Ice Veins

Ulfric Stormcloak sat upon his throne rubbing at his temples with the Jagged Crown sitting in his lap. It had been a long and frustrating day for Skyrim’s High King as he had just finished dealing with around forty whiney nobles and merchants of Windhelm. He had listened to them complain incessantly about the new taxes he’d had to impose on them and everyone else to pay for not one but two bloody wars. The two conflicts had left Skyrim nearly bankrupt and money was needed for the coffers. It had taken him almost all day to explain to the self important and very obnoxious nobles that this would not change to the way it was before. He had jokingly entertained the thought of using the Voice on them, but had opted to be more diplomatic in his approach and send them away after threatening to raise their taxes had been just as satisfying. The taxes were not even unfair, and were quite reasonable; Ulfric had even lowered the taxes for the non Nords in Skyrim to be equal to the taxes paid by the Nords in the hope of bringing more trade to Skyrim and make the country a more attractive place to live. More citizens meant more tax payers. This had also undoubtedly upset said nobles; as many of them wanted nothing more than to see these foreigners thrown out, whereas Ulfric himself was more or less indifferent about the whole deal.

Seven Years of war had shown all of Nirn that Skyrim was meant to be independent and free of meddling from outsiders, whether man or mer, and High King Ulfric Stormcloak would be damned if he would let his country fall from financial collapse because of the complaints of some self entitled milk drinkers who had done little if anything to contribute to that independence.   As the monarch stewed on his throne, the Palace of Kings suddenly shook as something landed heavily upon its battlements. While most men would worry, Ulfric smiled as he knew that this was no cause for alarm, just an old friend answering a summons. The High King looked expectantly to the massive ash wood doors, on each side was a warrior carrying massive battle axes and dressed in good solid Nordic Carved armor. The Skyrim Royal Guards were without a doubt one of the most feared fighting forces in Tamriel. While they had not been created in time for the war of independence with the Cyrodiilic Empire, they had been in the war against the Aldmeri Dominion, and proven themselves to be fierce, unbreakable and loyal warriors that would defend King and realm to the death.

The heavy doors opened and a tall figure entered the throne room, the wind blow his long dark blue cloak about him as he walked through the doors. At his side hung a sleek scimitar; and he was covered head to toe in stunning golden armor with a crested, masked helm, showing it to be of Dwemer origin. The tall figure approached the royal throne and knelt respectfully while removing his helm, revealing a strong, pale face with a pair of deep blue eyes and a head of short blond hair. The man was a Nord and had a long and ugly looking scar down his left cheek.

“Rurik old friend, you needn’t bow to me. If anything I should be bowing before you; slayer of Alduin.” said the king standing with a friendly smile.

“Of course old friend, it is good to see you again.” The Nord said with a kind smile.

“So, how have things been going in Markarth?” asked the High King.

“Excellent Your Highness, excellent: The engineering corps have a thousand Animunculi refurbished with several hundred more, well on the way. We now have nearly quadruple the machines we had at the end of the civil war when we took Solitude.” reported Rurik.

“This is good news. It seems like only yesterday we were pitching Imperial troops off of the walls of Solitude.” said Ulfric with nostalgia as he remembered the days when they had fought shoulder to shoulder against the Empire.

“Aye, that it does; those were good days.” agreed Rurik with a nod.

“Yes, back when I had less gray in my hair: and yet you don’t seem to have aged a day.” said Ulfric raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Uh… Good dieting and exercise?” replied Rurik with a shrug and sheepish grin causing the two of them to laugh a bit at the silly reaction.

“It has been too long old friend.” said the king.

“That it has Ulfric, that it has; though I doubt you called me here to reminisce about the good ol’ days.” said Rurik with a serious tone.

“Well, down to business then.” said Ulfric motioning to the war room. In the days of the civil war with the Empire and the war against the Aldmeri Dominion, the room had served not only as a war room, but Ulfric’s personal office; a function that was continued to this day. Inside of the room stood Ulfric’s court wizard and old friend Wuunferth the Unliving, his steward Jorlief, and Ulfric’s new Houscarl, and commander of the royal guard; Tancred Silvanius. With Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric’s former Houscarl now the commander of Skyrim’s armies, Ulfric had gotten a new Houscarl in the form of Tancred, an Imperial who had fought doggedly for his freedom to worship Talos in the Stormcloak ranks and proven loyal to a fault to the High King. The plate armored warrior had his helmet under his arm with a sleek katana hanging at his side and a look of utter disdain in his intimidating brown eyes. His dark hair and strong, scarred face made him a fierce looking opponent and this was backed up by his skill with a blade, which was legendary among the ranks of Skyrim’s army.

