A changeling's visit to Skyrim

by Erised the ink-moth

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Comedy, Adventure, Crossover
Length: 188656

A changeling gets thrown into Tamriel's province of Skyrim, and meets the Dragonborn at the begining of her adventure to stop Alduin. What does fate hold in store for this unlikely side-kick to a prophesied hero of legend?

IMPORTANT EDIT - Nov/2/2015: This story is currently undergoing a complete re-write. I will be taking this current story down in order to post a brand new version on FiMFiction later this week. Until then, consider this fic officially cancelled.
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Stross was just a normal changeling, until a teleportation spell overloaded and sent him all the way across the sea of infinite worlds to Nirn, specifically to Skyrim on the continent of Tamriel. But this is not necessarily a bad thing.
Now on a quest with the legendary Dovahkiin, he must question whether or not he even wants to return home at all, or live a life of adventure in this exciting and open new world.

…or you know, become a guard after taking an arrow to the knee.

Awesome cover art provided by James Corck

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-06 04:28:35 UTC

Tutorial tow- I mean... Riverwood

The wagon had careened down the hill, completely out of control, until it came to a crashing halt right into a large tree. Stross had been flung from the cart on impact, landing in the river while Fenora lay there inside the wagon of various knick-knacks and cheese wheels. Both of them were singed and aching... but still alive.

“This was a triumph.” Stross announced as he pulled himself up “I’m making a note here ‘HUGE SUCCESS’!”

“I got us out in one piece didn’t I?” Fenora countered, clearly irritated at Stross and his sarcasm.

“All I’m saying is that we could have just ran for it; would have been slower, but much safer.” Stross explained as he shook the water off his scales. “What are you doing?”

Fenora was currently rummaging through the wagons’ contents, tossing aside several books and cabbages.

“Looking for something to-… A-ha!” she exclaimed as she pulled up a long, thin knife, likely used for gutting fish “Now I can get these ropes off.”

With some difficulty positioning the blade, Fenora managed to cut free from her binds. Taking a moment to rub her sore wrists, she then turned to Stross and offered him the knife. But before he was able to take it, she pulled it back, a playful smile crossing her face.

“Wait… first, tell me my escape plan was good.”

“What?”

“Go on, tell me the wagon was a good plan and I’ll give you the knife.” Fenora dangled the fish knife in front of him.

“You can’t be serious.”

Fenora's smile widened and she raised an eyebrow.

“Fine, taking the wagon was a pretty good plan, and I’m probably too hungry to run that far anyway.” Stross admitted.

“And that’s what I wanted to hear.” Fenora chirped as she sliced the ropes off.

Stross and Fenora set off down river, their prisoner rags replaced with the clothes they found along with the rest of the things on the wagon. Stross had donned a grey hooded cloak and leather boots, and Fenora was now wearing a large fur-lined garment that Stross had to assume was normally worn by males.

“Are you sure it’s okay to just take that stuff?” Stross asked as they walked along the shore of the river.

“Well, those poor people back at Helgen sure won’t need it anymore.” she answered sadly as she readjusted her makeshift pack, the rest of the non-vegetable items from the cart inside “I guess when we reach the next town I’ll let them have this stuff.”

“Where is the next town anyway?”

“Not sure, I’m not from around here you see.” Fenora told him.

“I know the feeling.”

Before long they came to a split in the path; one side continuing along the river, the other heading back up the mountain. As Stross and Fenora tried to decide which path they should take, they heard footsteps coming from the path on the right. Soon enough, they met who was making them.

“Hey, it’s you two.” Ralof ran up to them “It’s good to see you made it out alive. I thought we were all goners when that dragon attacked.”

“We need to keep moving, Riverwood isn’t far.” Hadvar joined him.

With a total of four members in their party now, they hurried down the dirt path towards the town called Riverwood.

“So this town, where is it?” Stross asked as he jogged to keep pace with the two nords.

“It’s right up ahead,” Ralof told him “my sister Gerdur and her family runs the mill there.”

“And my uncle Alvor is the local blacksmith.” Hadvar added. “We have to warn them about the attack on Helgen. I just hope we're not too late.”

As the group approached the town, they were relieved to see that it was neither on fire nor destroyed. Starkly contrasting their fears, the town was downright peaceful.  There were children playing and running around, a drunkard sitting outside the tavern, people fishing and chopping logs, and going about their business without a fear in the world past what would be for supper.

“Huh, I guess some things remain the same no matter where you go.”

“So, there’s a river… and wood.” Fenora observed out loud “Three guesses how they named the place.” she smirked.

“Lady, you would have the time of your life in Equestria.”

As they approached the center of town they overheard a conversation at the smithy.

“I’ll need those new blades for the mill soon, otherwise the logs won’t split evenly.” a woman said.

“I know that, but give it some time, will ya. You think it’s easy to sharpen all those little teeth?” a man grumbled.

They were interrupted when they noticed they had visitors.

“Ralof, brother is that you?”

“Hadvar, what brings you here my boy?”

“Uncle Alvor, Riverwood is in danger; a dragon has just destroyed Helgen.” Hadvar explained with dread in his voice.

“It’s true,” Ralof joined in “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, but there it was. It was huge, as big as the inn.”

Gerdur and Alvor exchanged looks as several other villagers gathered around, drawn by the talk of dragons.

“You see, I did see a dragon fly overhead!” an old woman yelled amongst the rest “None of you believed me, but I knew I saw it!” she threw an accusing finger at each of the others in turn.

“Did it fly?”

“Did it breathe fire?”

“How big was it?” the children asked.

“It was just like the legends and the old stories,” Hadvar told them “red eyes, and scales black as night.”

“Actually,” Stross chimed in “I got a pretty good look at it as it was diving right for us, and its scales were more grey-ish than any oth-

“Scales black as night!” Hadvar continued “Even a platoon of imperial archers couldn’t bring the beast down.”

The crowd gasped and murmured amongst themselves. You didn’t need to be a changeling to smell fear, and now there was plenty of it in this town.

“That’s because imperial steel is weak.” Ralof butted in “If those had been Stormcloak soldiers, we’d be feasting on that dragons’ meat right now!”

“You mean the same Stormcloaks that were running like cowards while we got the townspeople to safety?” Hadvar retorted.

“Last I checked, our hands had been tied up by you imperials. And at least we aren’t a bunch of elf-lovers who won’t even stand up for nord tradition!” Ralof roared.

“And at least we imperials know what’s best for Skyrim, and don’t follow a king-murdering rebel!” Hadvar yelled back.

“Oh for Shor's sake!” Gerdur interrupted the two before they could start duking it out “Enough, both of you; you’re scaring the children.”

“Yeah, the children placing bets while they line up to watch two grown men beat the tar out of each other.”

“Honestly, to think you two were such good friends when we were children ourselves." Gerdur shook her head "If there really is a dragon on the loose, then we need to tell the Jarl up in Whiterun about this so he can give us some protection.”

As Ralof and Hadvar began arguing over who should go, a thought occurred to Stross.

“Hey,” he got Fenora's attention and pulled her off to the side “Hadvar’s an imperial and Ralof’s a Stormcloak, right?”

“Yeah, and they both seem equally barbaric. What’s your point?”

“Well, one of those factions just tried to execute us, and the other is the reason they were going to execute us. So how about we just go and warn this ‘Jarl’ ourselves?”

Fenora looked at him quizzically.

“You know, before either remembers who we are and decides to kill us?” he not-so-subtly hinted.

Fenora's eyes widened. She grabbed him and they quickly made their exit while a fist fight broke out, the children cheering wildly.

M'aiq and his wise words of wisdom

Fenora finally slowed her pace once they reached the edge of town, and allowed Stross to get his feet on the ground again. Taking a moment to make sure they weren’t followed, she began to breathe normally again.

“Will you warn me the next time you’re going to do that?” Stross asked as he popped his shoulder back into its socket.

“Sorry about that, but I’m not too keen on getting a Viking crew cut.” Fenora reminded him “Let’s just get to Whiterun, it should be in that direction.” she said, pointing down a cobblestone path.

“How do you know that? I thought you weren’t from here.”

Fenora simply pointed at a wooden sign that had directional arrows for Whiterun, Riverwood, and Bleak falls barrow among others.

“Oh” Stross said, his ears drooping slightly.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you, where are you from anyway?” Fenora asked as they walked around the mountainside “Back in Helgen you mentioned Duna-mar and Equestria, but I've never seen or heard of those places, even on the old maps.”

“You could say I’m not from around here.”Stross replied as he struggled to keep up “I’m not really sure how far that spell took me when it misfired. I haven’t had much chance to get my bearings yet.”

“So a spell brought you here?” Fenora inquired “You’re a mage?”

“Not a very skilled one, but I can use magic. In Equestria, everyone’s born with at least a little.”

“What about alchemy? Does anyone practice that where you’re from?” Fenora seemed a bit more enthused about this topic.

“Well, not most ponies I’ve met, but zebras seem to study it quite a bit.”

“What’s a zebra?”

“They’re like ponies, but with more stripes and… awkward wordplay.” Stross tried his best to explain.

“So then… what are you?”Fenora looked to him and slowed her pace.

“I’m a changeling.” he said before he could stop himself. “Why did I just tell her that? Darn it, those eyes of hers are hypnotic!”

“You mean like the fairy people that kidnap children and swap them with their own?” Fenora chuckled “My mother would tell me those stories when I was young; said they’d take me away if I was bad.” she laughed.

“You’re not actually a child stealer, are you?” Fenora asked, her tone becoming more serious.

“I guess I should tell her, just so she doesn’t misunderstand…”

“No, I don’t steal kids. Changelings are more like shape-shifters than anything else.” he explained “We take the form of someone else in order to blend in. People don’t like us too much because of how we feed.”

“Why, do you drink blood like vampires?” Fenora eyed his fangs.

“Actually, we eat love.” he said matter-of-factly. "What's a vampire?"

“Love? How does that work?”

“Well, you see it’s not just love, strictly speaking.” Stross began “Really, any living being capable of thought produces energy just by being alive; energy that changelings use to sustain ourselves. Most of us just call it ‘love’ because more of this energy is produced during moments of intimacy.” You could practically see Stross putting on a teachers cap and pulling down a chalkboard at this point. “However, we’re feared for this because it’s seen by most as devouring the souls of our victims. Though this is not true, there are harmful side-effects when we forcefully syphon the energy out of our targets, which is why this method is in fact discouraged and even frowned upon by most changelings for the unnecessary pain caused to our prey.” he took a deep inhale “Furthermore-

“Okay, changeling magic, got it.” Fenora interrupted. “Let’s keep moving, we’re almost there.”

“But I haven’t even gone over the extent of the harmful side-effect, and the differences in feeding, and the-

“NEEEEERRRRD!”

Within a few minutes the path came to a curve and over a bridge which the river flowed under. From the top of the hill they could see across the plains in the early afternoon light. Before them lay several small farms surrounding a tiered city of wood and stone; the palace of Dragonsreach visible from where they stood, looking over all from atop its’ perch atop the village below. This was Rohan, home of the horse lords Whiterun, domain of Jarl Balgruuf.

“I’m guessing that’s Whiterun;” Fenora gazed out at the city “quite a sight isn’t it?”

Stross looked out at the city as well, but for him it didn’t hold so much wonder as it did dread. Most if not all his time spent in the cities of Equestria, he had been in disguise. Even in this new place that fear meant something. He had gotten lucky back in Riverwood with his new cloak to conceal him while the people were distracted by the talk of dragons, but he was more than reasonably nervous about going into any kind of large city without any power left to transform, to hide himself or even run away if need be.

“Stross, are you okay? You look a little pale.” Fenora asked as she moved over to him, mildly concerned. “And you’ve been having a hard time keeping up too.”

“Hmm? Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just haven’t eaten in a few days, that’s all.” Stross finished his sentence only to find Fenora hastily stuffing a salmon steak into his mouth.

“Mphf!” he yelled through bits of fried fish before Fenora finally ceased her assault “What are you doing?!” he yelled, pieces of food still clinging to his fangs.

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m trying to feed you!” Fenora responded indignantly “‘A few days is WAY too long for anyone to go without eating; I’m surprised you can even walk!”

“Did you even pay attention to what I told you about the whole ‘changelings survive off love’ thing? It’s the only thing that can truly sustain us; anything else we ingest just gets turned to resin in our guts.” Stross explained as he wiped his mouth clean with the corner of his cloak. “Besides, I’ve gone longer than this without feeding, I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, a whole two minutes longer.”

“I still feel like I should help you, if there's a way to give you some love.” Fenora told him.

Stross eyes widened at this, then the same smirk Fenora gave him a while back now crossed his face.

“N- not like that!” she quickly defended “I’m not even sure if I could.” a light blush covered her cheeks and she averted her gaze “I mean, I think you’re alright, but… we literally just met and-”

Fenora was interrupted when she felt something smooth brush against her face. She looked up to see Stross standing much closer to her now, one hand brushing the hair out of her eyes, the other on her waist. She felt her heart begin to beat faster as he smiled up at her, staring into her being with his aqua blue eyes.

“Are you sure you don't have feelings for me?” he softly whispered as he pulled her closer. "That there isn’t something more?"

“I… I think I…” Fenora stuttered, trying to find the right words as her face got even redder.

“M’aiq hopes he is not interrupting.” a voice to their right said before Fenora could finish.

They looked up to see a cat-person in a yellow robe staring blankly at them. Stross and Fenora quickly sprang apart, glaring at their newfound distraction.

“M’aiq apologizes, but M’aiq could not help but overhear.” he said in a purr-ish voice “M’aiq says that love is like a polaroid picture; it takes time to develop, but will always become clear.”

“What does that even-

“M’aiq is tired now, goodbye.” he finished the conversation before disappearing behind a tree.

Stross and Fenora simply stood there a while before they exchanged a glance.

“To Whiterun?”

“To Whiterun.”

They followed the road past a pair of buildings; “Honningbrew – finest mead in all of Skyrim” read a sign outside.

Now that she knew of the exhaustion Stross suffered from, Fenora slowed her pace significantly as they walked. However, a lack of nourishment wasn’t the only reason Stross had slowed down, for he was also lost in thought.

“What was that back there? At first I was just joking around, but then I… I just lost myself. And Fenora…

“She thought that was real. She barely knows me, yet those feelings were there, and they were strong too; I could practically feel it the whole time. But why? And I wasn’t even disguised as someone she knows. Is that a good thing? I mean, is that even possible; to love a changeling?

“And if I’m going to feed off anyone, and I will need to eat before long, it might as well be from someone who’s willing.

“But the only reason her feelings emerged was because I forced them out. If it wasn’t real... I don’t want to hurt her by mistake. She might have felt love for me without me having to fool her. Not only that, but she could have left me behind or even killed me at any point, but she didn’t. She trusts me.

“Maybe that’s what that cat was talking about; if I earn her love for real, I’ll never have to worry about starving as long as I have her with me.

“But would that even be love? I might need it to survive, but even if I earn it it’d still just be because I don’t want to die; I’d essentially be farming her feelings for me. Isn’t using someone like that wrong?

“Argh! This is why I could never have invaded Canterlot, I’m too soft! I could never see anyone as ‘just food’. Why can’t I-

Before Stross could continue, his thoughts were interrupted by a thunderous crash from a field nearby. He would have to continue his confusion and self-loathing later.

Whiterun, city of side-quests

Turning to the source of the noise, they found a small group of warriors engaged in battle with a giant, umm… giant. The fight seemed to have been going on for some time, as evident by the damage sustained by the field around them, as well as the apparent injuries sustained by both sides. However, the fight quickly ended when the archer of the group managed a clean shot into the giants’ neck; stunning it long enough to be finished off by the large man with a sword.

Impressed by the warriors’ skills, the elf and changeling decided to walk over and congratulate them on their victory.

“Well that settles that; no thanks to you two.” the archer with the face paint threw out as they approached.

“Wait a minute, what?” Stross wanted to yell “They actually expected us to join in the fight? First of all, we’re not fighters like they are, and secondly we just got here as they finished it off! Were we supposed to know that this battle was going on and rush to their aid? Or-

“I didn’t seem like you needed any help.” Fenora told them as Stross continued to silently go over everything that was wrong with the situation at hand.

“True, but most warriors would leap at the chance to take on a giant.” the archer boasted.

“Maybe, but we aren’t really warriors. We’re more like… travelers.” Fenora explained.

“Well if you ever decide to take up the sword, come find the Companions in our mead hall, Jorrvaskr. We’d be glad to have some new recruits. Which reminds me,” she turned to the others “back to Jorrvaskr Companions! We must share tale of our victory with the others!”

“And get some rest,” the man with the sword added “those giants pack a wallop.”

With that, they set off towards the city gates; leaving Fenora and Stross standing alone in the destroyed field.

“-and finally, my favorite drink is raspberry lemonade… where’d they go?” Stross finished his thoughts before he found Fenora was leading him along again.

As they approached the gates of the city, Stross felt compelled to stop at the camp set up outside the city walls; out of curiosity if nothing else. When he walked over, he found it populated by the same cat-people like the one that had mysteriously appeared as if from nowhere. Sitting on a rug in the tent appeared to be an elder, beckoning him over.

“Greeting friend, this one's name is Ri’saad. What is yours?” he introduced himself.

“Stross, my name's Stross.”

“A pleasure to meet you, I sense that you are not from these cold lands, neither am I.” he told Stross. “You are seeking to enter Whiterun, yes?”

“Yes, we’ve got to warn them about the dragons.”

Ri’saad's eyes widened for a second, and he seemed to be lost in thought for another. Remembering Stross, he returned to the conversation.

“In any case, I require your assistance. There is a young woman within the walls of this city. She is an associate of mine, and I must get a message to her.”

“That’s it? Why can’t you just tell her yourself?” Stross questioned.

“Because traveler, the Jarls men have forbidden khajiit like myself from entering the city. This is due to the rumor that all khajiit are thieves and drug dealers.” Ri’saad explained bitterly.

“I know the feeling.” Stross told him, remembering his own situation back in Equestria. “What do you need me to tell her?”

“Excellent, her name is Ysolda. Tell her to acquire a mammoths tusk, and Ri’saad shall aid her in her pursuits.” he explained.

It seems that Skyrim and Equestria aren't so different. A few bad apples may not spoil the bunch, but they can really spoil it for the rest.

When Stross caught up with Fenora she was already at the city gates, attempting to gain access past a number of guards in yellow chainmail. The sight of them made Stross freeze for a second, remembering the guards back home.

“Okay, calm down Stross.” he told himself as he took some deeper breaths “You may be extremely weak and low on power, but you haven’t done anything wrong here. These guys don’t even know what a changeling is and- Wait… they don’t know what a changeling is! They won’t see me as a threat!”

With this new revelation, his fear melted away and he confidently walked up to the gate, joining Fenora as she talked with the guards.

“I’m telling you, there’s a dragon out there! It destroyed Helgen!” she yelled.

“And I keep telling you, I don’t believe stories from crazies and drunks.” the guard told her in a deep voice. “If you’re going to keep up this nonsense, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I guess no one here got the news.”

“It’s true,” Stross chimed in “we barely got out of that place alive. And we’re not the only ones who know; ask anyone in Riverwood and they’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Look,” the guard told them stoically “I don’t know what kind of joke you’re trying to pull. But dragons died out in these parts centuries ago, and now you expect me to believe that one appeared out of nowhere, destroyed an entire city, and no one but the two of you saw it?” if you could see past his visor, his eyebrow probably would have been raised as far as it could go.

“Well…”

“It does sound kind of dumb when you put it that way.” they admitted.

“Right then,” the guard continued “unless you have any actual business in the city, I suggest you turn around and-

“Actually,” Stross interrupted “I happen to have a message for someone.”

“Oh really; and who would that be?”

“Ysolda, it’s about a deal with the khajiit.”

The guard face-palmed (Face-visored?) as he heard this. “Oh darn that girl and her bargains with those filthy-” he muttered “Fine, but make it quick.”

Stross shot Fenora a smirk and motioned her forward.

“Well that went better than I’d hoped.” Stross said as they walked through the bustling streets towards the market. “They seemed kinda’ hostile; what did you even say to them?”

“The truth.” Fenora said plainly “I told them about the dragon and how we’re all in danger... and that if he weren't so incompetent he'd already know this.”

Stross face-palmed."First off, insults don't help. And second, you didn’t need to tell them that! You could have just said ‘Hey can I go in to do some shopping?’ and they’d be all ‘Sure, go right in.’” he explained “Not difficult.”

“Speak for yourself; maybe you’re okay with lying, but I’m not.” Fenora told him “I still can’t believe they thought I was drunk just because I talked about dragons!” she yelled indignantly.

"It’s not lying, it’s giving them only what they need to know. And don’t be so hard on yourself; I personally would think you’re drunk all the time.” Stross complimented with a big sarcastic grin.

Fenora responded by slugging his shoulder.

“So I have to ask before we go any further.” Stross began, just now realizing something that should have been obvious for him “Why are we even going through all this trouble in the first place? The warning them I mean.”

“You really have to ask that?” Fenora shot him a glare.

“I’m serious, we could have been on our way anywhere, like back to your home at… what was it, High Rocks? Anyway, I’m starting to doubt anyone will bother to listen,” Stross reasoned “and even if we don’t tell them about this, they’ll find out on their own when that thing is swooping down on top of them.”

“But look around you,” Fenora told him “what do you see?”

They both paused for a moment, standing just outside the market district. Around them were stalls set up with farmers selling their crops, and children ran in between the stalls. A man leaning up against a store building talked with a passing musician about how “everyone in Skyrim is obsessed with death these days”. As they walked past the final set of stalls, they saw a woman curtly refuse a courting attempt while her daughter watched with a laugh.

They climbed up a short flight of stairs into a gathering area with a large tree as the centerpiece. To their right, a preacher yelled praise before a statue as loud as he could, and to their left stood several buildings, houses and temples by the look of them.

“That’s what she meant.” Stross let out a sigh.

“Okay, I get it.” he told her “Even if they won’t listen, we at least have to try. Otherwise it will be too late by the time they realize it themselves, and then they'll get stomped into the ground by that dragon.”

“Precisely.” Fenora nodded “I can’t bear to see innocent people die when I could’ve saved them. Not ever again.”

“Again?” Stross asked, his interest piqued “What happened the first time?”

“I… don’t want to talk about it.”

They made their way up the steps to the palace. The guards halted them at the massive wooden doors.

“Halt, what business do you have at Dragonsreach?” one asked.

Fenora was about to answer, but Stross stepped forward before she could.

“We’ve got an important message for your Jarl; his people are in danger.” he told him, withholding the information about the source of this danger until he actually held an audience with their leader.

“Right, come on in, he’ll want to hear about this.” The guard opened the door for them.

“Lots of people, not many guards, and you can go pretty much anywhere on pretty much any excuse? I hope Chrysalis and her bumbling swarm don’t ever find this place.”

When they entered the large hall, they began to overhear an argument coming from the other end of the room. As they reached the top of the stairs, they caught the middle of a discussion between the Jarl and his advisor past the wood fire burning in the center of the floor.

“-while bandits nest in the hills, attacking merchants and travelers. Do you suggest we do nothing?” one voice asked in a frustrated tone.

“We shouldn’t be too hasty my lord, the Jarl of Falkreath will assume we’ll join Ulfrics’ side and attack him.” the other replied.

They both looked up as Stross and Fenora approached.

“What is the meaning of this?” a grey-skinned elf spoke up “The Jarl isn’t expecting anyone today; explain yourself.”

“I’ll have to handle this carefully.”

“We come with dire news.” Stross began “This is going to sound ridiculous and insane, but Helgen was just destroyed by a dragon.”

There was an uncomfortable silence before the entire room burst out laughing. Jarl Balgruuf, his adviser Proventus, the maids, and the guards were clutching their bellies as they gasped for breath. Even Irileth, the Jarls normally stoic housecarl had to suppress a chuckle.

“Oh, you were right, that did sound ridiculous, but thanks for the laugh.” The Jarl said as he regained his composure “I needed that after today.”

“Keep it cool Stross, just keep driving the point until they accept it.”

“Right then,” Stross spoke up again “now that you’ve all had a good laugh, there’s still a flying death-machine on the loose.”

The atmosphere in the hall lost its lighter tone and became much more serious, the occupants changing to match.

“Surely you can’t be serious.” Jarl Balgruuf said, now leaning forward to give his full attention.

“I’m serious, and don’t call me Shirley.” Stross answered.

“You realize how outrageous this claim is don’t you?” Proventus chimed in. “Dragons haven’t been seen in Skyrim in-

“Centuries, we know.” Fenora joined in as well “But if that giant, fire-breathing lizard that destroyed an entire town just this morning wasn’t a dragon, I don’t know what it was. And if you don’t believe me I can just show you the burn marks.”

Before anything else could be said on the matter, a new voice joined in from a small study adjacent to the hall. “Did someone say dragons?” it called.

“Oh divines help us, not this again.” Balgruuf rubbed his temples.

Within seconds, the source of the voice entered the room. He was a rather skinny nord wearing blue robes and a pair of spectacles.

“Hello there, I’ve spent most of my life researching dragons, and now you two say you’ve seen one with your very own eyes?” he took over the conversation, his voice carrying a distinctive lisp “What was it like? How big was it? You said it destroyed an entire town?”

These questions and more bombarded them until the Jarl interrupted.

“Enough Farengar, what they’re saying is clearly impossible.”

“One sure mark of a fool is to dismiss anything that falls outside his experience as being impossible; though I’d surely hesitate to call you a fool." Farengar responded. “And if these travelers are telling the truth, I would like to borrow them for a certain project of mine.”

“Fine,” Balgruuf sighed “with their consent, I’ll allow this. But I won’t be acting on these rumors without hard proof.”

“Excellent, follow me to my study.” Farengar motioned them to follow.

Once in his study, filled with various maps, charts, and scrolls, he explained the results of his research. Most of it would have made perfect sense to a dedicated scholar, but was a bunch of gibberish to Stross. Though from what he could understand, there was a prophesy in the form of an ancient chant that foretold the coming of Alduin, the world eater, and how he would rise an army of dragons to destroy the world.

“And that’s where the two of you come in.” he finally started getting to the point “In order to prove my theory, I’ll need you to fetch a stone tablet called the ‘dragonstone’ for me. With it, I’ll be able to locate all of the ancient dragon burial sites.” he explained. “And when I say ‘fetch’, I mean risk your lives delving into a dangerous ruin that may or may not contain it.”

“Wait, he wants us to what now?”

“You want us to what now?” Fenora asked, as skeptical as Stross was.

“Yes, I want you to go on a dangerous mission in the name of knowledge and discovery, and you want to prove that dragons have returned to Tamriel; it’s clear we should help each other.”

“Are we seriously going to-” Stross began before Fenora cut in.

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll just do it myself.”

“I guess we’re going then.” he relented.

“The things I do for love.”

“Excelent!” Farengar practically jumped for joy “If my information is correct, it’ll be in Bleak Falls Barrow, no doubt interred in the main chamber. Oh, and one more thing,” he picked up a small jar from a nearby mixing table “would you take these frost salts to arcadia for me on your way out? I’m sure she’ll compensate you for the menial task of delivering it.”

“What are we, a delivery service?”

“Sure, give them here.” Fenora took the frost salts before she left, pulling Stross behind her.

“Good luck,” Farangar called after them “and try not to die!”

"Count on it," Fenora called back "And you might want to turn down the heat on that spriggan sap!"

An explosion followed by a cloud of smoke erupted from the study right after they left.

Bandits of Bleak falls

“Thanks for the frost salts,” Arcadia said as Fenora handed her the jar. “they’ll be important for this love potion I’m making; perhaps I’ll test it out on Farenger for having others do his leg-work for him.” she joked “Here, take these as payment.” she passed her a few mixed-and-matched potions.

“Thanks, and let me know how that little 'experiment' goes.” Fenora grinned, and they shared a quick laugh.

“What’s wrong with your friend there?” Arcadia asked, noticing Stross slumped over in the corner. “Is he sick? I have remedies for nearly any ailment.”

“I’m not really sure, he says he’s hungry, but he can’t eat food like we can. He says his kind can only feed off love, of all things.” Fenora explained.

Arcadia raised an eyebrow.

“I can’t really wrap my head around it either.” Fenora admitted “According to him, he hasn’t been able to ‘feed’ in at least a few days, and by the rate he’s slowed down just since this morning, I believe it, and I’m really starting to worry.”

Arcadia was intrigued by this, she prided herself on be able to cure nearly anything with her potions. Diseases, burns, broken bones, and even hangovers were things people came to her for on a daily basis; surely this would be easy enough.

The two of them walked over to Stross, he perked up slightly as they approached.

“Stross, Arcadia want to take a look at you, she thinks she can help.” Fenora explained.

“But I’m fine.” he protested, trying to stand up straight.

“You’re not fine!” Fenora insisted “You’re going to die at this rate, and I want to help you somehow.”

Stross relented, realizing that his friend was right, he allowed Arcadia to begin her examination.

“So,” she began “what kinds of symptoms have you been experiencing?”

“Just the normal things that come from early withdrawal, like tiredness and difficulty using spells.” Stross named off a couple symptoms, but he knew that headaches, dizziness, and weakness follow not long after, and eventually the weakness and headaches would turn to pain. Fenora was right, at this rate he would die, but it wouldn’t be quick, and certainly not painless. He was glad she was eager to help, but wasn’t sure there was much to be had.

“I’m going to need a better look at you if I’m to know what I’m dealing with,” Arcadia told him “Could you remove your cloak?”

Stross nodded and pulled back his hood. Arcadia paused as she caught a look at his eyes for the first time but managed to regain her focus. However, every frame of reference she had was completely shattered when he removed his cloak entirely.

“Wh- what are you?” Arcadia stuttered as she looked over Stross’ form, black shell covering it from head to toe.

Stross stared at her for a second before answering “I’m a changeling, you’ve probably never seen one before.”

“He’s not dangerous.” Fenora quickly added.

“If- if you say so,” Arcadia took a couple of steps back “but I don’t think I can help you; I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Y- you might try Danica Pure-spring at the temple of Kynareth, she’s an accomplished healer.” she told them, now safely behind her counter again.

Stross let out a sigh. “Thanks you for trying.” he said before re-donning his cloak and heading outside. Fenora shot a glare at Arcadia before following.

“I’m sorry Stross.” Fenora said as she walked beside him out of the market area.

“It’s okay; I don’t expect anyone to react well to me. At least not without hiding what I am.” he lamented “If I weren’t so low on power

I could turn into someone else, someone that doesn’t look like they came out of a nightmare. Until then, I’ll just keep this cloak on.” he pulled the hood further over his face.

“Come on, there will always be scaredy-chickens out there, but this is Tamriel. We have cat, and lizard people here; you can’t be the strangest thing anyone’s ever seen.” Fenora told him with a smile “You’re just a little more weird than the weird we’re all used to.”

For most, it might have been hard to take this as a compliment, but it still made Stross feel better.

By the time they had reached the main gates again, they had run into Ysolda, and somehow got roped into finding a mammoths tusk for her. The mammoths tusk that she was supposed to get. Well, I guess Ri’saad never specified how she had to get it.While they were mulling over where in the world they were supposed to find one, they didn’t notice an argument happening nearby.

“Okay, I’ll prove it!” a man in an old set of imperial armor shouted to another in a fur coat.

“You there,” he stopped in front of them “Greymane or Battle-born?”

“What?” Stross asked, not understanding the question.

“You got stones in your ears? I asked you what side you’re on; Greymane or Battle-born?”

“What?”

“Are you new here or something? Where are you from?”

“What?”

“’What’ ain’t no country I ever heard of! Do they speak English in ‘What’?”

“What?”

“English mother-bugger! Do you speak it?”

“What?”

The man drew his sword, clearly quite annoyed “Say ‘what’ again! I dare you, I double dare you. Say ‘what’ one more gods damned time!”

It was at this point that several guards stepped it to break up the fight.

“Sir,” began one “I’m going to have to ask you to stop that… blatant rip-off of a cult classic. You’re going to get us all sued.”

“Fine, but this isn’t over.” he monotoned and put on a pair of shades “I’ll be back.”

“Not unless you want to pay the legal fees, you won’t.” the guard threatened as he pushed him off.

“Sorry about that,” the guard apologized “ever since the war started, the Greymanes and Battle-borns have been at each other’s

throats. Safe travels, adventurers.”

“I used to be an adventurer,” another guard started “then I took an arrow-

“That’s great, but we’ve got to get a move on. Thanks again.” Fenora interrupted as she helped Stross through the gates.

…

“Well, back to it then.” the guard turned to his once adventurous friend “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

His friend simply stood there for a while, tears welling up under his visor.

“Th- they didn’t… want to hear my story.” he choked out as a sad song began to play in in the background.

The walk back to Riverwood was quite uneventful, at least from the perspective of an onlooker. But for Stross, his feet felt like they were made of lead. Every step took a huge amount of effort, and he nearly fell more than a few times. By the time they reached the ridge where they had first gazed out upon Whiterun, he was having trouble breathing, and his vision blurred every few moments.

Suddenly a wave of intense pain shot through him, it was immediately followed by numbness and he collapsed to the ground without as much as a whisper. If Fenora hadn’t kept looking back to him, she wouldn’t have seen him fall.

“Stross, stay with me!” she said as she helped him back to his feet.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to-

“Hey, don’t worry; I’ve got you.” she pulled his arm over her shoulder and helped him forward “Let’s just get to Riverwood, okay.”

“What about the barrow, the dragonstone?” he asked weakly as they passed the fork leading up the mountain.

“You’re in no condition to make that climb. I’ll leave you in Riverwood to rest, while I go in and get Farengars’ dumb rock.”

Stross wanted to argue that he would be fine, that he didn’t want to leave her. But he knew that she was right; he had slipped into the later stages of hunger. He couldn’t use his magic, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with her, and if they ran into trouble along the way he’d be nothing but dead weight.

He sighed and held on to her as best he could as they made their way into Riverwood.

When they reached the interior of the town they were greeted by the sight of a small mob forming near the inn. Two figures were arguing at the head of the crowd.

“They have my sister, we have to get her back!” a man shouted “Who knows what they’ll do to her.”

“Calm down Lucan, we can’t just go charging up to the barrow.” Gerdur told him “Those bandits are too well armed for the likes of us.”

“But we have to do something.” an elf joined Lucan’s side “I love Camilla!”

“I love her more!” a bard countered “And she said she would pick me over you any-day.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.” they argued back and forth; the children once again placing bets.

“Will you two stop it?” Gerdur interrupted them “We don’t need another drunken brawl.”

“At least they’re willing to help!” Lucan shot back “If we wait for the guards to show up, it’ll be too late by the time they arrive!”

Fenora decided to see what the commotion was all about, and stepped up onto the deck of the inn with the others.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“A few nights ago, bandits broke into Lucan’s shop and stole his golden claw.” Gerdur explained.

“And my sister decided to be a big damn hero and get it back!” Lucan screamed “Now they have her too, and now we can’t get her back because miss ‘wood-chopper’ over here says it’s too dangerous.”

“Those bandits have been camped up at the Barrow for months; we’d never even get close.” Gerdur countered.

“You mean Bleak Falls Barrow?” Fenora asked “I’m heading up there anyway, I could get her out on my way through.” she offered.

This earned her several gasps from the crowd, as well as an “Are you crazy?” from Stross.

“Oh don’t worry about it; I know how to deal with bandits.” she assured them “Just look after my friend here while I’m gone.”

“Oh no… no, no, NO!”

Stross could deal with being hungry, he’d become accustomed to running and hiding, and knew he was worthless in a fight. But this was more than he could take. He didn’t care that they had only met that morning; Stross wouldn’t just stand by while the one true friend he had in this world marched off into danger without him.

He showed his determination and loyalty… by losing his balance and falling flat on his face.

“Fuck. My. LIFE!”

About twenty minutes later, Stross lay limply on a bed inside the inn. Fenora had received an iron sword from Lucan the shopkeeper and had headed up the barrow. The elf archer Faendal, and Sven the bard accompanied her, hoping to rescue their damsel in distress and win her affections.

Meanwhile, Stross stared at the ceiling, feeling incredibly useless.

“If only I wasn’t so weak right now, I could have gone with them. I guess I’ll just stay here until they get back.”

Another wave of pain shot through him, adding to his misery. They had been more and more frequent as more time passed. Stross tried to remember exactly how long it had been since he last fed.

“…and that was about four days before I reached Ponyville. When I arrived here in Skyrim, it was day time, but in the prison it was night. Then they brought us to be executed in the morning…”

He moaned as he realized how much time had passed.

“Five whole days… and that spell that brought me here probably drained me even more.”

He turned onto his side and curled up into a ball, hoping that it would in some way ease his pain.

“You were at Helgen, weren’t you?” a voice asked him.

“Yeah, before the dragon blew it all up.” he answered weakly.

“And you told the Jarl, correct; you and the elf?” the woman asked.

“Yeah, but they all laughed at us, said that dragons were a myth.” Stross told her “Farengar said he’d help us though, if we got the dragonstone from Bleak falls barrow, he’d prove we were telling the truth.”

Stross waited for a response, but instead heard footsteps exiting his room.

“Orgnar, I’m heading out.” the voice sounded again.

“Do what you gotta’ do, I’ll be here.” Orgnar responded.

Stross simply took a deep breath and sighed, another jolt of pain interrupting him. Looking over at the end table, he spotted the potions Fenora had left him; the ones they received from Arcadia.

“What have I got to lose?”

He grabbed the nearest one. ‘Potion of illusion’ the label read.

“Great” he thought as he picked up the next one.

‘Potion of brief invisibility’

“Why would I need this? I can just turn invisible on my own… well, I could if I had any power left.”

The third one made him raise an eyebrow. ‘INCINERATE! by Ryan Industries – when it simply has to burst into flames, don’t wait, Incinerate!’

Setting that one aside for later, he picked up the fourth bottle. ‘Viagra’ ‘potion of enhanced stamina’

"Yeah... not after last time."

The final bottle seemed like the only one that seemed like it had even a remote chance of helping him. 'Potion of regenerate magika'

Stross didn't really know what 'Magika' was, but he was too hungry to care at this point. Giving a small shrug, Stross uncorked the bottle and drank its contents.

Meanwhile, Fenora, Faendal, and Sven were making their way up the mountain to the bandit stronghold at Bleak falls. The temperature had dropped significantly as they trekked up the snow-covered trails.

“It’s freezing up here, how much further?” Fenora complained.

“It shouldn’t be too much further; you can actually see the entrance from the river down there.” Sven told her “It’s always given me chills looking at it.”

“To think that poor, sweet Camilla is in that horrid place.” Faendal grimaced “I hate to imagine it.”

As they rounded a corner, Fenora immediately pulled them down. When they threw looks of question, she responded by pointing out a bandit lookout, partially hidden amongst the falling snow.

Taking Faendal’s bow, she nocked an arrow. Training her sights on the bandit’s exposed neck, she drew back the string. Long repressed memories of anger and regret surfaced as she overdrew the string a final inch. Slowly exhaling, she released the arrow… and watched with a slight satisfaction as the bandit collapsed on the ground in a heap.

Faendal and Sven simply sat back in awe, clearly impressed by the feat of marksmanship they’d just witnessed. Fenora paid them no mind however, and simply handed Faendal back his bow.

Moving over to the now dead bandit, she searched his body for anything useful.

“Let’s see here. A shank, twelve wooden arrows, a rickety crossbow, half a bottle of mead, and twenty-seven septims.” she listed of the items to herself as she pocketed or discarded them. She didn’t bother with the clothes or armor; not only would they protect you less than tin-foil, they also stunk to High Hrothgar.

Satisfied with the loot, she kicked the body over the edge of the cliff and motioned for them to keep moving.

Faendal and Sven just gave a quick glance at each other before following.

Once they reached the entrance to the barrow, they noticed several more bandits patrolling the outer courtyard; standing watch with longbows from the stone overlooks. Fenora was trying to decide the best way to eliminate them without the others taking notice, when the main doors opened and what appeared to be their leader called them all inside.

“What’s going on, did they spot us?” Sven asked.

“No,” Fenora replied as she watched them leave their posts “it’s something else. Let’s follow behind them, quietly.”

It wasn’t hard to get in unnoticed; the bandits didn’t even bother to close the door. Sneaking inside into the large inner room, they saw the bandits conversing around a bonfire in the center. In total there were ten of them, all clad in fur and hide armor and wielding either bows or hand axes. The leader, wearing iron platemail spoke up.

“Arvel stole the claw and ran ahead. He’s probably trying to take the treasure for himself.”

This revelation was met with sneers and angry yells from the rest.

“That damned traitor, I knew he was up to no good.”

“He was a dunmer, what do you expect from an elf?”

“Hope the traps down there get him!” they said in disgust.

They continued this talk until the leader silenced them with a raise of his arm.

“Forget the claw!” he shouted “We’ve got something better.” he walked to a darkened corner. When he returned, he carried a woman with him; heavily bound and gagged. “We’re gonna’ be richer than that shiny trinket could ever make us when we ransom this broad off! You know, after we have a little fun with her, if you know what I mean.” He chuckled.

The others just stared at him for a second, comprehending what he meant.

“Oh, you idiots.” the leader face-palmed “I’m talking about sex!”

There was a long, resounding ‘Oh… we get it now’ followed by cheering.

“Not so fast!” Faendal shouted as he jumped out into the open and nocking an arrow.

“Release her or face our wrath!” Sven joined in, brandishing a woodsman’s axe.

“Does ‘stealth’ or ‘element of surprise’ mean anything to these guys?” Fenora thought as she slinked away into the shadows.

But even though they were outnumbered and outmatched, against all odds, Faendal and Sven… still totally got their butts kicked, and the bandits were now celebrating over their two new hostages.

Fenora, who was smart enough to sneak around the bandits and not get captured, was currently thinking of the best way to dispatch such a large group. Pyrotechnics quickly came to mind as she spotted several barrels of ale across the room, perched precariously on their sides. And located conveniently above them were a torch, and some old rags.

“Man, they just make it too easy sometimes.” she said to herself.

“Make what too easy?”

“Oh, those barrels of ale over there, they’re perfect for creating a fire hazard; especially with those rags and torches just sitting right next to them.” she explained to the bandit that had walked up next to her.

Several glorious seconds of comedic awkwardness passed until Fenora realized what was amiss.

“Oh shit.” were the last words out of her mouth before she was dragged over to the rest of the prisoners. So much for being smart, huh?

“Well what do we have here?” the bandit leader said as he looked over the struggling elf “This day is just getting better and better!” he yelled triumphantly, his call echoed by his followers “Oh and this one’s a looker. I’m gonna have fun with- yurgk!

He yelled out in pain as Fenora jammed a shank hard into his side.

“Oh you’re gonna’ pay for that one you little-

He raised an iron-gloved fist to strike her back. But before it could make contact, his fist froze in mid swing, soon mirrored by the rest of his body. The confusion and anger in his eyes turned to pure terror before the life left them completely.

The rest of the bandits, as well as their prisoners just watched in confusion as the hulk of a man simply stood there, his arms and legs going limp, and his skin turning cold and pale.

With a shimmer of light, the potion of invisibility wore off, and before them stood Stross; his right hand clamped firmly around the bandit leader’s neck, clawed fingers digging into his flesh. He slowly turned his head to the rest, and let the body of their leader fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

It took only a second for the rest of the rabble to snap from their confusion, and to their next train of thought.

“KILL IT!”

With a battle cry and axes raised, they charged forward. But what they didn’t notice in their frenzy, was the bestial glint in Stross’s now pitch black eyes.

With a wave of his arm, the fires and torches extinguished, plunging the room into darkness. In the next second, Stross himself erupted into flames.

Hovering above them, surrounded in a flaming halo, he let out the most blood-curdling shriek ever made by a mortal being.

Descending down upon the terrified thugs, he immediately grabbed the nearest two and drained them of their life force almost instantly.

A volley of arrows from the remaining bandits struck him, pircing his shell in several places, but this only enraged him further.

Pointing his hand at the offending archers, he snapped his fingers. As he did, their bows burst into flames along with their arms and legs.

In the chaos, he moved in for the kill, and in the course of a minute, four more bandits lay dead.

Three more rushed him with hammers and battle-axes, pummeling him and hacking at his scales. But though the wounds cut deeply, they served little to even slow him down.

With one bandit’s skull clamped in each of his hands, and the third’s neck within his jaws, Stross swiftly ended their lives.

The remaining two didn’t even bother to look back as they dropped their weapons and ran for the door. But Stross was not feeling merciful that day, he was feeling hungry.

Downing one with a blast of flame, he pounced on the other from the air. Syphoning the life from his victim and smashing its head open when he was done.

Slowly rising to a standing position, he turned to see the final bandit cowering in a corner. Bleeding and badly burnt.

“P- p- please… don’t kill me.” he begged.

Stross frowned and grabbed the young bandit by the scruff of his neck, dragging him to eye level.

“Why should I let someone like you live?” Stross asked, his voice more heavily distorted, and his eyes still solid black.

“I have a family!” he shouted “I was mad at them for never letting me do what I wanted, s- so I became a bandit.” he sobbed “I was wrong! Please, I’ll never do anything bad ever again, just let me go home! Please!”

Stross was silent and still for a long time. Slowly, he lowered the boy to the ground before turning and walking away. The frightened young bandit didn’t need to be told twice, and ran away from the barrow as fast as he could.

Not a monster

Now that the slaughter was finally over, the lingering flames on Stross extinguished, and he slowly shuffled back to the others. But for him, this was not a victory; it was not a moment of triumph where he valiantly saved innocent lives from a band of criminals.

For Stross, it was a moment of hunger and desperation fueled by anger and fear. It was a moment where he lost control, and killed nine people in the most horrible way he could manage as a result. Their life-force was now his; it was the most he’d ever taken in at one time. If he was careful and didn’t use magic, Stross wouldn’t need to feed again for weeks, or even months. Any changeling would have been ecstatic to be in his position, but Stross was utterly disgusted at himself for how he obtained it.

The looks he received from those he saved gave him no thoughts to the contrary.

For the past few minutes, Camilla, Faendal, and Sven sat in the corner as far from the fight as possible. Their eyes were wide with terror as he approached them, a distant look on his face.

None of them dared to make a sound, but they each recoiled as he reached out to them with his claws. But Stross paid their fearful gestures no mind, and pushed forward as he sliced them free of their bindings. Faendal and Sven both fainted at this point, leaving Camilla the only one still conscious. To her immense relief, Stross simply turned and walked away.

During all this, Fenora had simply stood where she was, watching Stross rip apart the bandits single-handedly, and then freeing their captives. Right now she continued to watch as Stross limply walked over to the nearest wall and just stood there with his forehead pressed against it.

Deciding to first see if Camilla and her would-be rescuers were okay, she quietly made her way over.

“Are you all okay?” Fenora asked. She waited for a response, but the only person that could answer just stared back at her.

“Hello? Camilla, are you alri-

“What was that thing?” Camilla interrupted in little more than a whisper. “It was- And then- They were all-” she tried to form the right words.

“Don’t worry, that’s Stross; he’s a friend, and he saved us.” Fenora assured her. “Will you be okay to make it back to Riverwood?”

“Riverwood… the claw… they took it.” Camilla mumbled out.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it. Just get back to town; your brother’s worried about you.” Fenora helped her up.

After Fenora had loaded Faendal and Sven into a wheelbarrow she found, likely stolen from a nearby farm, Camilla was sent on her way back to Riverwood.

“Well, it’s not a long trip, we cleared out the bandits on the way up, and it’s downhill the whole way. She’ll be fine.” Fenora took in a deep breath only to sigh as she turned around “Now for the hard part.”

Slowly and quietly, she walked over to Stross, who still had his head on the wall. The wounds on his body, which were once very serious, had now faded away to mere scratches on his carapace. Any burns that might have existed had also been healed, yet the shafts of arrows still stuck out of his body where they’d pierced through, he hadn’t bothered to remove them and so his body healed around them.

He now stood leaning against the wall in silence, his breathing slow but jumpy.

“Stross?” Fenora began as she placed a hand on his shoulder “Are you alright?”

After a short moment, the answer came in a shallow whisper. “I’m a monster.”

“What?” Fenora said in confusion “no you’re not, you saved us; you’re a hero.”

“Fenora,” he turned to face her, tears running down his face as they had since he’d finished off the last of the bandits “heroes don’t lose their heads and kill people.”

Fenora was slightly taken aback by this. “They do if they have no other choice.” she countered “You know what they would have done to us if you hadn’t come when you did. They deserved what they got.”

“Who are you to say that?” Stross shouted, now fully facing her “Do you know what it’s like to be syphoned; to have every last drop of life and feeling ripped away from you? I don’t care if they were bad people; no one deserves to die like that!

“That’s why everypony hates changelings, because that’s all they know us for. That’s why I hate Chrysalis and her hive, because they feed exclusively through syphoning instead of earning the life that they take. And what’s worse, they actually enjoy it!

“I’ve spent my entire life trying to be better than that. Don’t you understand?” he sobbed “I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I completely lost it… I-

“You saved us all.” Fenora interrupted, pulling Stross into a hug “You saved me, even when you lost control you didn’t even try to hurt me. Don’t you see?” she wiped the tears off Stross’s face “Even at your worst, you’re still better than those other changelings you hate so much. Deep down, you’re not a monster.”

“And if I hadn’t gotten a hold of myself, if I had attacked you?”

“It wouldn’t have been your fault.” she soothed “I’d have cut you down in an instant, but it wouldn’t have been your fault.”

Somehow, Stross couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Come on,” Fenora said as they pulled away from each other “let’s get that dragonstone.”

Spiders, Traps, and Zombies... Oh my!

Fenora and Stross descended deeper into the barrow, the stone archways covered in spiderwebs. Fenora slashed through them with a sword, one of many weapons she had “Acquired” from the bandit’s corpses. Meanwhile, Stross was busy pulling out the arrows that were still stuck in him. It hurt quite a bit, but with all the energy he was running on, they healed almost intantly.

Once they got deeper in, Fenora spotted a small wooden chest. Seeing as how no one would be down here for a very long time, she decided they might as well take whatever was inside. Unfortunately, it was locked.

“Oh, damn it.” she swore “Stupid lock.”

“Hmm,” Stross thought aloud “maybe I could try and pick the lock to get it open, do you have any small pieces of metal I co-

He was interrupted by a shout as Fenora brought the sword down on the lid, smashing through the rotten wood. She flashed a grin his way as she retrieved the contents of the chest.

“Or just… do that.” Stross sputtered.

As they came to the end of the tunnel, they heard someone shouting for help. At the far end of the room, they saw a bandit cocooned in the doorway.

“Is someone there? Is that you Harknir, Bjorn, Soling? Anyone, everyone, I know I ran ahead with the claw, but I need help, please.” he called out.

“That must be the bandit the others were talking about.” Fenora pointed out “The one who took the claw."

“Yes! The claw!” he exclaimed as they approached “I know how it all works; the claw, the symbols in the hall of stories, all of it! Cut me down and I’ll share the treasure with you.” he bargained “Just hurry before- oh no, here it comes again.”

When they turned to see what he was talking about, they were greeted by an enormous spider dropping down from the open sky-light. It hissed and snarled as it walked towards them, its legs making a horrid popping noise with each and every step.

Fenora reached for one of her many blades, but before she could draw it, Stross blasted the spider with a jet of white flame, Screaming like a lady until the spider was nothing but ash.

Breathing heavily he looked over his work. “Is it dead yet?”

“Yes Stross, I think you got it.” Fenora said blankly.

“You can never be too sure. I hate those things no matter what size they come in.” he shivered “All those freaking legs.”

“How does that even work?” Fenora asked “Aren’t you some kind of bug too?”

“Racist.”

“Umm, if you two are done. Could you help me already?” Arvel yelled from behind, offended that they had forgotten him.

Once they had freed him from his cocoon, the dunmer thief proceeded to tell them all he’d learned about the claw and how it fit together with the word wall, and how it was needed to access the inner sanctum of the barrow. All of this at knife-point of course, trying to run immediately after being saved is hardly a way to show gratitude after all.

And so the three of them continued on through the catacombs, with Arvel leading the way at Fenora’s insistence. It was as they reached the first burial chamber that Stross paused. Everything was silent save for the sound of running water deeper in the cave, but something alerted his senses; he called for the others to stop.

“What’s up?” Fenora asked.

“It’s something about these tombs,” Stross told them “There’s… life in them, I can feel it.”

“Life, you mean something is actually living down here; is it more bandits?”

“No way!” Arvel cut in “Even we’re not crazy enough to live down here with all the dead things.”

