffled through it, and acquired a journal bound in red leather. It was worn from years of harsh treatment, and the spine looked ready to break at any moment. The librarian in Twilight made her want to gag, but she held a straight face.

Tythis flipped through the journal. "I journeyed from Valenwood to High Rock, from the great Alik'r Desert in Hammerfell to Lilmoth in Black Marsh. I could never find him, but after finding information on Solstheim, I sailed to Skyrim hoping to find my father."

Tythis stopped on a particular page, and brought out a...necklace. It was nothing special, just an iron chain with a single red gem the size of an eye. However, with the way Tythis was handling it, it was of value to him.

"Along the way," the elf said with a sob. "I met a dark-haired Nord barely past his fifteenth winter. He was brash, arrogant, and stupidly brave, but he had a good heart and a just mind. I respected that, so one day I approached about my problem. He promised me that if I joined his band of mercenaries, he'd help me on the search for my father."

Tythis returned to his chair. At first, Twilight was a bit stunned. Sure, mercenaries appeared some times in Canterlot, claiming some bounty or another. But Isen? No, it just didn't look right. The mercenaries that came to Canterlot were always some scarred, serious warriors that decked themselves in second-rate armor. Isen, however, was just too nice for a hired sword. And already a fighter at fifteen years old? Not even Shining Armor was that into the guard.

Tythis twirled the necklace around his hand a few times before catching it back in his open palm. "For the first few days, I acted prickly towards the others, taking no solace in the sell swords with me. 'Mercenaries only give their loyalty to the highest bidder', my mother told me. This was my outlook on Isen's company for a while."

A faint smile graced the Archmage's face, but it disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived.

"And then I met his sister."

Trinity had to hand it to the farmer: she was a killer pugilist.

The assassin had been duking it out with the blonde for about fifteen minutes, yet neither one showed signs of stopping.

That was good. Trinity liked it when her opponents could keep up with her. However, now as a very inopportune time for a confrontation. The vampire's little jab had pissed Applejack it bit more than she had thought out, and now the two were boxing in the middle of the College's main hall.

Trinity cartwheeled backwards, barely missing a right hook from her enraged opponent. It was sloppy, but it had enough power behind it to crack the stone of the pillar Trinity had been using as cover. She didn't have the sheer brute force Applejack had, and a full on confrontation would be suicide. Instead, hit-and-run attacks would suffice. Only if she could get close enough.

The vampire rushed forward and pushed off of the well in the middle of the hall. Applejack brought her arms up just in time for her steel gauntlets to block Trinity's drop-kick. Before the assassin could react, the farmer grabbed Trinity's ankle and swung her around. The assassin was surprisingly light, and when Applejack let go Trinity went flying into another pillar.

The force of the impact felt like Trinity was hit by a horse, but despite the probably fractured rib and bleeding nose, she struggled to her feet. Applejack rushed forward, trying to take the assassin by surprise. Trinity expected this and stepped to the right just before the armored fist of the farmer hit home on the pillar. Applejack grunted and held her forearm, and stepped back just in time to dodge another one of Trinity's kicks.

The vampire cursed in some unknown dialect and pressed her attack. A flurry of jabs and kicks descended upon Applejack, barely giving her time to raise her guard. The steel armor she wore was enough protection in some areas, but the joints were vulnerable to Trinity's quick attacks. Three minutes later, Applejack had lost all the feeling in her left arm, and her legs felt like jelly beneath her weight.

Seeing her opponent's weakness, Trinity  sprinted towards Applejack. In defense, Applejack sent forth a sloppy haymaker with her right fist. Trinity easily side-stepped the attack and seized the farmer's arm before chopping at her neck. Applejack reeled backwards from the attack, gasping for air, but the assassin was already upon her. Trinity gripped her opponent's shoulders and forced her down, and the vampire's knee collided with Applejack's gut.

Applejack collapsed to the floor, the breath knocked out of her by the final attack. She gave a grunt and attempted to rise to her feet, but Trinity planted her boot on the farmer's neck before it could be accomplished.

"My master taught me many things, farmer," Trinity said. "He taught me and my brethren how to kill, steal, and torture those who would get in our way."

Applejack scowled and tried to force the boot off her, but Trinity just pressed down harder on her neck.

"But he also taught us that there is honor in murder. Honesty within lies. Heroism in villainy."

Trinity removed the boot from Applejack's neck and pulled the woman to her feet. "Remember Applejack: not all heroes dress in gold and white, and others must become monsters to save you from monsters."

With that, the assassin simply left Applejack there to contemplate those words. In truth, her master had said none of that. He was a mute vampire much like Trinity, but that didn't make him unreadable. A one hundred and thirteen year-old assassin with the face like a young adult was a very emotive, and in the end that was is downfall.

Trinity dreaded the day such a fate might befall her. You don't live two hundred years as a hired killer just to fall on some vampire hunter's sword.

Outside of Dawnstar, Skyrim

Uriel Servetus.

Legion disliked the name. I fact, it disliked the entire body he had chosen, but Akatir had suggested doing the deed in the flesh. Legion didn't trust its subordinates with the exchange and had opted to take a mortal form instead. Sure, Legion's normal form could withstand the cold a thousand times better than this form, but that form was too conspicuous.

Legion was entirely covered by a thick black coat that reached down to its ankles, which were submerged in a snow drift that reached its knees. This was where they had agreed to meet, but where were they?

'Ask, and you shall receive.'

The snow drift before Legion erupted in a cloud of white, and in response Legion rolled back. Its hand darted to its belt, were a Ebony War axe dangled from the hip. It was tempting to draw it, but he needed to see what opponent lay before it. A bear or sabre cat would be easy to deal with, but time-consuming in Legion's current state. Of course, if it was one of them...

The cloud of snow finally parted, revealing Legion's goal in its entirety. The lithe form of a Khajiit came first into its view, followed by the black and red attire of Legion's contact. The Khajiit, female, if Legion was at least a bit competent in Khajiit physiology, had tawny fur with black embellishments across her face, which was hidden by the black hood of her clothes.

The yellow feline eyes of the Khajiit settled on Legion.

"What is life's greatest illusion?" the Khajiit asked.

"Innocence, my brother," Legion replied. Even in its mortal form, the thousand voices still rang out. The Khajiit stepped back at the foreign sound of her contact's voice, but regained that step with a faint smile on her face.

"Are you Dar 'Setha's contact?

Now it was Legion's turn to crack a smile, revealing a row of fangs. "Indeed. I have the down payment right here."

Legion reached into its cloak and withdrew a coin purse the size of its hand and threw it at the Khajiit. At the sight of the coin, Setha's tail twitched, and she the caught the bag with ease.

"Remember," Legion said to the Khajiit. "I need the six women alive. Anyone that gets in your way is fair game."

The Khajiit nodded and left Legion there in the snow. Besides, she had and her brethren had a Nord to kill.