It was also a well known fact that Tancred and Rurik openly hated each other. The Imperial was a shining example of chivalry and honor on the battlefield, and fought his opponents head on in honorable combat. His Nord rival on the other hand was a master engineer and deadly battle mage who specialized in Dwemer Animunculi and weapons. Rurik was a genius simply put; he had always been a tinkerer as a child and eventually had gone to the Imperial College of Engineers in Cyrodiil’s Imperial City, where he proved to be adept with Dwemer technology. Part of the reason that the Stormcloaks had won the war against the Empire was due to his careful instruction to Ulfric’s smiths, and his knowledge of ancient Dwemer automatons. During the war, the Imperial commander, General Tullius, had thought himself fighting ill equipped rebels: until the battle for Whiterun. Whiterun became a turning point when Imperial soldiers and Whiterun’s guards found themselves completely outmatched by Stormcloak soldiers carrying Dwemer weaponry and shields backed up by refurbished Dwemer automatons. Whiterun fell in literally one hour thanks to the combined strength of the automatons and the determination of Ulfric’s troopers. To Tancred, this way of war was dishonorable; why send machines to do what a warrior should do? To Rurik however, if a machine died, a soldier lived to fight another day; and ensuring that Skyrim’s men and women came home to their families in one piece was more than honorable in Rurik’s opinion.  This clashing of personalities had led to fist fights on more than one occasion, usually ending with Tancred on the flat of his back: the Imperial had to admit that the engineer did have one mean right hook.

“Coward.” spat Tancred.

“Blowhard.” replied Rurik.

“Come now children, no fighting no biting.” said King Ulfric with an annoyed tone stepping between the two.  While Rurik broke eye contact and approached the table with the map of Skyrim, Tancred continued to glare at him with disgust and hostility.

“So Your Majesty; what is the situation?” asked Rurik.

“Well, Wuunferth will explain more, but the issues we have been having lately are rather strange storms. They have occurred over Markarth and Morthol already, no damage was caused but my people are worried. They are reported to appear as dark swirling storm clouds with lightning jumping around inside of the eye.” explained Ulfric.

“With all due respect Majesty, what do wish me to do? I know a great deal about science but I cannot control the weather.”

“Wuunferth, your turn.” said Ulfric stepping back and allowing the elderly mage to take over where he had left off.

“My scrying has determined that the next one will appear over Falkreath in about a day. While we have seen our share of storms in Skyrim, these are a first. We know nothing about them and we cannot tell if they are a naturally occurring event or something more sinister. That is where you come in.” Rurik did not like where this was going one bit. “With your connection with your dragon friend, you would be able to get close enough to observe this storm and tell us what you see and how it acts.” said Wuunferth.

“Odahving will not like this one bit.” replied Rurik matter of factly.

“There is plenty of gold in it for you.” said Ulfric.

“How much?” asked Rurik knowing he would probably regret it later.

“Ten thousand Septims.” replied Ulfric.

“Very well, I will do it.” agreed the engineer, knowing he would definitely regret it later. “Now, is there anything else I need to know?”

“Yes, I want to meet up with my student Stiggar in Falkreath before you observe the storm, he will be taking additional notes from the ground.” said Wuunferth.

“Alright, sounds like a plan, now I just need to get some supplies from home and convince my large and scaly friend to agree to fly me into a storm the likes of which has never been seen on Nirn, even before my people disappeared.” replied Rurik.

“Just be careful Rurik. I don’t need you getting killed because of this.” said Ulfric sincerely.

“Don’t worry about me your majesty; I am the soul of caution.”

“It is not you I am worried about; it is telling that wife of yours that you got killed on a job I assigned you!” chuckled Ulfric.

“Oh come on Ulfric, she isn’t that bad!” teased Rurik.

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The Next Day.

Although it took a great deal of convincing, Odahving grudgingly complied to aid Rurik. The old dragon was less than thrilled with the idea, but did not trust other dragons with the life of the man who was like a brother to him. Rurik had also prepared for a long journey despite riding on a dragon; it’s always better to be prepared than end up only wishing you were. He wore his suit of Dwemer armor, which had multiple enchantments. The boots helped him resist fire and made him stronger while the gauntlets made his attacks with his weapons and his fists more brutal, while his helm was an ancient Dwarven artifact known as the Visage of Mzund: which was enchanted to use moisture in the air and even the wearer’s own sweat to deploy a hot blast of steam. His breastplate was also a boon as it regenerated his stamina and healed wounds.  On Rurik’s left hand was his wedding ring; his wife would hunt him down and make him wish he were dead if he forgot that: while on his right hand Ahzidal’s ring of Arcana, which allowed him to cast the spells ignite and freeze. About his neck hung an Amulet of Talos: being Dragonborn, he felt a strong connection to the divine who in mortal life had also been Dragonborn.