“It’s really strange, it feels so cold and empty compared to any other life I’ve sensed.” Stross said as he walked over to one of the burial crevices “It feels like it’s coming from these corpses, but that can’t be righ-

Suddenly, the corpse grabbed Stross, latching onto his face with its decomposing fingers.

“Braaaains. Umm, I mean… Aav dilon.” it said as it grabbed him with its other arm as well.

For the second time that day, Stross screamed like a lady, as he tried to pry the Drauger off of him. “No zombie! That is a no-no!”

Fortunately, Fenora was quick to assist him, pulling the drauger off and before hacking at it several more times until the blue light dispersed from its decomposing eyes.

“Thank you!” Stross gasped as he got to his feet “Freaking zombies, am I right?”

“I know, can’t live with them, and they can’t live.” Fenora said as she retrieved her axe “’Cause they’re dead.”

They both shared a good laugh over this, before Arvel got their attention.

“Umm guys, I don’t know which famous and incredibly talented person you’re ripping off right now, but HELP ME!” he shouted as two more drauger closed in on him.

The next few rooms turned out to be more catacombs, some of them lined with pressure plates, swinging axes, and other traps that were a pain in the flank to get past. And to make things worse, they were also filled with drauger.

“Hey, I think I’m recognizing a pattern here.” Stross said as he lit another patch of oil alight, incinerating another walking corpse “Only the ones wearing clothes get up to attack us.”

“Are you being serious?” Fenora asked as she gave a nearby drauger a sword to the face.

“Totally serious. Look,” Stoss walked over to a drauger resting in a wall “This one isn’t wearing anything, and it’s out like a light. But that one,” he pointed to another on the far side of the room “has armor and weapons.”

Deciding to humor him, Fenora pulled out her bow and fired an arrow into it. Sure enough, the drauger woke up and began to climb out of its crevice.

“Huh, that’s good to know.” Fenora said as she fired another arrow and finished it off.

After several detours around collapsed tunnels, they finally managed to make it to what Arvel referred to as the hall of stories, a large empty room with intricate carvings on the walls. The murals depicting some sort of embalming and entombing process that ended with an ascension into a light in the sky. Neither Stross or Fenora really knew what it all meant, but that didn’t really matter, as their goal was now in sight.

But before they could make their way to the door at the end of the room, Arvel ran ahead of them. “You fools.” he shouted as he placed the golden claw into the keyhole “I found the treasure, and I’m not sharing it with anyone!”

It would seem that karma has a way of catching up to you however, as the second Arvel turned the claw, he was pelted with poisoned darts from the walls encircling the doors.

“I have no problems with this.” Fenora stated blankly.

“I’m okay too, surprisingly.” Stross confirmed.

They walked up and took the claw off the traitorous thief, and pondered how they themselves would get through the door. The dragonstone was surely on the other side after all.

“It’s probably these symbols on the door.” Stross spied the animal images “We probably need to put them in the right order. If I adjust each one in by one rotation at a time and use my magic to turn the claw from a distance, then by process of elimination I can-

Once again, Fenora interrupted his ramblings. Quickly adjusting the panels to bear, moth, owl, she then turned the claw. Stross immediately grabbed his elf friend and dove away from the door, but to his surprise, no darts were fired at them. Instead, the door opened and slid into the floor, allowing them to move forward.

“What the- How did you know?” Stross asked her.

Fenora simply held up the claw, revealing the correct combination on the under-side.

“Oh… I never would have guessed but it just seems so obvious now that I know.”

“That’s great Stross, but… could you maybe, get off me now?” Fenora asked, a blush spreading across her face.

Stross only had to look at the position they were in for a split second before practically leaping off her.

“I- umm… sorry.” he stuttered as he helped her up.

Fenora gave a slight chuckle as she led the way into the caves.

The duo reached the main chamber with relative ease, though at one point, Fenora had to force Stross to stop eating all the glowing mushrooms off the cave walls, stating that “Because shrooms.” was indeed, not a valid excuse for stuffing unknown fungi into one’s mouth.

The main burial chamber was actually quite beautiful, if not also foreboding. Holes in the ceiling let daylight inside, and waterfalls rushed down the rocks surrounding a massive black wall. In front of this wall was an ornate stone coffin, and next to that, a chest.

This is naturally were they checked first, searching the chest and the nearby pedestals. To their disappointment, the dragonstone was not there. Suddenly regretting the fact that they hadn’t asked Farengar what the dragonstone even looked like, Stoss and Fenora set about searching the rest of the chamber. After finding nothing but two additional chests behind the waterfalls, they were seriously beginning to wonder what they had missed.

But before they turned around, Fenora noticed something she hadn’t before. It was quiet at first, but grew steadily louder and clearer as she approached the massive word wall in the center of the room.

“Do you hear that?” she asked as she approached it.

“Hear what?” Stross followed her.

“It sounds like voices… chanting. It’s coming from this wall.”

“I don’t know; I’m not hearing anything.” he stared at the scratches on the wall, some kind of language he had no knowledge of “Do you know what any of this says.”

“I don’t know, it’s all kind of… kind of-

Fenora seemed to pass into a trance as she stared at the wall. The scribbles carved into it were entirely foreign to her, and yet they seemed to make perfect sense. She couldn’t read it, but somehow she knew exactly what was written.

“Here lies the guardian, keeper of dragonstone and a force of unending rage and darkness.” she said in an even monotone “Force... force” she lingered on the word as the others became shrouded from view. The one word, ‘force’ seemed to glow now, staying with her, resonating with her. It was only when Stross finally spoke up that she snapped out of her trance.

“Here lies the keeper of the dragonstone? Wait, does that mean what I think it-

It seemed the universe liked to make a game of interrupting Stross, because the moment his realization was voiced, the solid metal coffin behind them was blown apart from the inside. From it stepped a heavily armored drauger, carrying a massive glowing sword.

“Oh shi-

And so a glorious battle was waged within the walls of Bleak fall barrow that day. Though spell-slinging and swordplay, they defeated the powerful undead warrior. The heroic duo’s teamwork won through the day, and they knew that without each other, they would have surely-

Oh screw this.

The truth is, they ran around the room like it was the Benny Hill show until the big zombie finally tripped and landed on its own sword. But hey, a win’s a win.

“I still can’t believe you tried to use me as a meat-shield.” Fenora steamed as she and Stross made their way down the mountain on the other side of the barrow.

“I said I was sorry.” Stross reminded her “And besides, you wouldn’t give me a sword to use. You’d picked up like ten!”

“It was eight swords and twelve axes, that are mine. And besides, you know magic.”

“Have you ever used magic? It’s exhausting.”

They argued the pros and cons of their preferred combat style until they somehow moved on to what foods taste best. Then they talked about what their homes were like, and finally forgot what they were talking about in the first place.

When they reached the outskirts of Riverwood, they were decently tired from lugging roughly five-hundred pounds of treasure with them, and decided that it would be best to rest up for a while before continuing onwards. But first they needed to give Lucan back his claw.

Making their way to the Riverwood trader, Fenora entered first. Stross lingered outside for a second however, as he felt eyes watching him. He looked around to see the townspeople staring at him, pausing in whatever they were doing as they did so. When they noticed him staring back, they quickly returned to what they were doing; a little bit hastier than before.

Stross knew those looks. They were the looks he would receive when someone suspected him of being a changeling back in Equestria. But that was impossible; here in Skyrim no one knew what a changeling was. Wasting no more time in the doorway, Stross entered the shop as well.

Inside, Fenora had just finished returning the claw to Lucan.

“There it is. Strange, it seems smaller for some reason.” Lucan said as he placed it back on the countertop, overjoyed to have it back.

“That might be because of your eye.” Fenora pointed out the large bruise on Lucan’s left eye “What happened?”

“Oh you mean this.” Lucan laughed “It was when Camilla returned with Faendal and Sven in that wheelbarrow. I made the mistake of asking about the claw before I asked about her.”

“And now you won’t forget it!” came a voice from upstairs. Lucan grumbled in response.

“None the less, I owe the two of you a debt of gratitude. I’ve got some money from the last shipment, but you’ve more than earned it.” he handed then a bag of four-hundred septims.

“You’re welcome, I’m glad we could help.” Fenora said as she accepted the money.

“If you don’t mind, could you tell me why everyone’s staring at me out there?” Stross asked.

Lucan sighed “That’s probably because of what Sven and Faendal said as soon as they woke up.” he explained “Screaming at the top of their lungs about some flaming demon from the depths of Oblivion that would rip your soul right out of your body. I’m sorry to say, but you match their description pretty well.”

“I did let those bandits have it pretty hard.” Stross looked at the ground. He just had an idea though “Do you have any blue robes for sale?”

“You both are always welcome in my shop, thanks again.” Lucan called after them as Fenora and ‘Farengar’ left his shop.

It was the first time he’d ever tried to disguise himself as any form of bipedal, but it seemed to work quite well for Stross, especially considering how he’d only seen Farengar once. But then again, he didn’t need to be that detailed with everything, just his face and hands; the robes covered the rest rather nicely.

“So… Farengar… it’s only about four ‘o’ clock. Mind if we stop for something to eat before we get back to Whiterun?”

“We really shouldn’t waste our precious time when there’s important work to be done.” ‘Farengar’ said with his signature lisp “There’s so much about dragons to ramble on about, and so many tedious and potentially dangerous errands to send you out on.” Stross said in an overly sarcastic tone.

“You do that a little too well.” Fenora laughed.

Stross mentally smiled as they entered the inn.

Inside, more than half of Riverwood had gathered around the ‘heroes table’, enraptured as they told about the battle of bleak falls. Faendal and Sven telling of the flaming scourge that slaughtered the bandits, and their daring escape; taking care to leave out the part where they fainted. Meanwhile, Fenora and Stross ate at the other side of the bar, the latter still disguised as Farengar.

Orgnar, the bartender sighed as Stross squished various fruits into a bottle with his bare hands, making quite a mess of the counter. But he could tolerate the mess, as Fenora had bought nearly two-hundred septims worth of food and drink.

“What?” she asked though a mouthful of pie as Stross eyed her “This is the first decent meal I’ve had in like two days. You’re not the only one that gets hungry."

Stross shrugged and got back to pulping his fruit, this time trying to liquefy it with magic.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Fenora said as she bit into another chicken leg “if there are other changelings like you, and you essentially feed off love or life-juice or whatever, why can’t you just feed off each other?”

Stross nearly dropped the bottle of juice he’d just made. “We can’t do that!” he said, a little louder that he intended. He took a deep breath and began again.

“Back in Equestria, there’s a story about two nobles who fell victim to a love poison. But what the story doesn’t tell, is that those ponies were actually changelings in disguise. Each intended to put the other in a trance so that they could feed off them, but neither knew the other was a changeling as well.” Stross retold the story as best he could remember “I don’t know the exact details of the exchange, but essentially, they were each under the other’s spell; unable and unwilling to break free, each feeding off the other’s energy in an endless cycle. The energy shared between them became more tainted and stagnant with each pass, until it eventually killed them.” Stross ended his story on a sad tone.

“So you see, we can’t feed off each other; energy passed between changelings acts like poison to us.” he sighed “It’s such a shame really. I haven’t met many other changelings like myself, but some I have met were starving to the point they couldn’t move… and I couldn’t help them.”

Fenora scooted closer and put her arm around him. Stross smiled back at her and found she was trying to shove a chunk of sweetroll into his mouth.

Welcome to Skyrim, slay dragons for us

The sun was hanging low on the horizon when they made it back to Whiterun, their legs incredibly tired from all the walking around. As they approached the city gates, a guard called out to them.

“Greeting court wizard.” he said to Stross “Didn’t expect to see you outside; you’re normally holed up in that study of yours.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Stross suddenly remembered the form he was in. “I should probably change back.” he told Fenora as the entered the city. Changeling glamor spells took next to nothing to maintain once they were in place, but taking the form of your employer was never a very bright idea. Wait, were they even getting paid for this?

Fenora stopped him before he could disperse his illusion however “Not just yet.” she said giving him a devious smile “What do you say we play a little prank?”

Stross wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he was inclined to follow her lead. Unless she wanted to do something dangerous at least.

Farenger was in his study up at Dragonsreach, currently glossing over a tomb brought to him by his associate in the field of dragon research. He believed it to be a copy of an older text, perhaps dating back to the first dragon war; the terminology used was all correct for that time period.

“Well?” the woman beside him asked “Are we getting anywhere with this? My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers.” she stated impatiently.

“Calm yourself.” he told her “We’re retrieving knowledge from hundreds of years ago; you can’t expect answers to just come walking in the door.”

At that moment, Fenora and Stross came walking in the door. Moving over to the table, Stross held out the dragonstone for Farengar to take. But when he reached out, he found none other than himself handing it to him.

“Wh- I- What?” he stumbled over his words, his brain attempting to make sense of what he was seeing. His duplicate just stood there smiling, before breaking out into laughter. Farengar just stood there baffled as Fenora joined in as well. Then a realization hit him.

“This is fantastic!” he exclaimed “You’re me, which means I finally have someone around who can appreciate my knowledge! You have no idea how painful it is to be surrounded by such morons all the time.”

“I resent that!” came a yell from the other room. Farengar paid no mind to it, and continued to ramble on about the possibilities.

“Umm, sorry to burst you’re bubble,” Stross stopped Farengar as he got into his speech about world domination “but I’m not actually you; this was meant to be more of a harmless prank. Sorry.” he apologized as he dropped his illusion, returning to his previous form.

“Oh” Farengar deflated “that’s unfortunate, I guess I’ll just have to wait until my army of clones is complete then. But what matters now is that you got the dragonstone.” he looked it over, his attitude quickly bouncing back.

“I’ll just need to overlay this with the other maps in order to find the ancient dragon burial sites. And decode this on the back.” he turned it over, revealing a few lines of text in the same pattern as the wall in Bleak falls barrow.

“Oh that?” Fenora spoke up “It says ‘here lie our fallen lords until power of Alduin revives.”

“Power of Alduin?” Farengar glanced at the tablet “Of course, Alduin was the leader of the dragons during the dragon wars. This marks the burial sites where his followers were buried; it was said in an old prophesy that when he returns, he’ll raise his followers and attempt to devour our world. That must be what it means!” Farengar’s mind raced as he put the pieces together.

“I must be off, give me a copy of that map when you finish it.” the woman said before quickly leaving the room.

“I’ll be sure to do that!” he called after her “As for the two of you, this is too big to be left alone.”

“So you’ll help us prove that Helgen really was destroyed by a dragon?”Fenora asked.

“Actually, that won’t be necessary anymore.”  he told them “You see, after you left, several refugees from Helgen came to Jarl Balgruuf claiming the same thing you did. Unable to refuse the plea for help from so many, he took action and tightened security across the hold; great right?”

Stross and Fenora felt their jaws hit the floor.

“So you’re telling us that all that dungeon delving we did was for nothing?” Fenora said, her eye twitching.

“Of course not! You retrieved the dragonstoe for me didn’t you?”

Before Fenora could beat the court wizard to a pulp while blaring profanities of how they could have died and how annoying she found him, Irileth came with urgent news.

“Farengar, the jarl needs us, a dragon has been spotted.”

They all quickly gathered in the war room. Jarl Balgruuf and his advisor Proventus were already there, along with a pair of guards.

“We’ve just got news that the dragon was spotted near the western watchtower.” Irileth told them “The guard who brought us this news was badly injured, and said that the tower had been destroyed when he last left.”

“Well I won’t just stand by while this menace burns my hold and slaughters my people.” Balgruuf pounded his fist on the table for emphasis “Irileth, prepare a squad, have them ready for battle.”

“My men are already at the gate as we speak.”

“Excellent, but remember, this isn’t a death or glory mission, we need to know what we’re up against.” he told her as though it were a bad habit of hers.

“You two,” he turned to Stross and Fenora, his features relaxing slightly “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you before, but we need your help more than ever now. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone, but you were at Helgen, so you have the most experience dealing with dragons.”

“Yeah, if running away from them counts.”

“Right, you heard the Jarl,” Irileth got their attention “you’re with me. Let’s move it!”

“I’d like to come along as well; I value the chance to see an actual dragon.” Farengar chimed in.

“No,” Balgruuf told him “I can’t afford to lose you out there; I need you to continue your research so we’ll know how to defend ourselves.”

“Face it Farengar, that dragon would rip you apart if it got its claws on you.” Irileth told him before he could interject “But don’t worry, I’ll be back to tell you all about it once I have that dragon stuffed and mounted on a wall.”

Farengar sighed in defeat “Well, I guess it’s back to the books. I envy your chance to see an actual dragon.” he told Fenora and Stross.

“Wait wait wait.” Stross threw his hands in the air (and waved them like he just didn’t care) “Do we really have to fight a freaking dragon? Don’t we have a say in this?”

Though it was, in truth, a very reasonable question, everyone took a moment before responding.

“You’d be doing a great service to Whiterun?” Balgruuf offered.

“A chance for glory in battle!” said Irileth.

“I still need someone to visit the twenty-two dragon burial sites across Skyrim to document which ones are sealed and which ones aren’t.” Farengar told them.

…

“Come on Stross, we’ve got a dragon to fight.”

“Right behind you.”

Farengar watched as they left “One day you’ll have your army of clones.” he told himself "One day.”

At the main gate, a group of four soldiers had been assembled, though the only way you could tell them apart was by their different helmets.

“Alright men listen up; a dragon has been spotted!” Irileth called them to attention. “As soldiers of Whiterun, it’s our duty to stop it.”

Most of them muttered about how royally screwed they were, while a third pointed out that Irileth had said ‘duty’.

“Shape up men! This dragon threatens our families and homes; could you call yourselves soldiers if you did nothing to stop it? Could you call yourselves Nords?” Irileth paced before them “And think of this, the first dragon to be spotted in Skyrim since the end of the last age. We shall have the honor of slaying the beast, the triumph this day shall be ours!”

The soldiers cheered.

“What about what Jarl Balgruuf said about this ‘not being a death or glory mission’ and ‘finding out what we’re up against’?” Stross asked.

“Oh stop killing the morale.” Irileth said in an annoyed tone “Forward men, let’s kill us a dragon!”

When they spotted their destination the sun was beginning to set, sending its orange rays across the ground and illuminating the smoldering wreckage that was Whiterun’s western watchtower. The walls had been reduced to rubble, and the training area was in shambles. Even the main tower was barely standing.

Now just imagine how bad it was AFTER the dragon hit it. *rimshot*

Anyways, the group stopped at a hill, getting a spectacular view of the destruction.

“Well, I don’t see a dragon here now. But it sure looks like he’s been here.” Irileth examined the tower and skies from a distance “Alright, let’s move out. Check for survivors.”

“Hold up!” Stross stopped them “I need to run through a few things in case we run into that dragon down there.”

“Fine but make it quick.” Irileth said impatiently.

“I will.” Stross began “I’m not from around here, but if the dragons in Skyrim are anything like the ones in Equestria, we need to be smart about fighting them. Dragons are strong, breathe fire, have scales tougher than armor… and most of the time, they’ll be the biggest douche-bags you’ll ever meet. But they’re not invincible. If you have to fight a dragon, get it on the ground first; you won’t be able to do anything to it in the air. Once that’s done, don’t approach it head on, attack it from the sides and aim for the area on its torso just under its arms;” he pointed to his own armpits for reference “remember this, and we should all be fine.”

When they reached the watchtower, Irileth spotted a guard lying in the center of the wreckage. Quickly moving to him, she found he was alive.

“Ackbar, are you alright? The dragon, where did it go?”

He mumbled something illegible.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Ackbar grunted again.

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

He finally shoved her off him “You’re kneeling on my chest!” he shouted “Also it’s a trap.”

Sure enough, the dragon that had destroyed the watchtower landed on the ground with a thunderous crash. It spotted Irilith and roared in her face, covering her in saliva and chewed-up bits of steel.

“Halt!” a guard shouted as he ran up to the dragon’s maw “You’ve committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. What say you in your defense?”

The dragon squinted its eyes “What do I say?” its mouth seemed to curl into a smile at this. It’s eyes lit up as it spoke only three words “Yol…TOOR-SHUL!”

A torrent of fire was released from its gaping mouth, showering the guard in embers. As the guard screamed and frantically rolled on the ground, the dragon took to the sky and began to circle the area.

“Don’t just stand there, shoot it down!” Irileth ordered.

The soldiers drew their bows and began taking pot-shots at the dragon as it passed overhead. But between the streams of flame it shot along the ground and the sheer speed at which it flew, nearly all their shots missed, despite Irileth’s instructions to ‘make every arrow count’.

Eventually, the dragon grew tired of the air game and touched down once more.

“Okay!” Stross yelled “Remember what I told you; don’t face it head on, flank it from the sides and-

“Charge!” Irileth yelled as she drew her sword and ran headlong into battle.

“For Skyrim!”

“Fall to me dragon!”

“Never should have come here!”

“LEEEEROOOOOY JENKINS!” her guards shouted as they drew their weapons and joined her.

Stross could only watch as they completely disregarded his advice, and were pimp-slapped through the air by the dragon’s tail. (Mirmulnir used tail whip – it’s super effective)

“What are we going to do now?” Stross yelled as the dragon covered their hiding spot in another gout of flame. For the last ten minutes it had disregarded all the guards, and focused solely on them.

“I don’t know!” Fenora shouted as she fired another arrow only to have it bounce off the dragon’s scales like the last twenty. “Nothing works on this thing! How did they expect us to kill it in the first place?”

“We weren’t.” Stross reminded her “This was supposed to be recon, not search and destroy.”

Time seemed to slow as Stross thought hard about how to get out of their predicament.

“We can’t run; that dragon is way too fast. That also means I won’t be able to match it in the air, at least not with these wings.

“Teleporting away might work, but the fact that teleporting brought me all the way here last time- nope, not doing it.

“If we could ground it somehow we could get away or even kill the thing, but then there’s its fire breath. Unless some buckets of water magically appear we’ve got nothing we can use to stop it from cooking us alive.

“I doubt any magic I have will help us. I don’t have any combat magic beyond that fire spell, and dragons are fireproof!

“Grounding it and running is definitely the best option. But how?”

Then Stross saw the tower, and had an idea.

“Fen! I need a sword.”

“Here, take this one.” she tossed him an iron longsword. He caught it and collapsed under its weight.

“I can’t lift this!”

“Grow stronger!” Fenora encouraged.

“Don’t you have anything smaller?” he gave back the sword.

“I’ve got a pair of daggers, here.”

“Perfect, can you cover me while I run for that tower?” he pointed.

“No I can’t ‘cover you’. I can’t even hit the damn thing!”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear before I did this!” he shouted as he leapt from the shelter of the rock and dashed towards the ground entrance of the tower.

The dragon spotted him immediately and gave chase, diving straight for him with a stream of fire. Turning on his heel, Stross focused his magic and threw a small glowing orb. It stuck to the dragon’s left eye and promptly exploded into a blinding flash. Its vision suddenly obscured, the dragon veered off course and plowed into the ground, angrily pulling itself into the air again as Stross made it inside the tower.

Rapidly ascending the stairs, Stross made his way to the top of the tower. The dragon rose up to greet him as he peered over the edge. Stross jumped back, narrowly avoiding its fire-breath. Flying above him as Stross got to his feet, the dragon swooped down on him, talons raking across the stone as it did so. The changeling in its clutches, it flew higher into the air.

But then the dragon made the mistake of throwing him. Stross saw his chance, drawing his daggers he stabilized himself before rushing back towards the dragon at full speed. He was once again encased in a burning halo as he dove towards the dragon, slamming into it from above.

The dragon barely registered the impact, but that didn’t matter, because Stross’s targets all along were the dragon’s wings. Stabbing the daggers into the leathery membranes, he dragged the blades all the way through until the length of the wings had been slashed. Thrown off by the dragon’s flailing, he hovered there as he watched the beast fall to the earth dozens of feet below, breathing a spiral of fire the whole way.

Back on the ground, Fenora had just watched the most amazing thing she’d seen all day. Stross, that fiery little bug she’d met just that morning, had just brought down a freaking dragon. But after the dragon fell to the earth, it got back up again, more enraged than ever due to the loss of its wing.

As it indiscriminately breathed fire on everything around, Fenora saw her chance and drew the greatsword she had “acquired” from Bleak falls.

“This ends here!” she yelled as she charged at the dragon’s side.

They say that gravity and momentum are great allies when they’re on your side. Fenora learned this to be true today as she plunged the entire length of the sword into the dragon’s chest and out the other side.

The dragon howled in pain and flailed on the ground as the enchantment on the sword froze its insides while the blade cut through its flesh. Despite this movement Fenora kept her balance, working the blade back and forth and continually re-angling the blade for deeper wounds through the one hole in the steel-like scales.

Craning its neck to face the accursed mortal, the dragon attempted to incinerate her. Stross saw this, rejoining the battle he slammed down on the dragon’s head, hard, pinning it to the ground. In anger it shot off streams of flame anyway as Fenora pulled the sword from its side.

Joining Stross atop the beast’s head, Fenora took the sword into a reverse-grip. Stross grabbed onto the pommel and poured his magic into the blade, turning it white-hot. Then together, they drove the blade of freezing, molten steel into the dragon’s skull. Finally, the flying death machine lay dead; the heroes perched victoriously atop its corpse.

The two breathed heavily as they looked to each other.

“Nice job.” Fenora said, thinking of nothing better to say.

“You too, that got intense there.” Stross responded out of words himself.

Then they broke out laughing, leaning on each other for support as their lungs burned. But they didn’t care. They had just taken down an entire dragon practically by themselves. To both of them, it was nothing short of incredible. They got so caught up in the moment that neither of them noticed the dragon slowly releasing light like embers from a fire until it became a whirlwind around them. A form rose from the light, spreading its ethereal wings, and Mirmulnir’s soul floated there before them, its body like the night sky illuminated by the morning sun.

“Dovahkiin… impossible.” It spoke before dispersing into a shining, golden mist that rushed towards Fenora, absorbing into her being.

For several moments they just stood there, Irileth and the soldiers from before had emerged, limping from their hiding places to witness the events.

“Fenora?” Stross asked “Are you sure you’re not part changeling?”

Off on a quest-ish

*bump*

*bump**bump*

*crack*

*shatter*

Okay, Erised here. Now that I’ve properly broken through the fourth wall I can finally do this.

Ahem *In a dramatic announcer voice*

Last time, on “A changelings’ visit to Skyrim” Stross was in Equestria being pursued by the authorities when he tried to use his magic for a speedy getaway. Unfortunately for him, he bumped into Twilight Sparkle, causing his spell to overload and send him all the way across space and time into Skyrim, on the planet Nirn.

Here he was discovered alongside a band of Stormcloak rebels and was soon thrown into prison along with them by the Imperial legion; soon he’d be delivered to his execution with the rest of them. On the way, he met the legendary Dragonborn, Fenora Tandis… who was also about to be executed because no one knew who she was at the time, including herself. It looked like the end for them both, but as luck would have it, they managed to escape… while an entire town of innocent people was curb-stomped by a dragon.

Hey, I didn’t say it was a win for everyone.

Anyway, after “finding” some new clothes and gear, they were joined by an Imperial named Hadvar and a Stormcloak named Ralof who had escaped the destruction and momentarily set aside their differences to make sure their home of Riverwood wasn’t being nomed on like Helgen. Together they traveled to the small village to find that it was perfectly okay.

Seeing no reason to hold aside their differences any longer, Hadvar and Ralof began beating the living crap out of each other, much to the enjoyment of everyone. That is except for Stross and Fenora, who decided to get out of dodge.

On the way to Whiterun, Stross realized he desperately needed to feed, or else risk starving to death. But Stross could only receive nourishment from love, and despite Fenoras’ eagerness to help, he wouldn’t actually feed off her due to the nasty side effects like death and such. Though this didn’t stop him from being a complete tease for a moment.

But before the two could get into anything that would warrant a “sex tag” or “mature rating”, they were interrupted by none other than captain cock-blocker himself, M’aiq the liar. Following the cryptic advice of the mysterious khajiit, Stross ultimately decided (for whatever reason) that it would be better to build a lasting friendship with Fenora rather than not die of hunger.

After digressing through Whiterun a bit, they made it to Dragonsreach for a meeting with the Jarl to tell him of the threat of dragons killing his people. Upon hearing this, everyone took it like a big joke and they were laughed out of the room. Fortunately, the resident dragon fanboy court wizard was willing to hear them out.

And so they were sent on a task by Farengar to backtrack to Bleak falls barrow and retrieve a relic called the Dragonstone for him. When they got there, Stross let his stomach get the better of him and subsequently ended the lives of an entire group of bandits.

Stross threw a little hissy-fit over it, but Fenora told him that they were just bandits and no one cares what happens to them.

So after fighting their way through tombs filled with *deep inhale* spiders, traps, puzzles that were loaded with traps, zombies, mushrooms, and one really shouty zombie with a gigantic sword of enchanted steel, they finally found the stupid chunk of rock the nerd was looking for. But on the bright side, they also found a large amount of treasure, which they would later sell to some cat merchants in exchange for drugs.

When they returned to Dragonsreach they learned that another dragon had attacked, and if Whiterun’s western watchtower wasn’t a pile of smoldering rubble before, it certainly was now.

Wasting no time with primitive ideas like planning, preparation, or logical reasoning, the Jarl sent Stross, Fenora, and a team of ill-equipped guards to deal with the problem.

A true leader of the people right there. *cough* sarcasm *cough*

The guardsmen, following in the same mindset of their Jarl, threw caution to the wind and rushed towards the beast as soon as they saw it. Fortunately, Stross and Fenora employed the ingenious tactic known as “cover-based-shooting” as well as some general badassery, and managed to defeat the dragon before it could kill anyone that natural selection wouldn’t have taken care of anyway.

It was then that Fenora absorbed the dragon's soul, earning her the title of Dragonborn, and she wore it proudly for the world to know.

And know the world did, including the Greybeards atop the throat of the world, who gave them a call on the way back to Whiterun.  They told them to come visit them about dragons, destiny, way of the voice yadda yadda.

Or at least, that’s what they would have said if they had a decent cell service. In reality they only got a single word out, “Dovahkiin”. Presumably part of the sentence, "Dovahkiin, get up here and bring some pizza with you, our food shipment hasn't arrived and we've been forced to eat our own shoes".

So after they returned to dragonsreach and received some convenient exposition from the Jarl, our newly fledged hero Fenora and her world-hopping companion Stross made to set off on their journey. Knowing it’s up to them to save the world from being destroyed by the dragon-lord Alduin.

Let’s see what they’re up to now.

“I don’t want to save the world right now!” Fenora whined “I just want to go back home and fall asleep in my bed.”

“Then what was all that before about ‘I’ll never let innocent lives be lost while I could prevent it’?” Stross turned into her for a few second to mimic her words.

“There’s a pretty huge difference between giving everyone a heads-up, and doing all the work yourself.” she explained.

“And what about the Greybeards?” he asked as they walked away from the Jarl’s palace “They seem pretty important, it’s not like we can just ignore them forever.”

“This is true my thane, tis a great honor to be chosen for such a noble cause.” Lydia told her. She was now part of their group, as apparently slaying a dragon in Skyrim makes you a hero in the hold you slayed it in, gets you a free weapon, respect from the people, and a bodyguard/eye-candy/person who can carry heavy things for you.

“I don’t care about any of that!” Fenora snapped at them “You know why? Because I woke up yesterday, and thought how great it would be to finally get back home to High Rock. But I was stupid enough to take a shot-cut through Skyrim! Since then I’ve be thrown in jail, almost executed, attacked by bandits, attacked by the undead, roped into killing a dragon! And now I’ve been told that I’ve barely even gotten started!”

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down;” a guard cautiously interrupted her rant “people are getting nervous.”

“They should be nervous!” Fenora yelled at him “Because I am pissed off!”

“Whoa, okay there Fen.” Stross intervened “Let’s just take it easy.” he said as gently as he could, putting his hands on her shoulders and pulling her away.

“Stross, you’ve been with me through all of this, and just having you there made it that much more bearable. But you have to see how ridiculous this is. I’ve just learned I’m dragonborn or whatever and suddenly I have the fate of the world thrown onto me.”

“I know, and I’ll stay with you through this as long as you want me to. But it’s no use getting angry about this. Let’s just take some time to relax right now; we can figure this all out tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine,” Fenora relented “let's hope the inn here serves alcoholic drinks.”

“Oh they do,” Lydia told them “finest meads in all of Whiterun, and it’s open all night.”

This brought a smile back to Fenora’s face, tired though she was. With that, the three set off for the Bannered Mare, the final rays of sun fading from the sky.

Word gets around quickly it would seem, as they reached the market district they found the people of Whiterun were throwing a party for their saviors. A good number of guards had showed up, as well as some families from the farms outside the city. Fenora would have objected, but the drinks were free, so she couldn’t really argue. Through the next few hours Lydia stayed by her side at the bar at the inn, more than once having to keep back the tide of new fans.

Stross however, didn’t mind the attention at all. The people around badgered him for attention, and for him to tell them all about the battle. They sat at the edge of their seats as he told them all about it; the waves of admiration they sent his way were overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but skim a little bit, though he had to make sure he didn’t take more than the tiniest amount, lest he cause any serious harm.

Some familiar faces were there as well, such as Ysolda, who was talking to Arcadia about a shipment of sleeping tree sap. Several members of the Companions had joined as well, congratulating the two on their victory, as well as lamenting how they wished they could have been there too. Their hopes were rekindled when Fenora told them about the dozens of other dragons that were likely still out there, and Eorlund, their blacksmith offered to make weapons for them to use; ones more suited to felling oversized monstrosities.

The party continued on for quite some time before the people started to stumble home.

Hulda gave the heroes a room for the night, and they headed up to the loft; it looked quite comfortable. There were a few small end tables with books and jugs of water on them, and several ornaments on the walls. But strangely, there was only one bed.

“Well, that lady has a sense of humor on her.”

“Should we get another room?” Fenora asked.

“Well, it shouldn’t be a problem for me;" Stross told her “changelings don’t sleep, we just hibernate for a couple hours every few months. So unless you and Lydia want to… you know… snuggle up together.” he said seductively with a big stupid grin.

Fenora’s face turned incredibly red.

“Actually, I’m not all that tired.” Lydia chimed in “So I’ll just watch her while she sleeps.” she joined in on the joke.

“I’m too tired to care anymore.” Fenora said, flopping down face first into her pillow while Stross and Lydia shared a laugh. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alright, I’m going to wander around a bit.” Stross said before leaving the room.

Lydia took a seat on the other side of the room and grabbed a book. And before you ask, yes, it was that book. Those of you who’ve played the game know the one I’m talking about.

Fenora awoke the next morning feeling well rested, her mind sharp and focused and her body recharged. She got out of bed and stretched her limbs, as she did, several metal objects clattered to the floor. In hindsight she should have taken off her weapons before going to sleep, but she didn’t care that much, because she was ready to face whatever challenge the day presented her with. Walking out of the inn, she found that the same could not be said for the rest of Whiterun.

The streets were much more desolate than they normally were. Most of the city was still in bed today, sleeping off a massive hangover from last night. As the elf looked out into the streets, she spotted a black blur fly by and signaled for him to stop.

“Oh hey! You’re finally up.” Stross greeted her “I’m just doing house-calls for Arcadia, getting this medication to her customers.” he gestured to the crate he was carrying. “So how are you?”

“I feel great actually.” Fenora said “When you’re done with those deliveries we can head to Ivarstead; it’s the easiest way to reach the Greybeards apparently. By the way, have you seen Lydia; she wasn’t in the room when I woke up.”

“Oh, she’s helping with my rounds.”

As he said that, Lydia caught up to him, panting slightly.

“Okay, I got the last of the bottles to the Companions. I also picked up a few more tasks to complete.” she handed him a small list.

“Wait… tasks?” Fenora questioned.

Stross quickly became nervous, and started to fidget with his hands. “Oh, yeah. Apparently everyone in town has some problem or another, and I… sort of… offered to help them?” he explained slowly as he avoided eye contact.

“Give me the list.” Fenora stated blankly.

“Wh- what?”

“Give me. The list.”

He reluctantly complied, handing her the sheets of paper with well over two dozen items between them. Fenora quietly skimmed down the list, her expression unchanging until she calmly folded it up and placed it in her pocket.

“It’s good that none of these are urgent, because we won’t be getting any of them done anytime soon.” Fenora said as she walked towards the entrance of town “We’ve got way bigger problems ahead than a stolen family sword, or an annoying bard. Meet me at the gate when you’re done, we leave for Ivarstead no later than noon.”

“As you wish my thane.”

“Aye-aye captain bossy-pants.” Stross said cheerfully, giving a salute.

The trio made their way past the farms at the edge of town, Stross still rubbing his cheek where Fenora had slapped him.

Not long after they crossed the river, they came across a large stone tower with a bridge that spanned the river further down. The map identified it as Valtheim Towers. If they kept following the path around the mountain, it would eventually lead them right to Ivarstead.

However, their progress was impeded by a lone figure in their path. He wore gleaming black armor bearing no insignia of allegiance. Around him lay the bodies of multiple foes, bandits and wildlife made up the bulk of the carnage, yet some appeared to be travelers or merchants. They weren’t sure if he was another bandit, a mercenary, or maybe something different altogether.

“Did you do all this?” Fenora asked him as the group approached.

He didn’t answer.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Did you kill these people?”

He remained silent. Having given up on the armored statue of a man, Fenora motioned back to the others to move forward, but she was suddenly stopped by the very same knight.

“None shall pass.” he stated through his helmet.

“What?” Fenora asked.

“None shall pass.” the armored man repeated.

“I’m the dragonborn… for some reason. I’m on a quest to save Tamriel.” Fenora explained.

“I move… for no man.”

Fenora glared at him for calling her a guy. “Stand aside, we must get though here.” Fenora told him.

“Then, you shall die.”

The bandit then drew his sword and took several haphazardly swings at Fenora, who dodged out of the way easily. Stross and Lydia readied their own weapons and spells, but it seemed Fenora didn’t require help. Drawing one of her swords, she parried another strike and cleanly severed on of the man’s arms.

“Victory is mine, now stand aside.” she said to him.

“Tis but a scratch!” he answered defiantly.

“Your arm’s off!”

“I’ve had worse.” he took another swing at her.

This continued for several more minutes until Fenora had relieved the foolish man of the rest of his limbs, yet he still believed he could win, even going so far as to call her a pansy for not wishing to continue.

“Fine, we’ll call it a draw.” she said before sheathing her sword and continuing on, Lydia following her.

Stross lingered for a second, seeming to take pity on the black-armored idiot even as he yelled profanities after his friends. Grabbing one of his severed limbs, he dragged it over and magically fused the flesh and bone, reattaching the arm to its stump.

“Oy! I don’t need help from the likes of you!” the man screamed “The black knight always triumphs! Let me at her, I’ll chew her legs off!”

“You make me sad.” Stross told him flatly before putting a small health potion in front of him and walking away.

“He definitely had it coming… but don’t you think you went a little far, my thane?” Lydia asked as the three of them walked up a series of switch-backs.

“Not even a little.” Fenora replied coldly “Bandits, raiders, slavers… I hate them all. Anyone who would destroy innocent lives deserves to be punished.” she let out a sigh, realizing the path her mind wandered down “I’m sorry, but it’s all kind of personal for me.”

“How so? If you don’t mind me asking.” Stross tried to coax the details from her.

“It was years ago, I was barely more than a child.” Fenora remembered back “A band of raiders attacked the town where I lived. When I saw them coming… I didn’t think about anyone else. My family, my friends… I was so scared I just ran away as fast as I could. I didn't even warn them.” tears welled up in her eyes “I didn’t stay to help them and they all died.”

Stross put an arm around her and pulled her closer as she wiped the tears away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was so painful for you.”

“That’s alright, I’ve come to terms with it more or less. It still hurts to think about, but all I can do to make up for my mistakes is to do better in the future. Right?”

“Trying to be better? That's been my plan for life.” Stross said as he nuzzled her neck.

Lydia giggled as she walked beside them “You two are so cute together.”

You're gonna need a montage

Later down the road, our heroes finally reached the small village Ivarstead. Though calling it a village was being generous, for it looked to be no more than a group of houses, an inn, and a saw mill.

As the group entered town, they saw two men talking on the stone bridge leading to a path up the mountain. They were talking about the Greybeard’s food supplies, the climb of the seven-thousand steps to High Hrothgar, and how the path was too dangerous in order to make the journey. But being ever helpful, Stross, Fenora, and Lydia offered to make the delivery on their way up.

Well… when I say offered, I really mean being thrown the bag of food and sent on their merry way before they could retort.

But luckily the path up the mountain was quite peaceful, they even met a couple of other pilgrims/illegal poachers on the way up; meditating on the stone tablets that dotted the path. Our group of heroes also took the time to read these tablets as they continued on their way.

The complete story they told goes as such (though I might be paraphrasing)… *clears throat*

-In the beginning Akotosh created dragons and the dragons took over the world by shouting at things.

But Kynareth didn’t like all her little humans getting shouted at, so she gave them the power to yell at stuff too, and with the help of Paarthunax they told Alduin and his chums to GTFO.

Driven to greed with their new power they proceeded to take over the world themselves (geez, it’s Animal Farm all over again).

The most powerful among the mortals of The Voice was Jurgen Windcaller, but when he and his army got their butts handed to them at the battle of Red Mountain he went through an existential crisis for like seven freaking years.

What he learned from all the thinking he did was that “The Voice is worship; follow the Inner path, and speak only in true need.”

Basically, don’t abuse your power, ‘cause that’s not cool, bro-

…

Anyway, like I was saying. There was basically no danger on the path up to High Hrothgar. Until they ran into a big, furry tri-clops that kept singing a song as it beat our heroes into the snow-covered ground.

Which song, you ask? This one.

So after spending a few hours dealing with the frost troll, (because let’s face it, they’re all severely under-leveled right now) they made it to the monastery. And hey, now we can get some actual dialogue in this chapter, YAAAAAYYY.

Stross, Fenora and Lydia dragged themselves up to the doors of High Hrothgar after barely surviving the climb.

“Here my thane, I saved the last of my health potions for you.” Lydia said as she passed Fenora the jar of pink liquid.

“Thanks Lydia, I owe you one.” Fenora took the bottle and rubbed its contents on her wounds.

“That thing was a brute!” Stross exclaimed as he looked over the new cracks in his shell from where the troll had punched him “I thought you said they were weak against fire.”

“They normally are.” Fenora told him “Maybe it didn’t work because it’s so cold up here.”

Whatever the reason, they had all taken quite a beating, and were glad that they had finally reached their destination. Walking up to the imposing metal doors of the monastery, they soon found another obstacle in their path; the doors were locked.

“Oh great, how do we get in?”Stross asked as he looked around for another entrance.

“We probably need to let them know we’ve arrived;” Fenora guessed “use the knockers.”

Stross did as he was told.

Fenora slapped him. “The ones on the doors you idiot!”

“I couldn’t resist.”

Once inside the stone halls, they were greeted by four monks in stylin’ black robes.

“Greeting travelers, I am master Arngeir.” one stepped forward and introduced himself “I assume that one among you is the dragonborn.”

“That would be me.” Fenora answered.

“I sensed as such, it is an honor to meet you. You must have many questions, but first we must test your thu’um to prove that you truly possess the gift.” he explained.

“Thu’um? You mean shout fire like those dragons do?”

“Yes, among other things. A thu’um is the outward projection of one’s inner power. Being dragonborn, you have the ability to use this power without the training that all others require. Simply focus on the shout, and release it.” Arngeir told them, his voice in a loud whisper “Now dragonborn, give us a taste of your power; as masters of the voice, we can withstand it.”

Fenora focused hard, her thoughts moving back to the word wall in Bleak falls. Doing her best to push away all other stray thought and focus on that one word, she took a deep inhale.

“FUS…” the first word came, followed quickly by two others “RO DAH!”

Fenora didn’t know why she said the other two words, but as soon as she said the first, her mind just sort of knew that something was missing and filled in the blanks. Looking up, she was shocked to see each of the Greybeards as well as her own companions laying on the floor.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry.” she apologized as she helped them to their feet “Wait, I thought you said my shout wouldn’t affect you.”

“The shout, yes, but not all of these urns and flowerpots lying around.” Arngeir clarified, gesturing to the pieces of furniture that had been sent flying in all directions by Fenora’s thu’um “Your voice is powerful dragonborn, and your knowledge is impressive, but perhaps we should take the rest of the training outside.”

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

They entered into an open courtyard filled with a variety of training areas for practicing thu’ums. Next to it were areas for meditation and study.

“Here we are. This is where we practice and hone our shouts.” Arngeir led them to an area with a mechanical gate at one end

“You’ve demonstrated your thu’um well dragonborn. Now we will see how well you learn a brand new shout.”

“How do I ‘learn’ a shout? The last one I got from a wall in a tomb.” Fenora told him “I don’t have to go delving into more do I?”

The Greybeards all shared a chuckle at this.

“Oh of course not, we’ve got them all written down for study.” Arngeir handed Fenora a book of the dragon language “You’re the first dragonborn to be revealed in centuries, but hardly the only person to come here to learn of the voice. Like the others before you, we wouldn’t make you risk your lives simply to hone your power. That would be ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous, and tedious.” Another of the Greybeards added, the ground shaking slightly in response to his voice.

Our heroes breathed a collective sigh of relief at this fortunate news.

“Still, don’t believe that it will be easy to master the voice. You’ll need to learn the meaning of each shout, and feel it resonate and explode within yourself to even begin to learn it. Once you have felt the word within you, then you can begin to focus it, and let it burst forth from your inner being as a thu’um.” Arngeir explained the process. “With practice, you’ll gain experience, and your shouts will become more powerful. Of course, as a dragonborn, you’ll also be able to absorb the essence of dragons you defeat, adding their own experience to yours.”

“Umm…” Stross raised his hand.

“Yes? You have a question.”

“Bow chicka wow-wow?”

“Indeed.” Arngeir said with a smile “Let’s begin shall we?”

The first new shout Fenora was taught was the ‘whirlwind sprint’. After a few minutes of studying the shout, she was ready to give it a try.

“Right then, Master Borri will demonstrate how it’s done.” Arngeir said as Borri stepped up to the posts, aiming for the cooler full of nord mead on the other side of the gate.

The gate opened, he timer clicking down the second before it closed. Borri summoned the thu’um, the words “WULD NAH KEST” leaving his mouth as he traveled past the gate at a speed that would make even Rainbow Dash jealous. Stross watched with amazement. He’d seen the effects of these dragon shouts before, but this shout seemed to be a different concept entirely.

“So instead of sending the shout in a directional area of effect, this one takes the user and propels them forward.”

“How many different shouts are there?” he asked.

“There are many; some we have written here, but the true number are beyond counting. For ordinary people it would take years of intense training to master the use of even one.” Arngeir said as he handed Stross a copy of the book “However, I sense there is something different about you.” he said as he saw the disappointment in Stross’s eyes “You may have a larger role to play in things to come then most would realize.”

Fenora tried and failed to use the whirlwind sprint. Several more attempts yielded the same results before one of the Greybeards handed her a sealed package.

“What’s this?” she asked as she looked through the contents. Inside was a coarsely ground herb of some kind.

“It is a special reagent we use when meditating on words of power, dragonborn.” Arngeir explained “It helps to clear the mind, but unfortunately, it isn’t cheap.”

Behind him, a woman in purple robes and a wizard’s cap threateningly clapped her hand with a crowbar.

“D- don’t worry now, Matoya.” Arngeir stuttered “I’ll pay you by the end of the week, I promise.”

“Oh you’d better, or your ass is mine.” Matoya said before leaving.

And so, for the rest of the day Fenora practiced new shouts, some were more difficult than others, but she was getting better.

Youtube Video

Insert whatever wacky hijinks you want into this part, I couldn’t think of anything good. Sorry.

As the day slowly crept below the horizon once more and night fell across the land, Fenora and the others headed back inside the monastery. Stross went to return the book to Arngeir, but he allowed him to keep it, asking only that Stross keep it from falling into the wrong hands.

“Thank you for the training masters, but I’ve gotten distracted. Back to the main reason we came here, a dragon named Alduin has returned, the people say I’m a dragonborn from some old legend, and I need to know what it means. Is it really a sign of the end like everyone is saying?” Fenora asked them.

“Yes, Alduin has returned to destroy the world of men. That is why you are here dragonborn, and why you must retrieve the horn of Jurgan Windcaller from its resting place in Ustengrav. With it you will be able to focus your power and defeat Alduin as it was prophesized.” Arngeir explained.

“Prophesized? You mean someone actually knew that this would happen?” Stross asked “How does someone just know something this crazy is going to happen?”

“Umm… magic maybe?” Lydia suggested.

“It was the leader of our order that foresaw it.” Arngeir told them “You may know the tale of how Alduin was first defeated and thrown from our world during the end of the dragon war. But that banishment was not permanent, for only three days ago he returned to our world, swooping down from the peak of the Throat of the world just as we all knew he would one day. But all is not lost, the fact that you are here dragonborn, proves that the prophesy was correct. You are the one who is to defeat Alduin and-

“Wait, what?” Fenora cut in.

“Yes, it is prophesized that when the world-eater returns, the dragonborn shall rise up to defeat him. While much of the world has let it pass into folklore, we’ve known of the truth for quite some time.”

“Not that part… before that.” Fenora’s eyes narrowed in anger “You’re telling me that you knew Alduin would return and yet you did nothing to prepare except sit around and wait for me to show up? You didn’t even try to stop him when you had the chance, with your power you could have at least done something! You knew he had returned for three whole days and DIDN’T EVEN TELL ANYONE!”

“It is not that simple, you must understand that we must remain passive, and not interfere with the ways of the world, even if it is to end. It is your destiny to defeat Alduin, dragonborn. It is not our place to-

“My name is Fenora!” she yelled, her voice echoing throughout the monastery and into the night sky “And don’t tell me it’s not your place to get involved! You live in this world too; you had knowledge and power that could have saved a lot of lives and you DID NOTHING! I don’t care HOW passive you are, THAT’S IRRESPONSIBLE!” her voice let out a massive shockwave of thu’um, sending everyone around her staggering back. “Do you have any idea what we had to go through just to prove the dragons really HAD returned? How long would you have kept this knowledge from everyone? If I hadn’t come when I did, HOW MANY PEOPLE WOULD YOU HAVE LET BURN because you consider it ‘not your place to’ DO SOMETHING?”

“My thane, control yourself! Your voice with tear down the mountain!” Lydia screamed as Fenora tore the room apart with her voice.

“Fenora, let it go!” Stross intervened “We’re here now, we’ll fix it ourselves! It’s not worth getting angry over.”

“Do you honestly think that all those people who DIED at Helgen, and who knows where else aren’t worth getting angry over?” Fenora accused “Do you REALLY THINK THAT- muph!

Fenora was forced to immediately cease her (really justified if you think about it) rant when Stross pulled her into a big sloppy kiss.

She felt herself relax almost instantly as she felt Stross’s cool, smooth scales push against her lips, his tongue pressing against hers, and the rush of pasty resin being funneled into her mouth and throat, stopping her from breathing, and… wait a minute- what?

Yes indeed, it seems that Stross took calming her down a step further, and turned what would have been an awkwardly romantic moment into a spontaneous internal strangling, complete with throwing up into her mouth.

“I’m sorry about that,” Stross apologized to the Greybeards as Fenora desperately tried to get air into her lungs “Fenora has some very strong objections when it comes to innocent people dying do to inaction.” he explained.

“My thane, are you alright?” Lydia asked. Fenora shook her head no as she began to turn different shades of purple.

“But you know, she kind of has a point. You could have at least given everyone reminders that- hold on Fen, I’m telling these guys off. Now where was I?” Stross continued obliviously.

“Oh right, maybe teach other people how to shout so that you basically have an army for when- I’ll be with you two in a minute, just take some deep breaths and calm down.”

Fenora managed to face-palm before running out of air and falling unconscious.

“Stross, Fenora can’t breathe. If she can’t breathe she can’t get air. She needs air to live, and if she can’t get air she’s gonna die. Help her.” Lydia deadpanned.

“Oh…whoops.”

So after saving Fenora from accidental asphyxiation, she was still out cold, but everyone decided that it was probably better to leave her that way for a while. And with that, the three made their way back down the mountain to prepare for the next leg of their journey, Stross being forced to carry their unconscious elf as punishment for nearly killing her in the first place. He’d make it up to her somehow though, that’s what friends do right? And doing someone a solid totally makes up for almost killing them… right?

“You’re screwed when she wakes up.” Lydia pointed out the obvious.

Taking this story to eleven (chapters)

Once the three reached the bottom of the mountain, and into the warmer night air, they decided to head to the inn and rent a room for the night. Well… Stross and Lydia did anyway. Fenora was still unconscious. But before they crossed the bridge into Ivarstead, they were stopped by a man who jumped out at them from the bushes. He wore a set of ratty old clothes, and had a look in his eyes like he wasn’t all there.

“Reyda! Have you seen Narfi’s sister Reyda?” he asked them, his eyes quickly jumping all around.

“Umm… no?” Stross answered nervously while Lydia gripped the hilt of her sword, unsure about the man before them.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Narfi deflated “Reyda left a year ago, but Narfi never said goodbye like mother and father. Now mother and father are dead, killed by the bad men. But Wilhelm says Reyda will be back, Narfi just has to wait. But waiting’s so hard!” he told them before running off, screaming about his sister.

Stross and Lydia gave each other a glance of ‘What-in-Oblivion-was-that-all-about?” before continuing onward.

At the Vilemyr inn, Stross paid for a room and gently set Fenora down on one of the beds, thankfully with two of them this time. He pulled the blanket over her and brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. Sighing, he wondered how he was ever going to get her to forgive him for nearly choking her to death with his resin.

Sitting on the chair next to her bed, he thought about his life before that spell brought him here. In the past, he’d never had a romance or a friendship that wasn’t fake, one that he couldn’t just walk out on the second it hit a bump or snag. And often, that’s just what he’d do. Instead of facing the music and trying to keep the relationship afloat, he’d simply leave and start all over again with someone different. That was what many changelings did, or so he’d always believed.

But Fenora was different, she wasn’t just the first friend he’d had since coming to Tamriel, she was the first real friend he’d ever had, period. She knew what he was and kept him with her anyway. She’d trusted him to watch her back and to be there when she needed him. Even now that she’d had a massive destiny thrown onto her, she’d let him come along, saying that having him by her side made it bearable. Stross didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want to lose her.

“Lydia,” he asked “how can I fix this?”

“You mean other than letting her punch you in the face until her anger subsides?”

“Preferably.” Stross grimaced.

“Well, food and music often work to calm the soul.” Lydia suggested.

“Food and music, huh?”

The next morning, Fenora groggily got out of bed. Holding her aching head she spit out a bit of resin that remained in her mouth before looking around. The last thing she remembered was collapsing on the floor of the monastery. Before that, she was angry about something and then Stross spit some goop into her mouth and-

Stross. That bug was going to pay when she got her hands on him, but first she had to figure out where she was. Stepping out of the door, Fenora found that she was inside the local inn.

“Great, now I just need to find- Whoa!”

She was interrupted by a woman with a lute that just randomly appeared from nowhere.

“Pardon me mi’lady, but I have a message to deliver from your little bug friend… in song.” she said happily.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to choke thee

So please don’t revoke me

I truly didn’t want to offend.

I’m currently on a quest

But I got you some breakfast

and I wish to remain your friend.”

The bard sang out Stross’s message as she plucked the strings of her lute.

Fenora just sat there trying to comprehend what she just heard.

Fenora sat at one of the tables eating through another salmon steak; her fourth one that morning. Stross had put down a good amount of gold for her, which was good. Getting your face mauled off by trolls and forest creatures wherever you traveled really worked up an appetite.

“So I hear you’re the new dragonborn.” Wilhelm said as he got Fenora a refill on her drink. “First one since old Tiber Septim himself. Must be very excitin’ for ya’.”

“Yeah, well that’s one way of putting it.” Fenora told him in an annoyed tone.

“Oh? Bein’ a legendary hero not all it’s cracked up to be?” Wilhelm took on a jovial tone.

“You can say that again.”

“Bein’ a legendary hero not all it’s cracked up to be?” he smiled.

Fenora just glared at him for a moment before slamming back her ale. “It. Sucks.” she told him “In just the last few days I’ve had to fight more monsters than the rest of my life combined. Just yesterday I was beaten up by a freaking frost troll on the way up to see the Greybeards, and before we make our way back down Stross fills my throat with his sticky slime!”

“Oh, congratulations?” Wilhelm said unsurely averted his eyes “I’m glad you two are so close, but I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of thing.”

Fenora stared at him in confusion until the pieces clicked in her brain, causing her to blush furiously. “No no no. Not like that, he’s a changeling.” she frantically explained “The resin in his stomach works like a defense mechanism or something.”

“Suuure it does.”

“Ugh, where is he anyway, I want to punch him in the face for this. No amount of food or singing telegrams will make up for it.” Fenora said into her mug.

“Well, after you and your housecarl turned in for the night, he came to talk to me.”

*flashback time* *harp strum* *screen ripple* *also Wilhelm first-person*

I was standin’ behind the counter cleanin’ mugs when your bug friend Stross walked up and put a big bag of septims the counter. “What’s this for?” I asked him

“It’s for Fenora when she wakes up. Can you tell her I paid for breakfast?” he asked “She’s probably going to be really mad at me.” So I told him I’d be sure to do that. Then he just happened to ask what was wrong with Narfi, the poor fella. He said he wanted to help if he could, so I told him the story.

“Narfi and his family lived here for long time, his sister Reyda would go to the island to the east of here to gather plants.” I told him “But one day while she was gone, thieves broke into Narfi’s home and killed his parents right in front of him while he hid. I’ll never forget the day we found out.

“Tings only got worse for the kid from there. Reyda, the only family he had left hadn’t been seen for weeks. That is, until we found her body in the river downstream from Geirmund's Hall." I could barely stop myself from tearin’ up as I told Stross what happened "We could hardly believe it. Ever since then we’ve decided to keep it a secret from Narfi, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to tell him, so we told him she’d be back someday.”

Your friend got real tense when I told him, said it was wrong to lie like that. He said he’d tell Narfi for us and asked for a bone or piece of clothin’ from her, so he could prove she was really gone. Naturally I refused at first, but the little bug had quite a strong reasoning to him, so I gave him the necklace Reyda always wore.

He left after that, I still haven’t heard how it turned out.

==(Well thanks to third-person omniscience, all of us can)==

Stross walked across the cold stream to Narfi’s broken down home. Narfi was sitting outside, and jumped up as Stross approached.

“You again!” Narfi greeted “Have you seen Reyda now?”

Stross took a deep breath and looked Narfi straight in the eyes. “Narfi, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

“What is it; did Reyda say she wasn’t coming back? Did you tell her Narfi misses her?”

“She’s not coming back, but it wasn’t her choice.” Stross putted Narfi on the shoulder “She’s been dead for a long time now, Wilhelm and the others found her in the river.”

“W- wh- what? No. You’re lying, Wilhelm said she’d be back.” Narfi stuttered, denying what Stross had told him.

“Narfi, I’m sorry but it’s true.” he held out the necklace for Narfi to take “They didn’t know how to tell you the truth, so they told you she’d be back. But the truth is that she’s gone now.”

Tears welled up in Narfi’s eyes as he took his sister’s necklace into his palms. Clicking it open revealed a picture of his family together, before they were taken from him. It had been magically preserved inside its tiny frame so that it would never fade or smear.

“No…” he whispered “No no no! Narfi never got to say goodbye! Now Narfi’s all alone.” he wailed as the tears spilled down his face.

“Don’t say that!” Stross Yelled as he grabbed hold of Narfi and shook him “You’re never alone. You’ll always have them in your memories, and they’re not the only family you have. Wilhelm and the others, they lied to you because they cared about you too much to see you in pain! They’re your family too!”

Narfi sniffed as he tried to clear his eyes. “Narfi knows, but the truth still hurts. Still… better than not knowing, thank you for telling Narfi, now Narfi has to sleep.” he sobbed before going back into the wreck of his house and falling asleep on a pile of straw.

==Back in the present==

“But as I was sayin’. Not an hour had passed before he was back, askin’ about a weird glowin’ person he saw by the barrow.” Wilhelm explained “My blood froze up when I heard those words, that tomb is cursed. There’s been strange goings on in that place; just a little while back an adventurer named Wyndelius went in there and never came back out. It’s been keeping us up at night, people are afraid to even go near the place. I told him this, and he took off into the barrow despite my warnings. Your housecarl saw him leave and followed him. They haven’t been back all morning.” he finished solemnly.

Just then, the door to the Vilemyr inn was kicked inwards. What entered seemed to draw the warmth from the room and everyone in it. It even made Wilhelm scream.

The translucent form of Stross entered through the door. Slowly walking around the room, waving his arms back and forth.

“Whoooo-ooo-oo!” he made stereotypical (and possibly racist) ghost noises, drawing out his words into long quivering sounds “I’m a ghost now. You will fear the dead of- OW! OW stop hitting me in the- OW!”

Fenora had interrupted his ghostly charade and was now beating him unmercifully.

“You can’t be dead yet, I need to kill you first!” she steamed.

“OW, the side of my face! OW, my lower torso! OW, my arms and legs!” Stross named off the parts of his body as they were struck and/or chewed on. “Ack, mupth winpth phi umpth folcu korth! (OW, my wind pipe and vocal chords!)”

“My thane, stop! You’re killing him!” Lydia intervened as she entered as well “One or two more hits should suffice.”

“(Lydia I thought you were on my side!)” Stross garbled out.

“I am.” she stated “I am also sworn to carry your burdens, but this..." she let her pack fall to the floor, the room shaking as it did "is more than I signed up for. So for that, three more hits. If you wouldn’t mind, my thane.”

“With pleasure, and call me Fenora.”

“As you wish, my thane.”

“Ugh”

So after Fenora got a satisfying revenge beat-down on Stross, Lydia handed Wyndelius’s journal to Wilhelm. As the innkeeper feverously read through the contents, Stross drank down a health potion; he didn’t care if they barely had any effect on him, with amount of damage he just took, he’d need to heal quick before his other healing factor took over and drained his ‘love’ reserves.

“I can’t believe it!” Wilhelm announced as he finished reading the journal “It was all just a fabrication of that Wyndelius character. I can’t believe we were so stupid. Thank you for all your help, here take this as a reward.” he produced a metal dragon hand with sapphire claws “This must be the claw he was talking about in the journal. All the years I’ve lived here I’ve never known what it was for; you might be able to make better use of it that I can.”

“That’s it!” Stross exclaimed happily now that he could speak normally again. Well… normal for a changeling anyways. “That’s the key that opens the puzzle door in the barrow; just like the gold one at Bleak Falls!”

“Oh no!” Fenora cut him off “You remember what happened last time we went into an ancient tomb. Give me one good reason to go in there.”

“There might be treasure, a word of power the Greybeards didn’t have, and more of those ancient weapons you like.”

…

“Stross… do you know what one means?”

*Bump*

*Crash**Shatter*

Okay guys, Erised here again. I’m gonna level with you all, narrating the entire trek through the barrow is going to be really tedious and uninteresting for all of us.

So skipping that, I bring you “Just the good parts!” where we skip right to the highlights of the adventure.

Here we go! *patches up fourth wall*

The trio made it into the barrow. Finding the combination to the door “Moth-Owl-Wolf” wasn’t hard as it was printed on the claw like the last one. Reaching a room filled with sarcophagi, Stross noticed an orange spellbook sitting on a pedestal in the center.

“Well,” he thought out loud in a sarcastic tone “a single, solitary book in the middle of a room on a pedestal, surrounded by coffins no less. What could possibly go wrong if I pick it up and- Okay, let’s do this. You gals get ready and I’ll grab it.”

Fenora and Lydia readied their weapons and stood back to back, ready to face the undead warriors that would surely come bursting forth from their tombs.

Stross quickly swiped the book off its resting place and leapt over to join them, fire spells at the ready. Several seconds passed and nothing happened. Listening carefully, none of them heard a thing save for their own breathing.

“I don’t mean to jinx this, but that was kind of a letdown.” Fenora said as she sheathed her axes. “What was that book anyway.”

“Oakflesh” Stross read the cover “That’s stupid, why would anyone want flesh made of- AHHH!” A drauger fell from the ceiling onto Stross, hitting him repeatedly with a mace.

“AAHHHH! I know the answer now; for times like THIIISSSS!”

Climbing a wooden spiral staircase, they found the way deeper into the barrow. Further at the top Stross found a locked door and luckily, he had some lockpicks on him. However, every time he tried to get the lock open, the pick would break and he’d have to try again. The others told him to abandon his attempts, but he wouldn’t listen. After a few more minutes of this, Stross broke his last lockpick (man, those master doors are brutal).

“Screw this stupid door!” he yelled in frustration.

“Indeed, but when you ‘screw it’ use this.” M’aiq appeared beside him somehow, handing him an ornate looking key.

Slightly dumbfounded at the appearance of the khajiit, Stross took the key and inserted it into the slot. In a few short second the door was unlocked and the key had vanished along with M’aiq. Reveling in triumph, Stross opened the door to reval… a locked chest.

Stross felt himself sag into defeat again until Fenora jammed one of her swords under the lid and forced it open. Smiling at the addition of more loot, the three continued on their way.

After fighting through a legion of awakened dead, getting past more traps and annoying puzzles than they cared to remember, and nearly getting crushed, impaled, or incinerated even more times than that, the group finally made it to the final burial chamber. The room was huge, the floor flooded with water, a pyramid of stone steps leading to the exit. The bridge to the pyramid was lined with metal coffins, as was the pyramid itself.

“Thirteen graves,” Lydia observed “I’ve got a baaad feeling about this.”

“Ready for this?” Fenora asked as she drew her bow.

“Get behind me, my thane, I’ll protect you!” Lydia readied her sword and shield and took a defensive stance in front of them.

“You could learn a thing or two from her, Stross.” Fenora smirked as the first undead rose from their graves to attack them.

The fight actually turned out to be quite easy, the skeletons and drauger only coming at them one or two at a time. They now exited the barrow, having collected a rather large number of new weapons, a significant amount of miscellaneous loot, and Fenora receiving a better understanding of the “Kynareth’s harmony” shout from the word wall.

“Let’s see… Here lies the body of Helg, a friend to all beasts and servant of Kyne. May she find eternal rest in the forest of dreams.”

Stross copied down the inscription from the word wall onto paper and stowed it in the book of dragon shouts. “That sound about right?”

“More or less.” Fenora answered “Why are you copying that down anyway?”

“The words of power were used in those… poems, I guess? Anyway, they were used to signify a certain aspect of someone’s life. Knowing how the words fit into those lives could be important for learning the true meaning of the words themselves, like Master Arngeir said.” Stross explained.

“Wow, are you always this deep?”

“Most of the time.” Stross slowed his pace for a second “That reminds me, I need to do something before we leave.”

Narfi sat alone in his house, looking at the tiny picture of his family. He didn’t want to sleep anymore, he didn’t want to eat either. All he wanted was to be with his family again. Clenching the necklace in his hand he went outside.

Narfi walked to the cliff he’d go to as a child, where he’d sit and gaze out at the valley below. He remembered the picnics he’d have with his family, and how much he missed them. But now he’d finally be with them again. Walking towards the edge of the cliff he looked out at the setting sun, knowing it would be the last time he saw it from this world. Leaning forward, he fell to greet the jagged rocks of the river below.

But something stopped his fall, a pair of hands had grabbed his leg as he dangled over the edge of the cliff. Looking up, Narfi couldn’t believe his eyes. There before him, stopping his demise was the ghostly form of his sister, smiling back at him.

“Don’t give up on your life, brother. We’ll all meet again in time, but for now, there is still far too much to leave behind.” she told him before pulling him up to solid ground.

Quickly getting to his feet, Narfi looked everywhere for his sister’s ghost, but she had vanished. Something else drew his attention though, as shouts came his way from several of the townspeople running towards him.

“Oh thank the gods.” Wilhelm said as he arrived ahead of the others “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me? We’re not ready to lose you yet.”

“Narfi you crazy fool,” Klimmek put an arm around him “where did you get a dumb idea like that?”

“Indeed,” Bassianus chimed in “life here in Ivarstead is dull enough as it is. We don’t need you gone too.”

Narfi was taken aback by all of them coming to make sure he was alright. He thought that he had no one left that cared about him.

“Come to the inn my friend. What say we get you something to eat?” Gwilin, the abnormally cheerful elf joined in.

“Thank you… Narfi would… I would like that.” he told them, speaking in the first person for the first time in months “And I’m sorry I tried to jump.”

“That’s alright,” Wilhelm told him “Just remember from now on, we’re your family too. Don’t even try to leave us like that again.”

…

Further down the mountain on the road leading back to Whiterun, a changeling dropped his disguise and his invisibility, the Philter of the phantom finally wearing off as well.

“Are you sure that was the right thing to do?” Lydia asked “I mean, it was his choice to make, and because of this he’ll technically be living because of a lie all over again, won’t he?”

“I know all that, but come on. He was literally about to kill himself.” Stoss defended his choice “And besides, did you see all those people back there? There was no way I’d let him die.”

“I suppose that’s all true, do the ends really justify the means like that?”

“Well whatever happens, I think you did good today Stross.” Fenora gave him a pat on the back.

“Does that mean you’re not mad about the whole ‘throwing-up-in-your-mouth-and-almost-killing-you’ thing anymore?”

Fenora answered by throwing Stross one of the heavier bags of treasure to carry as they made the long walk back to Whiterun.

Stross: Skyrim Private I.

The trek back to Whiterun was long, tedious, and overall very unpleasant for our heroes. But then again, lugging around roughly twice your own weight in jewelry, gold, and ancient armor hardly ever is.

It was all worth it when they got back however, as they managed to trade it in for enough money to buy a new house/base of operations. And then get nickeled and dimed for all the furniture, because apparently being heroes on a world-saving quest doesn’t grant immunity to people trying to haggle you for all you’re worth. Fenora and Lydia had spent most of the morning doing what you might expect; that is, lying in their new beds and snoring face first into their pillows.

Not needing sleep, Stross had left earlier on in order to find something to occupy his time, like doing all the trivial side-quests that Fenora had decided to ignore. Currently, he’d just finished clearing out the bandits of Halted Stream camp with the Companions, returned Amren’s family sword to him, and finally found a mammoths tusk for Ysolda.

He had to say that all these errands were a good way to make money. That kiss Ysolda gave him was pretty nice too, though it may have been a way to distract him from the fact that she didn’t pay for the tusk. Still, Stross smiled to himself as he walked back to the front gates of Whiterun; he couldn’t help being happy when everyone was so accepting of him and grateful for his help.

“I wish I’d known about this place before. I’d have come here a LONG time ago if I had.”

As he was about to take a break, and maybe see what he could buy with his newly acquired cash (that was earned legally by the way), he noticed a scuffle between the town guards and some men in desert clothes with awesome curved swords.

“How many times have I told you? You’re not allowed in the city.” the guard scolded them “After what happened, you’re lucky I didn’t throw you in jail with your friend. It will take days to scrape all that cheese off the walls, and Irileth is still unconscious. Now get out of here.”

Stross was glad that it wasn’t him getting yelled at or chased by guards for once, he’d had more than his share of that back in Equestria. Still, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for them, especially since what got them in trouble was so similar to the prank Fenora had originally planned just a couple of days prior. He still couldn’t tell if she would have actually done it had he not reasoned her away, but back to the present, and the warriors.

“Hey, what were you two doing anyway?” Stross asked them before they left.

“We were looking for a fugitive from our homeland of Hammerfell.” one of them responded “She’s redguard like us, and may be using an alias to hide who she really is, but we’re certain she’s in this city. If you find her, let us know immediately; we’ll be in Rorikstead until you do.”

“Hold on,” Stross stopped them before they could leave “what has she done anyway?”

“That is none of your concern, all you need to know is that we’ll pay you for information and-

“I beg to differ, but it is my concern if you want me to help you in any way at all.” Stross told them like the paragon of morality (he thinks) he is “For all I know, you could be hunting down an innocent person who’s done nothing wrong, and I won’t help you if that’s the case.”

“Done nothing wrong?” the Redguard took offence “She betrayed the resistance to the Aldmeri Dominion during the war. The entire city of Taneth was captured by the enemy because of her; it took two whole years to reclaim it, and hundreds died! So don’t tell me she’s done nothing wrong!” he fumed.

“Okay…” Stross recovered from the verbal onslaught “You could have just told me that in the first place and I’d drag her to you myself.”

“I’m sorry, I lost my mother and father during that battle. I’ve been itching to bring justice to the one responsible. Thank you for helping us.” he said before leaving.

About an hour later at Breezehome, Fenora had awoken and was checking over her remaining gear, sharpening the blades and patching armor with the materials she’d bought from the blacksmiths next door. Lydia meanwhile was looking over a set of maps and charting the best course to Ustengrav. They were swiftly pulled from their tasks when there was a thump at the door.

Fenora opened it and found that Stross had tried and failed to dramatically kick it in.

“There’s a knob you know.” she rolled her eyes as he rubbed his aching foot.

“But something this amazing deserves a dramatic reveal.” he told her.

“Well what is it?”

“This!” Stross said as he produced two giant crystals the size of large coconuts, one orange and the other blue, his cloak flourishing as he did so.

The sound Fenora made was something between “Wowzah” and “F*cking ‘blivion”. Not bothering to wipe the drool from her mouth, she snatched one of the gems and pulled Stross inside.

“These things are huge!” she exclaimed as she examined the orange one she’d grabbed “Where did you get them?”

Fenora paused for a second, her eyes wide with realization. “You didn’t steal these, did you? Please tell me you didn’t steal them. At the very least, tell me you didn’t steal them from someone important; someone that would send thugs to break our legs.”

“Fenora… calm down. I didn’t steal them. M’aiq gave them to me.”

Fenora’s fears were instantly replaced with confusion, and Lydia had paused in her work to hear the story as well.

“Okay, let me explain…

*Flashback**screen ripple**woo woo woo*(no I never get tired of this)

So I had just finished browsing through Belathor’s shop for anything worth buying (the prices there were obscene by the way), when a familiar khajiit in orange robes pulled me behind the buildings. Now this was weird, because those merchants told us that the kitty-cat people weren’t allowed in the cities. But I didn’t get to ask him about it before he gave me these things.

“Wow, thanks.” I told him “Umm, what are they.”

“Those are Aperture stones,” he explained in that accent of his “once per day you can open a portal for a short time; with this portal you can move anything between them instantly, no matter the distance.”

As soon as he said that, I started thinking of the possibilities. We could jump from one end of the world to the other in seconds! Or transport huge amounts of treasure and gear from wherever we stash it, right to us! We could even portal giant rocks, trees, or lava, or something heavy to defeat our enemies! You could say that I was “thinking with portals”.

Still, I had to know.

“Why are you giving me these?” I asked him. “Who are you?” And that’s when he smiled.

“It is true I am no mere wandering Kahjiit, but who I really am is unimportant. As for the stones, I give them to you because you will put them to good use, and because I have something I require your assistance with; a favor if you will. Take these with you on your travels as well.”

*end flashback**harp strum*

“Before the guards chased him out he gave me this pelvic bone, this axe, this broken sun-looking thing, and this twenty-seven sided die. It’s stuff that belongs to some Daedric princes that will help us with our stuff if we help them with their stuff, but he also said not to help the other Daedra if we can help it; they’re into some nasty stuff and we don’t want anything to do with nasty stuff. So apparently we’ve got a new list of stuff to do.” Stross concluded.

Fenora just stared at him blankly. “…Are we heroes or a delivery service?”

“Maybe a bit of both, my thane.” Lydia answered.

So after packing some lunch and leaving most of their extra gear at home, the three of them set of on their way to Ustengrav. They would make their way to Morthal by carriage and trek up the mountains from there. But first, Stross insisted that they stop by Rorikstead on the way.

Rorikstead was a small farming town, similar in size to Ivarstead. However, with no shops to buy or sell gear, there wasn’t much reason to visit.

“Why’d you need to stop here again?” Fenora asked as the driver pulled over and they dismounted.

“There’s some people here I need to help, Alik’r warriors from Hammerfell.” He explained as he went to the inn.

Inside was much like any of the other inns Stross had encountered. There were several tables set up, a large fire in the center of the room, and at the far end was a man behind the counter selling food or renting the rooms to travelers. Among the other people staying there were the Alik’r warriors Stross had met in Whiterun.

“Oh, it’s you again.” one greeted him as he approached “Have you any news for us?”

“Sure do, I found the woman you’re looking for, she was working at the Bannered Mare in Whiterun. The second I asked her if she was from Hammerfell she dragged me into the back room, put a knife to my throat, and said she’d gut me if I told anyone who she was.” Stross remembered painfully as he traced the spot where she had carved a line into his neck.

“And get this. After I got her to let me go, she actually wanted me to wipe you guys out for her, saying she was an innocent refugee on the run from Thalmor assassins.”

“I assure you, it’s a lie to cover her trail, and that leaves us with a problem,” one stated “She’s still under the protection of the Whiterun guards, and beyond our reach. After the accident with all that cheese, I doubt they’ll believe us when we say they’re harboring a fugitive.”

“Don’t worry, you just leave that to me.” Stross told them as a grin spread across his face. Pulling out the Aperture stone, he opened a portal back to the other in Whiterun and stepped through.

Several minutes later, the Alik’r were still staring at the portal when a Redguard woman stepped through carrying a large burlap sack.

“That’s her, don’t let her get away!” one yelled as the rest drew their swords.

“This is not the woman you’re looking for .” Stross said, waving his hand in front of them whirl of green flame dispelled his illusion “But this one is.” he opened the sack to reveal the real fugitive, bound and struggling to get free.

“That’s right, no one tries to stab me up and gets away with it… except Fenora, she’s special.”

“Excellent! Thank you my friend!” one of the Alik’r congratulated him “I don’t know how you did what you just did, but we’re all glad you didn’t believe her lies.”

“How could I?” Stross asked rhetorically “Besides the fact that I’m a changeling and can tell when someone’s lying, there were quite a few contradictions in her story.” he explained while a bard played this music in the background.

“You see, first she said that she didn’t even know that you were in the city looking for her, yet she directed me to the member of your group that was in the city prison in hopes that I would shake him down for information.

Secondly, she said that she was being hunted be the Aldmeri Dominion for speaking out against them. But I did my research, and by that I mean I asked someone who knew, and I found out that Hammerfell is not allied with the Dominion or their Thalmor whatsoever, so the idea that they’d send assassins to hunt her down for speaking out against them in Hammerfell is completely ludicrous because everyone in Hammerfell hates them anyways.

Furthermore, I learned that the Alik’r fought against the Thalmor during the war; there’s no way they’d try to send you to do their dirty-work, and no way you’d ever agree to work for them even if they did.”

The warriors and their new captive sat wide-eyed as Stross explained his reasoning.

“W- well in any case, thank you for your help. Please, take this as a token of our thanks, you've earned it.”

Stross smiled at the curved sword he’d earned for a job well done as he walked back out to his friends. He was sure that Fenora would love the new addition to her arsenal once he gave it to her.

“You want to become a what?!” he heard her yell from near the wagon as she talked to a local Nord.

“I want to become an adventurer like you.” he told her excitedly “My da told me it’s too dangerous, but I’m tired of being a farmer, it’s so boring.”

“So you want to kill yourself instead?” Fenora took on a pessimistic stance.

“I- what?”

“Do you have a decent set of armor? How about any experience surviving in the wild, any skill with a blade or bow?”

“Well, I… don’t really have the money for training or armor.” he admitted “But I’m saving up.”

Fenora took in a deep breath and massaged her temples.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there? Do you? I was just heading back home from Elsweyr not even a week ago when I got dragged into an adventure, and since then I’ve been mauled by bandits, trolls, and the undead more times than I can count already. And to add to that, there are dragons out there now, and I’m expected to kill them!” Fenora went off on one of her rants again.

“My friend from Elsweyr that I was visiting is a treasure hunter, and she can count the stories of how she nearly lost her life on each of her remaining fingers. My own father was an adventurer, one of the best. And he lost both his legs and half his face before he was forced to retire, he’s lucky to still be alive, and for the fact that my mum is blind as a rock. So take my advice Erik, and don’t be reckless with your life, you’ll keep more of your limbs that way.”

“But- that all sounds awesome.” Erik whined at being denied his chance at dismemberment.

“You could always join the Companions,” Stross chimed in “they’re good people to get set on the right path with.”

“And remember, get yourself some good, strong leg armor.” a random guard joined the conversation “Many of us guards have succumb to the same specific injury during our time adventuring due to neglecting this important piece of knowledge.”

“Right, the Companions, and leg armor; I could do that!” Erik said, his spirits lifted again “Now I just need to convince my da to let me travel to Whiterun.”

“Over my dragon-charred corpse!” his father yelled from the inn.

What is this, a PG-13 horror movie?

The rest of the trip to Morthal was uneventful, save for a small group of bandits that tried to hold them up. They were sent running when Fenora gave their leader an bow-and-arrow-lobotomy and the carriage continued on its way despite Fenora’s request to “Drive me closer, I want to hit them with my sword”.

About an hour later the ground got softer and the road disappeared.

“My apologies friends, but I dare not go further than this; the marsh is too treacherous for these wheels.” the driver told them as he stopped just outside the marsh “Morthal’s about a twenty minute walk that-a-way, but be wary; there’s lots of strange goings on in that place, and they’re none too accepting of outsiders, good luck.”

Much of the area ahead was covered in a thick fog as they continued on foot, making it nearly impossible to see anything. Dark purple flowers and fungal pods lined the ground that was not covered with dead bushes and grass. Dead, twisted trees appeared every so often, and occasionally the ground would give way to the swamp underneath them. Overall, it was not a pleasant place, and none of them could understand why anyone would live out here.

Suddenly, they heard a voice far off in the distance, behind a thick curtain of fog. “There are dead things- dead faces in the water!” it yelled in shock.

“Yeesss… All dead, all rotten.” another, raspier voice answered “Elves and men and orcses, and a great battle, long ago. The dead marshes; yes, yes that is the name. This way,” it hissed “don’t follow the lights.”

Sufficiently freaked out, Fenora, Stross, and Lydia continued forward until they herd another set of voices.

“Wait- where’s the road? We’re lost!”

A deep howl echoed through the mashes.

“Aw shit Davey, what is that?”

“I don’t know but I think we should just keep moving.”

A few seconds later, Stross couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore. As much as he’d like to help whoever was out there, they were gone.

Finally reaching a clearing in the fog a bit past sunset, our heroes made it to Morthal. The town was divided by the river coursing through it. On one side was a house and a lumber mill, on the other side of the stone bridge were a set of docks, and a small number of buildings built on what little dry ground there was.

Ah yes Morthal, the setting every 70’s horror movie director dreamed of.

But to Stross, there was something other than the towns’ creepy appearance and locale that bothered him. He first noticed it when he passed one of the town’s guards. If he weren’t a changeling, the chainmail-clad defenders would have looked exactly the same as any other he’d seen so far. Normally the aura a pony, griffon, or zebra (or human in this case) would be clear and radiant around them like a halo of life. But all the guard’s were fuzzy, distorted, and even a little weak. At first he thought it to be an anomaly, but then he noticed it with some of the townsfolk he passed.

He couldn’t bring himself to ignore it.

“Excuse me, guardsman.” Stross called over. The guard gave him no reply.

“Hey, you alright?” he walked closer and tried again. The guard simply pushed his way through him and mechanically continued on his patrol as if he weren’t even there. Stross had seen this many times before.

“Mind control, not a full overhaul though. Allows them to pantomime a normal life, but muddles their minds enough to make them ignore selective threats; might explain why he can’t see me. Changelings use this all the time so they can safely feed, and judging by how weak they look, they’ve definitely been drained recently. But there are no other changelings in Skyrim… are there?”

A group of townspeople gathered to complain about how their jarl was being too passive about the issues at hand. First something about a house burning down, then the guards acting strangely, and finally blaming it all on a mage that recently moved in. However, the Steward taking their complaints would hear no more of it and sent them on their way.

Hearing the troubles of the townspeople, Stross decided to ask about it while Fenora and Lydia rented a room at the inn.

“Excuse me.” he caught them all as they were leaving. The stares he received reminded his time back in Equestria, when he’d dropped his disguise in the middle of a crowded room to be precise. “I umm- I just overheard that you had some- some problems and I, wondered if I could…help.” he nervously trailed off.

“You’d best just stay out of this outsider. We’ll handle our own problems.” one man in the crowd told him firmly, the others grunting in agreement before they left for their homes.

“Hey, if you really want to help, come with me. I’ll tell you what’s been going on.” the Steward said before leading him inside the Jarls longhouse.

“So you want to know what our problems are; where to begin?” the Steward, who revealed his name of Aslfer sighed as he sat across the table from Stross “People have been complaining about strange noises coming from the moors at night, keeping them awake. Hroggar’s house burned down with his wife and daughter inside. And finally there’s that new mage in town, Falion.”

Stross nearly choked on his apple juice “What?” he said, a little louder than he’d meant to.

“Yep, that wizard is up to something, wanderin’ around in the middle of the night like that.”

“No, the one before that.”

“Oh, you mean the noises from the moors?”

“Hroggar’s house,” Stross deadpanned “the one that burned down with his family inside.”

“Oh that, yeah, it’s a real shame about his family.” Aslfir explained sadly “Hroggar claims it was a hearth fire, but gossip says he did it on purpose due to him moving in with Alva the very next day.”

“So what do you think happened?”

“Honestly, I don’t know one way or the other. The circumstances are suspicious, but I just can’t imagine anyone killing their own family for someone else.”

Stross shook his head and sighed “You’d be surprised at what someone will do when their mind’s not there. And horrified at what they’d do when their mind is there. Where did this happen?”

“Just next door actually, next to the inn. Feel free to investigate, gods know that everyone else already has.”

Inside the inn, Fenora and Lydia had been going over their supplies seeing as how Stross had used up the Aperture stones earlier, and they wouldn’t be ready until the next day. The innkeeper was just happy to have some customers for the first time in months, and had told the Orcish bard to keep his music playing down so they didn’t leave. Regardless, they had to literally face the music for the next half hour “free of charge”. Quickly getting a migraine from the music, Lydia went to sleep while Fenora waited for Stross to show up.

Fenora was relieved of having to listen to the song that made even Stross’s terrible lyrics sound like that of a veteran musician’s when a woman walked over and sat next to her. This woman had dark hair, red eyes, and was wearing an outfit that couldn’t possibly have been more revealing without fading into non-existence.

“Well hello there, aren’t you a pretty one. I bet all the men chase after you.” she said seductively “My name’s Alva, maybe we should spend some time together later.” She ran her hand across Fenora’s cheek.

“Ever heard of personal space?” Fenora said in a very annoyed tone as she effortlessly shoved Alva off her.

Quickly recovering from her shock, Alva made another attempt. “But your personal space is so much nicer than being way over there.” she said as she draped her skinny arms over Fenora’s shoulders and nuzzled into her neck. Fenora’s eye started twitching out of annoyance, but before she could throw her neck-mounted molester into the nearest wall, someone else beat her to it.

“Back off! She’s mine!” Stross snarled as the impact shook the building.

Recovering from the concussion she’d just received, Alva looked up to see what just ripped her from her prey. Frowning, she grabbed him by the scruff of his cloak and pulled him in so they were talking face to face.

“So, another life-drinker comes to Morthal.” she dropped her seductress act and bared her pointed teeth “Very well, I’ll let you have your little meal, but the rest of the town is mine.” she hissed, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

“She’s not a changeling. What is she?”

With that, she released him from her grip and left the inn.

“…What was that all about?” Fenora asked.

“Her aura… it was so cold… but not empty, just…”

“I don't know. But none of this bodes well.” Stross answered grimly.

“So let me get all our info straight,” Fenora began her recap “that slut that just tried to work me over was a vampire, and has somehow bewitched the towns’ guards so that she can feed off them, and she’s also involved in the deaths of an innocent family somehow. In addition to that, the ghost of the little girl that was killed talked to you and said to meet her out in the marsh in the middle of the night. And to top it all off, the psychic Jarl’s psychic son told you that some weird wizard is somehow involved.”

“You may have skipped over how awesome I am for finding all this out, but yes, pretty much.” Stross answered her. “Also, what’s a vampire?”

Fenora massaged her temples and forehead, as she had done many times after meeting Stross.

“They’re undead blood drinkers that can’t survive in sunlight; I thought everyone knew that.” she told him in a condescending tone “So… how do we pull apart her schemes? We’re pulling apart her evil schemes, right?”

“Oh you know we are. We need to start in the marsh. Both the ghost girl and the wizard should be there around this time, so let’s see what they know.” Stross decided “Mark my words, that lady won’t be getting away with this on my watch.” A fire seemed to ignite in his eyes.

“Well then let’s get going, Mr. Protector-of-the-innocent.” Fenora teased as she picked him up and carried him out the door like a cardboard statue.

The marshlands were quite alive at this time of night, crickets, wolves, and other unpleasant creatures of the night turned their voices into an eerie symphony in the mist-shrouded landscape. Fenora and Stross were waiting near the edges of town for Falion to come out of his house and make his nightly rounds through the swamp.

“Are you sure he’s coming?” Fenora whispered.

“It’s what everyone’s told me when I asked, along with quite a few other bad things to say about him.”

Less than I minute later, the door to his house opened, and the blue-cloaked figure stepped outside. It was nearly impossible to see him once he had shut the door and the darkness surrounded him, but Stross was able to keep a bead on him. Motioning for Fenora to stay close, they followed him on his trek.

A short while later, Falion had reached some kind of alter. He pulled out a book, some black-ish purple stones, and a few alchemy reagents, and began muttering incantations. Caught deep in his work, he didn’t realize the two people that had followed him out, and were cornering him on either side.

“Hey,” one said as she lightly tapped his shoulder with a mace “what’s up?”

“Gah! What are you doing here? Never mind- you mustn’t speak of this with anyone. I’ll pay you not to tell the Jarl and-

“We don’t want your money-

“Says you.” Fenora interrupted.

“We want answers!” Stross said as he took over the interrogation “What’s happening to the people of Morthal? The Jarl’s son was convinced you’re involved.”

“And you’d take his wild dreams as evidence? He’s a good boy, but that’s absurd!” Falion tried to defend himself.

“A valid point, but what’s all this then?” Stross momentarily took on a british accent as he motioned towards the shrine and the stones “Plus we know that Alva’s a vampire, and we know she’s been mind-controlling the guards so she can feed off the townspeople! So what’s your stake in all of this?”

Falion stood in shock for a moment.

“What did you say?” he blinked.

“I said Alva’s a vampire and-

“And you know this for sure?” Falion said urgently.

“Well it was a pretty big clue when she dropped her act and said ‘So, another life-drinker comes to Morthal… this town is mine’ to me.” Stross turned into Alva for a moment to give a really dumb impression of her.

“So wait… she called you a life-drinker?”

“Yes.”

Falion just stood there for a second comprehending all he’d just seen and heard. Seconds later he was holding Stross on the ground and pouring water on his face while repeatedly yelling “The power of Shor compels you!”

“Falion, what are you doing? Falion, stahp!” Stross yelled through a mouthful of water.

“Be calm, demon! I am curing you of your vampirism, now hold still!”

“Fenora, HELP ME!”

“Hmm? Oh right, sorry; that was too entertaining not to watch.” Fenora finished off the sweetroll she was eating and finally helped her friend.

“NOOO, release me! I must cure this vampire!” Falion yelled as he struggled against Fenora’s grip.

“Firstly, I’m not a vampire, I’m a changeling. Secondly, you need to learn the difference between saving someone and drowning them.” Stross wagged his finger at Falion “And third… what do you mean ‘cure’? Aren’t you working with the vampire lady?”

“Hah! Hardly.” Falion scoffed as Fenora released him “I’ve been working on how to banish vampirism from the afflicted for years now, even before coming to this miserable little town of shut-ins. But you say that Alva is a vampire?”

“Yeah, and a molesty one at that.” Fenora told him.

“That would explain a lot of what’s happened to this town. We must warn the Jarl of this at once!”

And with that, they set off to expose the threat to Morthal.

“Well that didn’t go very well.” Falion said glumly as the three walked out of the longhouse.

“In hindsight, we’re just lucky we weren’t the reason she was up.” Stross pointed out “But seriously, who gets up for hot coco at 2 in the morning?”

“You got a problem with hot coco?” Fenora asked “Hot coco is awesome, especially with little marshmallows, or maybe just one big one.”

“Anyway… we’ll need to gather more evidence if we want anyone to believe us.” Stross reasoned.

“Or we could stop taking this like detectives, and more like hard-boiled cops.” Fenora suggested.

“And just how do you propose we do that?” Falion asked.

“I had to open my stupid mouth.” he said as Fenora kicked in the door to Alva’s house.

“Don’t worry, I do it all the time.” Stross sighed as he walked in with the others “Okay, let’s find something to prove Alva’s a vampire. But keep it down; we don’t need to wake everyone up.”

Just then, a large Nord walked up from the cellar “Who goes there?” he monotoned, raising an axe with a dead look in his eyes. Before anyone could move, a metal cooking pot collided with his head with a loud clang and he collapsed to the floor.

“What?” Fenora said as they looked at her “Pre-emptive self-defense.” she shrugged.

“Well, he’s still alive.” Stross confirmed “But he’s still under that spell, pretty heavily too.” He got flashbacks to the times he was forced to use mind-control himself; it always made him feel sick inside.

“That’s Hroggar,” Falion explained “it comes as no surprise that he’s been made to be Alva’s thrall with how long they’ve been seeing each other.”

“Right, Fen, watch the door." Stross said as he looked through a bookshelf, Fenora gave him a mock-salute "Falion, let’s search for evidence.”

Within a couple minutes of searching, Stross had found what they were looking for; Alva’s journal. Inside described how she was bored with her life, wishing for someone to come and be her ‘knight in armor’. How she met a stranger in the marsh one night, and that stranger happened to be a vampire who had turned her into one herself, promising they’d be together for an eternity if she’d take over Morthal for him; some kind of feeding ground for him and the rest of his followers.

The next passages described her systematic takeover of the town, including how she first enthralled Hroggar to be her protector, then Thronir’s wife Laelette as a servant. Also was recorded the events that spiraled into the disaster. She realized Hroggar’s family would interfere with her plans too much, and ordered Laelette to kill them. But the murders didn’t go as quietly as she’d hoped due to Laelette’s desire to take Tronir’s child for herself, which ended in the fire that put the entire town on alert.

The last page was a recent entry, one about Stross:

-Tonight was certainly an interesting one, and by interesting, I mean I was thrown against a wall by some puny bug while I tried to seduce a new face in town. But surprisingly, that pest was actually some kind of vampire, isn’t that just my luck? A giant vampire bug!

-I can only hope that it will take its little snack and move on; this town is too valuable to lose to that filth, and my situation is precarious enough without some freak that calls itself a vampire to mess it up.

…

“You heartless bitch.” Stross muttered as he snapped the book shut. "And I am NOT a vampire!"

When Stross returned upstairs, he found the situation had quickly gotten out of hoof- er... hand. Someone had seen them breaking and entering into Alva’s home, and now an angry mob had assembled outside, complete with torches and pitchforks. Fenora had barred the door, but it wouldn’t hold for long with all of them banging on it. The door shook on its already weakened hinges as the mob smashed on it again, and three terrified outsiders held it shut with all their might.

“What about Kynareth’s Peace?” Stross rummaged for solutions.

“That shout only works on animals!” Fenora reminded him.

Just then an axe head broke a hole in the door. “Here’s Johnny!” the villager outside yelled.

“…And your point is?” Falion deadpanned.

“These guys just won’t quit.” Stross thought as he felt his strength wane.

“It’s like I’m back in Equestria again, they're in danger so everyone scarred out of their minds and acting out of fear. But they'll just throw blame anywhere without bothering to know the truth. We're on their side and they're about to burn us at the stake. They don’t even know what-

"What the real danger even is; they’ll kill us because they think we’re the enemy.”

As the door was about to burst Stross knew what he had to do, and made a decision; a rash one, but a decision nonetheless. Sprinting for the back window, he dove through and took flight into the night air.

Outside, the mob had grown to nearly a dozen and a half, the town’s guard included. As the door to Alva’s house finally gave way, Fenora drew her swords, hesitant to fight her way through otherwise innocent townspeople. Falion nervously stepped behind her, attempting to put something between himself and the angry villagers.

“There’s the blasted mage!” one of the mob yelled.

“Got an outsider with him. Get them both!”

“Back off!” Fenora growled as she turned her sword points towards the open doorway. “I mean it.”

There was an awkward pause. Now that weapons were drawn, neither side wanted to strike the first blow and put themselves at risk, but teetering on the edge of fight or standstill. Fenora didn’t dare break her stance, lest any of the mob find an opening and cut her down.

But unfortunately, she let her guard down for a split second when she quickly looked to the window Stross had left through. In that moment, a young boy rushed at her with a cooking ladle of all things, screaming at the top of his lungs.

It ended as you might expect. He got in a single poke with the utensil before Fenora had him in a stranglehold between her and the rest of the mob.

“You really shouldn’t have done that, kid.” she said as she put the back of her blade to his neck and addressed the mob. "BACK. OFF. NOW!"

Immediately, the boys’ foolhardy valor was turned into pitiful sobs for mercy. “I’m sorry- please I didn’t mean it- I was just trying to be a hero- don’t kill me- Bawww!” he screamed incoherantly.

“I’m not- Umm, I… okay fine- I won’t kill you. Geez.” Fenora said awkwardly “But you really brought this on yourself you know.”

“I want my mom and dad.” he sniffled.

Fenora rolled her eyes and let him go. For a few moments the crowd just stared in silence as the boy ran back to his parents. A couple of moments later, one of the mob asked “Uhh… what do we do now?” echoing the thoughts of the others.

“Get them!” the angry mother ordered.

“ENOUGH!” bellowed Stross’s amplified voice as a burst of green fire exploded in the sky above them. The crowd turned to see the flaming changeling standing atop the Jarl’s longhouse. The grass and snow vaporized at his feet when he dropped to the ground, the mob fearfully raising their makeshift weapons.

“People of Morthal, WE ARE NOT YOUR ENEMY!” he shouted, the villagers dropping their weapons in fear as they gazed at his pitch-black form. But then the flames on his body dissipated and his tone returned to normal.

“But we know who is to blame.” he said calmly, stepping aside for Jarl Ingrid to speak.

“We have all been deceived.” she said, holding Alva’s journal in her old fingers.

Chapter 14

Idgrod retold the contents of Alva’s journal while Stross found his way back to the others. The mob of townspeople stood outside the Jarls house listening to her tale like a group of children listening to a scary bedtime story.

“Movarth was a master vampire I thought destroyed over a century ago.” she told them “My father would tell us about the horrid things he’d done when he was in power; covens of vampire followers and legions of braindead thralls, enslaving entire towns to be used as cattle for their bloodthirst, wearing a stupid cape with the collar turned up.” Idgrod grimaced at that last one “But it seems he’s back, and trying to get a foothold so he can regain his territory. And Alva has been helping him these last few months, the traitorous bitch!"

The crowd winced at her foul language.

“It’s lucky these strangers came along when they did. Now we can root out Movarth before he gets the chance to enslave us again!” Idgrod rallied them “And to think you all hated outsiders so much.”

“And… we can finally have some justice for my poor Laelette!” Thronir yelled “Those abominations killed my wife, and would have done worse to all of us! Let’s go make them pay!”

The rest of the mob charged off alongside him, yelling battlecries and thinking angry thoughts.

“Wait!” Jarl Idgrod yelled after them, but to no avail “I meant hire a hunter to clear them out, someone named Belmont maybe.” she sighed and looked to Fenora and Stross “I’m afraid I have a new task for you.”

“Say no more,” Fenora said sullenly as she checked her gear “I’m kind of used to it at this point.”

Fenora and Stross, plus Falion who decided to tag along, reached the cave entrance to Movarth’s lair only a few minutes after the Morthal mob had, and were surprised to find that none of them had gotten within spitting distance of the place. Instead, they simply lingered unsurely near the entrance.

“So… this is the place.” one muttered.

“Yup.”

…

“It’s kind of scary up close isn’t it?”

“…And it’s full of vampires.”

…

“Soooo… who’s goin’ in first?”

…

“Oh for Shor’s sake!” Thronir yelled as he walked to the front of the group “They took my Laelette, they would have done it to any of us. They still will unless we wipe them out here and now; so who’s with me?” he raised his woodcutters axe.

The rest of them were more than hesitant to raise their own weapons, their zealous vigor having quickly faded once they considered what they were up against.

“Over here!” Fenora called as she pushed her way through, the crowd easily parting to her and her friends.

“Ahh, at least you’re with me.” Thronir said, relieved to have some support.

“No.” Fenora told him “You’re with us. We’re the professional slayers of whatever people point us towards. If you want to come along and back us up, then you’re welcome to it just don’t get in our way. What about the rest of-

Fenora looked back only to see that the mob of villagers had vanished, most having dropped their makeshift weapons and torches on the ground.

“Good luck!” one called over to them in the distance before running away again.

“Pfht, fine. It’s probably for the best.” Fenora told herself “Tronir, Falion remember what I told you and stay out of the way. Stross…” she said as she put on a brimmed hat, pulled out an intricate metal crossbow, and loaded the first bolt in a badass fashion “Let’s knock some heads.”

As they entered the caverns, the first thing they noticed was the smell of blood and decay, punctuated with an aftertaste of wine. Soon they discovered the source, several cartfulls of remains, human or otherwise, were piled outside one of the tunnels, a person dressed like a bandit hauling them out and dumping them.

“This must be where they throw their leftovers,” Stross reasoned as they watched from a distance “and they’ve been busy.” he shifted his gaze to the bandit “That guy over there looks like he’s been enthralled like Hroggar.”

Suddenly a bolt pierced through the bandits head and into his brain, killing him instantly.

“What are you doing!” Stross nearly shrieked at Fenora as she lowered her crossbow.

“Taking out their minions, he was under their control right?”

“But I could have tried to break their hold on them later.” Stross argued “We should be saving these poor people, not killing them.”

Fenora just looked at him for a moment and blinked a few times.

“Stross, you’re too nice for your own good you know that.” Fenora told him when realized he was serious “Alright, save them if you can, but don’t expect me to hold back when they’re rushing us with swords.”

Stross smiled, and nodded.

Soon the four of them came to a large open area with a banquet table in the center. Movarth sat at the head while his vampiric followers gathered at the sides, in total there had to have been at least eight of them, each with a thrall of their own. On the table were kegs of wine, various cuts of meat, stacks of gold coins, and other valuables that covered the table like a shrine to greed and gluttony.

“My loyal followers.” Movarth stood, addressing the others “It has come to my attention that our progress in the town of Morthal has run into yet another snag."

The other vampires whispered lightly to each other at this.

“The source… was none other than our newest member, Alva.” he snapped his fingers and a large thrall dragged Alva, bound and gagged, before the crowd.

“I was foolish to trust a task of such importance to a mere fledgeling. But you were foolish to fail me!”  he yelled, barring his fangs.

Alva finally managed to wrestle her gag off. “But you said I would be yours, that we’d be together forever!”

“Silence!” Movarth roared “I said we would if you brought me Morthal. I gave you my gift, I gave you more than your share of chances. But you have failed me nonetheless, betrayed me. Now I will show you what happens to those that betray me.” He said, seething with anger as he bared his fangs once more.

“No… no please! Movarth!” Alva struggles against her bonds as Movarth moved to drain away her life essence. “Please, give me another chance. I can take another town, any town you want!”

“It’s too late for that, but don’t worry.” Moverth told Alva as he held her chin “There will always be others to replace you.”

With that he bit down on her neck, the vampiric energies keeping her alive quickly flowing back to their source. But before Alva’s eyes closed and darkness overtook her, she felt a sharp pain as Movarth bit down ever slightly harder.

Back in the world of consciousness, Movarth reeled backwards and writhed in pain on the floor as yanked out the bolt lodged in his spine.

“WHO SHOT THAT?!” he roared as he stood up, his healing factor restoring him.

It wasn’t more than a second later that three more bolts hit him in the chest, neck, and forehead. The assailant finally stepped out of the shadows as he recovered from the impacts.

“Now that I have your attention.” Fenora said as she chambered another bolt.

“GET HER!” Movarth ordered to his followers as he glared daggers at Fenora.

Instantly, every thrall and lesser vampire was charging towards her, spells glowing and weapons raised. But Fenora was lifted into the air by Stross, giving her just enough height to scramble over their heads. Together they made a beeline for Movarth, hoping to take him down first.

He shot out a trio of fireballs at them, forcing Stross to drop Fenora in order to avoid it. Fenora rolled with the landing, pulled out a whip, and lashed it at him. Movarth teleported away again, launching another fireball as soon as he reappeared.