For weaponry, the Nord chose his matched Skyforge Steel daggers, while his main weapon was the sleek and deadly scimitar known as Windshear: even a strike on an opponent’s shield was equivalent to being assaulted by a gale force wind. With the weapons set; Rurik filled his potion satchel with the musts: Health, Stamina and resist Magicka potions, throwing in some cure poison and cure disease potions for good measure. The last things he packed were more of a ‘just in case’ scenario as he had on occasion been invited to the court of Jarl Dengeir when he was passing through Falkreath and he preferred to look his best. These were fine clothes and boots from Radiant Raiment and a set of robes that had once belonged to the former Emperor of the Empire, Titus Mede II: who now lay six feet under in a tomb in the Imperial City, courtesy of a Dark Brotherhood assassin and old friend of Rurik’s.

Just to be on the safe side; Rurik grabbed the Aetherium Staff; an ancient artifact designed by the Dwemer that could summon a Dwemer automaton to aid him in combat or menial tasks. After grabbing a few more items, Rurik left the manor in the care of his Houscarl, Calder; and headed for the stables where he was to meet Odahving and fly to Falkreath. It was early morning: the sun had not even risen and all was quiet and peaceful. Despite peace and quiet and the possibility of a nice day, Rurik could not stifle the feeling of an impending disaster on the horizon.

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The flight to Falkreath itself took about twenty minutes. Rather than landing in the city, Rurik had Odahving land outside while he walked to the city to meet Stiggar at the local Inn. The streets were quiet as it was early yet, and no one save the town guards were out and about. It did not take Rurik too long to find the Inn and he walked in.

“Come on in, we just put some new logs on the fire.” said the inn keeper. Rurik nodded politely in response and found a chair to sit in. There were very few people at the inn due to the hour; it was just passed six in the morning.

“Nice suit of armor you have there friend: Dwarven I take it?” asked a guard who was on his break.

“Aye, that it is.” replied Rurik. Dwemer armor; while not as strong as Daedric or ebony armor; was still a highly sought after item in Skyrim, and many people envied Dwemer armor because of its steadfastness and craftsmanship. After chatting with the guard for a few minutes, a tall young Nord man walked into the bar. He was thin and clean shaven with blonde hair and blue eyes and wore a mage apprentice robe.

“Mr. Stiggar I presume?” asked Rurik rising from his chair.

“Yes sir, I am Stiggar: You must be Lord Rurik!” said the young Nord.

“Last I checked I was.” chuckled Rurik. After a bit of chatting: the two of them walked out to the hill in Falkreath overlooking a large lake. Rurik called Odahving and the three of them waited for the storm to arrive.

“This would be a great spot to build a house you know.” said Stiggar.

“Meh. I prefer to live in a closer proximity to a village or city: it’s too isolated out here.” replied Rurik thinking of his beloved Windhelm manor, Hjerim.

“I would prefer the top of a good high mountain.” Odahving chimed in.

“As a Dovah should.” said Rurik with a smile. The three of them chuckled and continued to watch the sky: sure enough, the dark clouds that were hanging over Falkreath began to swirl in a cyclonic manner.

“That’s our cue my friend.” said Rurik climbing onto Odahviing’s neck.

“Very well; hold on tight Fahdon!” replied Odahviing as the drake took to the air with his friend to investigate the odd storm while Stiggar furiously jotted down notes from his place on the ground. Everything seemed to be going fine as Rurik observed and even took notes: until the lightning started. This was no natural lightning; it was much brighter and much more intense.

“Rurik; we have to get out of here! I may be a Dovah, but I am not immune to the effects of lightning.” shouted the drake over the booming of the thunder.

“Very well Odahviing: they are not paying us enough to get ourselves killed, lets-” before Rurik could finish, a blinding white bolt of lightning lashed out of nowhere and struck both man and drake.

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The bright flash momentarily blinded Stiggar; causing him to drop his journal and quill and rub his eyes: once his vision returned; Stiggar looked around in panic: the storm had simply disappeared, and worse than that Odahviing and Rurik were nowhere to be found. Stiggar grabbed his notes and ran back towards Falkreath. How would he explain all of this to his master? Let alone High King Ulfric?

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“Are you alright my friend?” asked Rurik inspecting the huge trench in the ground that Odahving’s crash landing had left and thinking of how proficient that such a trench could be if used in warfare.