At this point the rest of the vampires had begun advancing on them again, and Stross had to focus on keeping them at bay with his stun spells and flashbangs. The thralls collapsed easily, and the vampires turned away, shielding themselves from the sudden bright light. But these spell were never meant to be more than distractions for fleeing changelings, and their effect quickly wore off.

Meinwhile, as Fenora struggled to even hit Movarth as he teleported around them, and Stross desperately tried to hold off the advancing army, Thronir and Falion watched from one of the room’s higher landings.

“Don’t you think we should help?” Thronir asked.

“Yes, but how? You’re a woodcutter, and my combat magic is next to none.” Falion told him in frustration.

“Dammit you’re right; we’d probably get killed out there if we tried.”

“Gah!” Fenora yelled in pain as one of the fireballs struck her square in the back “Hold still, damn you!” she fired another salvo at Movarth.

Movarth cackled manically as he dodged her bolts again and returned fire, teleporting away again shortly after. Stross let out a stream of fire along the ground that grew into a massive wall of flame, giving him a few precious seconds to aid his elvish friend. Scanning the room for Movarth’s putrid aura as he teleported away, he spotted what he was looking for and quickly relayed his knowledge.

“Fen, over there!” he pointed next to the banquet table just as Movarth appeared.

Movarth was going to launch another fireball, but he soon found his helpless targets were not so helpless anymore, especially since one of those foes now had a whip coiled tightly around his neck.

“Get over here!” Fenora yelled. And with a strong pull, Movarth was in her grasp, staring down the shaft of her crossbow as she held him in place.

“Smile you son-a-va motherless goat!” Fenora yelled as she emptied her magazine into Movarth’s face. Once her crossbow clicked empty she kicked his body away, and with a flick of her wrist the whip tore through his throat, ripping his head clean off his body and sending it bouncing away onto the floor.

For a few short moments everything was silent.

Thronir, Falion watched in awe, while Stross and the dozen minions currently dog-piling on top of him could only stop and stare, their mouths hanging open wordlessly.

Fenora stood over the limp, decapitated body of Movarth for a second before turning to the rest.

“Well you guys. I knew it all along.” she said to them as she pulled out a pair of shades “Vampires…” -put’s on shades- “suck.”

Youtube Video

Their victory was cut short however, as Movarth’s dead body turned to ashes only to reform into an even larger, gargantuan bat-like… thing…

He turned into the final stage vampire bat-monster; how else do I say this?

Anyway, he punched Fenora to the ground and stomped her once before picking up her limp form and snarling “Vampires do NOT suck… Nor do we sparkle!”

He then slashed open her throat with a claw and began to use magic to drink her blood, while ironically both sucking and sparkling.

“Fen, NO!” Stross yelled “Hey would you guys mind getting off me?” he asked to the pile of people on top of him.

“Naw man.”

“We’re good here.”

“Oh for crying out- Burn!” Stross ignited himself, sending the heap off in search of water buckets.

Acting quickly, Stross body-slammed into Movarth. Unfortunately, this had little effect seeing as how the vampire was now easily four times bigger than Stross, and Movarth kept draining Fenora despite the latter repeatedly stabbing him in the eyes with a broken wine bottle.

Stross tried his stun spell, followed by fire blasts. Nothing worked and Fenora hung limply by the throat as Stross scratched at Movarth with his chitonous claws before Movarth grew tired of the annoyance and slapped Stross away.

“Enough you puny fledgeling!” he snarled at Stross as he finished absorbing Fenora’s life energy and threw her to the floor beside him “Your friend is already dead.”

“What? No!” the changeling thought as he put a hand on Fenora’s cheek. Through his aura sense he could feel her life slowly flickering out.

“Fen, stay with me, I won’t let you die like this, I won’t leave you.” he whispered to her as he channeled what little of his own power he could spare to keep that spark of life from going out.

He was interrupted again, and at the worst possible time, by Movarth snatching him up in an iron death-grip. Through the bone-crushing sensation from the fingers around his skull, Stross could hear Movarth speak a single word.

“Pathetic.”

What followed was a bone-snapping crunch as Movarth stomped down on Fenora’s already broken body, shattering her ribcage and likely rupturing her insides. As his own scales began to crack and bleed, the changeling could just see the little white light that remained of Fenora’s life force finally fade out.

That was more than Stross could take.

Setting his hand ablaze to a near molten temperature, Stross jammed his fingers into Movarth’s arm, causing the master vampire to shriek in pain and release him. Highlighting on his advantage, Stross lunged forward screaming, both hands now ablaze. Aiming for the chest he plunged his hand through Movarth’s ribcage and tore his black, ichor-filled heart out; squeezing the still beating organ in one hand and Movarth’s head in the other, his fingers digging into the vampire’s skull. In his anger Stross wasted no time in Syphoning the life out of him.

“Give it back.”

Stross could feel the blood from all the people Movarth had ever fed upon as he drained energy from the vampire, each felt a bit different, but all were tainted by a taste that Stross had always despised; deception and malice. It was if Movarth’s very soul was made of nothing but evil, corrupting everything it touched.

“It wasn’t yours to take. It wasn’t given, you didn’t earn it, so give it back.”

All of Movarth’s life reserves had been drained and he reverted back to his normal form, but Stross didn’t stop there. Full of anger and thirsting for vengeance, he delved into Movarth’s own tainted life-force and syphoned out every last morsel of life left in the monster before him.

“Give. Her. Back… and-“

“DIE!” Stross wailed in his heavily distorted voice as he tore the last bits of life out of the vampire making its body explode into dust, never to rise again.

Things were silent as Stross stood in the center of the room. He turned to look at Movarth’s minions and their thralls for a mere second before all of them ran for the exit, screaming like ladies and scrambling over each other as they did so. Stross didn’t pursue them however, his mind was on one thing and one thing only; Fenora.

Rushing to where she lay on the rocky floor, he did the only thing he could think of and began pouring all his power into reviving her, and not just what he could spare, all of it. At a miraculous pace, her bones and muscles mended, and the burns and scars healed over as if they were never there. Within seconds Fenora’s body was in perfect condition, but her eyes didn’t open, nor did she start breathing again.

“Come on Fen. Don’t do this to me.”

Straining to keep the flow of energy constant, Stoss kept healing her, focusing on the fading remnants of her life-force.

“You’re the only real friend I’ve ever had, and we only just met. You can’t die so soon.”

Stopping the quickly fading glow from leaving her body was like trying to stoke a dying forge back to life from the embers, times a million, yet Stross persisted. He couldn’t just give up.

“Please don’t die…” Stross managed to think before the healing glow finally gave out and his world faded to black “Fenora… I love you.”

Stoss was swimming in blackness. Time seemed inconsequential to him until a bright light opened up to him in the distance. Moving towards it automatically, Stross peered through it. On the other side was a world he was very familiar with; Equestria.

Immediately he found himself being sucked through the portal to the other side.

When he opened his eyes, Stross realized he was laying in a grassy field outside of a small town. Looking himself over, he saw that he was in a four-legged form again, but not his form. This one was larger, with fur instead of shell, and feathered wings instead of insect ones.

“You okay Rainy?” a soft feminine voice to his right asked.

“What? Who said that? And how did I get here?” Stross thought, but his mouth answered for him, the rest of his body moving of its own accord as well.

“I’m fine,” he said, though not in his own voice “I was just thinking how nice the weather is today.”

His head turned to look at a violet-colored mare with a light green mane. Stross immediately remembered her.

“Bloom sprite. But that was- This… was years ago. How did I get here; why can’t I move? Is this some kind of memory?”

“I know, right?” Bloom said as she snuggled up to his side “I’m so glad you wanted to come out here with me.”

Stross couldn’t help but relax inside his own head as he brushed his hoof through her soft mane and felt her breath against his chest. He remembered Bloom really well because of how warm her aura was, and how quickly she had latched on to him. He had assumed the form of a pegasus for a couple of days and met her in a flower shop. From there they’d met a few times for lunch and those meetings had quickly turned to dates.

All the while he’d been seeing her, he’d feed off her in tiny bits, just enough to survive; she’d never noticed and he always found some way to make it up to her, even if she didn’t know what it was for. Stross, or Raindrops, was always kind of awkward, but Bloom liked him, and she would go out of her way to see him more often. This was one of those times when they were alone together, and it was times like this that Stross would always remember and cherish.

“Hey Bloom?” his voice asked of its own accord.

“Hmm?” she looked up at him sweetly.

“There’s something important I need to tell you.”

“Wait… was this? Oh no.” Stross remembered the one bad part of this memory.

“I think I’m in love with you Bloom.” he told her “Hey, I mean it.” he said when she started to laugh.

“I’m sorry Rainy, you’re just so silly when you try to be romantic.” Bloom said between snickers “But I know, and I love you too.”

She scooted up closer to kiss him, but he stopped her just short of his lips.

“Hold on, I just want to do this right.”

“No no no, NO! Don’t do it you fool, you’ll ruin everything!” Stross yelled despite having already lived through the outcome.

“Rain, what do you mean?” Bloom gave him a confused look.

“I just need to show you what I really am. Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.”

“It IS that bad!”

“Just… stay right there, and keep watching.” ‘Raindrops’ told her as he got up “Just remember, it’s still me. Okay?”

“Raindrops?” Bloom said, clearly starting to get frightened.

No matter how much Stross wished it hadn’t happened, there was no way for him to change the past. He got up and stood only a couple of feet from Bloom, and let his disguise slowly melt away as she watched in absolute terror.

“No! You idiot!” Stross yelled, at himself ironically.

“Bloom, this is me.” he said as he opened his aqua eyes and looked at her “Umm are… you alright?”

Bloom was breathing uneasily and looked to be on the verge of either screaming or fainting outright.

“Bloom?” Stross said gently as he brushed a hoof against her cheek.

Stross mentally sighed “Three, two… one-”

So, screaming it was. And boy howdy, was it. The hills were alive alright. Alive with sounds of “AAAAAHHHH!” and “MONSTER!” and “DON”T EAT ME!” as Bloom ran for her life.

“Bloom wait!” Stross yelled as he flew after her “I’m sorry!”

Stross managed to corner her at the bank of a strongly coursing river. She looked nervously between him and the rushing waters, wondering if it was better to chance swimming to the other side and drowning, or meeting her fate with the monster walking towards her.

“Bloom… please, it’s still me.” Stross begged her as he once again assumed the form of Raindrops “I still love you, please don’t run.”

“You’re lying, you're still that thing!” Bloom yelled at him.

“Of course I was lying! Would you have even talked to me if I looked like this?” Stross dropped his disguise again, Bloom grimaced as he did “You said you loved me, and I know it was true. Changelings need love to survive, without you I’d have died, I still will.” he explained “Please don’t do this to me Bloom… I love you.”

Stross reached forward to her, but she recoiled and stepped back. This unfortunately led to her falling in the river. Stross galloped after her as the river swept her away and she desperately tried to keep her head above the water. Flying over, he attempted to grab her and pull her out, but with her added weight and the strength of the current Stross only got pulled in as well. His wings soaked and useless, he could only hold on to Bloom and keep her head above the water until they plummeted over the edge of a waterfall and were pulled underneath.

Darkness, cold, and a chocking pain flooded Stross’s senses as water flooded his lungs. He could feel Bloom’s slowly losing warmth as he held on to her. Air bubbles escaped from both of them, heading towards the shimmering light near the surface. Concentrating through the pain, Stross charged up a teleportation spell and held Bloom even tighter, hoping with all his might that it would drag her along with him.

He landed and rolled, hard cobblestone beneath him. Coughing and sputtering, he forced his eyes open through the pain and the blinding sun to see Bloom, soaking wet less than a foot away.

“Bloom…” he chocked out as he dragged himself over to her unconscious form “Bloom…”

He was stopped by a pair of hooves wearing gold metal. They dragged him away while another guard and several other ponies from the crowded market street checked if Bloom was okay. Immediately the guard began preforming CPR on her, desperately trying to save her life.

“Bloom I’m sorry!” Stross yelled in tears as the guard slapped magical restraints on him and dragged him off. “I’M SO SORRY!”

Stross woke with a start, gasping for breath as he looked around him. He was in a bed in the inn, he could tell by how uncomfortable it was. He felt around for what form he was in; bipedal, with lots of bandages.

“It was just a memory, a really bad memory.”

He thought back to that day. Bloom had lived and made a full recovery, but it took him nearly a week to break out of that prison. Fortunately it was before the invasion of Canterlot so they had no idea what he was and had just thrown him in with the rest of the prisoners. If they had known he’d have likely been sentenced to death if not killed on sight. He wished he had never told Bloom the truth, but it just felt so wrong not to, to live a lie like that, and use it to take advantage of another.

Bloom wasn't the first, and she'd hardly been the only one. But no matter what, the outcome was always the same.

Stross let out a sigh before falling back onto the pillow. When he did however, he disturbed something; a silver-haired wood-elf who had been hanging asleep off the side of the bed, clutching his bandaged hand in hers.

“Mmn… Stross?” she groaned as she blinked herself awake.

“Fenora,? I-“

Before Stross could continue, Fenora had already pulled him into a bone-snapping hug. “You idiot.” she half-heartedly scolded him “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Wha-“

“Thronir and Falion were watching the whole thing, the spineless wimps. They told me what happened and helped to drag you back here.” she explained “You nearly killed yourself trying to save me.”

“Of course Fen, we’re friends. That’s what friends do for each other.” he said, still trying to forget the terrible memories that had popped into his mind.

Fenora stared at him in shock for a second. “Stross… you’re the best friend I've ever had. But after all this, I can't understand why you haven't left yet. I don’t deserve you.”

"No... don't say that." Stross brushed a few stray hairs out of her face "You're the first person that's known what I am, and didn't hate me for it. Period. You stayed with me when I fell into this world, and even wanted to be my friend. You don't know how much that means to me." he told her honestly “and like it or not, I'm going to return the favor. I’m here to stay and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

With that he hoped out of bed and headed for the door, adopting a chipper attitude on a dime for her.

“So where are we going next?” he asked.

“Umm, Ustengrav… to get the horn for the Greybeards.” Fenora reminded him “But are you sure you’re up for it so soon? You were in pretty bad shape when we brought you here.”

“I’ll be fine.” He told her as he pulled off the bandages from where his shell had healed over “I can’t explain why, but I feel great right now.”

This was a lie though, and Stross knew it. He knew exactly why he felt great; the reason had been in the room with him all night while he recovered. Fenora’s love for him was stronger than ever, and for the first time, he truly knew that it was okay. He’d been with her through everything thus far, and would be through all her adventures to come. And the best part was that he hadn’t needed to use any of the usual trickery to get there, Fenora just loved him for who he was, and that’s really all he wanted all along.

As the two of them met up with Lydia and headed out the door to ever brighter days filled with danger and world trekking fun, Stross couldn’t help but smile at this whole chance mishap that he now considered to be the best thing to ever happen to him.

Honor (and stupidity) among thieves

It was a bright and sunny morning in Whiterun, and our heroes were setting out for Riften to contact the Thieves Guild after some much needed R and R (Reselling-treasure-for-profit and Ravaging-the-local-inn’s-liquor-cabinet). Laelette informed them that she would be staying behind to tend their house and all the random piles of junk they left in it. When they asked her if she’d be okay with all the sunlight and lack of people that didn’t need their blood, with the exception of a few… Nazeem, I’m looking at you, ya pompous asshole; I do “happen to get to the clouds district”. Anyone can just walk up there whenever they want; it’s not that big of an achievement!

Where was I? Oh yeah.

Laelette told them she was also working at the temple of Kynareth as a healer, and that she would be “participating” in the blood drive later. So after she promised to behave herself, and Stross gave her an invisibility potion in case of an emergency, they headed out with the hopes that nothing bad would happen along the way.

And we can all guess how that will turn out.

“Oh what is all this?” Fenora said in confusion as three imperial soldiers stopped them a couple minutes after they passed Honningbrew Meadery.

“Umm, you there, citizen. You’re messin’ with imperial beeswax, so you’ll have to pay us a fine.” the leader, an orc, told them in an unprofessional manner “Two-hundred gold each, pay up now.”

“Okay,” Stross thought as he observed them “there’s no way that these idiots are imperial soldiers. Imperials wouldn’t charge a fine for messing with them; they’d just shove us out of the way or hit us a lot, and they sure wouldn’t use the term ‘beeswax’ while they do it. Plus they’re wearing their armor backwards."

“And let’s not overlook the most condemning piece of evidence. There are ACTUAL imperial soldiers lying dead and naked in a bush three feet away! Friggin’ bandits. Let’s have some fun with them.”

With that, Stross threw up an illusion while concealed under his cloak.

“What is the meaning of this, you scum-sucking maggots?!” he yelled in his new form, an Imperial Drill Sergeant “Give me your identification code and patrol number this instant!”

“Oh umm, patrol number?” the orc asked, dumbfounded.

“Unbelievable. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, disgracing the Legion like this.” Drill Sergeant Stross shook his head disapprovingly as he slapped the supposed soldier’s improperly worn armor “All of you, drop and give me twenty!”

All three bandits exchanged glances.

“You got cotton wads stuffed in your ears, Private? On the ground before I remove your ocular units and fornicate with your craniums!”

The dim-witted bandits weren’t sure what he’d said, but did as Stross told them anyway. But around the time they’d reached about eighty push-ups, due to losing count at ten and having to start over a few times, a thought finally occurred to the leader.

“Wait a minute… we don’t have to take this.”

“But the Sarge told us to.” one of the others pointed out.

“We’re not even soldiers you idiots.” the orc finally reminded them “So let’s just kill these jerks and take their stuff!”

“YEAH!”

…

“Well that was easy.” Fenora said as sheathed her sword literally twelve seconds later “They must have been tired after all those push-up you made them do.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe they fell for that. I can do anything with that voice.” Stross said before putting his disguise back on a with stupid grin “Hey Fen, drop and give me twenty!”

Fenora frowned back before picking him up, dropping him on the ground, and handing him twenty Septims.

On the way to Riften, they decided to go through Ivarstead on the way. It was still just as boring as they remembered. Though there was one little improvement though.

“Ah hello there, it’s good to see you all again.” a man in a brown tunic walked up to them.

“Wait, is that-?”

“Hey Narfi!” a young dunmer girl ran up to him, hastily pouring some purple liquid into a bottle “I got you some water.”

“Ah, thank you Drizeel.” Narfi took the bottle “I’d like you to meet some friends of mine. This is Stross, he was the one who told me the truth about my sister; really helped me out of that rut I was in. And this is the Dragonborn and her housecarl, Fenora and Lydia.” he introduced them “This is Drizeel, she came into town about a day after you all left; she’s really nice.”

“Narfi, get back up here. These logs won’t chop themselves.” a woman called over from the mill.

“Oh, well I guess it’s back to work. Safe travels.” Narfi said, pocketing the bottle which promptly slipped out without him noticing.

“No! My poison!” Drizeel shrieked as the bottle broke on the ground, covering it with the deadly contents.

“What?” Stross asked.

“Oh umm, nothing!” Drizeel quickly darted away.

“Okay, bad feeling ‘bout this.”

“Hey Narfi,” Stross said as he walked over “I think Drizeel just tried to poison you.”

“What? That’s crazy, she wouldn’t hurt anyone. Now have you seen my axe?” Suddenly a woodcutter’s axe flew past and embedded itself into the wall, half an inch from Narfi’s head.

“Yipe!” Stross ducked out of the way.

“Oh, there it is.” Narfi dislodged the axe and began chopping firewood “Thanks Drizeel!” he waved back to her as she stomped her feet in frustration. “I think she likes me.”

“Oh, no way.”

“Hey, I saw that!” Stross stomped over, Fenora and Lydia joining him. “You were trying to kill him weren’t you?”

“Yeah, and you’re not going to stop me!” she charged over to Narfi and lunged at him, dagger drawn “Hail Sithis!” she screamed as she tried to end his life then and there, regardless of witnesses. But she quickly found her attempts foiled by the fact that Narfi picked up a huge stack of firewood and stepped out of the way, causing her to miss and plunge into the river. Hearing the splash, Narfi looked over to see Drizeel getting swept downriver and over the waterfall.

“Huh, I thought she couldn’t swim. Learn something new every day.” he said obliviously as he continued his work.

“Wow,” Fenora stood there thinking about what she just saw “worst assassin ever.”

“Don’t you think we should do something?” Stross asked.

“I wouldn’t worry.” a random guard walked up to them “This has been going on for days now; she’s tried everything and hasn’t even scratched him.”

“And you’ve just been letting this happen?!”

“Relax, we’re always watching, we’ll step in if we think he’s actually in danger. Drizeel’s not exactly subtle with her attempts after all. In the meantime, it gives the rest of us something to talk about.” as the guard said this, Drizeel tried to crush Narfi with a stack of logs only to end up flattening herself as a trombone played in the background.

“Hah, classic.”

Our heroes continued on their way after finding a way to get Stross to let Narfi’s dumb luck protect him (the way they found was picking up and/or forcefully dragging him away kicking, and screaming about great justice), and they now found themselves outside the water-mounted, and partially flooded city of Venice… New Orleans… Riften.

“Halt,” one of the guards stopped them at the gate “you’ll have to pay a visitors tax if you want to enter the city.”

“Seriously, a visitor’s tax?” Fenora took an annoyed tone “You couldn’t think of a better name for ‘making-up-taxes-‘cause-your-city-needs-money’?”

“Well we tried ‘wallet-shafting’ but that turned too many people away. Now are you going to pay up or what?”

“How much are we paying?” Stross asked.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize.” the guard said quickly when he spotted Stross’s black leather armor “I’ll get the gate open for you, just don’t tell anyone about this okay?”

“Umm, thanks… I think.”

The atmosphere inside the city was… heavier than outside?

Okay let’s be honest, it felt downright dark and even oppressive. Part of it was the bleak colors and the smell that came up from the sewers, but it was also something a bit less obvious. It wasn’t something that could be easily described, but you could feel it in the way the people went about their business, like someone was watching their every move.

As the trio entered the city, they overheard a conversation between a healer and an armored nord.

"I had another run-in with the Thieves Guild." the warrior said with a sneer.

"Please be careful, Mjoll. With Maven backing them up, the Thieves Guild could have you in Riften Jail with one word.” the healer said in a hushed whisper.

"I can't just ignore them, Aerin. They’re the whole reason I'm here, and no one else will stand up to them.” Mjoll said resolutely.

"I know. I just don't want to see you leave or get hurt; you're the only good thing that's happened to this city in a long time."

“Do you think anyone even wants to get out from under the Guild’s thumb?” Mjoll asked her expression wavering.

“Of course they do, but they’re just too scared of what will happen to them. The Thieves Guild has connections, and knows just how to make everyone break down and submit.”

“Excuse me, do you two know where I can find the Thieves Guild?” Stross walked over when he found a good point to enter the conversation “I heard you talking about them and-

“Uhh, I don’t want to deal with this. Pray we don’t meet again.” Mjoll shoved her way past him.

“Mjoll, wait! I’m terribly sorry sir.” Aerin said to Stross with a look of fear etched on his face before pursuing his friend.

“What was that all about?” Stross asked himself as he pulled up his hood.

“Not everyone’s as friendly as you, Stross; we’re dealing with thieves after all.” Fenora told him “Come on, let’s get to the inn, maybe they know something useful.”

As the others made their way across the wooden bridge to the Bee and Barb inn, Stross lagged behind a bit and was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by a large man with a sledgehammer on his back.

“Hey, I’ve never seen you ‘round here before. You new or somethin’?” he asked, sounding nearly as intimidating as he looked.

“Well I haven’t exactly been here before, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“So where exactly did you come from then?”

“Would you believe me if I said I came from a different world?” Stross chuckled.

“Right…” the man said in a sarcastic and unamused tone before leaving, never breaking eye contact with Stross until he was out of sight.

…

Back on the his way to the Bee and Barb, Stross passed by a young man getting extorted by a woman wearing armor similar to the set Stross had found.

"I'm really getting tired of your excuses Shadr. When you borrowed the money, you said you'd pay it back on time and for double the usual fee." she said to him harshly.

"I know I did. But how was I to know the shipment would get robbed? You can’t blame me for that." he defended.

"Next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it." she wagged her finger at him “And I still expect to be paid.”

"Wait, are you telling me you robbed it? Sapphire why? Why are you doing this to me?" Shadr asked in frustration. “I only wanted to get my supplies, what could you have to gain from this?”

“She’s doing it ‘cause she’s into you!” Stross yelled from the door of the inn. “The pain she causes you is her way of flirting; I’m guessing it turns her on or something, but clearly she wants to get her hands on more than just your money if you know what I’m sayin’! If all else fails, just keep yelling at each other until sex happens! Good luck with that!” With his advice given, Stross disappeared inside the inn, leaving Sapphire and Shadr with nearly all of the Riften marketplace staring over at them.

“Sooo… was any of that true? Do you just bully me because you like me?”

“What? No!” Sapphire yelled, still flushed a bright red and twiddling her fingers “L-look, j- just forget what you owe me and get out of here. Never talk to me again, alright. ” she quickly made he escape over the railing.

Shadr stared after her for a few seconds. “Oh yeah, she’s into me.”

Stross entered the Bee and Barb in time to catch the end of a speech by a priest of Mara. It was something about how everyone’s indulgent actions were an affront to the Goddess Mara, that the dragons were back to punish them for their wrongdoings, and they should repent, and also donate money to the church and blah, blah, blah… But Stross couldn’t hear him over the sound of how much everyone didn’t really care. Instead he caught tidbits of other, more interesting conversations while he walked over to the main counter.

“That horse is mine and Svidii knows it. Being in jail doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to pay up.”

…

“Those damn Imperals, they killed my daughter! She was a field medic and they slaughtered her anyway.”

“Father please, it was painful for all of us, but you’re making a scene.”

“Shut up and order some more drinks, boy.”

…

“Did I ever tell you about my great-great-grandfather Valen Dreth? He was in a tutorial!”

…

“I used to be an adventurer… then I took an arrow in-

…

*crack* “My knee!”

“Hey, watch the tables! We can’t use a healing potion on a table.”

…

“I’m not some damn tourguide, especially when you’re talking about those blasted sewer-rats. If you want to buy something, go ahead, otherwise, hit the road.” Stross heard the bartender say when he reached the main counter where Fenora and Lydia were talking to her.

“Look…” Fenora put her hands on the counter and let out a sigh “We all know that the dragons are back. I’m trying to stop them, and the Thieves Guild has something that can help. So we need you to tell us anything you can about them, okay?”

“I hope that’s not true for all our sakes. If they do have something that can save us all, then you can bet that they’ll hang it over our heads and sell it off to the highest bidder.” Keerava said with a sneer before visibly tensing up “Oh, speak of the devils. Why don’t you just ask this clown? He’s one of them.”

“You are?” Fenora asked.

“I am?” Stross said in confusion when he realized they were talking about him.

Before they could delve into the source of the confusion or even find out what the other was talking about, another party interrupted them. “W’ need t’ talk.” a man said in a pseudo-Scottish/ Irish accent “Ootside, naow.” He dragged Stross out with him. Fenora pushed him off and said that only she gets to do that, and continued outside while dragging Stross in the same manner.

“So what did you gentlemen want to- Hurk!” Stross tried to say before he was shoved up against the wall by Sapphire, who came out of the shadows once they were in the alley. She pulled out a switchblade and held it against his scaled neck.

“Oh no, my one weakness; small knives.” Stross said sarcastically, only to flinch at the jolt of electric current that ran through the blade as Sapphire smirked.

“Enchanted switchblades? Are you for real?”

“Oi ahsk tha questions here!” Brynjolf informed him “Now… where-

“Umm, boss?” Maul deadpanned as Fenora held him on the ground in a headlock, Lydia watching in amusement “Little help here.”

“Oh fer croyin’ out… Here.” Brynjolf tossed Fenora a bag of septims “Jus’ take thaht and shut up fer a second.”

“Nice try, but it’ll take more than a bag of gold for me to abandon-

Brynjolf passed her a bottle of mead and an apple pie.

“That’ll do.”

“I just got sold out for pie and booze.”

“Now I-

“Well well, what’s going on in this dark alley?” a guard said with mock-righteousness “I can’t just let someone get beaten up on my watch. It’s a good thing there’s nothing distracting me at the moment… something that would make me look the other way…”

“Grr, fine.” Brynjolf tossed a bag of gold to the guard as well.

“Brynjolf!” an Argonian with bloodshot eyes ran up, twitching uncontrollably “I need another hit. You’ve gotta give me a fix man, I’ll do anything!”

Brynjolf practically punched her with the bottle of skooma. “Take it and go away.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Hey everyone! Thieves Guild is giving out free stuff!” a small child yelled from the entrance of the alley, and within a second a crowd was trying to push their way into the already crowded space.

“Oi! Get the fook outta here fore I give you all a bag of gold up yer arses!” Brynjolf’s head was practically erupting with steam as he yelled at the crowd, quickly causing them to scatter before he whipped back around to face Stross “Where did ya’ get thaht armor?!” he yelled “Only tha guild elite get the baddass black version!”

“I found it on a dead guy.” Stross answered “He was dead when I got there!” he added quickly.

“Where?” Brynjolf growled in his face.

“Ustengrav.”

Brynjolf immediately calmed down and stepped back for a moment, his expression told that he was deep in thought. “Thas’ where lil’ Jimmy was headin’ when he disappeared. What was he after in there? D’ ya know how he died?”

“I don’t.” Stross told him as Sapphire dug her elbow into his gut “We were there yesterday for the horn, so we can fight the dragons. It wasn’t there, so we thought you’d know where it’s at now.”

“Horn… the horn o’ Jurgan Windcaller?” Brynjolf asked and Stross nodded in the affirmative “Tha’ right there’s a myth.”

“No it’s not, the Greybeards told us so. We need it to unlock some hidden potential in Fenroa; she’s the Dragonborn.”

“Sup.” Fenora waved to them as she chewed on a slice of pie, stopping for a moment to heat it up with her Fire Breath shout.

Brynjolf’s eyes widened for a second, then his expression shifted again, this time towards comedy. “Seriously? You’re th’ one who’s gonna save the world from an entire army o’ dragons? Thas’ a bloody joke that is.” he laughed for a while and then looked to his associates “What’re you doin’? Laugh with me like we practiced!”

They awkwardly and half-heartedly did as he said.

“Aw, now ya’ gone and ruined it.” he shook his head before returning to the matter at hand “Look, normally ah’ wouldn’t do this, but th’ world endin’ is real bad fer business if you know what I mean. So we’re all gonna go and have a chat with our Guildmaster ‘bout this. So cover yer eyes, and no peakin’. Our secret entrances are suppos’ ta be secret.”

“Can I at least stab this guy first?” Sapphire asked.

Fenora snatched her knife away “No, no you can’t. And I’m keeping this.”

Sapphire pouted as she followed them all to the Guild Headquarters.

After making their way through a secret entrance in the graveyard, a secret entrance that had a sign on it that said “Secret guild entrance, Shh it’s secret” the six of them found themselves in the Ragged Flagon; a bar built in a sewer. There’s many a joke to be made about that.

Quite a few unfriendly glances were sent our heroes’ way as they entered. Most of them were obviously members of the guild, easily identifiable by their trademark armor.

“Brynjolf, just what in Oblivion do you think you’re doing?” a woman with platinum blonde hair asked as they approached.

“Easy lass, we jus’ need to talk to Mercer, you seen him?”

“I’m right here, and you’d better have a good reason for bringing these people down here... into our hideout… that’s supposed to be secret by the way.” another man said in a frustrated tone as he entered from deeper in the cistern.

“Mercer, I think we’ve stumbled upon a very ripe opportunity here.” Brynjolf began “Right here we’ve got the Dragonborn. You know, th’ one that’ll save the world from the dragons so we can all live to steal another day? And it seems we’ve got somethin’ they need.”

“The horn of Jurgan Windcaller.” Fenora got straight to the point “Do you have it?”

“That depends, what’s it worth to you?” Mercer questioned, working every angle like a used car salesman.

“Show me that you have it and we’ll work out a price.” Fenora countered.

“Make me an offer first and I’ll consider it.”

“Okay, give me the horn and I won’t let Alduin roast you all alive. We’re trying to save Skyrim here.”

“Hah, you think you can scare me into getting what you want? You’re in no position to be making threats when I have what you need.” Mercer said smugly.

“Oh, so you do have it.” Fenora gave a smirk to match “Well then, new offer. You hand it over willingly, and I won’t roast you alive.”

Mercer nearly burst out laughing. “You think you can take on all of us?” he gestured to the guild members gathered around the room.

“No,” Fenora said simply “I think I can kill all of you.”

"Well then you're wrong. Dead wrong!"

And with that, weapons were drawn all around. Though the room was entirely silent save for the sounds of running water and heavy breating, everyone was tensed and ready to strike in a gigantic Mexican Elsweyr stand-off as Fenora and Mercer glared daggers at each other while pointing actual daggers at each other.

“ENOUGH!” Stross yelled as everyone’s weapons were magically ripped from their hands and piled at his feet, multiple people whining in protest about how they were planning on using them. “The horn. Give it to us now, and we’ll pay you lots of money. Simple as that.”

“’fraid it’s not that simple. No amount of gold will help us now, not with this curse.” Another member in black leather chimed in.

“Oh not this again, Delvin.” Mercer face-palmed.

“No disrespect boss, but what other explanation is there? No one just ‘hits a rough patch’ like we ‘ave lately. I don’t know who, but someone’s pissed at us. Don’t none of you remember?” he turned to the rest of the guild “Just a few years ago we had every city in Skyrim plugged in, I’m talkin’ smugglers, agents, and Jarls in our playbook. No one would even dare to steal so much as an apple ‘thout checkin’ with us first. And the Flaggon; this place used to be busier than the Imperial city, and now we’re trippin’ over skeevers and muck instead.”

“It’s a sewer, we were always tripping over skeevers.” Vex noted “What’s your point?”

“My point is the Guild’s fallin’ apart. None of us want to admit it, but it’s the honest truth. We’ve lost the fear and respect we had, and no amount of pinching coin is going to save us at this rate. So instead of paying in gold,” he addressed our heroes “you pay us in favors.”

“What kind of favors?” Stross asked “Party? Sexual? We whack some guys off and you give us cookies?”

“No no, nothin’ like that.” Brynjolf joined the conversation again “Jus’ make some deliveries, bribe some merchants, steal some shiny things. Make people know that the guild ain’t to be taken lightly anymore, and the horn of killin’ dragons is yours. What do ya say?”

Before Stross could make a decision that would undoubtedly send them all across the province, Fenora and Lydia pulled him aside.

“You aren’t actually considering this are you?” Fenora asked.

“I have to agree, everyone under their influence seems to be chafing from it.” Lydia pointed out.

“I know, I’ve seen it too, but we need that horn. What choice do we have?”

Fenora pulled out another fistful of daggers and her eyes darted towards the thieves.

“You know what I mean.” Stross made her put them away “I don’t like the idea of helping them back into power any more than you do, but what they’re asking from us seems pretty harmless at least. Let’s just play along until we get the horn and then we get out.”

“Fine.”

“I have a bad feeling about this, but I will follow you, my thane.”

Returning to the guild members, Stross gave them their answer. “Okay, just tell us what needs to be done.”

“Excellent, ere’s a list of jobs we need doing.” Delven handed Stross the piece of tattered parchment.

“Let’s see here,

-Deliver shipment of watered-down mead to Ivarstead; charge double the normal price.

-Deliver moon sugar to Kahjiit caravans; double normal price.

-Deliver furs (not firs) to Winterhold; blah blah price.

-Rob this guy, bribe that guy, tell the other guy to pay up, steal the literal clothes off that jerk’s back.

-Pay off the bar tabs. All of them.

-And don’t forget to pick up milk.” Stross quickly read down the list in his head. “Alright, seems simple enough.”

“Great, but ‘fore you head oot, grab some uniforms.” Brynjolf directed them to a wooden stand “We can’t have you doin’ work for us ‘thout looking the part.”

“What?”

“You mean you all wear this armor, this very recognizable armor, even when you’re not on the job?” Stross asked.

“Yeah.”

“Even though stealth and remaining anonymous is key when being a thief, and making yourselves so easily recognizable would make tracing any crime back to the guild like ten times easier.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“So you would trade secrecy and the element of surprise for a bigger reputation.”

“Pretty much.”

“Now I know where Chrysalis got her training.”

When they reached the stand that sold the gear they needed, they were greeted by a catchy tune sung by the two salesmen.

“Well brother, they need our services again.”

“It’s fortunate we’re around, ‘cause our gear is full of win.”

“If you need armor, our’s has extra pockets.”

“If you need a certain tool, we make ones with blades and sprockets.”

“If burglary’s your aptitude or you find you need lockpicks,”

“Come to us with bags of coin, you know we have your fix.”

Before they could start up their main chorus, Stross interrupted them, a sudden recognition coming to him as he looked over the barbershop twins with red and white hair. “Wait a minute. Flim and Flam?”

“Those are our names, don’t wear them ou- ou- ou-“ Flim stammered as his brother joined him for a “Huuwhaaaat?”

“How did you know?” Flam grabbed Stross and pulled him face to face, though he would come to immediately regret his decision “Ch… ch- ch- ch- CHANGELING!” the two of them shrieked like elderly ladies.

“They’ve found us, run for it brother!”

“Right behind you brother.” they ripped open a portal and jumped through.

“Wait! We still need ta convince everyone thaht this watered dune hot-sauce is Falmer blood elixir!” Brynjolf yelled as they disappeared. “Oh thaht there is jus’ great! Now we gotta go back to buyin’ our gear from that guy!”

“Not enough cash, stranger.” the hooded figure said in his gravelly voice.

“What if we traded you these herbs and skooma?” Fenora asked.

“I’ll buy that at a… high price.” the merchant laughed at his joke.

Thieves Guild errands and Greybeard drunken debauchery ahoy!

Beer is sacred in Skyrim.

Why do I say that? Because it’s true. When Skyrim’s denizens aren’t drunk, they’re either asleep, or pissed off. Why do you think bandits are always hijacking shipments and robbing travelers? Why do you think everyone’s always hanging out at the inns? Why do you think the Jarls and their court officials always have a private stash of the stuff?

That’s right, forget laws and the guards; alcohol keeps the peace mother-flipper!

You think that the civil war in Skyrim was started over the banning of Talos worship? Fuck no! That was just collateral damage! The real reason was because those namby-pamby High Elves in the Altmeri Dominion wanted to ban Nord mead in favor of their fancy wine and tea. TEA! And I’m not talking about that sweetened iced tea with lemon and strawberry goodness-in-a-can that you can buy for a septim at your local Seven-Eleven – Skyrim branch. NO! I’m talking about the kind you put in a kettle and brew it, then sip it while eating crumpets and talking to other rich snobs. No one was going to stand for that. Not Ulfric Stormcloak, not the true sons and daughters of Skyrim, and certainly not Maven Black-Brier!

Why am I mentioning this? Because on their way out of the city, hauling about a dozen crates of assorted illegal or stolen merchandise, our heroes were stopped by Maven, who had a job for them.

Apparently there was a honey farm outside of town that stopped sending shipments to her, and a rival meadery outside of Whiterun that was edging in on her turf. She said that not only would she pay them if they helped “Straighten things out”, but she would also put in a good word for them with the guild, AND she would sell them her brand of mead for half off. So naturally, Fenora agreed for all of them.

The mission was going about as well as expected.

“Oh no, not the bees! NOT THE BEES!” Stross screamed as he ran around, covered in honey and flailing his arms at the offending swarm “AHH they’re in my eyes! MY EYES! WAHHHGG! BLARG! BLEEH!”

“Stop running around!”

“Get him!”

“Never should have come here.”

“I have the shiniest meat-bicycle!” a small army of mercenaries chased him around in circles.

“Stross, head for the water!” Lydia yelled as she picked up the rear of the crowd “That’s not the water; that’s a bear!”

…

“Well this is going better than last time I was here.” Vex said to Fenora as they slipped inside the main building.

“Let’s just find this guy, beat his ass till he’s on our side again, get out, and get paid.” Fenora said as she marched down the recently vacated halls.

Vex’s eyes popped open for a second at what she’d just heard. “Wait, really?” She asked in bewilderment. “You’re not going to drink yourself into a stupor first? Screw around with the guards? Not even vandalize some property?”

“No, I’m on the job right now. Why do you ask-

Vex quickly hugged her from behind, lightly crying tears of pure joy into the back of Fenora’s hood. “You are the first newbie in the guild to take things seriously.” she sobbed “Thank you so much Fenora, I love you… no homo.”

“Umm… okay.”

For like the fifteenth time that week, Fenora checked to make sure that she wasn’t wearing an amulet of Mara.

Quietly, Fenora pressed an empty glass up against the door of the master bedroom. There was a significant amount of shuffling, and creaking as floorboards bent under the weight of someone’s feet. From the frequency of it, it seemed there was only one person in the room, nervously pacing back and forth. Relaying this information to Vex via exaggerated hand signals, Fenora then stood up and kicked in the door.

The elf in fine clothes on the other side nearly clung to the ceiling in fright. He flung the half empty wine bottle he was holding at the intruders and scrambled for a bow on his nightstand.

Fenora, with her Spiderman-like reflexes, caught the bottle and threw it back, nailing Aringoth in the head. He collapsed on the floor just a couple feet short of his bed.

“Alright Aringoth, why’ve you stopped your shipments to Maven?” Fenora asked as she held him against a nearby wall.

“Because you thugs are always extorting money from me and I’m sick of it! How’s that?”

“So you decide to piss off our clients?” Vex countered him “I’ve seen you live a nice cushy life even with us in charge of it. And rather than stay in line, you’d rather hire an army of mercs to hide behind while you give us the finger.”

“It’s not like I had a choice, the deal I got wasn’t exactly one I could refuse.”

“What deal? Who are you working for?” Fenora demanded.

“Hah, if I told you, I might as well slit my own throat to make it quicker.” Aringoth told them sullenly “I only ever wanted to get rich selling honey, and then live out my life as a rich, womanizing, loose-cannon drunk. But you guild rats couldn’t just let me run my business in peace, and now look where I am. I don’t even control my own bee farm anymore. I’m between a knife and a hard place, dead either way and it’s all your fault!”

“Look,” Fenora put him on the ground again “I’m kinda new here, but I have a job to do and it’s not destroying everything you’ve worked for; it’s saving Skyrim. I need the Guild’s help to do that, so we’re taking back Goldenglow with or without your permission. You can either give it to us willingly and we can protect you, or you can make a run to the border yourself.” Fenora gave her ultimatum.

Aringoth gave a lengthy sigh as he straightened out the wrinkles in his clothes. “Fine, here’s the key to the safe downstairs, it has the original bill of sale. But I expect you to follow through with your end of the deal; I do NOT want to take a bite of poison with my bowl of Corn Flakes.”

“Ow… Ow… Ow… Ow- OW! You hit me!” Stross yelled.

“Well stop complaining so much.” Fenora retorted as she dabbed a mix of healing potion and anti-venom on Stross’s multiple bee stings and bear wounds.

“Thanks for your help. I’ll get this back to the guild, see if we can identify this mark.” Vex looked over the bill of sale as she disappeared into a wall.

“So what now?” Lydia asked as she looked up at the afternoon sun shining out from behind a cloud.

“Well, I have an idea.” Fenora said as a sly grin came across her face.

“No.” Stross said plainly.

“What? Why not, it’s such a good idea.”

“Because it would never work, they’d find me. Then they’d tie me to a rock and throw me in a lake, and we still wouldn’t have that stupid horn.” Stross reasoned.

“What are you two talking about over there?” Lydia asked.

“Fen wants me to turn into Mercer and ransack their headquarters until I find Jurgan’s horn.” Stross explained “Which I will not be doing, by the way.”

You could practically see Fenora’s face go blank in disbelief. “Stross, you can turn into anyone you want! What’s the point of having powers like that if you’re not going to abuse them for your own personal gain? And by the way, I wanted you to kill Mercer too; that guy is such a dick.”

“The point is to use them responsibly, only to survive and do good unto others. Too many of my kind back in Equestria have let themselves become the killers and soul-eating monsters that we’ve become feared for.” Stross scolded “There was one that I found that had killed a mare’s husband and taken his form, then went to the poor guy’s home and syphoned his wife to death in front of their kids, then ate them too.”

Fenora and Lydia couldn’t hide their shocked expressions as they listened.

“And do you know what the worst part is?” Stross asked them “I arrived too late to help the family, but confronted him anyway. I called him a monster, told him what he did was abhorrent. He just turned to me and said, ‘No… this is just another Tuesday’!”

Stross had to breathe deeply to calm himself.

“Can either of you understand why I don’t want to start treading that slippery slope? I try to think that I was one of the good ones, a changeling that didn’t mercilessly end ponies’ lives just because I could. I don’t care if these people are thieves, I don’t want to be a monster anymore.”

“So be a hero instead.” Fenora gave him a slap on the back “Do some bad stuff to bad people, and save everyone else’s butts from the big scary dragons.”

“Weeeeellll… when you put it like that…”

About an hour later, Fenora was called back to the Flagon by one of the other Guild members wandering the streets of Riften. When she arrived, Stross and the rest of the guild were there to greet her, and none of them looked happy.

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” Stross said glumly as he held an ice pack to his swollen eye. “Oh and by the way-

A potted plant hit Fenora in the side of her head with an audible shatter.

“Vex wants a word with you.”

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” she yelled as she tackled Fenora to the ground.

“I’ll protect you my tha- *thwip* oh… never mind.” Lydia fell over, unable to move.

Vex threw down her blow-gun and went back to pinning Fenora, not an easy task by the way. “No one steals from the Thieves Guild, especially our own!” Vex said in a rage as she wrestled her into a headlock. But then her expression broke down a little, and her eyes started tearing up “I thought you were cool! You were like my sister for two and a half hours, no one else has ever even come close to that!” she wailed as her chokehold turned into more of a sorrowful cuddle-hug “How could you do this to us?”

“Vex…” Fenora said as she gently pulled Vex off of her and cradled her cheek. *SMACK* “What the flying fuck do you mean ‘how could I do this’?”

Vex stared up at Fenora, still reeling from the pimp-slap from Oblivion she’d just received.

“I’m the dragonborn! I’m trying to save Skyrim- no- all of Nirn, and everyone in it including all of you pricks! You have the horn for crying out loud; I won’t stand a chance against Alduin and his army without it, and you still want us to do this stupid laundry-list of chores before we can prevent the literal destruction of our world!” she belted at them, her last word punctuated by a burst of thu’um.

“Nah take it eesy thar, lass.” Brynjolf tried to intervene “None o’ us want the world t’ go kah-bloowy, but whe’d still liek a nice grip on eh for when it’s saved. Tha’ ain’t too moch to ahsk for, is it?”

The glare Fenora gave him said that yes, yes it was.

“Look, this isn’t negotiable.” Mercer walked to the front of the now terrified crowd “We’re offering a service to you, and you’re paying for it with favors. You’ll get what you need, after that’s done and not before.”

“I believe you have this backwards, Guild Master.” Fenora called his title with venom dripping from her voice “I’m the one offering you the service. That service is protection against the coming storm for you, your guild, and all those you would ever steal from or exploit. And I want my payment up front.”

Sunglasses appeared over her eyes, an eagle landed on her shoulder, and two tankers full of gasoline exploded behind her and she didn’t turn around to look at it. That’s how awesome Fenora was right now.

Yet somehow Mercer still had the courage to stare her down for another full second before relenting. “Fine.” he spat “But you’ll need to wait a while I get it back.”

“Get it back?”

“I don’t keep an artifact like stuffed in a chest in a sewer. I kept it safe in a secret stash that no one knows about but me. I’ll be back in a couple of days. In the meantime, finish up those tasks I gave you.” he said as he turned to leave “And one more thing, we found out who bought Goldenglow; an Argonian by the name of Gulum-ei, in Solitude. There’ll be a bonus in it for you if you find out why.”

“Let me guess, that ‘secret stash’ is in your grandma’s house, under your old mattress.”

Mercer instantly froze mid-step for a second before swiftly continuing to his private quarters to gear up while mumbling “Clever girl.”

“Hurk! Gah! Okay, that’s the last of them, let’s get going to Ivarstaed.” Stross said as he and the others finished loading the crates onto the carriage.

“Ivarstead?” the driver did a double-take “What kind of drugs are you on? I can only take you to the hold capitols; cities like Windhelm and Whiterun, or Solitude. I don’t know about the other drivers who’ll let you stop at places, but I can’t just drive you out into the middle of nowhere and-

Fenora threw him a bag of septims.

“And I have no idea what I was just talkin’ about, hop on.”

“Doesn’t it seem like you can solve any problem just by throwing a bag of gold at it?” Stross asked rhetorically. Fenora’s eyes lit up and she smiled a bit, but just as she was about to say something, Stross cut her off. “No I don’t think we could do that with the dragons. You’re welcome to try though, I’ll just watch from a distance.”

“Stross, I hate your logic, you cheeky bug.”

“Heh heh, aww I hate things about you too, you angry drunk.” Stross said endearingly “I didn’t mean it I didn’t mean it, by Celestia, I didn’t mean it!”

Stross knocked on the metal door to the monastery perched atop the Throat Of The World, the sound echoing throughout the stone chambers within. He was surprised to see a crate addressed to the Greybeards, but seeing as they were in Ivarstead anyway, Stross decided to pay them a visit, maybe show them the inscriptions he’d found in the tombs. What puzzled him though were the contents of the crates. When he peaked inside he only found some bottles of small tablets, herbs, and various colored liquids; all of them simply marked with a smiley face.

“Ah it’s you, please, come in.” Master Arngeir greeted him “What brings you back to High Hrothgar?”

“Well, for one I’ve got this crate for you.” Stross set in on the floor of the main chamber.

“Excellent, and not a moment too soon.” Arngeir said excitedly as he and two others unpacked the crate, taking the bottles into the meditation areas and training grounds “I assume the Guild will be expecting payment for these, tell them ‘our prayers on their behalf are on the way’.” he gave a wink and thumbs up.

“Actually, that’s the other reason I came up here. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Did they tell you? They told you didn't they? Fine I'll admit it. Yes, the Thieves Guild pays us in whatever we ask for, and we use our thu’ums to send lighting storms at people they don’t like.” Argeir told him “I know it looks bad, especially with what we preach about the Way of The Voice. But come on, how else are we supposed to get food and other essentials up here?”

“Oh umm, well this is awkward.” Stross scratched the back of his head “You see, I was actually hoping for some guidance or advice on a moral dilemma I’ve been hoping to resolve.”

“I guess the Thieves Guild wasn’t lying when they said they used to have all of Skyrim in their pocket.”

“Well then, this is awkward.” Arngeir gave a small cough “Umm… okay, maybe we can still help you out. Come with us.” Arngeir led him into a hallway that ended in a dead end. Flipping open one of the statue heads, he pulled a lever which opened a secret passage that was all but hidden in the rock. Beyond was… a disco themed bar with a turntable blasting dubstep?

“Essentials huh?” Stross said as he looked around the room, from the displays of various drugs and alcoholic beverages, to the hookers and hot-tubs. And is that a moose?

“Yep… E-sentials.” Arngeir stated matter-o-factly as he went behind the bar table and started mixing some drinks “So what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, I’ve been kind of conflicted since I came to Skyrim. You see in Equestria, the land of colorful small horses where I’m from, there’s practically no such things as crime. Ever since the beginning of Celestia’s rule, the ponies there have known nothing but peace, well… with exception of the occasional world ending disaster.” Stross explained as Arngeir handed him a margarita “But what I mean is they’re all so innocent and full of love. For crying out loud, they randomly burst into song, they think a bunny stampede is a cataclysm, and the first law that they ever put into place was ‘thou shalt love and tolerate’.”

“So, it would seem our worlds are quite different.” Arngeir gave a knowing nod and continued to listen.

Stross sighed. “You could say that again. I’m a changeling; a race of creatures that survives by feeding off the emotional energy that comes from the very essence of someone’s being. In my world that makes us monsters, deceivers, and at the worst… soul-eating killers; at least in the eyes of our prey, and unfortunately it’s the truth far more often that I’d like.” Stross took a sip of his drink, and immediately sputtered out a long wheezy cough at the sting of the alcohol “But I never wanted to be like that.” Stross said as he recovered “I always tried to be a good changeling, however I could. I’ve always lived my life doing as little harm as possible, and as much good as I could. And this is where I’ve run into my problem.”

“You’ve been having trouble acclimating to our world and its ways of violence and corruption.” Arngeir took an educated guess.

“Well...Yes and no.” Stross said as he sat up straighter “There are a lot of good people in Skyrim, I’ve even helped a few. But it seems like for every good person, there’s at least four bandits or selfish jerks. More than once I’ve looked at a person and though they would be outstanding as a changeling.”

“I know of what you speak. Stay away from Markarth if ya’ know what I’m sayin’. Gallus, the old master of the Thieves Guild put it best. ‘Everyone in this world wants something, and they will do whatever it takes to get it.’ though he immediately followed it up with ‘So they might as well get it from me at twice the normal price’.” Arngeir grinned and slowly shook his head “But I sense that this is not your quandary.”

“Well, now’s as good a time as any to tell someone.”

“This was always in the back of my mind, even before coming here, and being on this quest with Fenora has really been making me think about it.” He took a serious tone and looked Argeir in the eyes “With my shape-shifting powers I can turn into anyone I want, and I can literally rip out people’s souls and use them to extend my own life; I could very well undermine every government on the planet if I wanted to, or even live forever.”

Stross relaxed and averted his eyes “I’m talking in extreme cases here. I’d never do anything like that, and the chances of me becoming the immortal king of Nirn are really slim with all the things that could go wrong. But the fact is,” he turned back to the leader of the Greybeards “I have these powers, and I’m afraid to use them. I want to spend my life doing good; I want to protect my friends, I don’t want to become a monster like so many others of my kind, but I’m always fearful of falling down that path. And because of this, the last two times Fenora needed my help I couldn’t even bring myself to kill the people whaling on us until she was actually dying. I’m so ashamed of myself and I just don’t know what to do. I’m kind of reluctant to ask after seeing all… this.” he gestured to the party room they were in, including the Orcish stripper that was clearly coming on to him “But what do you think, Master Arngeir? What should I do?”

Arngeir just gave him a black stare before his “wise old man” act crumbled away completely. “Well personally, I think you’re just bein’ a pussy.”

“What?”

Arngeir nodded “Yo Paarthurnax, you been listening to all this?”

At that moment a dragon pushed open a window and stuck his head in and spoke in two languages like a Dora the Explorer dragon. “(Een deed) You know I did. I see you’re all still (par ti en haard).”

“Holy spit!” Stross yelled as he hid behind the bar “How are you people not freaking out right now?”

“(Cuul yir trou serz) Calm yourself, I am on your side.” Paarthurnax reassured him “And I have heard of your (stu peed kraap), your moral plight. I would aid you, but alas, (ie got beh tir theens tuudo), I cannot provide the answers you seek. It is a something you must discover yourself.” Paarthurnax handed Stross a bag of green herbs with his massive talons “Take this (mah ruu wahna), mind relaxer. It will help you to (fih ger eet owt), allow your thoughts to flow more freely, just as it has for my acolytes, (tha duum faaks).

The Greybeards and several party guests watched as Stross chased the lights from the disco ball across the walls while incoherently screaming things like “I’m gonna get you this time you glittering bastard!” and “Why are there flapjacks on my face?!”

“I didn’t expect him to smoke the entire bag at once.” one commented.

“He didn’t, remember? He just opened the bag up and swallowed it.” another reminded them.

“Still, it is most amusing (fuh kin hi laree os).”

“When do you think it will wear off?” Lydia asked as Fenora sipped a pina-colada.

“Another hour maybe. When did you get here, dragonborn?”

“A few minutes ago.” Lydia answered for Fenora as she was enraptured by Stross’s antics “My thane, are we going to question why the Greybeards have a dragon?”

“Later. Must watch silliness.”

Lydia let out a sigh and went to get some popcorn.

…

On the other end of the bar, an unusual crowd were talking to one another.

“Oh come now Palagius, cheer up!” a man wearing a multicolored suit said as he toasted a mug with a chicken leg in it with a Draconequus holding a champagne glass of chocolate milk.

“How can I cheer up, so many buffoons and naysayers slandering me; I’ll have to have the headsman work overtime.” Palagius said solemnly.

“Oh lighten up, will you? It’s a party.” Sanguine said as he fondled a pair of strippers on either side of him.

“Yeah!” a girl with hair like cotton candy joined in as she blew a streamer and confetti at Palagius “This is the best, how can you not be loving it?”

Palagius just sighed and face-planted into a boiled cream treat, leaving the mood rather sour for the rest of them as well. But as Stross crashed into the bar a few stools down, the draconequus floated over, his interest piqued.

“Well hello there,” he said jubilantly only to get a low moan in response “Oh for crying out loud” he dumped a waterful of bucket on Stross and repeatedly slapped him with a herring until he was awake.

“NO MOMMY I DON’T WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL!” Stross yelled as he woke with a start.

“Wait isn’t that-? How did he get here? Well I guess it makes as much sense as everything else he does.” Stross managed to piece together a coherent thought in his recovering mind.

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Discord sat himself and Stross on a talkshow stage “I didn’t expect to see a changeling in Skyrim, and merely wanted to have a conversation. So what brings you here all the way from Equestria?” he lay on the desk, his head resting in his forepaws.

“Umm… a teleport spell misfired. It was all ‘poof’ and sent me all ‘zoom!’ all the way here. Drained me to an inch of my life and dropped me in woods somewhere.” Stross answered, not knowing what else he would tell the Equestrian god of chaos.

“Oh dear, that seems to be happening quite a lot in the multiverse these days.” Discord said with feigned concern “It’s been getting the incarnations of a certain Timelord all in a tizzy.” he chuckled “But if you like, I could send you right back to where you were. Just a snap of my fingers and poof! You’re back!” Discord held up a small movie screen playing out the scene he’d just described, ending with a confetti-filled victory once Stross arrived home.

“But what’s waiting for me there, what would I be leaving behind? And there’s still-

“Thanks for the offer, really. But I have to stay here, new friends need help defeating the dragons and stuff.” Stross told him as he got up, the talkshow chair disappearing as he left it.

“Oh suit yourself. But first,” Discord reached behind Stross’s hood and pulled out that bone M’aiq gave him “Look what I found Pelagius.” Disord sing-songed “Now you can finally be… hip again. BAWWHAWHAWHAW!” Discord pounded on the table as he laughed despite the joke’s non-existent effect on the manifestation of the dead emperor’s mind.

“He really could have sent me back if he wanted too, but I meant what I said. I have to stay, for this world, for Fen.”

“Well duh you have to stay!” the cotton candy haired girl popped up next to him, nearly making him fall out of his seat “How would Fenora beat the dragons without you? I’ll tell you how, the way you normally do in vanilla Skyrim; boooorrring. The readers don’t want that, they want excitement, and comedy, and references, and a hot steamy love-scene at the end. But the writer can’t do clop to save his life, so that last one’s never gonna happen.” she said in a loud whisper, and Stross was under the impression that he was no longer the one she was talking to.

And I can too write clop scenes… I’m just embarrassed about it… Go away.

“Don’t worry Erised, I won’t tell everyone that it’s because you’ve never actually had sex before. Your secret is safe with me.”

Dammit Pinkie!

“Umm who are you taking to?” Stross asked, completely unaware of my virgin status being publically announced.

“Oh don’t worry about that.” Pinkie shrugged it off like it was nothing, when it was very much something to me “Hey you’re a changeling right; can you turn in to me?” she put on a big hopeful grin.

“Umm, yeah, but why?”

“To redeem your species! Prove you can pull off a decent impersonation of the best party pony that was ever named Pinkie!”

Startled by her outburst, Stross took a split second to concentrate on her form and another to build up the power for his spell. In a whirl of flame the illusion was complete, and standing in his place was a mirror image of the humanized Pinkie Pie.

“Aww man, why’s it so hard about for you little guys to get me right?” Pinkie said sadly, clearly disappointed by Stross’s copy that was identical in every way.

“It’s probably because you can’t beat the original.” Pinkie-Stross told her “That’s how good you are, any attempt to make a perfect copy just feels like a blatant rip-off.”

This brought a smile to Pinkie as she started tearing up. “Aww, Fenora’s lucky to have you, you know that?”

Suddenly her eyes popped open and she started moonwalking. “Oops, gotta go!” she said as she nonchalantly tore a hole between dimensions and jumped through saying “Moonwalking means that Equestria needs saving from a giant marshmallow man.”

You know what's another name for a bad dream?

Darkness surrounded Stross’s weightless changeling form as he aimlessly drifted through an endless void.

“Am I dreaming again? I am? Great... just great. There's a reason I choose not to sleep, you know.”

His complaining was interrupted by a bright light shining before him, opening to the view of his past self. He lay on his back atop a rickety bed attached to one of three smooth grey walls. To his front was a wall of thick iron bars that matched the ones on the small window to his right. Outside the cell, a Pegasus guard in gold armor lazily stood at attention.

“Oh great, which time was this that they captured me?”

“Alright Hailstorm, I’m here for my shift.” A firm but feminine voice called from the side.

Both Stross’s actual conscious and his dream form perked up as he listened to her approach.

“Sure thing Swift, it’s all yours.” The Pegasus guard said before happily leaving. Taking his place was an earth-pony that Stross remembered well.

Once he was sure the other guard was well out of earshot, Stross walked over to the bars to greet her. “Hey there Swift, good to see you again.” He said in a chipper tone.

“Ah Swift Strike, you were the only guard that could stand to even talk to me while you had me cooped up. I just wish things hadn't gone the way they did.”

“You realize I’m not supposed to talk to you, right?” Swift said in a slow, even tone “According to regulation seven dash three, amendment four; any changeling prisoners are not to be interacted with under any circumstances, in order to prevent the risk of changeling mind control.” Swift Strike broke her professional stature and cracked a smile “But even so, I can’t just let you starve in there either, now can I?”

“Only if you got sick of talking with me.” Stross joked as he leant his head though the bars.

Swift smirked and pulled off her helmet, the uniform’s enchantment coming off with it to reveal her fur’s true shade of sky blue. Her curly white mane fell just past her shoulders as she discarded her helmet entirely and brought Stross’s face to hers. She closed her eyes and gently pushed her lips against those of her changeling prisoner, enjoying the feel of his smooth scales for a moment before pushing through with her tongue.

“What would I have ever done without you there?” Stross reminisced in the days he was held in that prison just outside Canterlot. Unlike the previous times he was captured and written off as some kind of beast or mutant, this was after Chrysalis had invaded, and changelings were now a legitimate threat in the eyes of the pony populace. The first few days in that place were easily the worst, the interrogations making it so. Who knew wet noodles could hurt so badly?

After they’d gotten nothing out of him, they’d resigned to simply have him executed and be done with it. But it would seem that the paperwork was lost in the black-hole of bureaucracy, and Stross had spent nearly a month testing his cell for weak spots, learning the guard’s patrols, and thinking of any possible way to escape before his time was up.

One day, Stross had collapsed from his energy reserves finally running dry. Luckily, Swift Strike had been there, and though Stross hated himself for it, he used a changeling influence spell on her, forcing her to save him. Within seconds she had rushed into his cell, smothering him with her love and bringing him back from the brink.

Now, Stross knew he could have escaped then and there, all he'd need to do is take her form and walk right out. But that would mean leaving her behind to take all the blame, and he just couldn't bring himself to do that to her. So instead he stayed behind and promised himself that he’d find some way to make it up to her. He made a copy of the cell’s key with his resin for when he needed to escape, threw himself back onto his rickety bed, and began to think of something nice he could do for the mare that (unwillingly) saved his life.

It was actually pretty easy to get started; a simple compliment after a couple of the other guards had teased her about being a mare in the royal guard, and a small smile her way. After that day they would share a conversation every now and then, and even a few games of cards when nopony was watching. In their time together, Stross had learned a great deal about Swift; how she liked the smells of forests, about the time when she was a filly she jumped out of a wagon trying to get her hat back, and how she had a daughter that she was raising on her own after her husband left her.

Stross even learned that Swift had wanted to become a guard since she was a filly, but got teased for it all the time because “Mares aren’t supposed to be guards, Swifty”, as everypony had told her. So in the end she signed up more out of spite than fulfilling a dream. She also said that she loved to talk with him, because he didn’t look down on her for having different opinions about how things were or how things should be; she could just talk to him and he would listen.

It felt to Stross like he’d made a real friend, or even something more, and that she felt the same way. Perhaps that was what convinced her to keep him alive and happy while he was supposedly waiting to be killed, and Stross was extremely glad for it. A little company can go a long way when you’re locked in a cell, even though he technically volunteered to stay in there.

What Stross “forgot” to mention to her was that she didn’t actually have to kiss him in order for him to absorb energy from her, but judging by the way she noisily swished her tongue around inside his mouth and pulled him as close as the bars would allow while they kissed, it likely wouldn’t have changed anything if he had.

“Oi! Would you two knock it off over there! I‘m tryin’ to think angry thoughts!”

“Oh by Celestia, that guy.”

Crookshank was the only other prisoner in that wing of the prison, and he was nasty. Sentenced to death for the murder of a family of four, Crookshank was the most criminally psychotic pony Stross ever had the displeasure of knowing, even from a distance. On the first few days, Crook had done nothing but endlessly repeat demented nursery rhymes about how screwed Stross was. It would have driven him crazy if the guards hadn’t eventually put a stop to it.

“Be quiet over there.” Swift snapped at him.

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?” Crook taunted “Or are you too busy snogging your little monster coltfriend? You know he’s not your stinkin’, good for nothin’, cheat of a husband; no matter how much you want him ta be.” He said with a wickedly mocking grin.

Swift froze for a second. “What… did you say?”

“Swift? Are you okay?” Stross put a hoof on her shoulder.

“That business-pony left you for a darn good reason if you ask me. No stallion would want some tom-colt guard for a wife.” Crook threw over casually.

“Oh, not this again. Please don’t make me watch this… don’t walk over there…”

Swift stomped over to give him a piece of her mind. “Now you listen here, you criminal scum! If you thin-”

She didn’t get to finish before a shank made of a splintered bedpost was shoved into her neck.

“Oh, what’s that? I’ve been pardoned from my death sentence? Well thank you kindly.” Crook sarcastically sneered as he took the keys to his cell from Swift while she bled out “Don’t bother escorting me out, I’ll just make my own exit.”

“NOOOO! SWIFT! Someone get in here and stop this guy!” Stross yelled from over at his cell.

“What’s the matter bug? Can’t live without your precious little guardmare?” Crook chuckled and kicked Swift in the stomach, making her bleed even faster before he dashed out the door.

Stross called for help several times, but his voice was drowned out by the shouting coming from outside the seclusion wing. It seemed as though Crookshank was giving the rest of the guards the fight of their lives. They would all be too occupied to even realize Swift was in danger.

Then a small movement caught Stross’s eyes. He looked up to see Swift Strike roll over to face him, her whole body covered in her own blood.

“Swift! Just hold on, please!” He called over to her. Remembering the key he'd made, he scrambled to unlock the cell door and rush to her side, kneeling down beside her and taking her in his hooves.

Swift looked up at him through the tears in her eyes and tried to say something, but it was lost as blood flooded her mouth and throat. Slowly and weakly she reached out to him, still choking on blood as she did. With the last of her strength she smiled, reaching up to touch his face and unintentionally smearing it with blood before her eyes closed and she went limp.

“Swift, stay with me. I can’t lose you.” Stross said softly as he focused his magic on the mare in his hooves “You’ve been so kind to me, and given me so much love…” Stross began to glow as he channeled his own life force into Swift. “Let me give it back to you.”

The giant puncture wound in Swift’s neck and windpipe began to close as Stross healed her, and in a few long minutes, it had closed completely.

Stross was exhausted after using up so much of his power, but all that mattered to him was Swift. He felt for a heartbeat, breathing a sigh of relief when he felt a faint thumping in her chest; she was going to be okay.

“St- Stross?” Swift Strike groaned as she came to.

Stross smiled down at her. “Yeah. Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine now.”

“Stross… I love you.”

Stross would have been overjoyed to here this from here, were it not for the green glow he saw emanating from her eyes. When he did, any happiness he’d had vanished in an instant and he broke down crying.

“Stross… what’s-“

“You don’t love me, not really.” Stross told her, the words themselves hurt as he said them “I completely forgot. I can't believe I forgot. My spell has been on you this whole time, Swift. That’s what made you love me, it wasn’t real.”

“No…” Swift cupped his face with her hoof “Stross, that can’t be true. I do love you.”

Stross looked at her as more tears spilled down his face. “I’m sorry.” His horn lit up, dispelling any lingering magic he may have held over her.

When he looked back at Swift, her expression had changed from one of happiness and joy to one of confusion and inner conflict. She softly pushed away from him, and with an absent-minded expression, she walked out of the room.

Then something unexpected happened. Not in the memory, but to Stross himself. He was pulled from his body as the entire scene froze before him, with Swift Strike leaving through an open door, and his past self lying in a heap on the floor, crying to his eyes out.

In his confusion he accidently passed right through a nearby wall like a ghost.

“What the- What’s going on?” he asked to no one in particular.

“You are in a dream.” a voice rang out “You are one I have sought to find for quite some time.”

“Who’s there?” Stross frantically looked around for the source of the disembodied voice. Then, a ripple appeared in the dream, and in a shimmer of light, a midnight blue alicorn stood before him.

“Princess Luna? What the what?” Stross said, baffled at the presence of the Princess of night.

“Do not be afraid, changeling-“

“Stross, my name’s Stross. What are you even doing here?”

“Oh, okay then Stross. Do not be afraid, and…” Princess Luna took a deep breath “NEVER INTERRUPT ME AGAIN IF YOU VALUE YOU LIFE!” she yelled in her signature Royal-Canterlot-voice.

“Oh-kay then… what do you what from me?” Stross asked after recovering from the verbal onslaught as well as the sadness he felt from reliving another bitter memory “No offence but I thought that since I wasn’t in Equestria, I wouldn’t have to deal with you or your sister anymore. Kinda’ outside your jurisdiction if you know what I’m saying.”

“That may be true. But we know of the havoc changelings can wreck, and neither I nor my sister will allow any world to fall into chaos because of our negligence.” Luna told him with her stoic expression “Now that I’ve finally found you, I can bring you back to Equestria so you can’t do any further harm.”

Stross immediately tried to defend himself “I’m not doing any har- Okay maybe I have been just a little. But I’m not doing evil changeling things to- Well I guess I did Syphon all those bandits and vampires to death. Well at least I’m being a good- On second thought I’m allied with the Thieves Guild now sooooo…”

Luna looked quite unamused.

“Okay, okay, okay. Just hear me out.” Stross begged.

Luna gave him a stare that said “I am listening, but quickly losing my patience.”

“Alduin the dragon god of time is raising his army of evil dragons to destroy the world. Fenora is Dragonborn, the only person capable of stopping the dragons once and for all. I’ve been helping her since it all started, and together we’re saving the world with the power of friendship… also magic and swords.”

Luna stood there rubbing her chin in thought before looking back up at Stross. She looked over at the dreamscape, particularly at Stross crying over Swift Strike leaving, even after he sacrificed his own life essence to revive her. She then turned back to him and said not a single word, but placed her hooves on both his shoulders.

“Uhh, your highness? What are you do- OW!” Was all Stross could say before the Princess of night head-butted him and the world snapped to white.

“Gah!” Stross’s eyes shot open and he fell backwards, hitting his head on a stone tablet. The snowy landscape, brown dirt, and greyish blue skies greeted him as he rubbed his aching head, and a steady counting greeted his ears as he saw a pair of familiar faces approach.

“1068… 1069… 1070 and 71…”

Stross smiled as he watched the silver-haired Bosmer approach with a ragged looking Lydia following behind.

“Hah!” Fenora exclaimed as she jumped triumphantly on the stone step nearest to the end of the path “That’s only one-thousand and seventy-six steps, and only four-thousand four-hundred and eighty-one actual footsteps! Seven-thousand steps indeed, what a scandal!”

“Did you actually walk all the way down the mountain just to count how many steps it takes?” Stross staggered over to her.

“Four times!” Lydia yelled as she collapsed.

“So what’s up with you? Have a nice nap there, Mr. Party-hard?” Fenora chuckled.

“Weeeellll…” And then Stross let his calm demeanor fall apart. “The dream police live inside my head! They're coming to arrest me, OH NO!” he yelled as he gripped onto Fenora for dear life.

Fenora lifted Stross’s chin up to look him in his buggy blue eyes… and promptly slapped him.

“Snap out of it man! Now tell me what happened.”

*ONE PANICKED EXPLANATION LATER*

“Dang Stross, how many girlfriends have you had?” Fenora said, feeling a bit jealous.

“Did you not hear what I said about the Princess of night wanting to drag me back to Equestria and away from you!?”

“Right… that’s not going to happen.” Fenora told him confidently “Stross, you’re my changeling. If some namby-pamby pony Princess wants to take you, then they’ll have to go through me. Or more correctly, I’ll have to go through them.”

“IS THAT A FACT!?” an all too familiar voice yelled at them.

Turning around, the three of them found Princess Luna standing there with a very angry look on her features.

“You dare to not only stand between a Princess of Equestria and her royal duties, but also have the nerve to challenge us!? Well you shall not… Why art thou staring at us like that?” Luna asked as she noticed her normally intimidating presence was having very little effect.

“Well you see Princess, Stross has told me all about how things work in Equestria. And he’s told me about how you and your sister are like the godly-powerful rulers there.” Fenora took a few steps closer, getting within a mere couple of inches of Luna “But you’re not in Equestria anymore, and if you want anyone to take you seriously in Skyrim…” Fenora smirked “You may want to put on some clothes first.”

Princess Luna broke eye contact for a moment to look down at herself, and found that not only was she not in her equine form any more, but she was also not wearing anything save for her royal jewelry. A heavy blush formed on her face as she looked back up at the Bosmer.

Meanwhile, a mischievous grin crossed Fenora’s face.

“Squeeze squeeze.” She said as she reached out and did the unthinkable.

We are all Thu'um-ed! Thu'um-ed you hear me?!

The morning light crept over the throat of the world as Narfi walked out of the inn. His belly was full from a hearty breakfast and he was ready for the hard day’s work ahead. He smiled as he walked down the main road through the small town of Ivarstead, greeting those he passed.

“Good day, Klimmek.”

The fisherman grunted in response.

“Good day to you too Bassaianus.”

“Not really, but whatever.” mumbled the town pessimist.

“Hello Miss Temba.”

“Hello to you too. See you at the mill.” She said before grumbling something about bears.

“Nice to see you again Drizeel.”

The assassin in question continued to aim a cannon at him.

“Greetings guardsman.”

“No lollygaggin’.”

Yes it was a fine boring day just like any other in Ivarstead. Nothing out of the ordinary here… Nope… just peace, quiet, and tranquili-

“YOU INSOLENT CUR! HOW DARE YOU FONDLE THE ROYAL FUNBAGS!?!”

Across the river things were very different from the afore mentioned peace and tranquility.

Two women stood across from each other. The Bosmer with the recently added palm-print on her face was easily recognized as the Dragonborn. The second, with her dark blue wings and the horn jutting from her forehead might have been mistaken for some kind of hagraven, but you’d need to drink a lot of mead for a hagraven to look that hot. And finally, at the epicenter of the coming sh*t-storm was a small, terrified goblin-like creature, nervously trying to calm both parties to no effect.

Now most guys would be totally fine with having two hot ladies fighting over them, but Stross was in a unique position in that they were about to be actually fighting over him.

“Ow, my freaking face.” Fenora complained as she rubbed her still stinging cheek.

“HA! Taste-ith mine wrath you perverted- Whoa… Whoa, Ahh!” Luna began before losing her balance and face-planting into the ground. “Wait, wait. I’ve got this. Curse this spindly bipedal form. Hold on… there. See, I- Ah!” the Princess grumbled as she hilariously tried to stand up once more only to fall backwards and into a mound of snow. “Gah-ha-ah that’s cold!”

“Wow, even I wasn’t that bad on my first try.” Stross thought as he watched the clumsy display.

“What’s the matter Princess?” Fenora snickered “Is this your first time? You seem to be having trouble getting it up. Or perhaps you’re just getting cold feet.”

“Silence!” Luna yelled, springing up and getting right in Fenora’s face, using her wings to stabilize her wobbly legs “I am a ruler of Equestria, and I will not be molested and insulted by the likes of some common thug!”

“You want to talk to me about overstepping boundaries? How about trying to steal my changeling?!” Fenora turned back to the root of their problems.

“I am well within my rights as Princess of Equestria!” Luna countered as she hastily covered herself up with Stross’s cloak (which she took without asking, by the way) “It is my duty to protect Equestria and my subjects from any threat, and changelings pose a greater danger to us than anything else. I cannot risk them searching other worlds for allies to aid them in destroying us.”

“Changelings are evil and they invaded our city and they eat ponies' love and boo hoo hoo.” Fenora waved her hands around while doing a dopey impression of the Princess. “News flash, Stross wasn’t even part of the invasion! He was never allied with Chrysalis, and he certainly doesn’t want to destroy you.”

“Is that what he told you? You can’t trust a changeling; they’re nothing but lies and hatred!” Luna scowled at Stross.

“You take that back you bitch! Stross is the nicest, funniest, and most loyal and caring person I’ve ever met!” Fenora defended him. “And you’re not taking him away, because he’s mine dammit!”

“Do you even know what you’re saying?!” Luna was taken aback “You must be under this changeling’s mind control! I’ll free you.”

“Fen!” Stross yelled as a blast from Luna’s horn hit Fenora square in the face, sending her staggering backward until she tripped over a tree stump.

Luna loomed over her as she lay on the ground. “There, the changeling’s mind control has been broken. No need to thank- GAH!”

In an instant, Fenora had swept her legs out from under her and had pinned her to the ground. “I! Wasn’t! Under! Mind control! Stross! Wouldn’t! Do that!” She yelled, each fragment of sentence punctuated with a punch using a set of brass knuckles.

Luna finally managed to magically blink herself out of harm’s way, leaving Fenora to punch a hole in the ground where her face had previously been, anchoring half her arm in the frozen topsoil.

“The fiend must have you enthralled more severely than I previously thought.” Luna said, wiping the blood from her mouth; even with her Alicorn resilience, that barrage of punches still hurt like crazy. She then turned to Stross, who was watching the fight from the side-lines “If that is the case then I must destroy the source of this affliction. Have at thee, trickster demon of-”

“Not so fast!”

“Lydia!” Stross said, overjoyed to see the housecarl/carrier-of-heavy-stuff coming to his aid.

“Stross is a Thane of Whiterun, and a friend. As both his (reluctant) friend and housecarl, I cannot allow you to harm him. Stand fast!” She pulled out her battle-axe.

“By my sister, how many of you has he enslaved?!” Luna asked before grabbing Lydia in her telekinetic glow “I apologize for this, noble protector, but I promise you’ll be rid of the changeling scourge soon.” Then in a flash of light, Lydia vanished.

Back in Whiterun, Laelette was exhausted after helping to “test” the blood donations at the temple of Kynareth the day before, and then helping the guards “deal with” a bunch of bandits attacking on of the farms the following night. She had finally run out of lotions of resist sunlight, and decided to get some sleep while Arcadia mixed up some more. But when she was just about to crawl into her makeshift coffin, she heard a screaming get louder and louder.

“I don't get PAID ENOUGH FOR THIIIIIISSSSSSS!!!” Lydia managed to scream out while she plummeted from fifty feet above Whiterun and crashed through the roof of Breezehome.

Laelette could only stare in surprise at the Nord warrior as she lay upon a large chunk of roof in a crumpled heap. “Shenanigans with Fenora and Stross?”

Lydia weakly nodded her head.

Then Farkas and Vilkas crashed through the roof and landed next to Lydia.

“Picking a fight with giants?”

“Yep.” They replied in unison.

Back near Ivarstead, Luna advanced on Stross with her phasers horn set to disintegrate.

“You’ve got it all wrong your majesty; I’m not controlling them! I really have earned their trust, their friendship! We’re saving the world together! I’d barely even considered going back to Equestria!” Stross yelled as he backed away, holding his hands up defensively.

“LIES!” Luna barked in her Royal-Canterlot-voice as she fired a blast at the cowering changeling.

Stross ducked just in time to avoid the shot, letting it hit the cliff behind him. He looked back to see that a large chunk of the rock face had crumbled into dust.

“Oh, buck me.”

Luna hovered before him and cut off his escape. With a burning vengeance in her eyes she charged up her horn again. “Any last words before I-“

“Yeah…” Fenora said, wrapping her arms around Luna’s neck and dragging her back to ground level. Then she positioned her lips right next to Luna’s ear and shouted out the iconic “FUS RO DAH!”

The lunar Princess felt as though her head was going to explode from the concussive sound-wave at point blank. But at the same time, she now knew how the ponies on nightmare night must have felt when she spoke to them in her Royal-Canterlot-voice for the first time.

With her ears still ringing, Luna elbowed Fenora in the gut, allowing her to turn and face her. “WE LET THEE KNOW THAT TWO MAY PARTICIPATE IN THIS EVENT!” She yelled back in retaliation.

“Fine then, if it’s a shouting match you want, then game on Princess!” Fenora challenged.

Then the two of them each took a deep breath and began to scream at the top of their lungs; the sound produced created a shockwave that ripped up the surrounding trees and foliage, scattered the clouds and sent debris flying every which way.

If one were crazy enough to listen to it, it would sound something like this.

“AAAAAAHHHH!!!”

“AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

“AAAAAAAHHH!!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

“AAAA- I’m beating you- AAHHHH!!!”

“AAAA- In your dreams- AAAAAAA!!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

*Meanwhile in the Greybeard’s pillow fortress of solitude.*

“What in Oblivion is going on down there?! It’s as if a thousand masters of the voice are trying to bring down the sky!” yelled one of the Greybeards as he huddled in the corner of the pillow fort with the rest.

“Shouldn’t we try to put a stop to it?” Arngeir asked as he stood apart from the others, looking out a nearby window as the monastery shook around him.

“(Ah Haal Naw) That sounds unwise, my friend.” Paarthunax said as he curled into a ball “Never before have I heard such anger, not even during the great war (Dem Gurls Piist Da Fug Ohf). I believe we could do little to stop such a force (Ah-ie Aint Goh-iin Ouwt Thaar).”

The Greybeards murmured in agreement as they sought out the animal-shaped cushions of protection and bunkered down.

After nearly half an hour of the continuous screaming that rattled the timbers and stones of every building from Windhelm to Solitude (and costing thousands of septims worth of damage in shattered glass and spilled mead), the Dragonborn “Can-crumble-mountains-with-her-voice” Fenora Tandis, and Princess “Royal-capslock-voice” Luna had finally exhausted their supply of air and were now gasping for breath.

“By the stars…” panted Luna as she knelt on all fours “That was more intense… than an argument between me and my sister… over which flavor of frozen dairy reigns supreme.”

“No kidding…” Fenora said from her sitting position, equally in need of oxygen “Oh and… Rocky Road is best flavor.”

“BLASPHOMY! NOTHING COULD EVER TRIUMPH OVER THE COOL SWEETNESS OF MINT COCHOLATE-CHIP!” Luna blasted her with her magic again.

Fenora quickly recovered and went on the attack once more. “I disagree and so does my greatsword!” she yelled as she delivered an overhead swing.

Luna dodged out of the way as the massive blade nearly clipped her. The swords momentum kept it going, embedding itself halfway into the trunk of an uprooted tree.

Now that she had a chance to concentrate while the elf tried to get her sword free, Luna focused her magic into a summoning spell. She focused her spell until it took shape and became solid, creating an elegant spear of a blue-ish silver metal with her emblem etched into the guard.

“Oh, I see how it is.” Fenora finally gave up on dislodging her greatsword “You’re trying to out-baddass-weapon me! Well we may not have spears in Skyrim (for whatever stupid reason), but our friends in Hammerfell have something far superior. Behold!”

“Mother of me. That’s a… a…” Luna pulled off a pair of shades that somehow appeared on her face and stuttered in astonishment as Fenora dramatically unsheathed the weapon and held it skyward in a salute to the smithing Gods.

“A curved sword? Yes it is. Not so tough now, are you?” Fenora said, and began to show off with it; doing flips, whirling it around, tossing it into the air and preforming stunts with the blade. “I’ve practiced a ton with this thing. So how ‘bout you just surrend- OW!” Fenora yelled as Luna blasted her off her feet and knocked her unconscious.

“Hmph, finally. Now then, we believe there was the issue of a changeling at hoof.” Luna turned back to Stross.

“Umm, actually it’s ‘the issue at hand’. You know, as long as we have these things.” He nervously corrected as he wiggled his fingers.

Luna’s glare was all that was needed to tell him that she didn’t care. However, he was so focused on the Princess as she ensnared him in her magic that Stross didn’t hear the echoing call that rang through the air.

“Now if there will be no further interruptions. We shall bring you back to Equestria, and then banish you from Equestria, and then make sure you are locked up in the place you are banished to!”

Luna was about to do to Stross what was considered by most everypony in Equestria to be one of the harshest punishments of all time, and by one fashionista to be one of many "Worst. Possible. Things.", when a massive object landed right behind them with an impact that shook the ground.

Both Luna and Stross took a timid glance behind them, and were greeted with the sight of a great hulking dragon… wearing a monocle and a top hat?

“I say there chaps, I do believe there was quite a commotion going on around these parts.” It spoke in a heavy colonial British accent.

Luna and Stross could find no words as they exchanged a quick glance with each other.

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am Sir Godfrey, second leftenant of lord Alduin’s glorious Dovah army. Now then, I have to ask; do either of you know where the Dragonborn is? For you see, lord Alduin has made it quite clear that he or she be eliminated. Don’t want them foiling our plans for world conquest, eh what.”

“I- Wait a second. World… conquest?” Luna questioned.

“Oh, why of course.” Godfrey answered smugly “These filthy vermin you see running around nowadays are merely an… infestation, if you will. Why, they don’t deserve to bask in the presence of us immortal beings. Soooo, we’re just going to wipe them all out and have a jolly good time ruling the world.”

Luna was shocked, both at the declaration of genocide, and at how casually the dragon had said it. “Wipe them out?!”

“I told you the dragons here were a bunch of pricks.” Stross said matter-o-factly.

“Silence.” Luna hissed as she constricted his throat with her magic. “Now then, you beast!” she turned to Godfrey “This world may not be our own, but as Princess of the night, we shall not allow you to cause such devastation upon the innocents of this world!”

“They are innocent, right?” she whispered to Stross.

“Sometimes… I guess. It’s kind of a wavering fifty-fifty ratio between jerks and good guys.”

“THAT BE-ITH GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!” She bellowed “YOU! SHALL NOT! PASS!”

The Royal-Canterlot- voice washed over Sir Godfrey like a stiff breeze. Curtly, he adjusted his monocle and top hat before craning his neck to observe the Princess more closely. “Well then, what have we here?” His gaze locked on to the bird-woman below him “From that verbal onslaught, I’d say ‘tis a fair accusation to assume that, in fact, you are the Dragonborn.”

“I know not what thou speak of, BUT I SHALL SLAY THEE NONETHELESS!” Luna prodded him with the tip of her spear.

“Oh! Ouch! I say, stop that; that is terribly impolite!” Godfrey retracted his head from the ground as Luna continued to attack him, making a fuss regardless of his scales easily deflecting her magic and her spear. “Right then! If you would dare try to slay me, then truly you must be the Dragonborn. Oh, lord Alduin will surely promote me after I destroy you. I might get to rule my own continent, or get my own castle- ooh, one made of crystal…”

“Shut up and fight me, you dumb lizard!” Luna yelled, still hacking feverishly at Godfrey while he was distracted by delusions of grandeur.

“Oh yes of course, I’d all but forgotten about you. Tally ho!” he said casually before scooping up Luna in his mouth and swallowing her whole with an audible gulp. “Ah, mint chocolate-chip. Delicious, though no match for French vanilla in my opinion.”

A muffled profanity came from the dragon’s stomach.

“Hmm? Still alive in there, are you?” Sir Godfrey moved his head closer to his belly “Well do try to digest while you’re in there, I shall shortly be washing you down with some peasants. Cheerio!” He then swooped over to the nearby snack-tray called Ivarstead, leaving Stross to sit there with his jaw on the ground while he pondered what in Tartarus or Oblivion had just happened.

How do you kill a God...frey?

Fenora had never considered herself an adventurer, or even ‘hero material’.  True, she was a reasonable, self-reliant and capable elf who could hold her own if she needed to. She had learned skills from some of the best, as both her parents were adventurers before their injuries left them crippled, and even her best friend in Elsweyr had been a treasure hunter for most of her life. But Fenora had never seen the appeal in risking your life for riches and glory, even if the reward was great.

Instead she had decided to become a farmer and part-time wanderer, exploring the world for rare and exotic plants and herbs to bring home. For her, that was exciting enough, and she was content with her life.

So imagine her surprise when she was headed home to High Rock by way of Skyrim after a long and exhausting journey only to be captured and brought to what would have been her execution. True, she escaped only slightly worse for wear when a dragon burned the town to the ground, but that turned out to only be the start of her problems.

What started out as a mission to sound the Dragon-alarm and get out of dodge, led to the fate of the world being thrust onto her shoulders, and instead of being able to run as far from Skyrim as possible, possibly to somewhere tropical, she was set off on some grand ol’ quest of epic importance. First the objective was “Go to a place and talk to some old dudes.”, then it was “Head into a tomb and fetch this thing. Oh, and can you clear out the bandits and zombies while you’re at it? Thanks.”.

Then… necromancer bandits, vampire bandits, wizard bandits, the freaking Theives Guild, pissed off walruses-

Things were getting more contrived and improbable every day. Needless to say, (In a deep gravelly voice) Fenora never asked for this. But she kept going because millions would die if she didn’t. She was the Dragonborn, and if she didn’t find a way to save the world… no one would.

Luckily she had a bit of a reprieve from the burden of saving the world and dealing with the people living in it…

Okay, a reprieve aside from all the grave robbing, selling random loot for money, collecting weapons, drinking, and using bandits and the wildlife as her punching bags to work out frustrations.

Anyway, that little piece of comfort and comic relief was named Stross; he was a funny, bug-like creature from another world that happened to have way too many feelings for her. But she didn’t mind, it was kind of cute and endearing the way he stuck with her even when she charged into harm’s way, and she couldn’t deny that having him around had saved her life more than once, usually from her own rashness.

Fenora was glad to have Stross, he was nice to have around. She didn’t know why his kind were so hated back on his own world, if they were all like him, everyone would want a changeling of their own. There was something about him that just made her feel good whenever he was around, and it did wonders for her anger issues. She couldn’t believe that some people actually did this saving-the-world thing for fun; everything they had to deal with would surely drive anyone insane.

When Fenora thought back to a few days prior, when their adventure had just begun, it seemed like a dull time compared to what was happening to them now. When she and Stross downed that dragon at the watchtower back at Whiterun, they had fought hard (practically on their own, too) and through teamwork and a lot of luck, had pulled out a win. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but a satisfying win no less.

For a while, Fenora had assumed that was going to be as hard as it would get. That while lasted about ten seconds.

But right now all that mattered to the elvish Dragonborn was that an inter-dimensional sovereign, the most insane thing yet, had come to drag Stross away and likely kill him; Fenora would literally chew off her own legs before she let that happen.

Speaking of which, she should probably wake up soon…

Any second now…

…

Umm, is she dead or-

Oh! Here we go!

As Fenora lay in semi-consciousness thinking about her life, she couldn’t seem to ignore the strange sensation that washed over her as she was gradually pulled from her concussion-induced sleep. She scrunched up her face and opened her eyes with a groan as her head pounded. Greeting her as she awoke was a face she could admittedly never get tired of seeing.

“Stross, you’re okay.” She sighed as he knelt down beside her. “Are you blushing?” she asked.

Stross began fidgeting and averting his eyes. “W- what? No! Wha- why… Why would I be blushing? I’m just-“

“Mouth to mouth doesn’t count as a kiss.” she told him.

“Does too.” he mumbled as his giddiness was savagely murdered.

Fenora smiled and suppressed a chuckle while dragging herself to her feet and finally shaking off the effects of Luna’s magic blasts. She was glad to see that Stross was still on Nirn, and that the horny bird-Princess was nowhere in sight.

“Well anyway, I assume you stood up to that Princess and beat her back to her own world where she belongs.” Fenora gave Stross a congratulatory slap on the back.

“Umm… actually,” Stross began as he got back up off the ground “a dragon… in a top hat… named Godfrey… came and ate her whole.”

“Well that’s good ne-“

“And then he swooped over to Ivarstead for seconds.”

Fenora followed Stross’s line of sight to find that the dragon was indeed attacking the village, and being incredibly posh about it.

“One normal day.” Fenora sighed as she equipped a giant hammer dubbed ‘oversized-weapon number twenty-two’ and rushed towards the village “Is one normal day too much to ask for?!”

“Oh great,” Bassianus spat “I knew that this would happen. Should have moved to Riften when I had the chance.”

“I would have gone with you!” Fastred glomped onto him.

“Over my dead body, you crazy teenagers!” her father, Jolfthor shook his fist.

“Will you all shut up!?” Temba silenced them “This is hardly the time for this.” She looked up through the roof at the gigantic dragon in a stylish top hat.

The second Sir “total drag-on” Godfrey had started circling the skies over Ivarstead, everyone immediately took shelter inside the inn. This happened to be a terrible idea, as Godfrey managed to block off all of the exits (considering there’s only the one) with his massive tail, trapping them all inside. Then it was simply a matter of tearing off the roof like the lid on a Tupperware container and picking which one of them he wanted to eat first.

Luckily for all of them, he was a very picky dragon.

“Hmm, let me see. What do I feel in the mood for right now?” he pointed his talon at each of them in turn, grading them like pieces of meat for a guy on a diet. “Too fat…”

“Hey!”

“Too old…”

“Why I never-“

“Oh goodness, take a bath for crying out loud!”

*Sniff**Sniff*…*Faints*

“Die dragon!” a guard yelled as he clung to Godfrey’s shoulder and started hacking at him with his axe.

“Ugh, too generic.” Godfrey said in disgust as he flicked the guard off his shoulder and into the river.

“Oh, what do we have here?” he picked up Drizeel “A bit scrawny, but a bit of lean meat never hurt.”

Drizeel looked as though she was going to burst a vein as she dangled between the dragon’s claws. “I’m a highly skilled assassin of the Dark Brotherhood; slayer of men and beast and man-beast alike! FEEEEEEAARR MEEEEEE!” she flailed her arms and legs and scratched at the talons holding her.

“Ooh and a bit of spice. I do enjoy it. Cheers!” Godfrey plopped her into his mouth and swallowed her.

“Drizeel, NNOOOOOOO!” Narfi yelled in anguish “Give her back you mons-“

Godfrey didn’t even let him finish before he repeated the process. Then just ‘cause he felt like it, he scooped up Wilhelm and ate him as well, but not before the innkeeper could sound out his clan’s trademark scream.

“We demand thou stop eating people! It’s getting crowded in here.” Declared Luna from inside Godfrey’s stomach. “TAKE THIS!”

Godfrey’s belly rumbled when she blasted the walls of his stomach with her magic.

“Give it up Dragonborn. My gloriously godlike form is impervious to your magic, inside and out.” Godfrey boasted “And don’t even try teleporting out again, I don’t feel like eating you a seventh time. Honestly, you should all be honored that I’m choosing you to be my meal.” he said indignantly and put his hands on his hips.

Before he could go back to eating the remaining townsfolk or make any more abnoxious comments, Godfrey was nearly hit square in the face with a giant fireball. After a second of griping over the new scorchmark on his wing, he looked over to see what would dare assail him. Standing on the road a few dozen feet away were two small figures; the one wearing a blue coat and leather armor with lots of pouches hefted a giant hammer over her shoulder, while the other in a grey hooded cloak and black leather focused on conjuring the fire in his hands.

The one brandishing the hammer stepped forward until she was within a few feet of Godfrey, the dragon towering over her by at least thirty feet.

“And what do you want?” he glared down at her.

She looked up and met him with a cold gaze. “I just thought you should know…” she paused for dramatic effect “That hat looks retarded.”

Godfrey’s monocle popped off and everyone gasped at Fenora’s statement.

“Okay, okay!” Fenora quickly hastily corrected herself “It looks mentally challenged. Geez.”

“Before I incinerate you for such a dreadfully rude comment, I have the right to know.” Godfrey leaned in and stuck his snout in Fenora’s face to which she didn’t even flinch “Who are you, puny mortal?”

Fenora smirked and grabbed Godfrey’s left nostril “I’m the Dragonborn, you asshat.” she in a badass fashion as she shoved a beehive into the dragon’s nose.

Godfrey recoiled, eyes wide as he shrieked like an old lady “Oh no, not the bees! NOT THE BEES! Ahh dear me, they’re in my eyes, MY EYES!” the dragon thrashed and flailed around as the angry hornets swarmed inside his respiratory system.

“Stross, hit ‘em high!” Fenora yelled and Stross took to the air while she rushed forward on the ground.

Fenora used the momentum from her run and channeled it into her swing, bringing her hammer down on the recovering dragon’s only stationary limb. Godfrey, who had just managed to dislodge the hive from his nose, howled in pain as one of his toes was flattened by a forty-pound hammer.

Stross saw his chance and pulled out his steel dagger.  He encircled the blade and his fist in a cone of flame as he dived from the air, weaving past the dragon’s wings and meeting his target, the soft part of Godfrey’s neck.

The duo retreated as Godfrey whipped his tail at them, destroying the porch of the inn in the process.

“This sure won’t be easy.” Fenora said, surveying what damage they’d managed so far; a damaged toe and the smallest of scratches in his neck.

“I think we only made him mad.” Stross landed next to her.

“I SHALL END THEE!” Godfrey roared and barreled towards them “Yol… TOOR SHUL!”

Fenora and Stross dove to opposite sides to avoid the furnace heading straight at them, but were caught by Godfrey’s massive wings as he passed them, throwing them high into the air.

“Fen!” Stross zipped over to catch his love interest before she could hit the ground, straining slightly under the added weight. “Gotcha!”

“We need a plan to deal with this guy.” Fenora told him. From their height she spotted the river and the waterfall it led to “I’ve got it! We need to lead him over there.” she pointed with her free hand as she drew her bow with the other.

Before they had time to react, Godfrey flew past them and snapped his jaws, blowing them out of the sky. Spotting where they landed he let out a vicious snarl. He then cleared his throat while adjusting his top hat. “Ahem, I mean… yes, have at thee.”

Fenora shot an arrow that bounced off his shoulder.

“Hah! You puny mortal fool, I’m not afraid of toothpicks!” Godfrey mocked as he hovered just above the ground.

Fenora took aim and let loose another arrow; this one chipped the glass of his monocle. Godfrey’s wings froze midair and he dropped ungracefully to the ground with a loud thud. He was motionless and his eyes stared straight ahead as his glass monocle cracked across, and finally shattered.

Fenora and Stross stood still by the bank of the river, the villagers of Ivarstead watched on from the remains of the inn, Luna and the others were getting sick from tumbling around in a dragon’s stomach, Ulfric Stormcloak was all the way over in Windhelm making pancakes, and all were silent as Godfrey began to tremble.

Godfrey barred and gritted his dagger-like teeth. “Ffffffff-“ he continued to hiss and his eyes began to twitch as everyone nervously glanced to one-another “FFFFFFF- GAH!” he finally snapped and turned his maddened gaze skyward as he roared “FAAS RU MAAR!”

As the thu’um was released, a wave of pure terror washed over all who heard it. While the villagers began to run around in circles and sit in the fetal position sucking their thumbs, Fenora shook it off and steeled herself for what was to come.

“All right Stross, are you ready to- Stross?” she turned to the changeling who was currently clinging to her from behind with all his available limbs.

“Y- y- yeah. I g- g- got your back.” he said through his chattering teeth.

“All right, now’s our chance.” Fenora took a deep breath. “Hey you big stupid lizard!” she yelled “Come and get me!”

Wanting only to end the being that broke his precious monocle, Godfrey was happy to oblige. With a powerful flap of his wings, he darted towards the pair, his mouth agape.

Putting her plan into motion, Fenora made a dash for the river’s end, and the waterfall. Unfortunately, she didn’t consider how much the water would slow her down, and she was only halfway there by the time Godfrey caught up to her.

Fenora narrowly dodged getting eaten as Godfrey lunged at her. She continued to roll through the shallow water and dodge out of the way until finally Godfrey got frustrated and scooped her up in his talons.

The dragon climbed higher and higher into the air with his two adversaries in literal tow. Once they were high enough to see a few birds fly by and all the landscape blend together, Godfrey flicked his talons attempting to drop Fenora and Stross to their deaths.

But Fenora had thought of this on the way up and prepared with a meat hook. She worked the tip of the hook through Godfrey’s plates and into his flesh, giving her a stable grip to hold on to.

Already furious, Godfrey set about doing dives, and loops with sudden turns attempting to shake them off while Fenora yelled about him going the wrong way.

“Let me off this ride! I’m gonna puke!” Stross wailed as he completely forgot he could fly, and clung to Fenora for dear life.

When the aerial maneuvers proved fruitless, he began spewing fire at them, contorting and angrily attempting to roast the mortals off his hide as they climbed onto his back.

Back on the ground in a nearby forest, a giant brown bear wandered out to the lake for a drink. It took a moment of pause to look over at the commotion further downstream. A great winged beast was flailing around in the sky spewing brightly colored flames in all directions before it spiraled down and landed in the freezing river.

The bear shrugged to itself and began to lap up some water. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t his problem.

Suddenly and out of practically nowhere, a bit of stray embers fell from the sky and onto a nearby tree. In almost comical fashion, the tree burst into flames and was reduced to ashes in milliseconds.

The bear’s eyes went wide and then narrowed as he looked over at what caused the destruction of a part of his turf.

Now… it was his problem.

Godfrey growled at the loss of his wing and turned to the one responsible. Fenora drew another of her swords as the two prepared to clash. Stross was off to the side puking up resin. Queen Elisif was in Solitude impressing the court with her colorful language after spilling hot tea in her lap.

The tension in the air was almost solid.

Then from the treeline, a single bear stood on its hind legs and roared, pointing an accusatory paw at Godfrey.

And suddenly… bears.

From the forest, dozens of bears charged forth in the fray, sloshing through the waters with ease as they homed in on the burner of trees. Godfrey turned his head just in time for the leader bear the leap on with a flying tackle. His brethren quickly chose a body part and followed suit, clawing, biting and demanding pic-a-nic baskets.

Stross wiped his mouth and shuffled over to Fenora. “So what’d I miss?” He asked as Fenora attempted to tie a rope around a boulder.

“The bear cavalry is here.” Fenora explained “But I don’t know how much longer they’ll last. So here’s the plan...”

“Oh please.” Stross said, disturbed by his friend’s lack of faith “Even in Equestria the bear cavalry are legends; four of them managed to hold off an entire buffalo tribe by themselves. Now that they’re here, I could say that we’ve got this fight in the-“

And then five bears flew overhead on fire.

Stross’s eyes went wide and he listened intently to the plan.

The bears kept their distance as another of their ranks were either swatted aside or swallowed whole. The commander stood at the front, staring down their enemy. Never before had his clan faced such a monstrous being, and for the first time in centuries, their odds were looking dreadfully slim. The scaled thing had withstood their forward assaults and sundered their lines, but as the commander’s remaining forces rallied around him for one final stand, the dragon did something unthinkable.

It turned away.

It… turned away… from them. Denying them a final confrontation and ignoring them as if they were not worth the effort. It was the greatest insult one could offer.

The bear commander and his brethren snarled as it walked away, but their expressions turned to surprise when it was engulfed in an inferno of red flames. The fire dispersed to reveal the dragon barely harmed, but flying at its eye level was a black flittering creature taunting it.

“Yo, Fish and chips!” It screamed mockingly “I wanted you extra crispy!” it then threw another blast of fire at the dragon, which growled in annoyance and responded with a blast of its own. The hovering creature's eyes narrowed "This changes nothing."

The black thing then fled downstream with the scaled beast in eager pursuit, smashing through a large structure of rocks and straw along the way.

The bears gathered around their commander, looking to him for guidance. He knew only two things for sure; the fight was not over, and the enemy of thine enemy is thine friend.

With fire in his eyes and determination coursing through his veins, he charged forward, leading his brethren forward for honor and glory.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT! OH SHIT! Fen if you’re gonna do something, do it fast!” Stross screamed as he flew for his life, Godfrey angrily snapping his jaws behind him.

The bosmer in question was lying in wait under the stone bridge looking back at the trap she’d hastily set up. The miscellaneous-weapon-spikes were in place, the tether was secure, and her bait friend was leading their prey right to it. Fenora faced forward once more, nervously tightening the rope as Stross drew the dragon nearer.