“I lost a few scales, but no broken bones or other serious wounds.” said Odahving with a heavy sigh. “How about you Fahdon?” he asked.

“I took a little tumble, but I am fine. It will take more than that to keep me down.” replied Rurik.

“You truly are a Dovah in the body of a Jul!” chuckled the Dragon.

“Thank you old friend; but now to business: we need to find our bearings and get home. I did not plan on getting lost in the middle of a forest. I can't even see any land marks around."

“That is most Problematic.” said Odahving.

“You are telling me; I knew I would regret taking this damnable job.” said Rurik punching a nearby tree in frustration.

“Calm yourself Fahdon, we will figure this out and be back home in no time.”

“Your optimism never ceases to amaze me Odahving; at least we have that.” replied Rurik with a half smile. “Anyhow, first thing is first, I should take inventory and see what we have to work with. I hope I didn't lose anything in the crash landing.”

“Agreed Dovahkiin, here take these supplies.” replied Odahving. The drake lowered his head to allow Rurik to get to a secondary satchel full of food and mead that was tied around his neck; this secondary emergency sack came in very handy for long journeys, and Odahving always had it with him on the mountain he lived on top of. By Rurik’s calculations, it contained about two weeks of food that could last around three if rationed correctly. His father had taught him to always be prepared for the worst; and that had saved his life on more than one occasion. The next step was to find a place to make camp as the clearing they had crash landed in was not a preferable spot in Rurik’s mind.

Being an engineer, he preferred to have the high ground in order to see the surrounding landscape, and be able to pick out any approaching danger, and eliminate it at range: He who had the high ground had the advantage. Rurik looked to the sky and saw plenty of cloud cover, while off in the distance, was the peak of a mountain.

“Odahving, go ahead and get some rest, I am going to scout ahead.” said Rurik closing up the satchel.

“Of course Fahdon, I stay here and await your call.” replied the drake. Even though he had only lost a few scales, he was grateful for the rest.

Rurik placed the Visage of Mzund back upon his head and prepared to move out. Once he was finished double checking his inventory, he walked forward into the dark of the forest; not knowing what lie within: but what did he have to fear? He was Dragonborn.

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Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes slowly; her vision swimming as she awoke and the first thing she felt was a warm, sticky liquid on her head. As her vision returned, she realized that it was blood: the next thing she felt was pain from the wound on her head. Slowly, the lavender Unicorn took in her surroundings. She was in chains, which were built from iron and fastened to her hooves, and a small ring was fastened to her horn. Twilight could tell that this ring left her magic utterly useless. She was across from Rarity, who was also chained and had a ring on her horn. It had started as a nice relaxing day; Twilight and Rarity had been going out to Zecora’s hut to visit her, but halfway out to the Zebra’s hut, they had been ambushed.

The Diamond Dogs had come out of nowhere; and the next thing they knew, they had been captured and chained: that was about a day ago. Twilight’s head was throbbing where she had been knocked over the head with the butt of a spear for mouthing off.

“Twilight darling! Are you alright!?” asked Rarity: the marshmallow colored unicorn’s normally pristine royal blue mane and tail were an absolute mess, and her sapphire eyes were filled with worry for her friend.

“I’ll be fine Rarity; are you ok?”

“Yes, I am alright.” replied Rarity.

“Let that be a lesson to you mouthy purple pony! That’s what happen when you mouth off!” said the obnoxious and conniving voice of the Diamond Dog leader as he jabbed an armor clad finger towards Twilight. These dogs were odd compared to the ones who had kidnapped Rarity around two years ago. They were much better equipped, head to claw in mostly iron armor, while the leader was clad in steel plate: and it was odd as Diamond Dogs ate gems for sustenance much like some dragons, and as such rarely sold them for profit; and the armor they were wearing was costly.

“Leave her alone you Ruffian!” snapped Rarity, causing the Diamond Dog to turn and stalk towards her.

“Snotty pony learns slowly!” growled the dog as he slapped the purple maned mare across the face. “She should learn to shut up!”

“How dare you strike a lady!” Rarity shouted.

“And I will do it again!” yelled the dog raising its b paw once more.

A high pitched whistle followed by the loud ‘THUNK’ of plate armor being penetrated made the dog stop and look down. Protruding from the dog’s knee was a huge icicle: making the dog howl in pain. He howled even more when a second ice spike slammed through the other knee; causing him to fall onto his back yelping and screaming in pain.