“Get closer, just a little closer.” She whispered as she readied her makeshift anchor, consisting of one of her longswords that Stross had melted to an axe handle in a scythe-like fashion. Seeing her chance, she darted out from her cover and got atop the bridge once they were only a dozen feet away. “NOW!” she yelled and leapt into the air.

Stross took her queue and caught her foot between his hands, using as much strength as he could to vault her further.

With the lift Stross had given her, Fenora managed to clear Godfrey’s head and land on his back, bringing the anchor down on his scales as she slid down. The point took a bad hit on the broadside of one of Godfrey’s scales, but Fenora kept it going, dragging it along his back until it hit a groove and embedded itself.

With her job done, Fenora kicked off the rampaging dragon and landed in Stross’s arms.

“Yes! We got him!” she said triumphantly before the two tumbled onto the ground. “Now we can-“

Before she could finish her sentence, Godfrey cleared the bridge, took up the slack on the rope and ripped the entire three-ton structure from the ground without so much as a second thought. He continued forward, trampling over the spikes meant to impale him once he tripped before slowing to a stop and turning to face them with an incredibly smug expression.

“Mother… fucker.” Fenora strained out through clenched teeth.

Godfrey straightened up and stood on two legs once more, having clearly regained his cool, posh attitude. “Well then, you have entertained me, mortal.” he said, casually pulling the blade from his back as the rest of the bear cavalry arrived, surrounding him “Or should I say… Dragonborn. I shall receive great enjoyment from devouring you.”

“Here’s a thought,” Fenora said, her voice dripping with anger and frustration “how about you shut up, or fuck off; ideally both, in either order. And tell your friends to do the same so that maybe the rest of us can get on with our lives! We at least deserve to live without you assholes ruining everything.”

Godfrey paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. But then he began to laugh. He laughed for a solid minute in a way so obnoxious and irritating it was almost cruel.

“Oh that’s a good one.” Godfrey said as he finally ceased his laughter and wiped his eyes “You think the lives of these pathetic, worthless creatures is valuable enough for me to even regard them as such, much less care about what happens to them. You mortal abominations aren’t worthy of the earth you stand upon. Why, if I didn’t know any better-”

“ENOUGH!”

Everyone present were surprised to see that it was Stross that stepped forward to oppose the badmouthing dragon.

“Not… another… word.” Stross growled “You take back everything you just said. The people on this world may not be perfect; some of them are downright nasty. But when I came here from a world that feared and hated me for what I was, and I expected the worst, they accepted me. I was wrong about them, and I had never been so glad to be wrong about anything in my life! They treated me like an equal and gave me a chance to prove that I was a good person!”

Stross glared Godfrey down, stepping forward as he continued his speech. “I’ve only been here a few days, and yet I’ve seen so much good in them even when it was shrouded by the worst of what they are. What I am and what I do makes me a monster, but they accepted me for who I am inside, and because of that kindness, I’ll always feel unworthy to stand among them. But at the same time, I’ll always be grateful for knowing there are such wonderful people out there.”

Stross wiped the tears from his eyes and hardened his tone once more. “So don’t you dare say that they shouldn’t exist! This world and the people in it gave me hope. So long as you or any of your kind aim to snuff out something so wonderful, I will never stop fighting you. I will nev- Hey what are you- AHHH! Put me down! MMMPPPHHH! Mmm hrrmm phhuurr huurr, aaphh hrr phrr mrr!”

The tail end of Stross’s moving speech was cut off as Godfrey stuffed the changeling into his mouth and swallowed him like so many before.

“STROSS!” Fenora yelled as he slid down the dragon’s esophagus “Godfrey, you son of a motherless goat!”

“Oh really now, I simply can’t stand long-winded speeches.” Godfrey said, picking his teeth “Well… unless they’re mine of course.”

In his arrogant stance, Godfrey didn’t notice the amount of ground Fenora had gained in that short time.

“Spit him out you bastard! Spit them all out!” Fenora said as she pried Godfrey’s mouth open, much to his surprise.

While Fenora occupied his face, the bear cavalry used the opening to hit the dragon’s legs, the combined assault sending him stumbling back.

Fenora held on to the teetering lizard and continued beating his snout. “Let! HIM! GO!”

Godfrey regained focus long enough to notice where the elf was positioned, and an obvious solution came to him. “Yol…” he inhaled, about to unleash his fire breath. But something stopped him before the second syllable could come out, leaving him with only a strained choking noise.

Gripping at his throat, and desperately trying to dislodge the object stuck in his windpipe, Godfrey’s mouth gaped open to reveal a certain changeling, clawing his way back up.

“What’s the matter Godfart? Changeling got your uvula?!” Stross said with a laugh “This is what happens, when you DON’T. CHEW! YOUR! FOOD!”

With each word emphasized with an elbow to the throat-mounted punching-bag, Godfrey was vomiting all over the place in seconds. It began with Stross and a few bears getting launched from his maw, covered in a thick mucus. Then Narfi, Wilhelm and Drizeel were retched up, their clothes and skin a bit digested, but nothing too serious.

Quite a few other things were ejected from the dragon’s stomach as well; wagon wheels, several ingots of gold and silver, a few treasure chests, and a man in a black and red jester’s outfit crying for his mommy.

“Stross, are you okay?” Fenora asked as she hugged him, heedless of the disgusting goop covering them both.

“Ah, just like back in the Badlands.” Stross said, his eyes glistening with nostalgia of having to bust out of hungry predator's stomachs.

“GRRAAHH!” Godfrey snarled as he recovered from his vomiting fit, wheezing and gagging “You… poor excuse… for food! I… shall… vanquish-” he could say no more before he stumbled back to the ground and into a hacking fit.

“Fen?” Stross turned to his Dragonborn “Are you ready to wreck this fool?”

“You know it.” she answered with certainty.

To their left, the bear commander grunted in agreement.

Moving in sync with one another, they easily toppled the weakened dragon. It started with a Fus Ro Dah uppercut from Fenora, followed by a staggering flame-punch from Stross. The bears formed a living battering ram as they shoved themselves into Godfrey, pushing him back towards the falls, to which a hack to the rear legs from Fenora’s executioners axe and a banana peel from Stross, managed to send the dragon tumbling over the falls, satisfying cracks heard the whole way down as his body hit the rocky cliffs jutting out.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Fenora asked as they looked over the edge of the falls at the dragon’s twitching body.

“Probably not, but let’s do it anyway.” Stross replied with a smile as Fenora pulled out yet another sword.

And just like that, the two of them dove off the edge of the falls as the bear cavalry gave them a standing salute. The two plummeted downward, side by side, each gripping the hilt of the sword, and in a repeat of the Whiterun watchtower, Fenora aimed the blade while Stross poured his magic into it, turning it white hot.

In a landing from a jump they would both agree to never repeat due to limb fractures, they drove the sword into Godfrey’s squishy organs, delivering karmic justice and a much anticipated end to the pompous and bigoted dragon in stylish attire.

The strangest thing about the fight however, was what happened after. Godfrey’s body disintegrated like Mirmulnir’s and any other dragon that dies, leaving only scales and bones, (and an unconscious Princess of the night) but there was no soul left behind to be absorbed. Fenora questioned this, but Stross quickly found the answer on one of Godfrey’s scales.

They had, in fact been painted to look their golden sheen, and underneath they were actually a bright orange-ish red. In that moment, the lack of a soul became clear to them both.

“He was a ginger!” They said in unison.

So ya wanna be a hero? Well excuse me, Princess.

“So she’s alive then?” Fenora asked as Stross dragged the Princess of the night from the dragon’s remains and checked her over.

“Yeah, but she’s out; probably from all that bouncing around while we were fighting Jerkfrey.” Stross replied, discarding his cloak, which was completely ruined from the fight (It’ll take more than an Oxi-clean rip-off to get all that dragon barf to come out) “Technically, I’m not sure she can die. You know, with the whole ‘immortal ruler of the night’ thing going on.”

“So what do we do with her?” Fenora asked “And don’t say we let her join us!” she quickly added when she remembered Stross’s sympathetic disposition.

“I wasn’t! She was going to kill me.” Stross yelled.

“Well technically she said she’d lock me up in some place she banished me to, but that might have just been a heat-of-the-moment thing. Regardless, we need a way to get her off my case.  That Princess is really adamant about taking me down; I doubt she’d stop until I-”

“That’s it! I’ve got it!” Stross announced “I am going to fake my own death!”

“What?” Fenora questioned.

“Yeah it’ll be super easy!” Stross bobbed up and down with excitement “Let’s just take her back to Whiterun with us, then when she wakes up I’ll go hide somewhere and you can tell her I died in the fight. That way she’ll go home and won’t look for me anymore. It’s brilliant!”

“And you know that will work.”

“Pssh. Of course it will! I’ve done this plenty of times back in Equestria!”

Fenora rubbed her chin and considered the plan.  One the one hand Stross had supposedly done it before with success. On the other hand, that was in Equestria, where according to Stross ‘those ponies are as gullible as… a really gullible person’. But this was in Skyrim where… Okay, not much difference. And considering how this was an Equestrian Princess…

“You know,” Fenora looked up at her companion “that just might work.”

“I’mma genius!”

Before leaving for Whiterun, Fenora insisted they check what remained of Ivarstead. Most of the villagers had returned and began cleaning up the wreckage of the inn, which Wilhelm was in the process of crying like a baby over.

Our heroes cringed at the damage done in the fight. “Do you need any help fixing this?” Stross asked.

“That’s kind of you to offer, thane. But you two have done enough by saving us from that beast.” Temba thanked them “Don’t you worry, we’ll have this place back together in no time. That is, if we could get some decent lumber; those bears won’t stop scratching up all the trees.”

“They deserve at least some thanks though, they helped in the fight.” Stross turned to the bear commander as he and his battalion were departing “Thank you for aiding us, we couldn’t have done it without you.” Fenora joined him and they gave a salute.

“Think nothing of it.” the bear said in a deep masculine voice, earning a shocked reaction from the two “T’was our honor to assist you against such a scourge. Remember… Only you can prevent forest fires.”

With that, he saluted back and left with the rest of his brethren.

Luna’s eyes tightened as she awoke, sunlight streaming down into her face. She raised her arm to shield her eyes as they acclimated to her surroundings. All around her were walls and furniture made of wood, in the ceiling above her were three large, person-shaped holes. Bringing her eyes to level, she felt the bed beneath her, and to her horror, Luna found it was lined not only with cloth, but with animal pelts as well.

Her heart-rate jumped and she frantically tried to remove herself from the comfortable construct of carcasses only to find a weight on her body keeping her pinned.

“What in the name of- AHH!” Luna screamed as she pulled the covers off, finding a woman underneath smiling up at her.

“Hey sleepy head.” Laelette said cheerfully and giving a seductive and frightening smile full of fangs “Now we can finally start round one! Ding ding!”

“GAH! Cease this at once!” Luna yelled as Laelette groped her.

“Oh, I love when they play hard to get.” Laelette said before she dropped any remaining shred of tact and face-planted into Luna’s gazongas “Phpb blub brrb bluh brrb!”

“NO! Get off me!” Luna shrieked and tumbled onto the floor “Where am I? Who are you? And why do you humans always have such an intrusive fascination with my breasts!?”

Laelette giggled at the Princess’s display. “Don’t worry Princess, you’re fine, everything’s fine. You’re in Whiterun, and the big bad dragon that ate you is dead now; Fenora and Stross killed it!” she said joyfully as she made a hood and cape out of the blankets.

Luna sat on the floor for a second, breathing heavily and recovering from the PG-13 assault on her body. After another moment or so she was able to rationalize the information she’d been given, and immediately remembered why she had come to this world in the first place.

“Stross… the changeling! Do you know where it is now? Quickly?!” Luna grabbed Laelette by the shoulders.

“Hmm? Oh yeah! I’m supposed to tell you… he’s dead.” She said with a smile oddly out of place for the morbid topic.

Luna just stared at her for a while. “Dead…” she whispered “How?”

“Fenora said to send you over to her when you woke up. She’s in the Bannered Mare depleting their stock of alcohol.” The vampire explained.

“In the Bannered Mare?! Is everpony in this world a sex addict!?” Luna yelled.

Laelette tilted her head in confusion.

Luna slapped her forehead. “Oh, duh. Human world… human world. Right then, I must find this Fenora and speak with her, post haste!” Luna declared and marched towards the exit. However, she remembered an important detail as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “Umm, do you have any clothes I could borrow?” she asked sheepishly when she returned to the top floor.

“Yep!”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

…

“Could I have them please?” Luna arched an eyebrow.

Laelette gave her a pleading look. “But… I like seeing you naked.”

“Good luck! Say hi to them for me!” Laelette waved to Luna from the doorway while nursing a black eye.

Luna scoffed a bit as she walked the stone streets, trying to adjust the clothes she was given into a more comfortable position. The leggings and skirt fit well enough, but the top was quite scratchy and compressed her wings against her back. And judging by how her feet tumbled around in them, the boots were far too loose. But most egregious of all was the color. Seriously, green!? That horrid color did nothing to compliment her hair or her eyes. She counted herself lucky that she wouldn’t need to stay much longer now that the changeling threat was dead.

Still, for reasons she couldn’t describe, Luna felt a little bad that it was gone. It was a changeling after all, one of the monstrous creatures that foalnapped her niece, attacked Canterlot and wounded her beloved sister. But this one was supposedly working with the people of this new world, defending them from an ancient evil much like she and her sister had done for their own world so many centuries ago.

From within the dragon’s belly she heard parts of the changeling’s speech, and if it were anything to go by, the shapeshifter was grateful to the inhabitants of this world and truly cared about them. Luna still didn’t know whether its intentions were pure or not; whether the changeling’s end goal was to recruit an army to destroy Equestria in the name of revenge, or something else entirely. Motives mattered little now that it was gone, yet she was curious all the same.

She looked up after relenting in the battle with her clothes to find that she had no idea where this ‘Bannered Mare’ even was, nor even where she was going. Doing the logical thing that for some reason eludes nearly every stallion in Equestria, she asked for directions.

“Excuse me good sir,” she asked a tall muscular figure in a cone-shaped helmet “would you be so kind as to provide directions to the Bannered Mare?”

“Did you see those warriors from Hammerfell? They’ve got curved swords! Curved… swords.” He said with a hint of astonishment.

“That’s… not what I asked fo-“

“They say Ulfric Stormcloak murdered the High King… with his voice; shouted him apart!”

“That’s horrible; it must have been a very heated debate for a royal voice to reach such levels. But could you please-“

“Don’t think you can barter with me like one of those damned shopkeepers.”

Luna’s eye twitched. “Will you-“

“No lollygaggin’.”

Luna found her way to the Bannered Mare at about the same time a patrol of guards found one of their ranks hanging from the roof of a building by his underpants with a chicken stuffed in his mouth.

The Princess walked through the door, glad to be out of the harsh afternoon heat. Inside, the place was lively enough for that time of day. The usual customers were sitting around, eating, drinking, telling jokes and tall tales, being terrified of dragons… the usual stuff you do when you bum around on weekends.

However, there was one solemn elf sitting at the bar counter chugging down a bottle of strong-smelling liquid. She arranged it atop a pyramid made from other empty bottles and then ordered another, which the bartender fearfully gave her without complaint or the usual words of caution.

Luna slowly walked over, earning her a sideways stare from Fenora. “May I?” Luna asked.

Fenora gestured for her to sit. “You’re awake.”

“Indeed. And I received quite a rude welcome from your other guest.” Luna told her, to which Fenora chuckled. “However, she has also informed me that the changeling has perished. Is it true?”

Fenora’s light smile turned to a frown once more, and she took a sip of mead before answering. “Yeah… he died in the fight. Forgive me if I don’t go into details.”

“You needn’t.” Luna pardoned her “We only needed to know that it was no longer a threat to us.”

“Mm hmm.” Fenora grunted and finished off another drink. “I doubt he even cared about Equestria anymore… but whatever.”

A moment of silence passed.

“So.” Luna tried to strike up a conversation “I assume you’ll wish to destroy the dragons that did all this?”

“Yes. But truth be told, we’re kind of on hold with that for now.” Fenora explained “There’s an artifact called the horn of Jurgen Windcaller that can supposedly help us beat them, but we don’t have it. We tracked its location to the master of the Thieves Gulid, a prick named Mercer Frey. He’s getting it back from his Nan’s house, and in exchange for it, they want us to save their butts and do their stupid errands. Which reminds me…”

Fenora put on her guild hood and handed a giant bag of septims to the bartender. “This should cover the tab the Guild has run up.” She then pulled out a bigger bag and handed it over “And this should cover my personal bill.” The bosmer turned back to the Princess who was staring at her in shock. “What? I can’t save the world while I’m sober!”

“Trust me, I know of what you speak, but that seems excessive.” Luna said, remembering the case of hard cider she kept in her room for long nights filled with paperwork and how it paled in comparison to Fenora's habit. “Still, what pray tell will you do until this Windcaller’s horn is retrieved?”

“I’m not sure. Not much I can do, really.” Fenora answered slowly, letting the weight of her sadness return and really sink in.

A few awkward moments passed before Luna spoke again. “The changeling… It claimed it was not using mind control to enslave you or earn your favor, is this true?”

Fenora sighed and put down her glass. “First off, his name is- was… Stross. And no, he never used any kind of magic on me, except those times when he saved my life.”

“He… saved your life?” Luna said skeptically.

Fenora turned from Luna and faced back into her half-empty glass with a small grin. “Yeah… he did. One time he nearly sacrificed himself forcing his own life energy into me; I know for sure I would have died if he hadn’t been there. When he woke up the next morning, he told me what brought him back from death’s door in turn was my love for him.”

Luna leaned onto the counter, curious over what she’d just heard. “And did you have feelings for him?” she asked.

“I’m not sure…” Fenora said with a distant look in her eyes “We only met four… maybe five days ago now. But it feels like a lot longer. And considering everything we’ve gone through, any normal person would have left. But he stayed with me.” Fenora smiled. “And he’s always had this attitude and personality that just, for lack of better words… brought out the best in me.” She turned to Luna “It’s that kind of inspired feeling, the kind that makes you believe you could do anything in the world. You know what I’m talking about?”

Luna slowly nodded, as she’d felt it many times before in her long life.

“That’s the kind of feeling Stross fills me with.” Fenora continued “As long as he’s there, I could keep going through anything the world could throw at me.”

Luna put a comforting hand on Fenora’s shoulder. “Then we are truly sorry he is gone. To be honest, we have never thought a changeling could mean so much to someone. We have always believed they were nothing more than heartless monsters. The way they deceive you, and turn you against one another, and suck the life from your-”

Luna was quickly thrown off her current track when Fenora drew a knife and firmly embedded the tip into the counter while throwing her a deathly glare.

“R-right, sorry.” Luna apologized “Though tis been said, we are sorry for your loss.”

Fenora softened her gaze and nodded.

“And if it is any consolation,” she stood up and valiantly proclaimed to the ceiling “we shall stay in this world until these Dragons are properly dealt with!”

“That’s great, I- Wait. WHAT!” Fenora yelled, narrowly avoiding a spit-take.

“Indeed, the destruction of an entire world is something we cannot tolerate! THOSE FOUL CREATURES SHAN’T GET AWAY WITH THEIR NEFARIOUS DEEDS WHILE WE ARE HERE!” she announced in her Royal-Canterlot- voice, toppling Fenora’s beer pyramid and earning an annoyed look from the bartender as the bottles scattered across the floor.

“I- B-but what about your kingdom? Won’t it need you to rule it?” Fenora sputtered.

“Nonsense!” Luna insisted as she stepped off her chair “My sister has ruled more than adequately for over a thousand years. And with all those stuffy nobles and bureaucrats they have now, all should be well in hoof. I shall have plenty of time to assist the people of Skyrim in their struggle! DEATH TO THE DRAGONS!”

“Death to the dragons!” everyone in the inn echoed as they raised their mugs in a toast.

“Shut up! All of you stop encouraging her!” Fenora silenced them “Princess, go home. We’ve got this handled.”

“I’m an immortal Alicorn with ungodly amounts of magic. I can help! You need me!” Luna yelled, getting into Fenora’s face, unwilling to relent.

Fenora matched her and pulled herself in by the scruff of Luna’s uncomfortable shirt. “NO WE DON’T’! I don’t care how powerful you are! After the way you attacked Stross, we don’t want your help, much less need it! And I doubt you could help anyway. The last dragon you tried to kill ate you and we had to pull you from its stomach.” Fenora harshly reminded her “You would be useless to us!”

Fenora breathed for a second and calmed herself. When she looked at the Princess, she found she had fallen silent.

Luna just stared back for a while, her eyes not fully focused on Fenora, but those last six words echoing in her mind. Her expression was frozen and stillness fell over the room as she unwillingly delved into long repressed memories. The world seemed to melt away into blackness with only her and the elf before her remaining. Only it was not just Fenora standing there, it was also an all too familiar figure, one that had long since left her behind.

Useless... Luna hated that word. She hated it for what it meant, and she hated hearing it applied to anything. For Luna, it all stemmed back to when had heard those very same words for the first time. Even today, tens of hundreds of years later they still stung like poison-tipped daggers in her heart when she thought of them. Hearing them yelled at her in almost the exact same way left her broken.

Her eyes immediately went soft and her lip began to quiver, her legs going weak. It was doubtful she knew what she was doing, and even more doubtful that she could control herself if she did.

“But- I…” Luna dropped to her knees and hugged Fenora around the waist, leaning her head against the Dragonborn’s chest. “I’m not useless! I wanna save the world too, mommy. Why don’t you love me like Tia?!” she cried out as tears spilled down her face.

…

Error: Fenora_brain.exe has stopped working.

Warning: Hnnnng_virus detected in Fenora_heart.exe: attempting to recover…

Warning: Guilt capacity reaching dangerous levels: Supressing…

Core data backup successful.

Rebooting: Complete.

…

"L- Luna?" Fenora stuttered out "Princess?"

There was no reply, only sobbing.

“Umm… It's okay. You're going to be okay.” Fenora said awkwardly to the Princess currently hugging her like a child. “Hey… I’m sorry I yelled at you like that. But it'll be alright. You can help us save the world if you want.”

Woona looked up to her with red, puffy eyes. “R- really?”

“Yeah.” Fenora stroked her hair “Of course you can.”

"Do you still love me?"

Fenora struggled to not die from the sheer unadulterated cuteness as she stared at the Princess's hopeful face.

"Yes Luna... Of course I do."

Luna smiled and hugged her. And for a few short moments, she felt truly happy.

…

And then reality came crashing back down like a pallet of bricks and awkwardness.

Luna’s eyes shot open and she bolted a solid ten feet away in a millisecond. “Ahem, I mean yes. Thank you.” she said as she dusted herself off under the stares everyone was giving the two.

Fenora straightened up and addressed her in an equally stiff manner “We’ll talk about it later. Just head outside, I’ll be there in a minute or so.”

Luna didn’t need to be asked twice. She had bolted outside in a trail of smoke as Fenora sat back down.

...

Once it was sure the coast was clear, a barrel wobbled over, sprouted legs and hopped onto the barstood next to the Dragonborn.

“What was all that back there?” it asked in a hushed tone “First she was all valorous and determined… and then she practically exploded with sadness and regret; it nearly made me faint there was so much.”

“You said there were two of those Princesses; one controlling the day the other controlling the night? I’m staring to think there was more than a little favoritism from their parents.” Fenora deduced.

“I didn’t even know they had parents. Most of us believe they just sorta’ poofed into existence one day and started purging all the evil stuff. But sibling rivalry aside, what are we gonna’ do now?! If she finds out I’m still alive she’ll kill me.” the barrel shook in terror.

“Not to worry my buggy little friend. I don’t think she’s really that bad.” Fenora patted the top of the barrel with a smirk “I’ve got a new plan. Just follow my lead.”

“I’m gonna get lynched.” The barrel sobbed.

Fenora kicked the inn’s door open and walked outside into the still blistering heat. She looked around the immediate area but found no sign of Skyrim’s newest arrival. That is until she heard a small cough from behind her. Investigating further lead her to Luna, who was sitting around the corner, out of sight from the main street.

“Hey.” Fenora greeted softly.

“We apologize about what happened back there.” Luna responded “We did not intend to, as they say, ‘cause a scene’.”

“That’s alright. It happens" Fenora paused and then asked with genuine concern "Do you want to talk about it."

Luna just hugged her knees tighter.

Fenora sat down next to the Princess and took a breath “Regardless, what I said was unfair. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you, and if you want, you can stick around and slay dragons with me.”

“So you really would allow me to aid you?” Luna asked hopefully “Even after everything I did to you, and what I tried to do to your changeling friend? Are you… really sure you what me here?”

“Are you kidding? Nah, I’m just joking around.” Fenora said sarcastically “I’m only fighting an entire army of flying, fire-spitting death machines the size of buildings. Heck, I could probably take down every single one while blindfolded! I can totally just turn down help whenever I want.” Fenora took a serious tone and stared Luna in the eyes “There’s no way I can do this all on my own; I need all the help I can get. If that means bringing you on board, then I’m all for it.”

Luna gave her a warm smile.

“On a few conditions.” Fenora quickly added.

“Okay. Like what?”

“For starters, I’m in charge here. If you want to help us out, then you’ll have to follow my lead.”

Luna nodded with an affirmative.

“Condition two: I’m not your babysitter. If you break Skyrim’s rules, then you face the consequences on your own. Tell her, guardsman.”

“Disrespect the law and you disrespect me.” A guard popped up from underground “And all the other infinitely respawning law enforcement that come out of the woodwork from the most minor offences.”

Luna gulped and she nodded in agreement as the guard tunneled away.

“And condition three… stop talking all weird, using the third person; ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ and such.”

“No.” Luna said and stood up with determination “We are afraid that is not negotiable. We insist we use the royal ‘we’ when addressing ourselves. It’s traditional to do so when addressing our subjects, AND TO USE THIS MUCH VOLUME WHEN SPEAKING SO THAT- murph!”

Fenora groaned in annoyance as she shoved her hand into the Princess’s mouth. “Listen, it may be tradition for royalty in your world, but in this one it’s mostly makes it hard to understand you, or terrifies the living daylights out of people. So don’t do that all the time, ‘kay?”

“We-“ Luna quickly corrected herself when she saw Fenora nearly burst a vein. “I… accept your terms. What is our first step to destroying the dragon menace?”

“Well seeing as how we’re grounded without Jurgen’s horn, I was going to take the day off and relax. But since you’re here to stay, I guess I have different plans.” Fenora said as she got up and started walking “So let’s get you acclimated to Skyrim, shall we?”

“Umm Dragonborn, tell us again why we’re here.” Luna said as she and Fenora approached Jorrvasker, the hangout of the Companions.

“If you’re going to be any help to us in ridding Skyrim of its dragon problem, you’re going to need to learn a little about how we do our foightin’ in Skyrim.” Fenora explained “And no one in Skyrim knows more ‘bout foightin’ then the Companions.”

Fenora was not wrong. The second she swung the door open, sounds of a brawl filled the air. A nord woman and a dark elf were heatedly duking it out with a hot-headed actor from New Zealand.

“A’ight c’mon then! Ya don’ get away with takin’ the last sweetrolls while I’m around!” he yelled as he took a foightin’ stance, circling his fists around threateningly.

“Get his legs, I’ll go for the eyeballs!” one of the Companions yelled to the other.

“Oi crikey, mah face! You sods done it now!” the man in the sailor suit proclaimed as he threw a few solid punches into them.

As they strafed across the room and around the tables full of food and drink, the other Companions threw out advice.

“Move your feet!”, “Keep your guard up.”, and “Use your head!” were among the helpful tips given, but apparently the brawlers only heard the last bit, and all three came to the same conclusion from it.

Simultaneously they leant back, and with a grimace-inducing crack, flung their heads forward and smashed them together, two falling to the floor in a heap of throbbing pain a second later.

“Yeah you bettah stay down!” he yelled as he victoriously strutted around them “We’ll be back with more foightin’ after this commercial break!”

The best way to make new friends. Or was it "most painful"?

“Ah, another glorious day at the house of fun.” Fenora said jokingly as the two stepped forward into the hall where another two Companions had joined in the fight, Luna staring in shock at the brutal beatdown being taken so casually.

“Hail Companions!” Fenora greeted them.

“Dragonborn!” everyone greeted back with enthusiasm. “Dragonborn-in-da-house!” one called as he fell from the rafters.

A large man in metal armor engraved with stylized wolf insignias stepped forward to greet them. “So Dragonborn, you finally decide to join up with us and be a Companion?”

“Sorry, not today I’m afraid. But I could use some help if you’re willing. This is Luna; she’s a Princess from Equestria, that world Stross is from. Luna, this is Farkas one of the Companion’s inner circle.” Fenora introduced them.

“Not this again- I’m Vilkas. Farkas is my brother, over there.” Vilkas corrected and pointed to his twin brother, whom you could only tell apart by their different armor and possibly their different haircuts. “Regardless, it’s a pleasure to meet your new friend, not often we get royalty in Jorrvaskr. What brings you here?”

“I am here to help you slay the dragons!” Luna proudly proclaimed.

Everything went dead silent in the mead hall. The fighting ceased with the combatants in headlocks, and a few members stopped eating and drinking mid-bite.

And then what started as a fit of giggles lead to everyone bursting out in hearty laughter, and Fenora took the opportunity to facepalm.

“SILENCE!” Luna barked “We demand to know what be-ith so humorous!”

Vilkas being the first to recover, answered her “Don’t worry, we mean no offence. But you can hardly blame them, I mean look at you!” he held up one of her arms by the wrist and poked her bicep “You’ve gotta be crazy to think you can hack through dragon scales with these skinny sticks you call arms. Do you even lift?”

Luna smirked and her horn was coated in a light blue glow. Vilkas, who was caught off guard by what he assumed to be a headpiece, found himself floating upside-down several feet off the floor, wrapped in the same blue light.

“How’s this for lifting?” Luna said as she lightly spun him around, earning surprised looks from those present as they watched the display; even the most powerful mages in Tamriel couldn’t levitate something as large as a person.

“Oh, I get it now.” Farkas said with an amused laugh as he walked over “She’s a magic user, they’re all pretty wimpy when it comes to muscle.”

“Excuse me?!” Luna yelled as she grabbed Farkas and floated him up to the ceiling as well, along with a few bowls of fruit and meat, and began spinning them around in various patterns “Thou art foolish indeed to mock us, and even more if thou believe-ist this to be weak? We do not require physical strength to move the moon across the sky!”

“Luna, they're just morons, cut it out.” Fenora scolded her “And you know, you should probably take it easy with the levitating regardless. You can’t possibly keep that up much longer.”

Luna gawked at Fenora. “What? Even you doubt me? I- Magic! Alicorn! Moves the bucking moon!” she gestured to and around herself in an attempt to get her point across. Meanwhile Farkas and Vilkas were slammed into walls following her motions, everyone else ducking for cover as they flew overhead. “I am more than capable of a feat as meager as this.” Luna’s proudly proclaimed, her hands on her hips.

Luna was silent for several more seconds as she maintained her pose. But then her magical glow flickered and dispersed, dropping the brothers and the rest of the objects to the floor in a clatter, and she soon fell onto her face in much the same manner. “Ow.”

Fenora sighed “I tried to warn you, but it looks like you finally ran out of magika anyway.” she told Luna and pulled her shakily to her feet.

“What you speak of is impossible.” Luna said stubbornly, falling over again in the process “Magic is innate for all Equestrians! One does not simply ‘run out of magic’. T’would be like saying you ‘run out of the ability to see because you looked at things too much’ or ‘game developers ran out of ways to copy-paste multiplayer shooters because they put out too many’. It simply doesn’t happen!”

“Not magic, Ma-gi-ka. It’s what mages use to cast spells here; the more you use, the longer it takes for you to recover.” Fenora clarified “And by the looks of things, you’re pretty drained out, kinda like Stross was when he first arrived. Just lay there for a while, ‘kay?”

Luna slumped down dejectedly as Fenora looked around for the nearest able Companion.

“As we were saying, Luna’s going to be helping us with the dragons. Obviously she’s powerful with magic, but I’d like to see what else she’s capable of, and against someone that’s not me.” she explained to Skjor “So are there any jobs open that you need doing, or maybe anything evil that needs the stuffing beaten out of it?”

“Actually we do.” Skjor told them in his scratchy voice “A rabble of bandits has been skulking around the cemetery known as Hamvir’s rest. Recently they’ve captured a bunch of livestock, and sent a ransom note for three million septims! And if it stops you from wrecking our hall for us, you’re welcome to teach them a lesson.”

“Perfect! Come on Princess.” Fenora dragged her outside once more “You can juggle people later, we got bandits to wreck.”

“Little help here!” Farkas yelled after them. “I think my leg is broken again.”

“Mine’s broken more!” Vilkas challenged.

“Oh yeah? I got a fractured ribcage too! What do you got?”

“Displaced shoulder-blade and a concussion! Beat that!”

Luna and Fenora walked down through the marketplace, leaving Jorrvaskr behind them as they went to Breezehome to gear up.

Fenora had to hold her up as they walked. Teleporting between worlds apparently took a massive toll on the traveler that wasn’t quickly recovered from, and considering her subsequent skirmish with Fenora and Stross, and surviving in the belly of a fighting dragon for roughly half an hour, her current state was to be expected. And after her display of levitation in Jorrvaskr,  Luna had exhausted her magika even more severely, and with it, her body.

Seeing as how they weren’t going anywhere fast, Fenora decided to ask what had been on her mind for a good long while. “So Luna, why did you bother to come all this way just for Stross? You didn’t really think he was massing an army all by himself did you?”

Luna looked over, surprised by the question, but she answered nonetheless. “We dist not know what he was up to, nor if he were acting alone. We dared not take even the smallest chance of another attack. After the invasion of Canterlot we neither heard of nor saw anything of their queen. Our guards would find single strays every once in a great while, and pairs or groups even rarer.”

Luna let out a tired sigh, though not from her magic exhaustion. “Our sister has always been such a kind and forgiving soul; she would never be so aggressive as to hunt for them. But I feared they were planning something, waiting for us to get careless again and let our guard down.” Luna looked at the ground as she continued “We were completely absent during their first attempt, and because of this we nearly lost everything to them. I would never let such a thing happen again.”

“And what about Stross?” Fenora asked as the two made their way down the cobblestone street and into the marketplace “He never took part in that invasion. And from what he told me, he’s always tried to find a better alternative to the kinds of tactics his kind are known for. Do you think he was evil as the changelings that attacked your people?”

“We do not know anymore.” Luna told her honestly “If it helped you, even going as far to almost sacrifice itself to save you, and now even dying to fight what threatened your lands, it could not have been all evil.” Luna looked up in hopes of a second opinion “What did you believe when the two of you first met?”

“Well, considering we were about to be executed for being in the same square mile as a band of Stormcloak rebels, I wasn’t in the mood to judge. He was just in the same boat as the rest of us… riding into town on the back of a cart… about to get our heads chopped off while everyone watched.” Fenora told the story of when they met.

Luna looked more than a little shocked to hear of Skyrim’s policy on rebellions. “Are you serious?! They execute you for something as minor as that?! In Equestria we would never impose a death sentence, even for-”

“Rebellions involving the White-gold concordat are pretty serious after the Great War.” Fenora explained “It happened only a couple decades ago, recently enough for people to remember. A lot of lives were lost… and that treaty was the only thing that stopped the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire from wiping each other out.”

“But back to Stross,” Fenora steered the conversation “Really, I didn’t care why he was here or why he decided to stay and help like he did. All I knew was that he was a wonderful person; he was funny even when we didn’t need it, always helpful, kind, generous, and forgiving to a fault.”

“Are you sure he was a changeling?” Luna asked “That sounds far too nice to be one of those horrible creatures.”

“He told me he was ashamed of what he was, and what his kind did to survive. It was because of that, he always tried to be a good person. ‘more like ponies’ he told me.”

Luna smiled a bit.

“Although…” Fenora took a darker tone “When he got angry, or when someone was in danger, especially if it was me… I’ve never seen someone pull a 180 like that. It was like everything good and innocent just vanished from him and he became a merciless killer in an instant. He killed like nine bandits by sucking them dry and burning them to death.”

Fenora realized the kind of message she was sending once she saw the worried grimace Luna had, and quickly defended Stross’s actions. “But I know that wasn’t the real Stross, he’s not a bad person! He only did that stuff to protect innocent people he cared about, and punish the evil people that were hurting them.”

“Art thou quite sure? That sounds exactly like what a changeling would do. Nay, worse than what they are known for doing.” Luna said, quite unconvinced “What if you really have been blinded. What if his joyful nature were merely an act to cover his true self? Are we certain ‘tis not a good thing it has been slain?”

“I know beyond a doubt he was good.” Fenora told Luna with certainty “I was there when it all happened. When the last bandit tried to flee rather than attack like the others, Stross caught him. The bandit was barely more than and boy, and he begged for his life. Stross could have killed him easily, but instead he let him go.”

“That hardly says anything about-“

“And then Stross sat there crying, even when I came to him.” Fenora quickly cut in “If things had ended worse, if I died or wasn’t there to bring him out of his sadness, I don’t know what would have happened to him. He may very well have been lost that day.”

Luna’s argument died in her mouth, and the two were silent until they reached the end of the plains district.

Fenora kicked open the door to Breezehome and walked in.

“Greetings mistress! Greeting sexy house guest!” Laalette welcomed them.

“Hello pervy vampire lady.” Fenora greeted back, earning a smile and a blush from the recipient.

Once Luna was (more or less) comfortably seated, Fenora showed her where everything was, Laelette emphasizing her movements like a model on The Price is Right.

“Okay, so all the armors and enchanted jewelry in kept in these chests… go ahead and use whatever suits you.” she opened the chest and Laelette put on a helmet to demonstrate. “Potions are kept in the alchemy lab, the ones that heal and restore magika are the clear-ish red and blue ones on top. I wouldn’t drink any of the others, most of them might kill you.”

Laelette put Mister Yuck sticker on several of the bottles.

Fenora walked back to the kitchen area. “And we stuff whatever food we don’t immediately eat into these cabinets here.” She tapped at the latched wooden door, cautiously moving back as it trembled. “Anyway, make yourself at home, gather some supplies, and make sure to chug a few magika potions. We’ll head out in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Dragonborn.” Luna said as she stood up “This is all very kind of you.”

“You want to help me fight dragons, now that’s being kind.” Fenora complimented “Anyway, I’ll be right back, I uhh… need to check on something.”

“Very well, we shall await your return.” Luna smiled.

“Okay,” Fenora said as she walked out the door “just ask Laelette if you need anything. She’ll be more than happy to help.”

…

Luna froze and watched with dread as the door closed, leaving her trapped in the house with the vampire lady. Luna imagined in horror all the things that beast likely wished to do to her, all those unspeakably vile things.

Suddenly she noticed it: the breathing, the slow heavy breathing right on her neck.

“That’s right.” came the cheerful whisper right next to her ear “Aaaaannnyything at all.”

Laelette slowly stroked Luna’s flowing hair and nuzzled her neck as her captive stood there in a cold sweat. “Anything.”

Chills went up Luna’s spine and her stomach tightened when she felt fingers sliding down her shoulder… then across her waist… onto her belly… and upwards towards her-

“NAY! AWAY FROM ME, VILE CREATURE!” Luna shoved Laelette and her encroaching grip off of her “If thou will truly do anything for us, then keep thineself at a respectable distance at all times!”

Laelette gave a look of shock at first, and was so silent that Luna wasn’t sure she’d actually heard. But then she simply shrugged and wandered off humming a tune.

“I do believe I have made a grave error in staying here.” Luna sighed.

Meanwhile outside, a certain Bosmer was looking in every possible nook and cranny for her changeling friend.

“Stross? Hey Stross, where are you?” Fenora called in as she rounded the corner of the winds district for the fifth time.

The elf had looked nearly everywhere for him. She checked under the roofing of buildings, hiding in bushes, inside barrels, she even lifted up a few floorboards but didn’t find him. Knowing of his shape-shifting prowess, she cornered a few of the townspeople, asking if they were Stross in disguise until the guards told her to stop slapping people with fish.

Hoping to gain a vantage point, she climbed up to the Skyforge, where Eorlund was busy sharpening swords.

“Where are you?” she asked, more to herself than anyone else as she looked across Whiterun.

“Looking for your friend?” Eorlund begrudgingly turned away from his work to address her “He’s in there. Tell him the Skyforge is not a hot-tub.”

“Eorlund you ratted me out! We had a deal, man!” came a voice from behind.

Fenora whipped around to see Stross fearfully peeking out from his hiding place among the molten embers. “Stross?! What in actual Oblivion-”

“Shusss-ssshh!” Stross quickly silenced her and ducked back down into the fiery kiln, spitting out a few sparks as he spoke “She’ll find me if you’re too loud.”

“What are you doing?!” Fenora tried kept her voice as quiet as possible, a difficult feat considering what she was seeing.

“Hiding.”

“I can see that, but why in the gods names would you hide in there? How aren’t you burning alive?!” she knelt as close as she could without getting burned herself.

Stross would have normally explained that because the Skyforge is built atop a magical leyline and therefore taps into the lifestream of Nirn itself, he can absorb energy from its infinitely renewing pools of ancient and primal power. And with all that lifeforce coursing through him he enters into a supercharged state where his changeling healing factor heals his burns faster than the fires can make them…

But since he was still terrified out of his mind by the thought of Luna impaling him on her horn and disintegrating him from the inside out, all that came out of his mouth was “Skyforge heals me. Skyforge is my friend. Skyforge keeps me safe. Safe from crazy murder Princess. Why you not do the same Fen? I loves you!”

“Stross, you’re overreacting.” Fenora told him plainly “You told me the two alicorn sisters are noble and caring rulers. If that’s true, then Luna can’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be. And she wants to help me slay dragons and save the world, just like you do. You even heard her say it was because you died fighting for that cause that she stayed to help in the first place. We should all work together.”

“Nope nope nope!” Stross allowed himself to sink a bit lower “Tried to kill me. Hates changelings. I’m a changeling. Hates me, wants to kill kill kill. Finds out I’m alive… same old story.”

“Stross, I know you’re afraid, and you have every right to be. But she’s already agreed to follow my lead, and if anything’s going to give us a chance of stopping Alduin, I think a demi-god will give us an at least a small advantage. Will you trust her not to hurt you and come out of there?”

“Nuh uh!”

“Please? You know I won’t let her hurt you if things go bad.”

“No!”

“Stross-”

“I don’t wanna die!”

“You won’t die! I already told her about what you’re like. She doesn’t know if you’re good, but she won’t kill you on sight. That’s way better than before.” Fenora tried to reason with Stross “If you don’t want her to think you’re evil, you should show her you’re not. Show her the sweet innocent person you’ve shown me. Show her the changeling I would trust with my life.”

Stross was silent in thought for a while… and then he blew a flaming raspberry at her.

“Stross this is ridiculous! I need you!”

Stross was silent.

“Are you even listening anymore?” Fenora was seriously getting tired of his antics.

“My sources say no.” he answered plainly after a while.

“So what, are you just going to stay there forever?”

“Signs point to yes.”

“And I’m just supposed to go on ahead without you then?” Fenora asked, having a hard time believing he’d hide forever out of fear of Luna.

“As I see it, yes.”

“We wish to engage in conversation with the magical talking forge as well!” came a new voice.

The last unsubmerged inch of Stross’s face vanished in an instant, and Fenora looked over to see Princess Luna standing there, still oblivious to Stross’s continued existence.

“She’s an okay person! Give her a chance!”

The forge was silent.

"You'll need to stop this sooner or later."

The forge responded by being a forge.

“You know what? Fine! Be that way.” Fenora yelled defiantly at the coals, much to Luna’s confusion “I’m going to prove that we can trust her, just you watch! Come on Luna, we’ve got bandits to rout.”

“We shall be there in a moment.” Luna turned back to the Skyforge and thought of a question to ask “Magic forge, what is the meaning of life?”

“Forty-two.”

“A wise answer. We would also have accepted cake, love, or a hilarious Monty Python movie as an answer. Okay, next question. Magic forge, pray tell what is my sister Celestia doing at this moment?”

“Reading Thyme magazine while sitting on her plot, eating cake.” The forge responded, to which Luna giggled at the image.

“Final question,” Luna took a serious tone “what did Fenora, the one that was here before, talk to thee about?”

The forge paused awkwardly “Umm… Answer unclear, try again later?”

“Buck, this always happens. I shall have to find my answers elsewhere.”

Outside the gates of Whiterun, two figures walked along; one moved at a quickened and determined pace, the other desperately trying to keep up.

“Art thou truly sure thou were not talking about us with the forge?” Luna asked.

“Yes.” came a flat and tired response from Fenora.

“Art thou reeeeeaaally sure?” Luna said after a moment “Because it seemed as though you were quite-

“Luna!” Fenora spun on her heel to face her annoying new acquaintance “For the seventeenth time, yes I’m sure I wasn’t talking about you with the forge! Now will you please-“

“STOP!” a voice interrupted them, and a man in padded iron armor with polished leggings ran up to them “Wait! Wait for me!”

The two watched as he reached them, doubled over panting for breath.

“Can I help you?” Fenora asked before she recognized him “Wait a minute… Erik?”

“Ah yes, you recognize me!” he said happily “I’m glad I was able to catch you before you left, Skjor says you’re leaving to deal with some bandits. Can I come with you? I’ve been dying to see some real action.”

“So, you actually went through with your plans to become an adventurer.” Fenora observed, not sure whether to be proud of his courage, or to be pissed that he didn’t take her advice and live a safer life.

“Indeed. I’m the newest member of the Companions! I fetch the mead!” he cheerfully proclaimed “And I can help you too! I would be honored to go on a mission with the legendary Dragonborn! I can even carry your supplies for you.” Erik pointed to a stack of crates and boxes sitting in the middle of the road.

“Uhh, those aren’t ours.” Fenora told him as she looked over at the boxes.

“Really?” Erik asked “They’ve been following you at a respectable distance for a while now.”

A light instantly went on in Fenora’s head, and she massaged her eyes when she realized who was hiding in those boxes. “Just… just leave them alone and let’s go.”

Meanwhile, the boxes were having a conversation of their own as they watched the party from a distance.

“And there they go. What are you doing Fenora? This is crazy!” Stross thought as he watched them trudge off down the path “Luna might love her little ponies as much as her sister, maybe more, but changelings are universally hated in Equestria; no amount of kindness or earning her trust will change that. But I won’t leave you behind! Friends forgive each other for doing stupid stuff, and Fenora, you and I are great friends… working on pushing it further than that, but being friends is a good start.”

Stross made a mental note to try some romantic things when the two of them had time.

“What was I talking about? Oh yeah.”

“Fen, you’ll see that we can’t trust that Princess and that I’m right to be afraid. And when you do, I’ll be there to come up with a new plan to send Luna packing and save both our skins. But right now I just need something to show how hostile she is… I need something… something… hmm…”

“Hey!” came a shout that made Stross drop his disguise and nearly jump out of his shell “No plotting, scheming or planning within thirty feet of the city entrance! Move along.”

“Right, sorry guardsman.” Stross reassumed a disguise and follow after the three.

Fenora and Luna walked down the dirt road towards Hamvir’s rest, the slowly setting sun on their backs, both wishing they had something to relieve headaches, because they sure as Shor had one.

“And then Vilkas told him ‘but it would only take one from my sword to cut you in half’. You should have seen the look Athis had on his face! He was like ‘Oh, okay. But my way’s good too’. And then they told me to get them more mead.” Erik excitedly told them about his experiences with the Companions, to which they were getting quite tired of hearing.

“How much further is it?” Luna whined as Erik started up another story of how he brought a shield to Eorlund to be repaired. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

“It shouldn’t be too much further.” Fenora told her and got a brilliant idea “Hey Erik!” she called “How’d you like to scout ahead for us?”

Erik clapped his hands together. “You’ve got it! The other Companions tell me to do that all the time!” he then ran ahead.

“I can’t possibly imagine why.” Fenora deadpanned.

As they continued to walk, Fenora noticed Luna was uncomfortably struggling with her clothes, tugging at the shoulders and sides of her shirt. “Something wrong?” she asked.

“It’s. These. Clothes.” Luna said in between jerking around “We do not understand how your species wears them all the time, they are simply unbearable. And we cannot. Seem to. Get our… wings… free!”

Fenora walked over and grabbed hold of the squirming woman. “Here, hold still.” She said as she turned her around and pulled out a small knife.

A pair of rips and subsequent fwoops later and Luna’s midnight wings extended comfortably through the new holes in her shirt, a relief for which she was immensely grateful for. “Ah, thank you. You have no idea how much better that feels.” She said as she stretched them “You know, I’m beginning to see why the changeling was so fond of you.”

“He’s a really nice guy.” Fenora told her as she re-sheathed her knife “I think he just wanted someone to love him for who he was. And that someone happened to be me.”

“Indeed. Yet it still boggles the mind to think of a changeling as such.” Luna said as they walked onward “They’ve never shown such compassion before, nor such an innocent desire as to love and be loved.”

“None of them, or just the ones you’ve found?” Fenora questioned “Stross told me there were others like him, other good changelings. It’s just there are a lot more bad ones, and those ones are the ones that get noticed.”

Luna slowed her pace as she thought about that. Never before had she entertained the notion that the changelings they’d encountered were not all that defined the species. Maybe there was more to them, aspects that were hidden from her view. It was certainly something to bring up upon her return.

After several minutes of walking, and diverging from the beaten path, they found Erik who beckoned them to come over. They came and crouched down on a ledge, just within scouting distance of the bandit encampment the Companions had told them about, yet hidden from view by a number of trees and low-hanging branches.

“Is that the camp in which the bandits reside?” Luna asked as they gazed out.

“If it is, then they took way more than just a few livestock.” Erik said in a dread filled tone.

A fair distance below them was the graveyard known as Hamvir’s rest. It was a bit small, and a lot of nightshade grew there. But the humble cemetery had clearly underwent a list of changes in recent days, including a crude gate and archer towers at the entrance, an altar and a set of flowing banners showing praise and devotion to some Daedric Prince.

But most notable among the new décor were large steel cages that lined the ridgeline above the cemetery, each packed with living occupants ranging from pigs and sheep to merchants and farmers, one of which was being dragged out by two people in black robes.

“Well what are we waiting for?!” Erik got up and made to charge down the cliff-side and burst heroically into the camp and save the day.

Fenora stopped him before he got more than a few feet. “What we’re waiting for is an opportunity to attack. As much as I want to help, we’ll need a plan so we don’t get slaughtered by those cultists.” Fenora pointed out the twelve to fifteen other robed figures armed with daggers and magic, along with the two archers manning the towers.

“Well that didn’t stop her!” Erik complained.

Fenora snapped her head to where he was pointing and saw Luna swooping down on the camp with Royal-Canterlot yells of “HALT, BLASPHAMOUS WORSHIPERS OF EVIL BEINGS!”

“Or we could just charge in like idiots and hope for the best.” Fenora said sarcastically, immediately regretting it when Erik took off to join Luna in the fight. “Wait, I didn’t mean that littera- Oh fuck it.”

She let out an annoyed sigh before drawing her sword and charging off with them.

“Okay guys, are we absolutely sure those snooty skeever-holes up in Whiterun ain’t gonna pay up?” the head cultist asked the loyal followers gathered before him.

One member raised his hand.

“Yes, you.” the leader acknowledged him.

“Does it count if they pay us in mayonnaise?”

“No it doesn’t count if they pay us in mayonnaise.” The leader said flatly.

The cultist lowered his hand, only to hopefully raise it once more.

“No, horseradish doesn’t count either.” The leader pre-emptively dismissed him, and the hand was lowered again.

The lead cultist sighed, he and his rag-tag order had spent the last three weeks capturing all these people and animals, caging them up and listening to them whine about being hungry, and now they weren’t getting their ransom. Three weeks!

“Well alright then… looks like we get to sacrifice them!” he announced, all the other members cheering in response. “FOR OUR LORD DAGON!” he yelled.

“For Dagon!” the others echoed as they brought forth the first to be killed, a scrawny farmhand that looked absolutely ragged from their neglect.

They brought him to the altar and chained him into a standing position which he slumped from once they released him from their grasp. Fearfully the boy looked around at the robed figures slowly chanting in an alien tongue as their leader stepped forward with a large axe.

In a final act of defiance, he glared up at his doom and spat at it, resentfully declaring “Just get it over with you filthy jelly-pigs, I’ll haunt your every waking second, you hear me?!”

The lead cultist paused, axe in prime swinging position in the air above his head, he just stared at the prisoner limply hanging before him before slowly letting the axe down.