“What on Equiis is that!?” said Rarity with alarm looking at down the path in the direction they had been traveling towards. There; barring the path was a tall bipedal figure with icy mist swirling in its ‘claws’. It appeared to be wearing armor made of gold; and its face was covered by a similarly colored masked helmet which had a crest on top. Wrapped about its shoulders was a navy blue cloak, and at its side hung a sleek steel scimitar.

“That’s quite enough.” boomed the newcomer’s deep, heavily accented voice.

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Rurik had been walking through the dense forest for around twenty minutes when he heard what sounded like talking. The engineer moved slowly towards the voices at a crouch in a slow and cautious manner: he was not taking any chances. He moved up behind a large tree and took out a spy glass: and then cautiously peeked around the tree and took a look. What he saw was definitely interesting to say the least. He saw a band of dog like creatures wearing armor, carrying spears and shields; and they had prisoners. The prisoners were not other dogs, but ponies: brightly colored ponies at that. Both of them were unicorns, and they looked terrified. Carefully, he moved forwards, and looked again through his spy glass. He was shocked to hear the ponies talk: he had seen many strange things in Tamriel, but this was certainly a first. The conversation was now beginning to sound like an argument. When the mutt in plate armor hit the white one, the Nord felt his blood boil: these ponies were sentient beings being taken against their will, possibly to a life of slavery. It was time to deliver some good old fashioned Nord Justice.  The dog shouted and raised his paw again, and it was all the reason Rurik needed to engage the target.

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The lead dog howled in pain as Rurik stalked forward; the other diamond dogs held their spears in a defensive manner, but he could tell that they were completely terrified of him.

“Boo.” he growled dangerously. The diamond dogs dropped their weapons and ran off screaming into the forest, leaving their leader to fend for himself against the golden monster. Rurik walked over to the dog that was whimpering in agony, his sabbatons crushing small stones beneath them; and knelt at the dog’s side.

“So, what were you doing with them?” asked Rurik courteously, poking his thumb towards the ponies, who sat with awed expressions on their faces.

“Leave me alone monster!” spat the dog.

“Wrong answer.” replied the Nord simply; reaching down and twisting one of the spikes embedded in the dog’s knees, causing the creature to scream in agony.

“Now, I will ask again: what were you doing with them? Please chose your words carefully: I am not a patient individual at the moment.” said Rurik.

“Okay! Okay! We were hired to catch ponies from town and bring ponies to work in mines!” said the dog quickly.

“Where is this town and how many more ponies are there?” asked Rurik.

“One day due east of here; and it is filled with ponies! That was all diamond dogs were doing, I swear!” he whimpered. Rurik however knew by the dog’s body language that this was not at all the whole truth. Rurik yanked the ice spike out before slamming one of his sabbatons down on the injured knee; causing more pained yelping.

“Do you really think I am that stupid!? Tell me the truth, mutt! One: you had too few troops to take an entire town, and two; why did you have just them if there was an entire town? Out with it!” spat the now ill tempered Nord.

“We were hired! Employer told us he wanted purple pony for ransom! We found her and her friend in the forest and caught them!” sobbed the dog.

“So, you’re a sell sword; fools like you should learn that there are some jobs that should not be taken. Who hired you?”

“Don’t know who he was: He was pony, like white one and purple one; but he stayed in shadows and wore black cloak so I could not see him.” replied the dog with a shrug. Rurik knew he was telling the truth; plus the sun was beginning to set, and he wanted to get to a better location before setting up camp.

“Give me the keys to their chains, and I will help you instead of just killing you and searching your body; luckily for you I am feeling merciful today.” said Rurik yanking the other ice spike out swiftly and readying his healing magic. “I will heal you in exchange for the keys: and allow you to leave unharmed, but keep in mind that if I see you or your associates again, I will not be so merciful.” finished Rurik. The dog did as told before the Nord healed him and allowed him to leave.

Once the dog had left, Rurik walked over to the ponies to release them from their chains.

“Are you all alright?” he asked the equines who were still staring at him with awe and fear. After the initial shock wore off they  shook their heads up and down.

“Okay, good: now I am not going to harm you, I am going to get these chains and rings off of you and I will get you home.”  One by one he unlocked the chains before discarding tem in the bushes with the keys.

“Thank you.” said the lavender unicorn mare with genuine gratitude.

“All in a day’s work, your thanks are not required but welcome.” replied Rurik.

“All the same; thank you: My name is Twilight Sparkle.” she said offering a hoof like a man or elf would offer a hand shake. Rurik accepted the hoof shake and introduced himself.

“I am Rurik Skull-Taker; pleased to meet you Miss Twilight.” replied the tall creature returning the gesture before standing back up to his full height and removing his helmet.