The prisoner was astonished. Was he being spared? Could these maniacally twisted people really be showing him merc- *SMACK*

The prisoner’s eye twitched a few times, his face frozen in a grimace while the cultist leader stared down under his hood and every other person winced in empathy. And then the winds of Oblivion came loose from the prisoner’s mouth.

“AAAAAHHH! Son of a cow! You kicked me in the BALLS! Who by the gods even does- *SMACK*

“GAAH HAAHA! You did it again! You did it a- *SMACK*

“AAAOOOWW HOO HOO! Why do you keep doing that?! Just kill me already!” he wailed in agony.

The leader grinned through yellowed teeth. “Behold! The sacrificial rites passed down to the chosen of Mehrunes Dagon! None shall escape it!” he addressed all the other prisoners “And no one will save you now.”

But you know… you really shouldn’t jinx it like that.

“HALT, BLASPHAMOUS WORSHIPERS OF EVIL BEINGS!” came a thunderous call from above.

Every cultist in the graveyard spun around and turned their gaze skyward to see what addressed them so fearsomely. Hovering above them with a steady beat of wings was a woman illuminated in the torchlight and setting sun, her dark blue silhouette and long starry hair accented with streaks of orange and gold.

“THOU SHALT CEASE THIS IMMEDIATELY OR BE DESTROYED!” she threatened “WHAT SAY THEE?!”

All below Luna were silent for a moment in awe.

“Sacrifice the bird lady!” one of them yelled, and all the others yelled their approval.

Suddenly the air was filled with arrows and spells and cabbages. Luna huffed as she dodged them, muttering “So be it.” and she blasted a line through the ground with her magic as she dived towards them, staggering a couple and incapacitating one unlucky enough to catch the beam head on.

Reinforcements quickly arrived as Erik leapt from the steep cliff and goomba stomped a cultist beneath his shiny leg armor. The cultist to his right was caught off guard by his sudden entrance and turned to confront him with lighting crackling in his hands.

But before the spell could be cast, it quickly fizzled in his hands a large sword pierced through his upper torso. He fell to the ground as the sword’s owner landed a foot away and grasped its handle once more, pulling it from his carcass.

“Well,” said Fenora as she stared at the four other cultists aiming spells at her and Erik “this won’t be easy. You see, this is why we come up with a plan of-“

“Attack!” Erik screamed as he drew his mace and shield and charged forth into the fray once more.

Fenora felt a vein pulse in her forehead. “Gods DAMMIT, if we live through this I’ll kill you all!” she yelled as she cut down the nearest robed assailant and used his body as a meat shield for the lighting and flames inbound.

In the sudden chaos taking place in Hamvir’s Rest, no one noticed a lone deer waltz through the open gates.  In the confusion, no one noticed it walk over and buck the prison guard unconscious. And with the noise of the fighting, no one even cared as it pulled out a pair of lockpicks and began opening the locks with to the cages, freeing the prisoners.

“Well this is a right mess.” Stross thought to himself as he wielded his hooves with a familiar dexterity “’She’s an okay person, I’ll prove it, we should all work together’ bleh bleh bleh… well look how that’s going so far. Even I didn’t get us this much trouble- Ah hah! Got it!”

Stross let the cage door wing open and spoke to the very confused people inside. “Quick, now’s your chance, run for it!” he said in a loud whisper and gestured to the exit.

The occupants, a man and a woman, stared at him with eyes wide open and jaws slacked.

“A talking deer! Gran-mum was right!” the man blurbed before they both passed out.

“Or just, you know… scream and faint.” Stross said sarcastically before pulling them onto his back and slowly carrying them out. “It’s gonna be a long night.” He sighed as he eyed the several other cages full of hostages.

“Zun Haal Viik!” Fenora thu’umed at a cultist charging at her with a dagger, easily disarming him before bashing him across the face with the broadside of her sword. “How many we got left? Let’s see two… four, five… nine; are you kidding? Erik!”

“Don’t blame me friend!” Erik defended as he held off solid spikes of ice being hurled at him.

Fenora turned to the other fighting member of their party who was ducking and weaving through the air “Luna, what are you even doing to them, anyway!?”

“We art trying to get them to surrender, yet they keep getting back up to attack us.” Luna explained as she dodged another arrow and blasted the perpetrator until he fell to his knees.

“No more! I yield!” the archer cried for mercy.

“Thou hast already claimed that nine times now!” Luna exclaimed.

Fenora facepalmed with her free hand. “Just kill them already! They’re clearly evil!” she delivered a kick to one advancing on her from the right and cleanly severed his head while he was off balance.

“Nay! Horrid though they are, there must be a way to make them see reason!” Luna refused, but suddenly found herself tangled up in something and unable to fly.

“That’ll hold ya!” the cultist leader said maliciously as he tightened the net and dragged her to the ground “Now hold still while I carve you up for din-dins.” He smiled and pulled out a wickedly curved knife.

“I think not!” Luna teleported out from the intertwined rope and grabbed the leader by the scruff of his robe “We shan’t be your meal, you vile fiend!”

The leader made a slimy grin and placed his hands, now alight with a purple field onto Luna’s shoulders. She immediately began to feel weak. Realizing what he was doing she threw him away and backstepped, using her wings to get some extra distance.

The leader cultist’s grin grew wider as he marveled at how much magical energy he was able to snatch in such a short time. His gaze turned back to Luna and he sprinted forward with his hands outstretched, yearning for more.

“Power.” he rasped.

“Get back, creature.” Luna warned as she charged up her horn.

“Unlimited power!” the leader screamed as lightning shot forth from both his hands.

Luna countered his magic with her own and a clash of spells erupted before them. Both seemed equally matched, though Luna was holding back significantly, unwilling to do more harm than needed. The cultist knew not this common courtesy, and let loose with all he had.

The clash would have ended in a stalemate until the cultist ran out of magika, if an arrow hadn’t struck Luna in the back. It was a minor injury, especially for an alicorn, but it broke her focus just long enough for her to be overwhelmed by her opponent’s spell. She grunted in discomfort and fell to her knees as the lightning coursed through her. In seconds the cult leader had her in his draining hands, and she had not the strength to shove him away again as he leeched her reserves of magic that had only recently recovered.

Luna could hear him cackling hysterically as she began to feel faint. She knew she would have to do something, and welled up as much energy as she could for one final blast, but the pounding in her head denied her the focus she needed to actually cast anything. All she could do was pull at the cultist’s hands in frustration.

But then an ally of her own intervened and a glowing mass stuck itself to the cultist’s face before exploding in a blinding flash of light. The cult leader shrieked in pain and clutched his face, releasing Luna and tumbling to the ground; seconds later he spontaneously combusted.

“No!” he screamed as he was consumed by the flames “No! No! NO!” he yelled over and over “Gah. The Daahk side!”

Luna stared in both shock and relief, both of which were interrupted by something lightly tapping her leg. Looking to the ground she saw a large blue bottle sitting there, another quickly rolled up next to it. Not willing to question this good fortune in her exhausted state, she quickly took them and drank them down, breathing normally again once she had.

...

“Luna! You alright?” Fenora ran up to her having finally slain those in her path “I think that was the last of them.”

“Yes, I am alright.” Luna said as Fenora helped her up “Thank you for that. Had it not been for you I may have been defeated by a lowly demon worshiper.”

“Daedra.” Fenora corrected “And what do you mean? I was fighting off his followers this whole time.”

“Then who-“

“Oi!”  came a shout from outside “ S’with all dat racket in there?! Yew blokes ain’t started ‘thout us, did ya!?”

Just then a large number of robed cultists, at least ten, stormed through the front gates into the already crowded cemetery, a large armored Orc with a massive axe at the front. “Ooh, well well well. Wot we got ‘ere? A boonch of would be heroes come to save tha day.” He jeered.

“Boss, no one can understand you when you talk like that.”

“Yew wot mate?! Shadup fore I punts you in yer gabber!” the orc yelled “With Leader Palm Patent dead, ah’m in charge naow. An ah says we kills them!” he jabbed a finger at Fenora and the gang.

“You got it boss!” one of the cultists said.

“What did yew just call me?!”

“S-sorry! I meant Mister Boss.” the robed man stammered.

“Bettah. Nah then.” The orc turned to our heroes “Yew lousy whores be in for a world o’ hurt for whatcha done! Get ‘em boys!” he ordered, and all but one of his followers charged at them. “Oi! Ah gave yew an order! Why ain’t ya runnin’ at ‘em like the rest?” he questioned the one that remained.

“Uhh, yeah. See about that… It just doesn’t seem like that great of an idea, ya know?” The lone cultist pointed to the rest of their dark order, who had either been beaten senseless at this point, or were lying in pools of their own blood.

“I’ll show you a great idea!” Mister Boss yelled as he grabbed up the cultist and threw him at our heroes and began bearing down on them “Ya want somethin’ done roight, do it yerself!”

The orc by the name of Mister Boss then swung his massive axe with tremendous speed, leaving our heroes barely enough time to get out of the way. He growled as he hefted his axe out of the crater it formed on impact with the ground.

“Fall, you beast!” Luna yelled as she blasted him with her magic.

Mister Boss chuckled “Hah, oh ho! That one tickled a bit!” he then roared as he charged at her, struggling through the powerful streams the moon Princess fired at him.

Mister Boss grabbed her waist in his massive fist and constricted her until she screamed in pain and he heard bones crack. He then slammed her against a nearby wall and snarled in her face “No one zaps me and gets away with it!” before shoulder ramming her into the wall again and flung her away.

“Luna! I’ve got you. Don’t worry, I’ll take it from here.” Fenora caught her and turned to face the orc. “What’chu know about giant weapons, hater?” Fenora ran up and swung her greatsword at him.

Both combatants were skilled in the use of oversized weapons, but even under her sword’s weight, Fenora was faster, and she quickly had Mister Boss on the defensive. As he struggled to keep up with her blows, he had to use the handle of his axe as a barrier between him and the elf until he finally got the opportunity to shove her back.

“Hah! Yer pretty good with a blade fer such a teeny wench!” he mocked.

“The fuck did you just call me?!” Fenora scowled “Fus Ro DAH!” she blasted him with her thu’um, not blowing him over, due to his impressive size, but staggering him nonetheless.

In the split second his guard was down, Fenora drove her sword through his armor into his gut. This created a lever which she then used to do an acrobatic flip and a build up momentum as she smashed her foot into his face with an audible crack. She allowed herself to fall on the ground afterwards, believing to have broken his neck with the angle his head was turned.

Unfortunately, this proved to be wrong when Mister Boss slowly turned his head back in her direction with a dislocated jaw and an enraged glare.

“Oh shi- Ahh!“ Fenora tried to scramble to her feet, but wasn’t fast enough.

Mister Boss grabbed her leg and swung her through the air towards the ground again, then into a wall, then the ground, then the side of an iron cage, then the ground, each impact punctuated by a number of sickening cracks and a word out of Fenora like “Fuck” or “you” or “hulking piece of shi-” or most of the time, just a variation of “Ow”.

Once he was finally done thrashing her like a ragdoll, the orc dragged her over and slammed her down onto Luna, who was just beginning to recover.

“Hey Luna, fancy meeting you here.” Fenora groaned, and Luna did the same.

“Well ‘en.” Mister Boss towered over them and realigned his broken jaw and pulled Fenroa’s sword from his stomach “S’been fun. But now’s time to end this.”

He then raised his axe with a snarl, intent on cleaving through them both at the same time. But he was halted when a spear of molten steel skewered him through the back.

“NO YOU FLIPPING DON’T!” a distorted voice echoed through the graveyard as six more spears of red-hot liquid metal pierced through the orc’s flesh in rapid succession, bringing him to his knees howling in pain.

Out of the darkness of the cages overlooking the graveyard descended Stross, his black form ablaze and his blue eyes full of righteous fury.

He grabbed the screaming orc in his talons, silencing him by squeezing his throat. Stross leaned in, smoke wafting from his nose and mouth before speaking in a cold and angry tone “No one hurts my friends. No one hurts the ones I love! Compared to their lives… fear… is nothing.”

Stross held up his hand and tightened his fingers as magic coursed through them, flame erupting in his hand, but contained instead of wild. More and more fire pooled in his hand until it became solid.

“Never again.” Stross muttered as the solid fire became a blade.

With a single sideways swing, Stross's burn blade cleanly severed the top of orc’s skull, helmet, hood and everything.

The fire went cold in Stross’s hands and the metal fell to the ground with a clang. The lingering flames engulfing Stross extinguished and he turned his attention to his wounded friends. Fenora had her eyes closed, but was still breathing. Luna on the other hand had her eyes open in absolute terror, which only grew as he started walking over.

She desperately tried to get out from under Fenora so she could defend herself, but with her crushed pelvis and ribs, she didn’t get far.

“It’s okay, I’m here to help you.” He reassured her as he knelt down beside them. Stross pulled out a pair of healing potions and put a silly straw one of the bottles, handing it to Luna.

She hesitantly took it and watched silently as the changeling poured the other into Fenora’s mouth. An orange healing glow surrounded the two as Stross spoke.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered “Please don’t hate me.”

Fenora groaned and let out a chuckle. “Stross… I should be begging you to not hate me.” and with that she closed her eyes and leaned into him. “I’m sorry.”

Stross smiled and held her as he sustained his healing aura, but soon the changeling felt something else rub up against him. He looked over and saw Luna sitting next to him, struggling to keep upright.

“I am sorry as well.” She said sincerely, through the pain “I had no right to accuse and assault you as I did, please forgive me.”

She wrapped her unbroken arm around Stross’s neck and leaned on him for support, something Stross no longer had any fears of. And so the three of them just sat there for a while, recovering from their injuries as friends and comrades as the sky darkened and the stars began to shine.

…

Meanwhile, trapped under a pile of dead cultists, Erik knew he had one heck of a story to tell back at Jorrvaskr.

Luna's allergic to Skyrim!

“And then the big orc was all ‘Rawr!’ and he lifted his axe over his head about to cleave them in two, but then these spears made of solid fire impaled him, one after another and Stross was all like ‘No one hurts my friends.’ And then he cut the orc’s head off with a flaming sword of fire and death and it was so awesome!”

The companions had gathered around in the mead hall, actually listening to Erik for once as he excitedly told of the battle.

“Then once they helped me out from under all the dead cultists- Which I killed all by myself by the way! -We all victoriously dragged our battered bodies back, and now we’re here.” he finished to a round of applause.

“That’s nothing.” Farkas commented “Skjor and Kodlak fought a flock of rabid chickens from Hyrule and lived to tell the tale.”

As boasting and arguing broke out across the hall and quickly turned to brawling, Skjor was busy coughing up payment to one of the battered heroes.

“Well it sounds like the problem was much worse than we’d assumed. Luckily you all managed to deal with it. The reward was originally two-hundred gold. But all things considered… we went ahead and doubled it.” Skjor took out a bag of coins and handed it to Fenora “For your trouble.”

“Thanks, it’s really because of Stross that we all got out of there in one piece.” She gave a hollow laugh as she pocketed the coin, thinking of a way to repay him for saving her bacon yet again.

“Speaking of which, the people you rescued during your raid wanted to offer their thanks as well and said to give you those.” Skjor pointed to a pair of large bags sitting near the door.

Inside were small amounts of septims, a couple pelts, and some cooked foods; Sweetrolls, baked potatoes, salted meats and the such. On top was a small note that read: “Thanks for saving us from those maniacs, and not letting us die from getting repeatedly kicked in the balls. We owe you big time.”

Fenora smiled. It was an awkward smile, but a genuine one. She carefully shoved the note into her pocket, picked up the bags, and left to share the good news with the others... after she sold off all the loot that Erik didn't bother to take.

A few hours later it was another sunny mid-morning when the door to Breezehome was once again kicked open and knocked off its hinges by its newest owner.

“I’m home!” she called as she set the bags down on the nearest unoccupied shelf “How’s everyone doing?”

Suddenly there was a crash and a tumbling of wood splinters as a portion of the already decimated ceiling exploded.

“Fen!” Stross yelled as he poked his head through the most recently added hole in the second floor “Get up here now! Luna’s not getting any better, you gotta help!”

Shaking off her surprise, Fenora quickly made her way up the stairs where she found Luna laying exhausted under the covers of the bed, barely able to move. She walked over to the bedside and placed her hand on Luna’s forehead, trying to find any abnormal temperature. Though instead of burning up like she expected, Luna’s skin was clammy and freezing cold.

“She been like this ever since we got back and I don’t know what to do! I tried healing potions, magika potions, hot soup; nothing seems to make her any better! And Laelette went off to seek help from some ancient order of vampires of something.” Stross said in hysterics as he shook Fenora like a snow globe “What are we gonna do? WHAT are we going to do?!”

Fenora clenched his head in her hands, slapped him, and looked him dead in the eyes. “Stross, calm down.” she released him once he complied “Now tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

Stross took a deep breath and began to explain. “Okay, it all started around the time we got back…

*Flashback* *screen ripple* *harp strum* *finding out what happened… yeah*

A group of three people slowly approached the Whiterun gates in the fading darkness of night as sunlight slowly crept into view over the horizon. On the left was an elf with silver hair using a broadsword as a walking stick, to the far right was a woman with blue wings and a clashing green outfit, and in the center of them was a scale-skinned creature with sky-blue eyes; each of them was leaning on the other for support as they trudged along. Far proceeding them was a young adventurer with shiny leggings, who was holding open the gate.

“Finally made it.” huffed the elf “You two head home and rest, I’ll head to Jorrvaskr and tell them we’ve dealt with their cultist problem. ‘Rabble of bandits’ indeed.” she muttered sarcastically as she walked off.

Stross waved goodbye and turned to Princess Luna, who had practically glommed onto him to stop from falling over. “You doing alright? Nothing severely injured? No homicidal thoughts towards me?”

“We are managing just fine.” she answered, attempting to stand up on her own power as they continued towards Breezehome “Though I fail to see why we couldn’t have just left all that junk behind and collected it tomorrow, it’s not like it would have disappeared.”

Stross nodded with a sigh remembering all the loot Fenora had stripped of the cultist’s bodies and dragged with her as they made their way back, and how significantly it slowed their pace as she strained to walk under the weight. “Well… yeah. But I guess we do need the money for… things… and stuff.”

“But who in their right minds would purchase those blood-soaked robes and ritual knives?” Luna asked.

“The merchants in Skyrim are weird.” Stross told Luna as he opened the door and helped her inside “They’ll buy anything, all day, every day.”

“Oh, so the merchants here are from the griffon kingdom?” Luna gave a hearty laugh, but soon realized that Stross hadn’t joined her and was merely giving a quizzical stare. “Oh, I suppose that is what would be called an… inside joke?”

“Ahem, regardless,” Luna quickly straitened herself up “I would also like to inform thee that in the interest of saving an entire world from destruction, there shall be no further hostilities towards thee on our part. And…” Luna averted her gaze, a sheepish look on her face “we wanted to apologize once more for our previous aggression. Thou hast shown thine intent to be noble, and we hope you can forgive us.”

Luna looked up to see Stross giving her a warm smile and holding out his hand, which she gladly shook as a sign of agreement.

“And I’m sorry for freaking out, faking my own death and trying to plot your fiery downfall while you thought I was dead.”

“What?” Luna blinked.

“Nothing!” Stross said quickly as their hands parted “It doesn’t matter now. As long as you’re here to help, I’m sure we’ll come to like each other. You’ll see, not all changelings are evil.

“Perhaps we shall, thank you for giving us this chance. We promise thus forth that thee… that thee shan’t regret… allowing us to…” Luna trailed off, remembering that she was late for an important meeting between her face and the floor.

*End flashback**Oh that ain't good*

“And then she just fell face first on the floor! I’ve been trying everything ever since!” Stross finished, his panic having returned. “I swear I had nothing to do with this!”

“I am alright… really.” came a very weak and groggy voice.

The two of them turned to see Luna trying to sit herself up, her skin was pale and covered in sweat and there were dark bags under her bloodshot eyes. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” she told them unconvincingly.

“Are you sure about that? You look a little sick.” Fenora walked to her side, Stross following closely behind “Actually, scratch that. You look really sick.”

“Nonsence, we have never felt-“ Luna stopped mid-sentence to heave the contents of her stomach into a nearby urn “Ugh… better.”

Fenora just stared at her for a second. “That settles it.” she said “We’re taking you to the doctor’s.”

“No please! Not the doctor’s!” Luna continued to protest as Fenora carried her through the streets of Whiterun towards the temple of Kynareth.

“Technically they’re priests.” Stross corrected as he followed behind with a box of tissues and ice packs “Skyrim doesn’t have ‘doctors’ per say, so they make do with divine magic and mumbo jumbo from the local priests.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Luna yelled, still trying to wiggle free from her blanket cocoon. “I tell thee that doctors are evil!” she recalled horrible memories of needles, cold metal and old magazines.

They finally arrived at the great wooden doors of the temple and Stross knocked on the door. Within a few seconds, one of the priests answered and welcomed them inside.

“Hello there, my name is Danica Pure-spring. I had to change my name so I could apply for another medical license. How may I harm you today?”

“Umm… don’t you mean ‘help’?” Stross asked.

“Not sure, but you know what they say about the healing process. You’ll always get worse before you get better.” Danica sing-songed the inspirational quote “And if that’s true, then my last patients are going to be great when they stop being dea- I mean… sleeping. Yes… sleeping in a deep, coma-like healing sleep.”

Luna shivered in her cocoon as Fenora and Stross looked between one another unsurely.

“Well… our friend Luna is sick, and we don’t know what’s wrong.” Fenora said slowly “We were hoping you could help… But maybe we shouldn’t bother-”

“Nonsense! Of course I can help! Come on in!” Danica exclaimed happily as she snatched Luna from them and brought them into large room inside.

The room was just inside the entrance. Bookshelves and small tables scarcely decorated the edges of the room, while the middle of the floor was bare, and illuminated by the skylight. On the walls of the room were banners to the goddess Kynareth, with two more hung above the shrine in the northern corner. Otherwise, there was nothing too remarkable save for a couple of comfy beds made of solid stone. You know, the perfect thing for the wounded and sick to lay on while they recovered from debilitating injuries. Luna was reluctantly sat down on one of these, the blanket doing little to cushion her.

“Dragonborn. Are you sure we can trust this woman? She does not seem… professional.” Luna said as Danica dragged an old chest out from under a secret compartment in the floor.

“Uh, don’t worry... I’m sure she’s fine... yeah.” Fenora reassured Luna for the sake of her mind alone. She then quickly turned to Stross and said in a whisper “If anything goes wrong grab the princess and run.” To which Stross gave a quick nod before Danica came back to them.

“Alrighty then, what seems to be the problem?” Danica asked as she took out a stethoscope and began listening to Luna’s forehead with it.

“I feel terrible.” Luna groaned.

“Symptoms?”

“Well… I’m sweating all the time, and I feel weak, I have a splitting headache, and there’s this tingling in my stomach that won’t go away.” Luna listed off what she could.

“Right then, none of that matters, ‘cause I already know the solution!” Danica proclaimed and rummaged through her trunk, standing up as she fished out a glass jar. “Leeches!”

“What!” screamed our three heroes when they saw that Danica was not joking in the slightest and within the glass jar were several of the slimy blood-suckers squirming around.

“Beg your pardon, but doesn’t that seem a bit… dated?” Luna asked, knowing such methods were being done away with in Equestria even before her thousand year exile.

“Yeah! They’ve been used as a cure-all remedy all across Tamriel since the first age, so you know they must’ve been doing something right to have stuck around this long. Now if you’ll just hold out your arms, legs, neck and any other exposed flesh, these little guys will do the rest.”

Danica opened her eyes to see all that remained of her patient and her friends was a dispersing trail of dust.

“Oh well.” She shrugged “At least I got their fifteen septim co-pay.”

On the other side of Whiterun, Fenora and Stross gently placed Luna atop a small stack of crates, apologizing profusely to her through gasps for breath.

“I have to say that was not one of our finer moments.” Stross said. “Who knew priests were so scary, aren’t they supposed to be trained in that sort of medical stuff?”

“You’re telling me.” Fenora agreed with him “Are you alright Princess?”

Luna responded with a Royal-Canterlot-sneeze that shook the thatching from every rooftop in the city. “Not really.” she said glumly as they picked themselves off the ground.

“Well, time for plan B.” Fenora sighed.

“Dragonborn. We do not approve of this ‘plan B’.” Luna said, anxiously backing away from the pot of bubbling liquid in front of her.

“It’s alright, Arcadia best potion-maker in Whiterun. She’ll be able to help.” Fenora told her, leaving out the part where she’s the only potion-maker in Whiterun. Fenora didn’t especially like Arcadia after the way she reacted to Stross upon their first meeting; the fact that Stross himself decided to stay outside showed that he felt the same. But if the alchemist really did ‘have a remedy for any ailment’ then it was worth a shot to ask her for help.

“You bet I can cure her, or your money back.” Arcadia joked, which did nothing to help the mood. “Alright… a few more ground bear claws, some egg yolks… and one more dash of void salts. Alright, here you go.” She finished stirring the ingredients in and handed the slush to Luna.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked as she let the viscous mixture swirl in its bowl a bit.

“Well… not really to be honest, but it’s not like it’ll make you worse right?” Fenora reasoned.

Luna looked back at Arcadia, who urged her with a gesture and a winning smile. The night princess shrugged and gulped the potion down in two swift gulps, surprised at its rather pleasant taste.

Fanora and Arcadia looked to her expectedly. “So? How do you feel?”

Luna took a deep breath and raised a hand as though beginning a speech. And then projectile vomited the contents of her stomach onto the nearest wall, curling back up into a shivering ball once it was all out.

Fenora knelt down beside Luna and gently rubbed her back. “Okay, maybe I’m not so good at helping sick people.” She admitted the obvious.

Luna gave her a glare that said “Oh really? You think?”

Fenora sighed again. “If only we knew what was wrong, maybe we could actually help. Who else could we go to?”

Then Mr. Someone-else-to-go-to angrily kicked in the door and glared at Arcadia through his spectacles. “Arcadia, I hope you know that my personal presence in your shop is enough to show that I’ve truly had enough of your childish games.” Farengar said with barely restrained anger “I can respect one’s study of the alchemical practice. But this is my fourth meal in a row that you’ve slipped one of your experimental potions into, and I must demand that you cease and desist!”

“Oh Farengar, where’s your sense of humor?” Arcadia laughed.

“It went into the trash this morning, along with most of my personal collection of tomes after the effects of your fire-breathing potion finally wore off.” Farengar told her “I’m not much for metaphors, but I’ve had it up to here with you.”

“You realize she’s doing it because she likes you, right?” Stross chimed in from the open doorway “Arcadia does not care about your lack of interest in her what-so-ever. The more you ignore her the more she wants you. And she will continue to use various methods of provocation in order to get your attention until you agree to sate her desires through a romantic evening and subsequent vigorous banging!”

With that, the changeling whooshed away as quickly as he appeared, leaving a rather uncomfortable and awkward silence in his wake, with only the odd cough to break it.

“Well… umm.” Farengar quickly looked for something else to draw everyone’s attention with. “Oh! What do we have here? You certainly look unwell.” He said, choosing Luna as his means of escape “Looks to be a magical affliction. Perhaps you need my assistance somewhere that’s not here? Yes? Okay then, off we go. Grab her and follow me.” he ordered Fenora and walked out of the shop as though it were going to explode any second.

“This is why I don’t leave my room.” he muttered as the four of them made their way up to Dragonsreach.

Luna sat atop the large wooden table in Farengar’s personal lab/study room. The Court Wizard was currently in his element, observing her from all sides and gleefully taking measurements and scribbling down notes.

“Well, after that unpleasant bit of social interaction, I’m pleased to be dealing with something that is clearly in my field of study.” Farengar said happily as he examined Princess Luna with a number of different tools and plucking a few feathers for later use, to which she was none too happy about.

“So do you think you can figure out what’s wrong?” Fenora asked as she sat in a chair in the corner.

Farengar laughed a bit. “I’m honestly surprised you did not bring her to me in the first place. With my superior intellect, I’ll surely discover a solution to this conundrum in a much more timely manner than any of those other bumbling amateurs.” He boasted “And besides, the chance to study yet another being from a different world will be quite a marvelous experience. Perhaps this one will even be worth my time.”

“Hey!” Stross cut in “I am offended, sir.”

“Whatever. Me no speaka da egghead. Translation please.” Fenora requested.

There was a whirl of flame as Stross took Farengar’s form. “I’m a super smarty-pants. I’ll figure this out way faster than Arcadia or that crazy priest. Plus I’ll get to prod Luna with my fancy toys and scribble down a bunch of notes.” Stross said in a derpy impression of the Court Wizard, earning some stifled laughter from Fenora. “Boy I sure love books; they don’t talk back to me or question my theories. I wish I had some clones so that I can share my ramblings about dragons- Kack! Ow!”

Stoss was interrupted and torn from his disguise when a book impacted his face.

“You know, if you’re going to take my form for a comedy routine, you should learn how to properly dodge incoming projectiles.” Farengar lisped with a smirk and threw another heavy object at the downed changeling “Now hand me that bowl of bone meal.”

Stross complied while rubbing his aching head.

“Pardon me, Court Wizard.” Luna said weakly “Does’t thou expect us to eat that?”

“What, no. Of course not.” Farengar said as he mixed a few other reagents into the powdered bone “Unless of course, you wish to. In which case, your species has very strange customs and/or tastes. Now then...”

Farengar took a fistful of the mixture in his hand and walked to an open surface on the floor. He carefully let the dust fall out of his hand, drawing a circle with it on the floor.

“Alright you highness, if you would be so kind as to step into the circle.”

With a bit of difficulty, Luna got up and stood within the powder circle. Farengar picked up a flask from the table and uncorked it. He then knelt down, and with an eyedropper, he let a single drop of liquid onto the powder.

The powder lit up brightly, and in an instant it ignited in a bright blue flame, a pillar of light encompassing the area within. In a few moments it died down, leaving a lingering blue aura on the Princess, which she curiously looked over.

“I get it now.” Stross said before transforming into Farengar again “That magic effect from the circle allows us to view the normally invisible magical energies within her. Judging by how weak the glow is, there’s barely any power left in her.  Since she is a magical being, it would only make sense that she is weaker in the absence of such power, to the point of sickness even.”

Fenrengar gave Stross a pat on the back. “Now that’s how you do a proper impression of an esteemed Court Wizard.”

“But I do not understand.” Luna said to them as she looked at the fading blue light around her “Why am I so weak all of a sudden?”

“I believe it is time to put my next theory in motion.” Farengar handed her a blue vial of liquid “Drink this please.”

Luna paused and stared at him a moment.

“Well go on.” Farengar said impatiently.

Reluctantly, Luna took a cautious sip. She immediately felt a boost of energy and proceeded to down the rest of it, the aura around her glowing visibly brighter as she did.

“It is just as I theorized.” Farengar told them “That was a magika potion I gave you just now, it seems your body were nearly depleted.”

“Magika? But the changeling gave us many of those in an attempt to revive us, just this morning.” Luna told them “We could not possibly be depleted after such a short… time… gahh, my head.”

The aura of light began quickly fading, the magic within her being pulled inward and vanishing into nothingness. As it did, it became apparent that Luna’s state of health was directly related to how much magika she had left. First her hair stopped flowing, going from an ethereal body of stars to regular strands which cascaded limply down her form, their length ending just above her ankles. Then her skin became pale and she started to sweat once again as the glow around her faded almost entirely.

“Well this is quite an unusual phenomenon.” Farengar observed and continued to jot down notes “It seems as though something is eating away any magika that comes into her system.”

“It’s not me! I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.” Stross quickly defended himself while he fed Luna another potion, the effects fading as quickly as the first. “I promise!”

“We believe you.” Fenora got up from her seat in order to help her remain standing. “But then how do we help her? She can’t fight dragons with us if she’s too weak to stand.”

“I vote we find and remove whatever parasite is draining our magic.” Luna managed to say before the effects of the second potion wore off and she once again flopped onto her companions.

“Farengar? Any ideas?” they looked to him.

Ferengar lit up with a grin and grabbed a few black scrolls.

“Well, my knowledge is much more limited then I would like.” He began “But I believe that with some diligent testing over the course of a few weeks-“

“No.” Fenora cut him off “That’s just too long to wait.”

“But Dragonborn, think about this.” Farengar pleaded “Before us is a being from another world; one that isn’t annoying to the point of breaking my sanity.” He added as Stross tried to interject “While I figure out why her magic is draining at such an unusual rate, I can also write enough notes to fill entire books on what her species is like. Think of it, it will be the biggest discovery since the dragons returning! I could-”

“Farengar.” Fenora interrupted him again “I’m happy for you. I’m gonna let you finish… your research. But Luna is a living person who is sick and needs our help. A few weeks is just too long to wait for results. And for all we know, Alduin will have burned Tamriel to the ground by then.”

“I- But this-“ Farengar tried to form a sentence, urging them to reconsider.

“Court Wizard.” Luna said, now at his side with her hand on his shoulder “We would be happy to assist you with your studies, and we shall personally tell you all about Equestria when we have recovered. But first we require your help.” she told him weakly, her skin saturated with a cold sweat and her eyes bloodshot again.

Farengar was unusually silent as he looked back at Luna through his glasses. “Okay” he said with a sigh and went over to a mostly vacant bookshelf. He grabbed a couple of the books that were still intact and returned to the three. He put the books on the table and opened up one, which happened to be full of maps.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with treating your illness, your majesty. And since a quicker recovery would be preferable to you, there’s only one other place I could think to recommend to you.” He pointed to a spot on the north-eastern-most part of Skryim “The Mages’ College of Winterhold.”

Farengar paused and let the room go silent for dramatic effect.

“It is a collection of the best and most experienced magical minds in all of Skyrim… although that’s not saying much.” he continued “I hear that they often deal with odd occurrences of the magical nature. Mind you, most of those odd occurrences are caused by them, but you should find someone there to help solve this riddle once and for all.”

“Then that’s where we’re headed. Thank you Farengar.” Fenroa said as she and the others headed for the exit.

“I wish you luck!” he called to them as they left “And Princess Luna, don’t forget I’ll be waiting to hear all about your world… and take a few blood samples!”

A very boring cart ride

The early noon sun shone down on the fields of Whiterun as a wooden cart was pulled bumpily along the dirt roads outside the city. The driver sat at the head, softly humming a tune as the giant steed lazily trotted along. In the back, our three heroes sat in silence, enjoying the warm sun, the brisk Skyrim air, and the gorgeous landscape around them.

“Are we there yet?” Luna asked impatiently.

“No. And please stop asking, just enjoy the ride.” Fenora told her after a long, drawn out sigh.

Luna pouted and sipped at one of the magika potions they’d brought along; hopefully they would last until they found a cure.

“I know!” Stross piped up “We can play I-spy until we get there.”

“No.” they both him flatly.

“I can play tour guide and narrate our journey!”

“No.”

“We can sing two-thousand bottles of-“

“Oh gods no!” Fen and Luna yelled, and even the driver had to agree “Stross, please. Just… sit there and be quiet until we get to Winterhold.” Fenora urged him.

Stross slumped over and deflated with a sigh. “Oh… okay.” he then stared glumly at the floor of the wagon.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Come here you.” Fenora scooted closer to Stross and put an arm over him.

The changeling smiled and leaned into her, closing his eyes in the relative bliss of the moment.

Luna chuckled a bit at the two of them. “You two seem so close considering the short time you’ve known each other.” She said, her kind expression wavering ever so slightly with her thoughts “I assure you I mean nothing by this; I am happy you are so close. But most relationships I have witnessed take weeks or even months to form, yet the two of you seem willing to trust each other with your lives. The fact that you know what he and his kind are known for only makes it stranger to me.”

“Really?” Fenora asked “I mean Stross told me a few times that there are some pretty horrible changlings out there, but Stross…” she looked down into his eyes as he smiled up at her, then back to Luna “If changelings are monsters, then he’s one heck of an exception to the rule. I mean come on, after what we’ve been through so far, how could I not love this cuddlebug?”

“Dawww.” Stross dawwed and pulled her into a hug, which she quickly returned.

“Heh, okay Stross, you can let go now.” Fenora said after the hug lasted long enough to become awkward.

Stross decided not to let go.

Stross then resisted all attempts at shoving, prying, and otherwise removing him and kept his silly smile as she tried.

Fenora groaned, but then an idea came to her. A mischievous grin crossed her face and she put her plan into motion. She pulled the gloves off her hands and reached up to Stross’ neck.

Stross’ eyes shot open at the gentle scratching sensation on his scales, then his eyelids drooped down and his muscles became limp noodles as the scratching continued in small patterns on his neck, shoulders and under his chin. He allowed himself to relinquish the constricting grip on his elf in favor of letting his head fall into her lap.

Luna stared wide-eyed at the scene playing out before her. “I must tell our guards about this when I return.” She then giggled as Stross started purring while Fenora continued scratching his chitin.

“She’s found mah graetest waekness.” Stross gurgled out “Halp me.” he said, not really wanting halp- I mean, help.

“So Princess, I’ve actually been wondering something for a while.” Fenora started up a conversation “You found Stross and even came here by doing some weird stuff in his dreams, not that I’ll even try to understand that stuff. But how did you know he was missing from your world in the first place? The way I understood it was that you and your sister only hold dominion over your own kind.”

Luna cringed a bit at the word. “Dominion… isn’t really accurate. Sister and I are just sort of there helping them along and protecting them from harm. The only reason we became goddesses to them is because they choose to see us as such, and we certainly don’t act like tyrants over them. At least… not since I…” Luna shook her head and quickly changed topic. “Moving on to your question: The reason I knew the changeling was gone is because I saw it happen myself. It was completely on coincidence actually.”

*Flashback again* *Time travel effect* *Luna doing Princess stuff up in this b-*

It was late afternoon in Ponyville, and for the past few hours, a certain piece of shrubbery had been following the town librarian around as she ran her perfectly organized errands. The large leafy bush ducked into an alleyway and rustled a bit, and then in a shocking turn of events, Princess Luna popped her head out of the foliage and continued to spy on the purple unicorn as she had for the better part of the day.

“Come on Luna, get a grip.” She muttered to herself as she straightened her mane and crown “It’s just a casual meeting; you just need to walk up to her and say ‘hello’. Tis not a difficult task.”

Luna kept her eyes trained on Twilight as she continued on her way. Luna liked the way Twilight walked, the way her hips and tail swayed as she did, and how she seemed to glow when the light touched her coat.

As she walked, Twilight pulled a book from her saddlebags and started reading. It always amazed Luna how anypony could focus on so many tasks with such accuracy and effectiveness, and yet there was Twilight Sparkle, reading a book, checking off her list, hovering various objects around her in a magic field and still managing to avoid any obstacle in her path.

Luna let out a sigh of longing as she watched Twilight walk by. “Why do you have to be so perfect?” she asked to no one in particular.

“Pardon me your highness.” came a voice behind her.

“Oh great, I forgot about them. They just had to insist on coming along.” Luna thought as she turned to the two Night Guards behind her, her personal squad. “Yes, what is it. As you can see, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Yes, about that.” the batpony said as he stepped out of his own bush costume “It is not my place to question your decisions, but I must ask. Why are we for lack of a better word… ahem… ‘stalking’ Twilight Sparkle?”

“It’s called ‘recon’ Sergeant.” Luna explained/made up an excuse for stalking Twilight “We must be prepared for anything if our meeting tonight is to go well.”

“But that won’t be for hours Princess. What could possibly happen in that time?”

By the laws of shit you’re not supposed to say in order to prevent things from happening, something happened.

There was a loud ruckus in the distance, and from across the mostly vacant street, Luna spotted a black figure fast approaching in the distance. It skidded to a stop and looked around frantically before taking off in another direction, and in the time it wasted, a platoon of guards rounded the corner to give chase.

“Wait a minute, is that-“ Luna squinted to get a better view “It is! By my sister!”

Luna kicked off her plant costume and dashed out of the alley, her two guards close behind. She came just in time to see the bug creature galloping forward at full speed, its horn alight with red flame, and in its trajectory was Twilight Sparkle, not even aware of its presence with the book taking up her field of vision.

Luna’s eyes widened as she realized what was happening. In a split second, something along the lines of, “Chrysalis must be out for revenge, and Twilight is her first target. I must stop her minion! Hold on my precious adorkable bookworm!” went through her head and she ran out to intercept the two.

However, she wasn’t quite fast enough, as the changeling had already reached Twilight, its horn ablaze with a spell of death and destruction. But then something happened that Luna didn’t expect; the changeling simply vanished in a bright flash of light. Twilight shrugged off the minor impact and picked up her book, hoping to continue on her way.

Unfortunately for her, Luna had already lunged at her and was in mid “NOOOOOOooooo” when the threat disappeared, leaving her to get royally tackled into some nearby bushes just as the guards arrived.

“Uuuuuhhhhmmm.” the frontmost guard said awkwardly at the sight of the two spooning in the shrubbery.

“Uh, this isn’t what it looks like?” Luna said with a sheepish grin.

“Right. Please pardon the- ahem… disturbance. Far be it from me or my guards to interrupt a royal mating session, but did either of you two see a changeling run past just now?”

Luna’s eyes shot open. “Royal wha- No no no! That’s not-“

“It blew up.” Luna’s Night Guard told them as they caught up “I’ll explain everything somewhere else if you wish.”

“Gladly. Alright boys, let’s move out. Give these two some private time” the Day Guard ordered the rest of his team, who despite their training, voiced their complaints and tried to get in a few more glances before getting corralled away.

With the rumbling sound of hooves hitting cobblestone quickly fading into the distance, Luna quickly got to her hooves and tried to rectify the situation.

“Icanexplain!TherewasaChangleinganditwasgoingtokillyou!ButthenitvanishedandIhityouinstead!Iwasn’ttryingtorapeyouI’dneverdosomethinglikethattoyouunlessyouwantedmeto!Iunderstandifyoudon’trollthatwaybutyou’respecialtomeandI’llalwaysloveyou!AndI’msosorryTwilightAreyoualright?!” Luna belted out.

Twilight just stared at her before slowly climbing out of the bushes and dusting herself off, using her magic to reform the plant as she did. “Yeah… Sorry Princess Luna, I didn’t catch any of that.” Twilight admitted “But as long as you’re here early, that means that we’ll be ahead of schedule for stargazing tonight!” she said gleefully “Would you like to join me while I finish my errands?”

Luna blinked at the response she received. “Yes Twilight.” She said, finally getting her breathing under control “That sounds very nice.”

*End flashback*

“Uhh, Luna?” Fenora tried to get the Princess’s attention “You’ve been pretty quiet over there.”

“Hmm, oh yes.” Luna snapped out of her memories “What were we talking about again?”

“How you knew Stross was missing.”

“We saw him running through the town known as Ponyville-“

Fenora snickered at the name.

“Pursued by the entirety of their guard force.” Luna continued, to which Fenora immediately became silent “He charged at Twilight Sparkle, the town librarian, personal student to my sister and a close friend of ours. The way his horn was alight, we assumed he was attempting to kill her. When he vanished instead, I personally investigated any motives or leads, and through dream tracking, I have found him here.”

Luna looked to Stross with sympathy. “We now know you as a kind person worthy of our trust, but we are still curious as to why you were in Ponyville if not to assassinate Twilight Sparkle.” Her gaze grew heavier and she leaned in “What were you doing that day?”

Fenora shifted in her seat to listen as well, clearly interested in hearing the tale.

Stross looked at them for a moment before letting out a remorseful sigh. He slumped back in his seat, his eyes half lidded and his ear drooped as he recalled the events of that day, events that had blurred past him as they were happening and were shoved aside with what had followed them. “I was running for my life.”

*What’s this? Another flashback?!**Oh and Stross is first person in this one!**Oh my glob you guys!*

So I had been wandering pretty aimlessly for a few days. It had been about a week and a half since my last colossal failure when I tried to get a job as a doctor. Who knew medicine could be so difficult? I didn’t know how to even pronounce half of those chemicals, never mind what they were used for. Luckily I wasn’t in charge of prescriptions, but surgery was even harder! Stupid bone saws, and drills, and all that blood… tendons and sinew…

What was I talking about? Oh right.

Anyway I was practically starving at that point, but I could still muster up enough energy for a disguise. So when I found that little town I did what changelings normally do.

Okay, what I normally do.

I chose a form at random, this time a grey earth pony with a messy white mane, made up a name for myself, and headed into town in search of somepony to feed off of.

You wouldn’t know this if you weren’t from Equestria, but ponies are super friendly… like all the time. The second I arrived, people started waving and saying “Hello” and “Nice day today”. And this energetic pink one sprang out of a wall and sang me a “Welcome to Ponyville” song, she gave me a cake too.

I would have fed off of her in little bits, seeing how she had energy to spare, but after the first taste I contracted the changeling equivalent of diabetes.

After she gave me some insulin (Don’t ask me why she kept a stash under a flower pot) I decided to walk with her on her way back to work. Her name was Pinkie Pie, and apparently she worked as an assistant at the bakery in addition to being the town’s party planner. She was really nice, and knew everyone that lived in town; she even introduced me to a few of them as we walked.

We arrived at the bakery, Sugarcube Corner, and I kid you not, the building was made of gingerbread. I don’t know how they did it, but they literally made a bakery out of baked goods! I mean can you even…

*Ahem*

Anyway, I spotted this mare sitting at one of the tables, and she looked absolutely miserable. I decided to ask Pinkie about it and she told me “Oh that's Sunny Delight, but we all call her Sunny D. She’s been really super sad because her coltfriend who lives all the way over in Manehatten was a big jerkface and cheated on her for this other mare he met.”

“Ouch. That’s just terrible.”

“I know, right? I’ve tried everything to help her get over this, her friends too. But she’s just broken up into little bitty pieces over him.” Pinkie pouted “She’s been like this for weeks.”

As bad as it was, this was also a perfect opportunity for a changeling like me. All I have to do is cheer her up, we become friends, I help heal her broken heart, she falls for me, and I have all the love I could ever need. Then she’s happy, and I don’t have to starve. Everyone wins!

At least ideally that’s what would happen. But just because something is simple, doesn’t mean it’s easy.

“Do you think maybe I could give it a shot?” I asked Pinkie.

Her face immediately lit up and she grinned ear to ear. “Hey yeah! Nothing cheers somepony up like making a new friend! Come on!”

She dragged me over in the blink of an eye and introduced us while excitedly jumping up and down. “Hey Sunny, this is Stark Shade! He’s new in town! Do you two wanna be friends? Huh huh huh? It’ll make you feeeel better.”

“Pinkie… I don’t think-“ Sunny tried to say before she way cut off by Pinkie’s much quicker speech.

“Ooh, you know what goes great with new friends? New friend milkshakes! I’ll go get you some!” she then zipped off to the kitchen despite Sunny’s protests.

I sat down and finally stopped my head from spinning. “So, is she always that… peppy?”

Sunny let out a displeased groan. “Yes, yes she is. I’m sorry about that mister... Stark was it? Pinkie is a very… active pony.”

I decided to take a slow subtle approach. Withering away from hunger is no excuse to be rude after all. “Pardon me for saying, but you look a little down. Is everything okay?”

“Pinkie told you about my ex-coltfirend didn’t she?”

Yikes. Was I that obvious?

“Yeah, she did. And I’m sorry, I know how hard it is.”

Trust me, I do.

“Then at least you get what I’m going through. Pinkie has been trying everything to help me out ever since I made the mistake of telling her.” Sunny let her chin rest on the tabletop “She means well, but I just want to be left alone for a while.”

Well that won’t help either of us. You’ll only end up hurting more, and I’ll have missed my chance. I have to help you somehow.

“What even happened?” I asked cautiously “If you don’t mind me asking that is.”

She frowned, though not at me. “It was all Hail Slick’s fault! That good-for-nothing Pegasus tells me I’ll be the only one he’ll ever love, and that he has to move to Manehatten in order to make enough money. ‘It’s so I can treat you right’ ‘have a good life together’.” She huffed “It was only when I came for a surprise visit that I found out that ‘treating me right’ meant going behind my back with this prissy little model that happens to live next door to him! Where in Tartarus does he get away with that!?” Sunny screamed.

This drew a few stares from the other customers, who had been listening to the whole conversation, despite trying to appear like they weren’t.

“I’m sorry.” Sunny told me, bringing her voice back down "I thought the two of us had something special. I just can’t believe he’d do something like that; lying right to my face about it.”

No, that’s not awkward for me at all.

“It’s alright. I’ve been through my share of bad break-ups. I know it’s not easy to find out something like that.”

Although I’ve never been I the receiving end of deception, ironically.

“So how do you deal with it?” Sunny asked “The pain I mean. It just... it hurts so much to think he's not there anymore.”

“Well, I try to think of it like treating any other kind of wound.” I told her, to which she gave me a confused look “What I mean is, if something hurts really bad you’d use some kind of painkillers first, right? And for break-ups, your painkiller of choice is anything that gets your mind off it; food, friends, buying something you’ve always wanted, whatever makes you feel good.”

Sunny nodded and continued to listen, her eyes focused on me.

“But the thing about any painkiller, it doesn’t actually heal you, and if you keep using it, you’ll still be hurt on the inside. So sooner or later you have to confront the source of the problem."

"And I don’t mean find the guy and punch him out! Although he would totally deserve it... Nah, he’s not worth the effort.” I quickly added.

Sunny giggled at that, and I could feel her start to open up to me.

“But anyway, I find that the best way to work out any pain is to just talk about how you feel. Talk about what he actually meant to you, or what you saw in him, and then put those things into perspective.”

“Perspective?” Sunny asked.

“Yeah, like… name something nice he did for you.”

Sunny Delight looked at the ceiling for a while in thought. “Well, there was this one time he took me out to dinner, and before he left, he gave me this keychain in the shape of a teddybear with a heart on it.” She smiled and started tearing up at the memory “I thought it was so sweet of him and I just- I just-“

I quickly put a hoof over hers, snapping her out of her memories of the good times before I accidently evoked more sadness from her.

“And now, try to remember a time when he wasn’t so nice. Some time when he let you down.”

The way her expression changed and her eyes became cold told me she could think of plenty.

“I can’t count how many times he said he’d meet me and never showed up, made plans and then dropped them over nothing.” She said with a small frown “Or all the times hanging out with his friends at the bar was more important than spending time with me. Or how-“

“Okay, you don’t’ need to tell me all of them at once.” I stopped her before she raised her voice too much “But you see what I mean, right? Whenever you think back on how happy you were together, try to put it in perspective. See how much he actually cared about you compared to when he didn’t and you’ll realize it’s not a bad thing he’s gone, and how awesome you are for having put up with it all.”

Sunny smiled at that. “Thank you.” she whispered.

“And once you realize you’re going to be just fine without him, you’ll also realize that there are way more people out there to meet.” I raise my hooves in the air for emphasis “I can’t stress enough how important that is. Just because one guy didn’t work out, doesn’t mean you should give up on all the others, and it certainly doesn’t mean that you should give up hope for yourself. I just met you and I can tell you’re a really great person. And I know that if you want to, you’ll find someone right.”

“You know, I think I will.” She said, propping her head up on her hoof and gazing at me through half-lidded eyes.

It was at that point that I felt that warm/fuzzy feeling coming off her, tempting me with the nourishment it would give me.

“Did that actually work? Holy crud I’m good!” I thought to myself as Pinkie Pie came back to us with a tray of milkshakes balanced on her head.

She gasped and her eyes started sparkling when she saw us smiling. “Sunny? Are you feeling any better?” she asked eagerly.

“You know what Pinkie, I really am.” Sunny told her, her eyes not leaving me for a second.

If it were possible, I think Pinkie smiled even more. “Ohmygosh Ohmygosh! I knew it would work, new friend making prevails over being down in the dumps once again!” she declared victoriously “Oh and that reminds me, your milkshakes! Enjoy.”

With that she set the drinks on the table and zipped back into the kitchen.

I gave her a quick word of thanks before she was out of earshot and examined the drink before me. It was a vanilla milkshake with chocolate syrup at the bottom and drizzled on top along with sprinkles. But what stuck out most about the drinks were the little paper flags in the ice cream with “New Best Friends” in big purple letters. I happily started sipping away at it, but Sunny was more focused on me than her own shake.

“So Stark,” she got my full attention “my friends were planning to take me out to dinner tonight, another ‘painkiller’ tactic. Would you like to join us?”

All according to plan, and ahead of schedule for a change.

“I’d love to.” I told her with a smile “Just let me know where and when.”

And then the door got kicked in.

“Sunny, I know you’re here!” a deep blue Pegasus stormed in, quickly drawing everyone’s attention. He looked around until he spotted Sunny Delight, marched right up to her and said “Sunny, I’ve changed my mind. I want you back.”

At least he doesn’t mince words.