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Twilight found herself intrigued and at the same time terrified of ‘Rurik’ as he called himself, due in small part to his last name. It was obvious from his voice that he was male; and as he removed his helmet, Twilight found in front of her a creature she had never before seen in Equestria. He was tall; very tall: a full head taller in fact than Princess Celestia. He resembled a tall and more upright version of an ape, but was clearly intelligent and judging from his armor and how he wielded several types of magic; came from an advanced race of some sort. He also had very little hair: save for a golden, short cropped mane atop his head and two little strips over his eyes. His flesh was pale, and a long scar ran down the left cheek, making him appear at a glance as if he had a constant, grotesque, half smile. He had intense deep blue eyes which she felt were boring into her soul and calculating everything about her, yet also had a kind peacefulness to them: but the last name frightened her and she found herself involuntarily shaking.

“S-S-S-Skull-Taker?!” she asked nervously. Rarity backed away a little bit with a nervous look at Rurik; at which he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“The name dates back nearly three thousand five hundred years; our clan was renowned for our combat prowess, particularly due to the grisly trophies my ancestors kept in their settlements. The name stuck and has not been changed for millennia; we are quite civilized now; so I assure you there is nothing to fear.” replied Rurik calmly. Twilight relaxed a bit at this revelation and stopped shaking.

“Oh, that explains that… ” replied Twilight feeling a bit foolish.

“Here, allow me to take a look at your wound: infections are not very fun.” he replied simply. Twilight approached him and allowed him to look the injury over. He took the end of his cloak and wiped the blood away from her face, before sealing the wound with his magic.

“There, good as new.”

“Thanks.” replied Twilight.

“Not a problem. Now that the awkwardness is over, how about your companion stops cowering in the bushes and introduces herself.” said Rurik turning his gaze towards some bushes close by. Rarity exited the bushes; the marshmallow unicorn mare had a sheepish grin on her face.

“Now, may I kindly ask your name Miss?” asked Rurik politely.

“I am Rarity, Element of Generosity and owner of Carousel Boutique.” replied the mare trying to fix her mane.

“So you are a tailor?” he asked politely

“I am more of a fashionista, I design and then create clothes, so I guess you could call me a tailor as well” she said in her signature accent. Rurik made a mental note to ask later what she meant by element of generosity.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Rarity.”

“So, not to be rude; but what are you and where are you from?” asked Twilight.

“I don’t know about you, but I want to get out of this forest as soon as possible: we can play Q and A later.” A wolf’s howl in the distance only served to reinforce what Rurik was saying.

“Agreed! If we follow this path, we will be back to our home town Ponyville in no time.” replied Twilight.

“Alright then let’s get under way, if it is a full day’s journey, we will be stopping for the night and making camp. I can answer some of your questions then.” replied Rurik. The lone human and his pony companions began down the trail back towards the town.

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A few hours later.

The forest seemed to never end; and Rurik suddenly halted, his new companions stopped with him: he felt as if they were being watched. The Nord’s suspicions were answered by a low growl.

“Please tell me that was one of your stomachs growling.” said Rurik.

“I wish I could!” replied Twilight fearfully as a group of five wooden wolves walked into the  clearing.

“What in the name of Ysmir are those things!?” he asked readying his Magicka.

“Timber wolves! said a scared Twilight.

“Can they be destroyed!?” asked Rurik.

“Yes, they burn very easily!” replied Twilight. Rurik quickly conjured up flames into his hands, and released two jets of flame, incinerating three of the five wooden attackers. The ones caught in the blast of flames yelped as they were burnt to ash. The other two dodged the flames; and leapt into the air, leaving him with no time to draw his scimitar, he focused his vital essence.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!” at Rurik’s shout, a massive wall of flame roared from his mouth, and incinerated the remaining two wolves. Luckily, the flames from the small skirmish quickly died out and they did not have to worry about being caught in a forest fire. After the initial shock wore off, Twilight raised her hoof as a student would for a teacher.

“Yes Twilight?” asked Rurik.

“What was that!?” she asked.

“The flames were destruction magic, but the way I blew fire out of my mouth; that is a little harder to explain. We should find a spot to make camp before it gets any darker: I will explain then.” said Rurik.

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After quite a bit more walking; the party came to a small cave. With no other form of shelter except for some trees, Rurik decided to investigate the cave, and after making sure that nothing lived inside that would try to make a meal out of them in their sleep; he deemed it a good enough place to make camp for the night. Rurik had set about creating a campfire, and used his flames spell to light it. He also placed some runes in the entrance to deter any would be intruders.

“What are those things?” asked Twilight.

“They are flame runes: do not step on them or you will get burnt to a crisp.” warned Rurik.

“Why did you place them?” asked Rarity.

“To keep any hungry critters out.” stated Rurik simply. “Now I believe you two had some questions for me?”

“Yes.” said Twilight.

“Alright, you ask me one question each, and then I will ask you one, sound fair?”

“Sure.” she answered.

“Alright then, ask away.” said Rurik.

“So, what are you and where are you from?” asked Twilight.

“I am a human; a Nord to be more specific. We Nords hail from the Kingdom of Skyrim; on the continent of Tamriel; on a world known as Nirn: that answers that in a nut shell.” answered Rurik. Twilight’s horn flared as she used a spell to record the Nord’s voice so she could write it down later. Rurik was unsurprised by this; after all, he was a sentient being who used magic, why wouldn’t sentient ponies be able to?

“Your armor is quite spectacular darling; is it made of gold, and why ruin it with that dark blue cloak? Why not bright red or even green?” asked Rarity.

“Well, to answer the first part of your question; this armor is not made of gold: it is made from a metal that some scholars have dubbed Dwemerethium. The metal can be very difficult to come by unless one knows where to look, and is also somewhat expensive. It gets its name from the people who invented it; an extinct race of subterranean elves known as the Dwemer. They were one of the most advanced races on all Nirn, creating living machines that still patrol the halls of their cities and weapons that were centuries ahead of even what we have today three thousand some odd years later; and one day, they just disappeared. There are many theories, but no one truly knows what happened to them. As for the cloak, these are the colors of Skyrim’s High King; Ulfric Stormcloak: and I would rather die than be caught wearing anything red on my armor.” said Rurik with a bit of venomously with his face betraying anger.

“Why is that? Red is such a fabulous color when used correctly.” said Rarity. Rurik decided to humor the fashionista.

“Red is the color of the Cyrodiilic Empire: an oppressive empire that Skyrim was once part of. They used to have honor, and were good rulers, but they lost all after they bowed to the Thalmor.” spat Rurik.

“What’s a Thalmor?” asked Twilight. Once again, Rurik ignored the breach of the rules for the Q and A session.

“They are the governing body of another country: The Aldmeri Dominion; a Kingdom of Elves who are known as High Elves, or Altmer. They hate humans, and they will do anything to spite us: if they had it their way they would kill every last human on Nirn. Elves look a lot like humans, but they are taller, thinner, and have pointy ears. The Empire fought a war against them; and lost because the coward emperor had no backbone. The treaty they forced down our throats ripped away our religious beliefs and not only that; but they could use the Empire’s troops to enforce it. They were also given free rein to enter provinces in the Empire with their secret police and arrest people who were suspected of continuing their faith. Many friends of mine were never seen again.” said Rurik with sadness.

“That’s so horrible!” said Twilight.

“Aye, that it was, but the men of Skyrim had had enough. We Nords do not take kindly to being pushed around like that. Our current king, Ulfric, Challenged the puppet king that the Empire had on the throne to single combat. It was the one of the shortest duels in Tamriellic history; the puppet was killed; but the Empire wanted Ulfric’s head. He and some of the Nobles formed an army and we fought back. We won the war and threw those red wearing Imperial scum out of our home: and Ulfric was officially recognized as High King. That Miss Rarity is why I will not be caught dead wearing red with my armor. Formal events are another matter though.” finished Rurik.

“I’m so sorry darling, I assure you I meant no offense.” said Rarity earnestly.

“None taken; The subject just brings up some painful memories” replied Rurik.

“Your world sounds so violent.” said Twilight sadly.

“That it is, I take it by the looks on your faces that you come from a more peaceful society?”

“Yes; in fact the closest thing we had to a war was last year at a royal wedding when a there was an attempted invasion. Things have cleared up, but tensions are still high between our country and the other. We haven’t fought an actual war in more than five hundred years; and crime is very rare.” replied Twilight.

“I see. Speaking of; where in the name of Stendarr am I?” asked Rurik.

“You are in the Everfree Forest, in the Principality of Equestria, on the world of Equiis.” answered Twilight. She then gave him a brief overview of Equestrian history and society; and mentioned some of the other countries around Equestria such as the Griffon Kingdoms and Minotaur Empire. He was amazed and somewhat jealous of how tolerant the ponies were, as even after King Ulfric had put his foot down with the issue of multiple Royal Decrees, some cities and towns in Skyrim were not welcoming to non- Nords. He had fallen into a paradise. He was unsurprised that Equestria had not had a war for well over five hundred years and that crime was very rare; and found himself beginning to really admire this ‘Princess Celestia’ that Twilight told him of. He was also very distressed though: not only was he not in Skyrim anymore, he was not even on Nirn. She suddenly noticed that Rurik had a very sad and somewhat shocked face.

."What's wrong?" asked Twilight with a concerned look.

"I am not even on my own world anymore. How can I get home; will I even be able to go home?" he said shaking his head.

“Well, I am Princess Celestia’s personal student: she is a master of magic, and if anyone can figure out how to get you home, she can.” said Twilight walking over and placing a hoof on his shoulder. Rurik however began to think very deeply. If Twilight and her friend had been kidnapped by sell swords, then the one who had hired them had wanted something from the princess: probably money, as the dog had claimed, but he was not going to jump to conclusions.

"Thank you Twilight." said Rurik looking at her with a ghost of a smile. A few minutes passed in silence before their little q and a session continued.

“So, you also have magic; can you tell me a bit about it?” asked Twilight.

“Why yes, I can. Magic on Nirn is divided into five schools: Alteration, Conjuration, Restoration, Illusion, and Destruction. I majored in Alteration and Restoration; which allows me to better protect myself against attacks both physical and magical as well as heal myself or others: and also in Destruction; which harnesses the power of fire, ice and lightning to smite my foes.” explained the Nord. He was still very shocked, but hid it well.

“What do some of the other schools involve? asked Rarity.

“Well, the other two schools are highly frowned upon in Skyrim, and few people there practice them.”

“Why is that?” asked Twilight.

“The school of Illusion is primarily used by power hungry mages and assassins, as it can allow the user to influence the minds of others, or even turn the caster invisible; while Conjuration dances on the precipice of evil. Conjuration magic is occasionally used by spell swords: lightly armored mages who also are good soldiers; to summon a weapon from thin air: but it is also used by necromancers and corrupt sorcerers to raise the dead; or worse: summon Daedra from the plains of Oblivion itself.”

“What on earth is a Daedra? It sounds dreadful.” said Rarity.

“That is too kind a word to describe them. There are many types of Daedra, but the most dangerous ones are the Daedric Princes. Each one rules a realm of Oblivion, and while a few are good; most of them see mortals as mere playthings to be tossed away at a whim. Conjurers mostly summon lesser Daedra, and even they are very dangerous.” replied Rurik.

“How many of these princes are there?” asked Twilight.

“There are seventeen of them: only four are what I would consider good.” replied Rurik grimly. Twilight decided it was time for a change in the subject.

“So, that thing you did earlier with your voice? How did you do that?” asked the lavender unicorn.

“Well, it was just before the war with the Empire started: I found out that I am what is known as Dragonborn, meaning I was born with the soul and blood of a dragon. Now, the dragons of our world wield their powers through their voice, by using what are known as words of power. They consist of three words and each word makes the shout all the more powerful; and they are spoken in the dragon tongue. The words I used earlier were “Yol” which means fire: “toor” which means inferno: and “shul” which means sun. These words require power to use, and gaining that power can be rather unpleasant.” explained Rurik.

“Why is that?” asked Rarity.

“To gain the knowledge of the shout, one must study the words in depth, to completely understand them: it takes years of study for normal people, while a Dragonborn absorbs the souls of the dragons he slays to gain their knowledge.” Twilight wore a horrified look on her face, thinking of her adopted little brother Spike.

“Why do you have to kill them?" she asked with a worried look on her face.

“It is difficult not to do when most of them would rather kill you than reason with you.” retorted Rurik darkly. Twilight swore she saw the blue eyes of the Nord flash an angry unnatural red for a brief moment before returning to their natural state.

“Do you even try talking with them before you kill them?”She asked stepping back a little.

“Why should I when I see the burnt corpses of innocent men women and children. When I see a child weeping over the charred remains of her mother and father, only to be eaten by the beast moments later. Were they given a chance to reason? To even beg for their lives? No they were not. You were the one who said that my world is violent; and now you know how violent it is” said Rurik shaking his head. He rose from the stone he was sitting on and walked towards the front of the cave.

“I would rather not talk any more on the subject. Get some sleep you two. We have a long day ahead of us. I will take the watch tonight.” he said sadly as he put his helmet back on.

“But Rurik darling, you need rest too!” said Rarity with concern.

“I don’t need sleep, I will be fine.” he said walking to the front of the cave to stand watch. What had started as a decent conversation had ended with bad memories. Rarity and Twilight doused the fire and turned in for the night, unsure of what tomorrow would bring.