Sunny scowled at him. “Are you serious!? There is no way I’d ever go back to your two-timing flank!”

“Come on babe, I’ve heard what everypony’s sayin’. You’re a wreck without me, you need me. Now I came all the way here, saying I’ll take you back and you’re saying ‘no’. What gives?” Hail Slick told her like he was Celestia’s gift to mares.

“What gives-“ she punched his chest for emphasis “-is that we are done! I am done with the grief you’ve given me all this time, and I’m done with you! Now get out of my town.”

Hail Slick frowned back at her and grabbed her hoof, trying to drag her to the door. “Oh I’ll leave all right, but you’re comin’ with me.”

Okay, time to intervene.

“Woah, buddy. She says she’s done with you.” I got up and stopped him from leaving, grabbing the arm he was holding Sunny with “Respect her decision, let her go, and walk away.”

“And who in Tartarus are you supposed to be?” he released Sunny to focus solely on me. I recoiled a bit as he got right in my face with a snarl. “Well, punk?”

“His name is Stark Shade.” Sunny told him “My new coltfriend.”

Wow, already? I really am getting good at this.

“In the half hour we’ve known each other, he’s been nicer to me than you ever have!”

“Is that so?” Hail Slick muttered slowly.

His punch came so quickly I barely managed to move out of the way in time. I felt the hairs on his hoof brush past my cheek while I dodged.

“Hey don’t-“

I didn’t get another word in before his second swing hit me, and while I was stunned by it, he pinned me by my throat to the nearest wall post. Gasps of shock and cries of dismay flooded my ears.

In the corner of my eyes I could see Sunny trying in vain to pull Hail Slick off me.

Seconds turned into hours as my vision was clouded with darkness. The screams became more muffled and distant, and all that I could see was Hail Slick’s hate filled glare and he choked the life out of me.

As a do or die action, I charged up what energy I was saving and hit him in the face with a stun spell, full force.

His body went rigid and collapsed on the ground. I followed suit, hacking and gasping for air, but I was the one Sunny rushed to. At least… until my disguise dropped.

I remember her just frozen there, her hooves an inch away from scooping me up in a warm embrace, shock and fear plastered across her features as my illusionary form burned away in a pulse of red embers.

For a second she stared into the eyes of my changeling form, and I stared at the reflection in hers. I could sense the emotions coursing through her, just as I had for all the others. Surprise, confusion, fear, betrayal, sadness, anger, all these feelings and more raced through her in the fraction of a second.

“Sunny…” I spoke in my natural, raspy voice and reached out to her.

She gasped and staggered back, landing on her rump and scooting away, her eyes still locked on me and full of fright.

I knew this was to be expected, and also that I had no chance with her now, so I simply continued before I’d have to run. “I meant everything I said, and I still think you’re a wonderful person. Please don’t stop trusting people because of me.”

Suddenly a lone guard charged in through the door, likely responding to the commotion happening not two minutes ago. “Changeling!” he yelled when he spotted me, near a motionless body and a trembling mare nonetheless “Call for reinforcements, we’ve got civilian casualties!”

I let out a tired sigh, got to my hooves and turned to Sunny Delight one last time. “I really would have liked to go to dinner with you and your friends. I’m sure we’d like each other.” I told her, not even caring how she might interpret it.

And with that I jumped out one of the several open windows in Sugercube Corner and began the mad dash across Ponyville, every guard in town hot on my tail.

*Flashback over**The feels man, the feels.*

“And you know the rest. I charged up a teleport spell to try and get out of there alive, bumped into Twilight Snorkel, and ended up here.” Stross concluded his story.

Luna looked down at the floor of the cart for a moment before facing him again. “I… I am truly sorry for any misunderstandings that may have occurred in Equestria. If you wish, I could pardon any offences you might have incurred, as well as give you a citizenship in Equestria.” she offered “T’would take some getting used to for everypony, but you would never have to worry about-“

“No.” Stross cut her off “No, thank you Princess, it’s very kind of you to offer. But ponies will never stop fearing changelings, and for good reason. I wouldn’t want to put them in danger because they think all changelings are like me. And besides,” Stross looked up at Fenora, who had hugged him close over the course of his story “I doubt I’ll be going back anyway.”

Luna simply smiled at his gesture.

“Hey Stross,” Fenora said softly to him “You said you felt Sunny’s feelings when she found out what you were, like all the others.”

Stross nodded.

“How many others were there?”

Stross was silent. I distant look on his face as he closed his eyes and leaned into her. Then tears spilled out from under his lids and flowed down his cheeks. “It never gets any easier.” He mouthed.

Fenora held him even tighter and ran her fingers across his fin-like hair. “I’ll never leave you.” she told him “Just don’t ever leave me. Okay?” she asked.

And Stross gently nuzzled her.

The weather out here is frightful...

Fenora kept Stross in her embrace as the cart ride continued. After several minutes had passed, they noticed the landscape slowly turning from the hard soil and rushing rivers to a frozen tundra of ice and snow, even the air turned from its usual brisk cold to a frigid gale that nipped at everyone’s skin.

“End o’ the road folks.” The cart driver called back when it lurched to a sudden stop “Th’ wheels can’t get through this kind of snow.”

“I guess we’re walking from here.” Fenora stated and dismounted with her companions.

“Winterhold should be no less than a half hours hike that-a-way.” The driver pointed towards some snowy peaks in the distance “I’d hurry if I were you, the cold will get to ya faster than ya think. Good luck!”

“Must we really walk through this storm?” Luna asked, gazing worriedly at the incoming flurry of white flakes.

Fenora let out a sigh, but nodded in the affirmative. “Here, I brought along some coats for all of us.” She opened her pack and pulled out three fur-lined cloaks. One of which she wrapped around her shoulders, another was quickly accepted by Stross.

“Oh, um… that is alright. We shall manage without.” Luna said, nervously backing away as the last one was offered to her.

“You know you don’t need to prove anything to us, right? It’s going to be at least thirty below out there, just put it on.” Fenora said firmly, not wanting to deal with Luna being a show off.

“No no, that’s not it! It’s just…” Luna trailed off, finding the best way to phrase her quandary.

Fortunately, Stross did it for her, though in a much less tactful way. “Equestrians don’t like wearing clothes made from their dead critter friends.” He blurted out.

Fenora’s eyes widened. “Oh… right. Well then.”

“Ahem, yes.” Luna cleared her throat “But no matter, tis only a short walk, and a bit of inclimate weather shan’t deter this Princess of the night. Onward my friends!”

“B-by the stars! It’s f-f-f-FREEZING out here!” Luna said through shivers after only a few minutes of walking through the blizzard.

Our three heroes trudged through the snow that swallowed them up to their knees as it crunched down under their feet. The wind had only gotten colder and wetter, bringing with it a bone-chilling cold that easily sunk into your skin.

“You want that coat now?” Fenora offered.

“Nay! We s-shan’t wear the s-seamstressed sk-sk-skin of a once living b-being!” Luna yelled in all her stubbornness “W-we would be grateful if th-thou stopped offering!”

“You’re going to freeze if you don’t!” Fenora argued some common sense “Don’t you have a spell or something to warm you up?”

Luna frowned back at her. “I’ve b-been trying! F-for some reason, I c-can b-barely use even the m-most basic spells. Whatever is draining my magic must be prohibiting it!”

“Then what are we going to do?!” Fenora asked, getting very annoyed with her solutions being shot down “Either you get over the fact that is was made from dead animals and wear the dang coat, or you’re going… to… why’s it not snowing in here?” she asked when she noticed the lack of snowflakes flying into her face with their stinging cold.

Luna looked around as well. For some reason there was a strange temperate area right where they stood, the blizzard raged just outside, yet any snow or wind that entered the dome of heat was instantly melted and turned pleasantly warm. They looked to their sides and found the reason smiling up at them. Stross had cast a blazing flame from his hands, condensing it into a sphere that radiated its magical warmth around them all like a shield, bathing them in a crimson light as it sheltered them from the cold.

“Ready to keep going?” he asked.

“Stross… you’re awesome.” Fenora pulled him into a hug, Luna following suit.

And with that they continued on, the flames glowing slightly stronger as they walked.

So Winterhold... it was a very lively place.

And by that, I mean it was lively for a place built in the freezing cold of a perpetual winter, right next to a three hundred foot cliff overlooking a sea of glaciers. It was a place where you’d get frozen solid by stepping outside your front door and then eaten by a sabre-cat like some human meat-sickle, and a place that no one ever went to because what little remained of the city after it collapsed into the ocean was, by popular belief, cursed to a slow and painful demise that would be shared by all those foolish enough to inhabit it.

And yet, life in Winterhold persisted. This was obvious as a man kicked open the door to his sister’s shop and strode out into the freezing cold to go to the bar and drink his troubles and money away.

A guard gave a casual nod in his direction as he passed, continuing his patrol while wearing only a sleeveless armor set and shrugging off the sub-zero temperatures like it were a light breeze.

Inside the local tavern, aptly named the Frozen Hearth, things were much like they normally were.

“I'm sorry, could you describe the… smell?” an elf in worn out mage robes asked in a tone that made clear he really didn’t want to be having this conversation.

“It’s like some horrible monster was turned inside out, and then exploded. What did you do in there?”  the rather irritated owner told him.

“It was a minor miscalculation. I've already corrected it for future experiments.” The Altmer told him dismissively.

“I hope that ‘correction’ involves more fiber in yer diet, Nelacar.”

Nelacar gave him a sneer and promptly returned to his room, which had been converted into his private study and laboratory in the years he’d been there.

The owner of the inn, Dagur, gave a tired sigh as he wiped down the counter despite the fact that it was already clean. “Can you believe that guy?” he asked his wife, who was currently sweeping the floors “I tell ya, this is the kind of stuff that makes people hate the college.”

“At least he pays his bills.” Haran reminded him “Unlike someone else we know.” She said as the door opened and their only regular customer walked in and dragged his feet to the nearest table.

“Hey guys,” he said sourly “what’ve you got on th’ menu today?”

“That depends,” Haran told him “do ya actually feel like paying your tab this time?”

“Jus’ get me the usual. I’ll pay later.” He snorted.

Haran rolled her eyes. “Right, one Honningbrew coming up.”

Silence persisted in the Frozen Hearth once Ranimir had gotten his drink and was back in his usual depressed stupor. Haran often wished that one day a traveling musician, perhaps from the Bard’s college would stop by one day, and if they were lucky, even settle down in Winterhold. It would certainly liven up the desolate old place to have some music present. She had tried taking up the lute herself at one point, but simply failed to get the hang of it past strumming out the barest semblance of old melodies, and thus, only the crackling of the fire and the creaking of the wall boards remained to break the quiet.

That is… until a silver-haired Bosmer kicked in the front door and dragged her friends inside.

“We made it!” she said triumphantly as she slammed the door on the cold behind them.

“Thank the stars.” rasped out one of her followers, a winged woman with a severe case of frostbite.

Being the attentive barkeep that he was, Dagur immediately rushed over to help them. “My goodness, are you folks alright?” he said as he helped them to their feet and over to one of the many unoccupied tables “Ya look like you were all chewed up by ice wraiths! Is there anything I can do fer ya? Anything at all?”

“Something warm to drink,” Fenora said as she set Luna and Stross into their seats before sitting into one herself “Hot chocolate would be preferable, but I’ll be willing to accept tea at this point.”

At that moment, Stross swayed uneasily back and forth. “No alcohol… it constricts the blood vessels leading to loss of circulation in th’ blub blah blurr…” he said in a quivering voice before petering out and faceplanting onto the table.

“And perhaps a pillow or two.” Fenora added.

“Comin’ right up. Be back in a sec!” Dagur told them.

While she waited for the barkeep to return with their drinks, Fenora checked over her friends to make sure they’d be alright. After funneling a healing potion into eat of their mouths for good measure, she took the spare moment to sift through her pack and make sure she still had all her gear with her.

“Let’s see… bag of septims and a few small gems… bow with plenty of arrows… extra clothes… one blunt weapon and one edged weapon… dried meat and bottled water… hmm, I’ll need to get more mead and potions…” Fenora set her bag aside and leaned back in her chair with a determined grin.

The entrance to the college was no less than a short walk to the other end of the small town, once they got there they’d hopefully have the answers to Luna’s magic problems. There could also be information about the dragons that have been returning, like a weakness that they could exploit in the future; the last two times they’d had to fight one of the beasts it had been far too risky and unorganized; improvised at best, really. The fact they not only survived, but also won was practically a miracle.

She might even learn something useful for their travels, something to reduce the amount of walking would be nice. Truly, the elvish Dragonborn couldn’t wait to see what the mages had to offer. Yet something still tugged at her, restraining her eagerness.

Fenora looked over to Luna and Stross, smiling slightly at the way they had passed out with their heads on the hardwood tabletop. To be honest, she was pretty floored at the way both of them had so readily dropped everything to help her save Skyrim, Stross because of his kind nature and apparent love for her, and Luna out of a sense of duty to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. She couldn’t help but feel honored to be considered a friend by them.

The mages could wait. At least until morning once they’d all had a chance to rest and recover.

“Here ya are!” a cheerful voice called to them “Three hot chocolates and a pair of pillows. Anything else you need?” Dagur asked as he handed Fenora a cup of the sweet steaming drink and placed the other two between Luna a Stross along with the cushions.

“Actually yes. Do you have any rooms open? I think we’re all ready to turn in for the night.”

Dagur let out a chuckle. “Of course! It’s not like we get many travelers this far out in the middle of nowhere. The only other guests here are Nelacar and those four young apprentice mages en route to the college.” He said, happily surprised at the number of new customers as of late.

“Thank you, we’ll have thr… two rooms please.” Fenora said and handed him the septims for the rooms and the drinks “And what did you mean by the ‘four apprentice mages’?”

“Oh, that lot. A right bunch of misfits they are. They came marchin’ into town just this morning all full of bravado and goin’ on about how they’ll be the next great mages and command respect from the far reaches of Nirn and blah blah blah, only to fail the entrance exam. So they dragged themselves back to my inn, drank themselves into a stupor and crashed downstairs in the cellar.” Dagur shook his head “We threw some blankets over them and figured we’d let them sleep off their worries. They should be awake by ‘morrow sometime.”

Suddenly Dagur had a thought occur to him. “Say, you wouldn’t be heading to the college as well, would ya?”

“Actually we are.” Fenora told him.

“Then perhaps you can take that exam and show them other wannabe mages how it’s done!” Dagur gave a laugh “Well sleep tight, and let me know if there’s anythin’ else you need.”

Fenora sipped down the last of her hot chocolate, enjoying the rich taste before setting the empty mug on a nearby table. She bottled the other two, as Stross and Luna wouldn’t be drinking them for at least a few hours. “Alright, time for bed you two.” She moved over to her friends that were clearly wiped out and moving into a deep sleep.

She decided to start with Luna, slowly lifting her off the bench seat and carrying her over to one of the rooms, one hand holding onto her waist, the other gripping the arm that was slung over her shoulder. Opening the door with her signature style... kicking, she brought Luna over to the simple bed and carefully laid her down, hoping that she wouldn’t mind that fact that it too was lined with animal pelts as she pulled the covers up over the Princesses shoulders.

Luna let out a muted groan and hugged the pillow beneath her head. At that moment her hair stopped flowing in its magical breeze and fell limply down the bedside and onto the stone floor like a silky waterfall of the night sky.

Fenora let out a sigh and left the room while rubbing her temples, reappearing moments later with a pair of magika potions, their last remaining two. Hoping the Mages’ College had more for them to buy, she placed them on the nightstand for Luna to drink when she awoke.

"Don't worry Princess, we're going to get you some help."

Fenora quietly closed the door and went back to get Stross, finding the changeling right where he was a minute ago, still passed out on the table. She couldn’t help but snicker at the way his head was pressed against the wood, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and a small puddle of drool forming.

She carefully picked him up so as not to disturb his sleep. His body was much lighter than she expected, allowing her to carry him to the room with ease. Getting into the room wasn’t too difficult considering no one was just standing mindlessly in the narrow doorway like she'd seen so many people do... Lydia, I'm looking at you here.

Fenora bumped Stross’s feet against the wall a little on accident, causing little more than a small stir from him before she was able to set him down on the bed. This one was slightly larger than the one she put Luna into, and this was intentional, as she and Stross could easily share it if they slept back to back. Plus it saved her ten septims on having to get another room… smart right?

At least… that’s the excuse she made up, trying to deny her emotions as she’d done so admirably thus far.

The truth was, she wanted to be closer to Stross, if only for one night. This kind of feeling was new to her however, and Fenora couldn't figure out why she felt so strongly attached; Stross was clearly in love with her, but whether she felt the same way about him or not was a question she’d been struggling with practically since they met. It had been just over a week ago since that day at Helgen, and while she knew they’d stick by each other through anything, and she trusted him completely, and would even be willing to put her life on the line for him, she still wasn’t sure if that mean she loved him the way he loved her.

Stross clearly sought the sort of romantic connection that he’d been denied by with so many others, but Fenora wanted their relationship based more towards the bond that the best of friends and allies shared as they survived adventures and perils together. At least, that's what she had been aiming for.

Lately though, questions of whether that’s what she really wanted, and so much more had been plaguing Fenora’s mind; now more than ever, she was unsure, scared even. She looked at Stross and ran her hand across his cheek, eliciting a smile and a small purr as he slept. This caused her to smile as well, and after a moment she let out a sigh. She sat herself on the edge of the bed and weighed her options, trying to make sense of her feelings yet again.

Fenora had no doubt, Stross wouldn’t mind if she did this. The little changeling had latched onto her since day one and relished any form of contact with her. The real question was, did she want to do this? Perhaps it would be too sudden, and the timing was hardly ideal, having just endured a harsh trip like they had, with Stross exhausted and peacefully asleep, it may be better to respect his space, and not risk the friendship they already had.

But being together with him, snuggled under the blankets against the cold, it would be so easy, so nice.

"Stross... why do I love you so much?"

Fenora sighed again and got up from the bedside, walking over to the door. Maybe thinking these things wasn’t for the best, and it wasn’t too late to back out by any means, and there could always be another time. She could just walk away, close the door, get another room, and go to sleep in her own bed.

Fenora took a final deep breath as she looked at Stross’s sleeping form in the light that shown from the open doorway. Finally, she made her decision, going over the steps in her head and translated them into physical actions.

Just walk away.

Close the door.

Rent another room.

Lay down.

Close your eyes.

And fall asleep.

...

Yeah…

But snuggling with you in bed is delightful

Changelings didn’t require sleep to function. Something about how their minds were wired to accept and sort information, and how their bodies only needed a steady supply of ‘love energy’ to replenish themselves allowed them to continue trucking along without ever having to stop.

Normally for Stross, this was a very fortunate thing, for whenever he fell asleep or knocked into unconsciousness, whether by accident or by choice, he would be constantly bombarded with terrible nightmares. Some times it was being chased and hunted down to being burned at the stake. Even worse were memories of his failed attempts to love, where those he had chosen or fallen for, eventually trusted enough to reveal himself to, had only seen him for a monster and either ran away in terror or tried to kill him for impersonating the loved one he'd been all along. For these reasons Stross feared to sleep, because in sleep there was only pain for him.

But tonight was so much different. He was asleep, his lucid mind was aware of this much, and yet for some reason there were no bad memories, no horrible nightmares. There was only a pleasant warmth and softness that wrapped around him, accompanied by the smell of fresh mountain air and barbecued chicken. Mmm... chicken.

Unfortunately, this dream-like state had to end sometime, and Stross was reluctant to wake. Try as he might to remain in his slumber, he was slowly ripped away and brought back to the waking world. But still, the warm feeling remained with him. Stross was happy for this, he pulled it closer and nuzzled it slightly, not wanting to ever let it go. And for a few more moments, he just lay there, savoring the wonderful feeling he had upon his awakening. It felt so good, and filled him with a sense of safety and happiness.

Then, finally deciding to open his eyes, Stross began to take in his surroundings. His eyes were immediately drawn away from the generic furnishings and wooden walls of the room, and landed on what he had cuddled to his chest in his sleep, and in turn, had cuddled him right back.

It took a moment for him to process what he was seeing, but one he did, all mental floodgates broke.

“Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh, ohmygosh! She’s- and I’m- and we’re… Squeeeeeohmygosh ohmygoshohmygosh!” his mind buzzed with though before it all melted together into a whitewashed silence.

Fenora was there with him under the covers, snoring into the softer scales around his neck, hugging him as close to herself as was physically possible without fusing her skin to his shell. Stross could only smile and blush as he tried to contain his excitement. He bit into his lower lip, wincing when he drew blood with his pointy teeth, but remained ecstatic all the same.

“This is... It’s real.” He thought to himself “It's not just another dream! I'm- and she's- This is really real! Ohmygoshohmygoshohmy-”

“Hmmn…” Fenora groaned beside him as she was jostled from sleep by his jittering. “Stross? Wha’time’sit?” she slurred together in her sleepy state.

Stross couldn’t contain it anymore, he started giggling. He rubbed his cheek against the top of Fenora’s head. “Good morning Fen.” He whispered and kept hold of her. "I'm your personal snugglebug."

“Hmm, morning… m’kay.” Fenora shut her eyes, pressed her face back into Stross like a pillow and drifted off again.

And then her brain turned on.

“Wait. Stross!?” She yelped and grabbed his head in her hands, sitting bolt upright in the same motion “How’d you get in here?” she looked around the room “What am I doing in here?! Why can’t I remember…” her brain quickly pieced together the obvious “I crawled into bed with you, didn’t I?” she asked what she already knew.

“Mmm-hmm.” Stross nodded from within her tightening vise-grip.

“We didn’t have sex, did we?”

“Uhh…” Stross took too long to give a proper answer.

Fenora dropped his head onto the pillow and immediately pulled up the covers, breathing a sigh of relief a second later once she realized both she and Stross were still in their clothes, a hundred worries that had been assaulting her mind instantly vanishing.

“Fen? You alright?” Stross gently held her hand in his, any previous joy or excitement quickly fading away.

Fenora swallowed hard and tried to breathe normally before answering “Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… I’m fine. I just thought that we… you know.”

…

“Was it something I did? I'm sorry.”

Fenora looked over at the changeling sitting next to her, a bit thrown off by how guilty he sounded. “No, it wasn’t you.” she assured him and touched a hand to his shoulder “If anything, it was me. I just… I wasn’t thinking straight, last night I mean. Maybe it was the cold, or maybe- I don't know. You were already asleep, and I wanted to be with you, and well… I’m just a little lost, okay?”

“Do you want me to stop getting close to you?” Stross asked suddenly, throwing her for a loop “It’s okay if you don’t want to love me.”

“What? No! No no no!” Fenora shook him “Stross… I…" she breathed "I've been having some issues is all, and it’s just really hard for me to understand.”

"Are you okay." Stross looked at her with genuine concern, his misty blue eyes almost unblinking, showing he wanted to know more.

“I'm fine, but I’ve been having these feelings about you and I've never really felt this way about anyone before…  you see I’ve… I know what it’s supposed to mean. I should be happy to have you- and I am, but… I don’t even know if I… if I really…” Fenora struggled to find the right words, and the fact that Stross kept staring at her in dead silence the whole time didn’t help a bit.

She clenched her teeth in a growl of frustration before finally just saying what was on her mind, no matter how personal.

“Stross, I like you a lot.” she said firmly “I really, really like you. You’re so sweet and funny and nice, and ever since we’ve met I’ve felt good by just being around you!” she let out a sigh “I know you love me, you’ve shown and proven that over and over, but I’m just not sure if I feel the same. I want to love you, only I’ve never let anyone get close to me; I've never felt comfortable with it. I wanted to just take this slowly and be friends with you first, but it’s so hard to not wrap you in a big hug every time I look at you.” she looked back at him “It scares me how fast I’m falling for you, and I'm wondering if this is how things- how love is supposed to go.”

Stross was silent, averting his eyes and seemingly deep in thought.

“Stross… I know you've been hurt before, and you want someone to truly love you, to know what you are and want to be with you regardless. I would gladly be that someone. But for both our sakes, I want it to be real.” Fenora held his hands in hers, “I don’t want to end up hurting you like all the others if this-“

“Fen.” Stross interrupted her, his voice cold and even “I need to do something.” his horn lit up.

“What is it?”

“Magical cleansing.” Stross stated “This will remove any lingering magical effect on you; more specifically, any of mine that I didn’t know about.”

With his short explanation out of the way, Stross moved his horn closer to Fenora’s head. She stopped him however, backing up apprehensively from the glow around his horn, which had turned from its normal soothing red and gold to a sickly green.

“Stross, what do you mean? Did you use something on me?” Fenora asked.

Stross backed away a bit, letting the light on his horn flicker out. “I don’t know. There were times when I’ve had to use influence spells in order to win a pony’s favor, using their false feelings for me in order to survive. I’ve hated it, it always feels wrong and I almost never use it. But when I first came to Skyrim I was starving to death and you were the first person that didn’t try to hurt me. If I’ve used one on you at any point and can’t remember… if I forgot to remove it, it might have been forcing your decisions this whole time.” he looked to her with a pleading expression “Just let me do this. I don't want to love through lies anymore.”

Fenora thought about it for a short moment before giving a nod. Stross lit his horn again, bringing it towards her forehead. She met him halfway and there was a bright flash of light. Stross leant back again, watching Fenora as she rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times.

“So… you haven’t run away or attacked me. That’s good.” Stross observed “Feel any different?”

Fenora opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by a rather obnoxious growl from her stomach. “Hungry.” she told him, trying to get an easy way out “I know I can’t think about anything on an empty stomach, much less relationships. I’ll let you know after breakfast if I notice any major changes.  Don’t worry about it, okay?”

She was about halfway to the door when a tug on her arm halted her advance. She looked back to see that Stross had gotten up as well, still holding onto her like she would fall away the moment he let go. “Fen. Just promise me… that no matter what happens you won’t leave me behind.” Stross said, his voice breaking slightly.

Fenora stepped back over to him, taking his hand in hers while using the other to cup his cheek and bring his gaze into hers. “Stross,” she told him gently “I already promised I wouldn't ever leave you. Love or not, I need you too much. And even if you did use some kind of changeling mind-trick on me, I couldn’t get mad at you.” she told him truthfully, much to his surprise “I’m happy when I’m with you. And after all you’ve done, I couldn’t possibly get mad over something so minor as wanting to be loved.”

"Okay..." Stross whispered softly "Okay..."

It was then that Fenora pulled him in and planted a quick kiss on his lip. It lasted less than a second, but it reassured him more than any answer she could have given.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.” She said and dragged him out of their room.

With the use of his legs failing him and his mind still replaying that one special second over and over, Stross was in no position to argue.

Meet the mages

Breakfast itself had turned out to be pretty uneventful so far. After calming Luna down from her panic attack when she awoke under a mass of pelts. and subsequently paying for a new bed and door for that room, they'd all settled down for a nice calm meal before they headed next door to the college. Stross was idly sipping at his coco, while Fenora dug into her second salmon steak. Luna meanwhile refused to eat hers, opting instead for the grilled carrots and leeks that came on the side. It was around this time, about halfway through their meal, that a few pairs of eyes peeked out at them from the basement door.

“We know you’re staring at us.” Fenora stated plainly.

There was a noisy clatter of several bodies jumping in fright and subsequently falling down a flight of stairs. Luna and Stross took a curious glance in the direction of the basement door as Fenora kept eating her fish.

“Okay guys, let’s keep it cool. Follow my lead.” One voice said in a loud whisper.

A second later the basement door flew open, a mysterious looking smoke cover leaking out and covering the feet of those who stepped out. The first was a Nord in farmers clothes, the second was a Khajiit with a scarf bundled tightly around his neck, behind them was a dark elf in a silken cloak with a deep hood; each of them strode forward as the final member appeared in a flash of light like some kind of stage performer, adjusting the brim of her oversized star-patterned hat with a flourish.

Their leader then flipped the white-streaked hair out of her face and adorned a pair of shades, even though they were indoors. The others followed suit and followed her as she approached our heroes, snapping their fingers in time with their steps as they did so. The group ending their journey across the inn with a quick dance twirl, which caused most of them to trip and fall over.

“What is this, West side story?” Stross thought to himself as he watched their routine.

“So,” Fenora said around her mouthful of food as she finally turned to face them “What d’ you dorks want?”

The group seemed taken aback by Fenora’s bluntness, their leader most of all, but continued all the same. “We hear you wish to gain access to the prestigious College of Winterhold.”

“Yeah? What of it?” Fenora said with disinterest, yet she watched the group of four carefully.

“Well you must have heard of their rigorous entry test. Do you believe you have what it takes to pass?” The woman in the wizard hat challenged.

“Doesn’t matter.” Fenora told her, much to the woman’s shock “We’re not looking to enroll, we’re here to request their help.”

“Hah! Do you foolish fools know nothing of the College’s rules?” she said in the most condescending tone imaginable “Only those who have proven their magical aptitude may even set foot in the college, let alone call for their aid.”

“Where are you going with this?” Fenora got straight to the point.

“Well you see my newbie mages, I, the great and powerful Trixie, would like to aid you in passing this test.” Trixie said with a devious grin.

Fenora just stared back at her for a second. “How are you going to help us pass when you couldn’t do it yourselves?” she asked, giving a smirk when Trixie’s eyes shot open and the shades leapt right off her face. “You’re those apprentice mages Dagur told me about last night; something about failing the test and coming here to drown your sorrows?”

“Dagur! You‘ve turned us into gossip already? You no good sha’tha!” the Khajiit yelled at the barkeep.

“It seems you already know,” the nord man admitted with a sigh as he discarded his sunglasses “we all failed the test, none of us could perform the spell they required of us. If you’re going to enter the college, then we'd be in your debt if you help us get in too; we’ve come too far to give up now.”

“You want us to teach you how to do the spell for the test?” Stross asked.

“No, we simply need you to pass the test for us.” The dark elf told him.

Stross just stared back for a second. “She can’t be serious. They must be joking.” He thought.

“You’re joking right? Do you have any idea how much energy it would take to turn into each of you, take the test four separate times while maintaining those illusion spells, and then take it once more for each of ourselves as well?!” Stross explained the implications “I’d be exhausted for days!”

“W-what? No!” the dark elf stammered “I mean, take it once and pass it, and then they’ll let us all in.”

“It’s true.” the nord told him “The gatekeeper on the bridge told us that so long as one of us had the ability, the others would be admitted so they can follow in the footsteps of their most advanced peer ‘like a great rhino charging through the forest, clearing the way for others to follow in a stampede of greatness’ or something like that.”

“Oh, well in that case,” Stross stood up on his chair and posed like the captain of a ship. “My friends, I am your ticket to inside! Onward!”

Nearly the second he’d said that the aspiring mages hoisted him onto their shoulders and rushed out the door into the freezing cold, accidentally hitting his head on the door frame in the process. This left only Luna and Fenora left in the inn, the latter mourning a wasted opportunity.

“He didn’t even think about charging them.” the bosmer said with a sad sigh as the two of them followed the crowd.

“Okay… this is kind of intimidating.” Stross admitted once they had reached the entrance to the college, allowing him to see the stone archways that led to the crumbling bridge, across which sat the College of Witherhold; so remote and removed from the rest of the world.

“Don’t worry, just go up and tell the gatekeeper you want to take the entrance test.” The nord encouraged him.

“We’ll all be waiting right here for you.” the dark elf tried her best to be reassuring.

“Don’t forget, we’re all counting on your success.” Trixie reminded him.

Stross took a deep breath, shuttering a bit as the cold air filled his lungs. “Okay, wish me luck.” He said as he ascended the steps that led to the gate, passing from their vision as he was swallowed up by the fog and snow covering the entrance.

“Good luck.” The dark elf said meekly once Stross was surely out of earshot.

Only half a minute later, the changeling returned to them, a look of disappointment and disbelief plastered on his face. “Really you guys? Really?”

“What do you-“

“A fireball spell.” Stross said blankly “All you had to do in order to pass the stupid test was cast a single fireball spell.”

“Uh… well…” the nord rubbed the back of his neck.

“J’zargo has yet to learn this spell.” The Khajiit told him “But soon, J’zargo shall know all the spells, even the ones that don't exist.”

“The great and powerful Trixie… has a great and powerful cold.”

The dark elf simply pulled her hood further over her face.

Stross about faced and trudged back to the fog covered gate, grumbling incoherently the whole time.

“Seriously though, that’s pretty sad you guys.” Fenora told them as she watched Stross stomp off.

A few moments later a series of what looked to be small meteorites shot into the sky, dozens upon dozens of them launching upwards from within the concealing fog around the college gate. Then the red dots simply hung there, suspended as if the sky had received some new stars. As everyone’s eyes were drawn to the phenomenon, one final comet shot up into the sky where it ignited the rest of the dots to form big shining letters of gold and crimson.

Written in the sky in big blazing uppercase letters was a message that read: NOT DIFFICULT!

Fenora gave a short laugh. “I think it’s safe to say we can go in now.”

Once the others managed to pull their jaws off the frozen ground, they followed Fenora and Luna up to the gate. The first thing they noticed upon reaching it was that the fog cover had dispersed, the second thing they noticed was Stross desperately trying to put out a multitude of fires around the college gatekeeper.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” the changeling yelled as he futilely stamped on a patch of fire.

The gatekeeper shrugged “Oh bother, this college has been through worse; you should have seen my first time here.” she told him dismissively and continued roasting marshmallows on the flames. She quickly noticed however, that they had company, and addressed them as well. “Ah, and you must be his plus-ones. I shall tell you now, you all have quite a lot to live up to.”

She snapped her fingers, and as though they'd been doused with water, the surrounding flames dispersed. “Follow me.” she said and led the way across the bridge.

The College of Winterhold basically consisted of a stone fortress that sat atop a rock spire in the middle of a freezing sea. Even so, it offered the solitude the mages needed to focus on their studies, and the isolation to mitigate any danger that their experiments might cause.

However, this also left it incredibly hard to get to, and the only way to reach the college proper was to cross what remained of a stone bridge. It was practically a miracle the old thing was still standing, what with most of its lower supports having succumbed to time and the elements. Not only that, but it was also incredibly slick with snow and ice, something Stross was all too aware of.

“Man are you kidding me? I realize this is like the only way to the college since it’s all the way over there, but come on, they could at least maintain it a little more.” He thought as he took slow, wobbly steps forward, to the point that he was falling behind a majority of the others. The only other mage who was taking it as slowly seemed to be Trixie, who was wobbling unsurely on her legs, but he didn’t take much note of it as he continued his mental ramblings.

“I mean really, these guys are mages! They could come up with a way to keep the bridge clear of all this snow. In fact I’ve thought of one now, salt! Just sprinkle a little down once a week. Or maybe they could make a covering for the bridge with some closable windows. Heck they could even put up a teleporter between the entrance and… anywhere really. They have magic after all. And what’s with-“

Stross was quickly pulled out of his angrily productive thoughts when he found his forward foot had nothing beneath it and he was about to plummet towards the icy ground several hundred feet below.

“Gah! No no no no n-“ Stross screamed before he realized something had him tethered to the bridge.

“Stross, the next test is not a leap of faith.” Fenora told him and yanked him back from the edge, several chuckles coming from the other mages.

“Indeed,” Faralda the gatekeeper told them “the next test is instead, a test of knowledge.” She waved to another woman that stood across the next portion of the bridge, the damaged part Stross had nearly fallen from. “They’re all yours Professor Mcgonaga- I mean… Miss Ervine.”

“Thank you Faralda. Now then, I am Mirabelle Ervine and I shall test your trival wisdom. Choose one among you to represent your knowledge and have them step forward.” She instructed them in a pleasant yet commanding tone.

The mages huddled together and debated among themselves who to send forward. After a few frantic seconds filled with mutterings of “You go up there.” and “I didn’t even know there was another test, you do it.” and “You’re the smartest one of us Brelyna, you should go.” It Trixie broke out of their group.

“Enough!” she silenced them and adjusted her comically oversized hat “The Great and Powerful Trixie is far superior in intellect than any of you foals! Therefore, Trixie shall take the test.” She strode forward across the crumbling and icy segment of the bridge, albeit slowly. “Ask me your questions gatekeeper, the Great and Powerful Trixie is not afraid.”

“Very well. What is your name?”

Trixie scoffed. “Have you not heard alreadly, the Great and Powerful Trixie is the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“What is your quest?”

“To gain knowledge of magic greater than anypony has ever dreamed of, and become the greatest magician this world has ever seen!”

“What… is your favorite color?”

“Umm, purple I guess.” Trixie sounded unsure “What does that have to do with-“

“What is the meaning of life, the universe and everything?” Mirabelle asked, leaving Trixie only able to stutter in the wake of such an ambiguous question. "Uh... the meaning of... life, the universe. Everything!?" she said and wracked her mind for anything that might have been the answer.

“My name is Princess Luna of Equestria.” Luna stated clearly. “I shall answer your questions in Miss Trixie's stead."

Trixie spun around and her eyes went wide, stumbling and nearly falling off the bridge as Luna cleared her throat.

"From the top," Luna spoke "My quest is to first seek the answers of why my magic is failing me in this land and then to assist in saving it from the dragons that wish it destroyed. My favorite color is currently bright yellow accented with darker yellow. And finally, the answer to life, the universe, and everything... is forty-tw-”

"FORTY-TWO! I knew it." Stross cut her off.

"Stross..." Luna turned to him coldly "Doth thou remember what we told you about never interrupting us?"

The changeling shifted nervously. "Uh, to never do it if I valued my life? But we're friends now. I thought that-"

"Indeed." Luna spoke slowly "Just remember that you can fly." she then shoved him off the collapsed portion of the bridge, screaming hysterically the whole way.

The apprentice mages gasped in shock and carefully peered over the edge. Stross reappeared from the blizzard below after several tense seconds, hovering on the other side of the walkway. "Okay! No more interrupting! Got it!" he yelled as he touched down to where he once stood.

"Very good." Luna nodded and turned back to Mirabelle "May we enter now."

Mirabelle just stared at her with her eyebrows raised for a minute. “Well... I must warn you of the importance of not harming your fellow students. But you have passed my test, and may enter.”

There was a round of cheers and much rejoicing as the mages carefully walked across the bridge with our heroes.

One mage with an oversized hat and a star-patterned cloak however, was still standing there, speechlessly lingering behind as she looked at the ruler of the night. “P-Pr-Princess Luna?” she managed to say, still in her initial shock. "The buck?"

The old courtyard in the center of the college was pretty bare save for a few snow-covered pine trees and a large statue of the famous mage Shalador in the center, standing over what looked like some circular wellspring of magical energy.

“So I suppose the first thing to do is give you the tour of the college.” Mirabelle said as she led them past the statue of Shalador requesting that any brethren to come towards him.

“That door leads to the Hall of Attainment.” She pointed towards a door to their left “Pretty much just a fancy name for the dorms. That trapdoor over there leads to the Midden, but be wary, there’s dangerous magic lingering in that area, so don’t go down there unless you want to get hacked apart by skeletons.” Finally rounding the ‘come at me bro’ statue, Mirabelle led the group to the pair of ornate double doors that stood nearly twice as tall as they did. “And this… is the Hall of Elements! It is where the majority of lectures and classes will be held.”

Opening the massive doors, they all entered to begin their first lessons.

The interior of the Hall of Elements was much more impressive, and more roomy than the outside would have you believe. Just inside the doors were staircases to the left and right, leading to the other floors. To their front was an archway that led to a large open room that was sparsely lit by the eerie blue light from magical orbs hanging from the ceiling, walls, and embedded under the glass floor in the center of the room.

Our heroes and the apprentice mages made to step into the large room, only for the gate of ornately shaped metal to slam in their faces.

“You! Shall not! PASS!” thundered a voice behind them “…your exams if you don’t study.”

The group turned to around to find an elderly man with grey hair standing behind them with a cheerful smile, his staff still stuck in the floor from where he had slammed it down.

Mirabelle gave a sigh and introduced him. “Ah yes, this is-“

“Cool teacher.” He interrupted her “But you can all call me Tolfdir.” He put on a pair of purple shutter-shades.

“Right then, Tolfdir will be leading you through the introductory seminar.” Mirabelle informed them “If you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of paperwork do take care of.”

“Remember to leave the seat down!” Tolfdir called as she left, causing her to slam the door in annoyance.

He then turned back to the new apprentice mages and beckoned them to follow into the main hall. He conjured up a few beanbag chairs in and fell back into one, encouraging the others to do the same, which they did albeit with some confusion and reluctance. “Now then, how ‘bout we start off with some introductions. You know, tell some things about ourselves and get to know each other.”

Everyone else present let out a loud groan of displeasure.

“Do we have to?” the nord asked.

“J’zargo joined for the knowledge of how to destroy his enemies, not group therapy.” The Kha’jiit argued.

“Alright, alright.” Tolfdir said with a quick laugh “If it make you feel better, I’ll go first. My name is Tolfdir and I’ve been teaching at this college for thirty-one years now. I’ve spent most of my time learning the alteration field of magic, but have also majored in conjuration and cooking. My peers have often called me absent-minded; but how could I not be when my mind is off on it fantastical journeys of discovery? After all, knowledge is a cornerstone in living life to its fullest. I intend to assist any who wish to better themselves through academic pursuits; there’s nothing I enjoy more than seeing fresh new faces come to pursue their dreams and study the arcane arts.”

With that Tolfdir finished, stopping himself before he began rambling too much. There was a soft clapping and all eyes turned to Stross, who was giving a teary-eyed round of applause. “That was beautiful.” He managed to choke out.

“Why, thank you. Would you like to go next?” Tolfdir asked.

“Umm, I guess if no one else wants to.” Stross looked around to see the others sagged further into their beanbag chairs and full of disinterest and boredom, Luna and Fenora gesturing to go ahead if he felt he really had to. “Alright then.”

Stross cleared his throat and began. “Uh, my name is Stross, and I’m a changeling.” Trixie's glare intensified at this, and she not-so-subtly waited for Stross to pull something sneaky.

“I’m actually from another world, if you’ll believe that." Stross continued "I’ve been in Skyrim for about a week or so now, but it feels like a whole lot longer with everything that’s happened. I’ve been all over Whiterun, fought bandits with the Companions, did some errands for the Thieves Guild, met the Greybeards at High Hrothgar… It’s been crazy, and fun… and dangerous.” Stross took a breath before continuing “But it’s all been totally worth it, because for once, people aren’t afraid of me. Unlike back in Equestria, they don’t see me as some soul-eating abomination; instead, I’m just another person, one who’s trying to do as much good as he can and is always willing to help.”

“I’ve even found someone here who loves me, and I haven’t had to pretend I’m someone I’m not.” He turned his head to look a Fenora “I’ll always be grateful for that, and I’ll never let this world be destroyed while I can help save it.”

As Stross completed his introduction, he opened his eyes to see that three of the apprentice mages had scooted closer to him, all of them ready to bombard him with questions.

“You’re from another world?”

“What’s a changeling? Are there others like you?”

“Does this Equestria have powerful magics?” they asked in quick succession, surprising Stross with their levels of interest.

“Uh… yes to all three.” Stross answered shakily “So, who are all of you then?”

“Oh, where are my manners?” The nord was the first to reply. “My name’s Onmund. I came here to learn magic even though the rest of my friends and family said it was a waste of time; they’re more the type to bash problems in the head with a club than to think their way around them.” He finished and then motioned to the dunmer next to him. She looked about nervously and pulled her hood over her face again.

Seeing she wasn’t going to do it herself, Onmund went ahead and introduced her. “This is Brelyna Maryon. She came here for pretty much the opposite reason I did, what with her being from House Telvani and all. They have some crazy high expectations for her.”

“Onmund!” Brelyna glared at him from under her hood.

“She’s kinda shy, doesn’t like it when people bring up her heritage.” Onmund then turned to the Kha’jiit “And this is-“

“J’zargo is J’zargo.” J’zargo interrupted “Nothing more needs to be said, as soon, J’zargo will be so powerful in the arcane arts that mere mention of his name alone shall speak for him, invoking terror and respect across the world and even into the eight realms of- mmph hmmph mrr!”

“Yeah, you get the idea.” Onmund said as he hastily clamped J’zargo’s mouth shut. “And the lady in the star cloak and hat is Trixie, if you haven’t already heard. Odd, she’s usually more into things then this.” He rolled his eyes “Don’t be rude, say hello Miss Great and Powerful.”

Trixie pretended not to hear him and kept glaring at Stross.

“I’m sorry to interrupt this, but I really-“ Fenora tried to say but was cut off by Tolfdir. “What?”

Tolfdir made a sweeping gesture towards her with his hand.

Fenora lowered her brow and stared back. “Do I really have to?”

Tolfdir gave a smile and a nod.

Fenora gave an irritated sigh. “My name is Fenora Tandis. I’m a farmer from High Rock and a traveler at times. I came to Skyrim and found out I was dragonborn, now I have to save all of Nirn from Alduin the dragon lord of time.” she droned before quickly turning her tone more serious “And that’s why I’ve come here. Luna’s an alicorn Princess with an ungodly amount of power at her disposal but it’s been failing her for some reason. We came here in search of answers, and maybe something about dragons and their weaknesses. Can you help us?”

There was a stark silence all across the Hall of Elements, a rarity considering how acoustically tuned the chamber was.

“Day-um!” Tolfdir said, breaking the contagious quiet “Why didn’t you say so? The Arch-mage will surely wish to know about this. Ancano!”

“Arg! What do you want now, you rambling fool?” an altmer in black robes yelled as he stomped into the room from some unseen corner.

“These two require our assistance with a task of worldly proportions! You must take them to the Arch-mage and gain them an audience with him at once!” he declared from his slouched sitting position “I’d do it myself, but my chair refuses to let me get up.” He chuckled.

Ancano frowned, but agreed to lead Luna and Fenora to the Arch-mage anyway, grumbling “One day… one day you’ll all get yours.” not caring who heard it.

An awkward pause was shared between those who remained.

“Oh don’t worry too much about him.” Tolfdir dismissed the worry that hung in the air “He’s just a Thalmor. They sent him to keep an eye on us here at the college and make sure we don’t do anything dangerous that would blow up the world… again. Now then, if you’ll follow me, we can begin our first lesson. ” he conjured wheels on his beanbag chair and rolled to the other side of the room.

As the others followed, Stross thought aloud “So Tolfdir is an optimist teacher with the best of intentions… and Ancano is cynical jerk that’s clearly up to no good. And they have to work together in the same school.”

“J’zargo smells a sit-com.”

Stross and the mages gathered on the side of the circular room where Tolfdir led them and stood in a line, awaiting his instruction and most of them positively brimming with excitement at the prospect of learning some real spells for a change.

“I guess as long as I’m here, I should learn some more magic. These are supposedly the masters of magic from this world. And I’ve only got my illusion disguise, my stun and flash, and some impromptu healing and fire magic after all.”

“Alright, what would you all like to practice first?” Tofdir asked them.

“Wait… you mean we get to choose?” Onmund asked, taken off guard by the unorthodox teaching method.

“Well,” Stross began “if I remember anything about learning magic back in Equestria, the first and most important thing to do is go over safety guidelines and prepare the proper defensive measures so that-“

“Forget that! Let us blow something up!” J’zargo eagerly led them on.

“What?” Stross said in minor shock.

“Or perhaps we can learn how to summon atronachs to do our bidding.” Onmund chimed in.

“Trixie wishes to learn a spell that will allow her to see into her opponent’s minds!”

“What?!”

“Umm… perhaps we could read up on magical theory and how spells are created.” Brelyna suggested.

“WHA- actually… that sounds fine to me. Let’s do that.” Stross agreed with Brelyna, earning him a grateful smile from the dunmer, but disapproving looks from the rest.

Sensing an argument was about to break out, Tolfdir intervened before it could begin and offered them a compromise. “Well it seems we’re at an impasse here, so how about this; we’ll practice ward spells.” He then hit a brick that was slightly jutting out from one of the many stone pillars.

That odd brick happened to be a switch. With a clanking of gears hidden under the floor and walls, a column shifted round to reveal a sort of stone statue in the shape of a roaring dragon’s head. The sounds continued and a panel of solid stone wall slid into the floor, revealing a rack of health and magika potions.

“Now then, this training totem is armed with a variety of spell crystals, allowing you to test your wards against many different offensive spells. Simply bring up your ward, step on the pressure plate in front of it, and hope it’s strong enough.” Tolfdir explained with a chuckle. “Well don’t be shy, step forward.”

In near perfect harmony, each apprentice mage took a step back, leaving Stross standing obliviously a step ahead of them.

“Ah, quite the eager leader aren’t you?” Tolfdir said when he turned around.

Stross looked around, looking for who Tolfdir was referring to before pointing innocently at himself with a questioning look.

“Yes. Don’t worry it’s quite simple to learn really. Here,” he handed Stross a book on wards “take a look.”

Stross accepted the golden-yellow tome with a stylized bird on the cover and flipped it open. On the right pages were instructional pictures, while on the left were instructions that he assumed must have been in kindergarten font. He started at the first page and read aloud for the rest.

“Step one: Focus your energy.” He flipped to pages three and four. “Step two: Channel your energy into one hand.” He did this just as the crudely drawn picture depicted, but then noticed a scribbled in note at the bottom corner of the page “Huh, what’s this? A ward cast from one hand will consume less magika, but cast from two hands at once will further reduce incoming damage.”

“Probably the first helpful advice this book has given me.”

“Step three:” he continued “Project the energy outward until it forms a solid barrier between yourself and oncoming hostile magic.” Stross then noticed another scribbled in note “It helps to imagine a shield when you bring up the ward.”

Stross flipped some pages forward but found every one of them to be blank. This was odd to him, but he decided he’d use them to put in his own findings later. For now he stepped up to the trigger plate, quickly reviewed the steps in his head, and channeled his energy outwards. It started out as more of a sphere or a cone of mist rather than a solid barrier, but Stross remembered the note about imagining a shield.

Stross though hard about a shield, a powerful one; strong enough to repel any assault, a shield that could… No. Not a shield, a dome… a bright pink dome of destruction. He thought back to the day his kind invaded Canterlot, how he sat outside watching the city far in the distance, the cloud-like swarms of his kin suddenly and violently repelled by that great pink bubble, cast to the wind like so many grains of sand.

He remembered mere seconds later as the black scaly form of one of Chrysalis’s changelings crash-landed mere feet away from him, its broken, mangled, and blood-stained body writhing in the crater as it choked to death on its own blood, suffering and-

“Stross!” Brelyna shouted, kneeling at his side and pulling him from his panic attack “Are you okay? You were just standing there, and then you fell to your knees and started choking.”

Stross didn’t realize until now how heavily he was breathing, nor the fact that he had fallen, or even how his mouth was full of regurgitated resin. He swallowed hard and tried to clear his mouth before answering. “I… I’m okay but… I don’t think I can do this.” He heaved out.

“Hey, that’s alright. We all get stage fright.” Brelyna assured him “We’ll just let the others go first.”

Stross nodded and made his way to a corner where he could sit and watch the others. There was a strange feeling coming from each of them, different volumes of disappointment mixed with concern radiated from each of the mages. Brelyna was a bit different, as her aura was laced with bits of sympathy. Meanwhile, Trixie remained unusually cold and indifferent.

However, all these feelings quickly faded, replaced with excitement as each of them in turn stepped up to bat, nervousness and fear as they cast their wards, and a brand of punk humor when their fellow classmates were knocked onto their behinds by the force of their wards collapsing.

Stross smiled as he continued to sit back and watch, using this simple joy and schoolyard humor to clear his head.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” He told himself “You’re not there. You never have to go back.”

Fenora and Luna had reached the Arch-mage’s quarters with Ancano’s unenthused guidance. It was in a rather secluded part of the college, and from the clutter of books, alchemy ingredients, various potions, and half eaten meals strewn about the spacious room, it seemed its owner was equally withdrawn, preferring to remain in his personal study rather than be involved with the affairs of the school. It took a minor bit of persuading to even get him to open the door and let them in.

“Well then, have a seat wherever you can find room, allow me to get the kettle; I was just brewing a pot.” Savos Aren, the Arch-mage said to them as they entered, still with a distant look in his eyes.

Fenora cleared a heap of books off a nearby chair and offered it to Luna before hopping up on the accompanying side table, idly swinging her legs a bit as they waited for the Arch-mage to return.

Ancano, being the posh and persnickety prick that he was refused to take a seat anywhere among the filthy décor, and opted instead to stand, this would also grant him the ability to look down on the others as he addressed them. He did so enjoy that.

Within a minute or so, Savos returned from his make-shift kitchen with a trey of teacups, of which there were two too many, and gave the group his mostly undivided attention. “Now then, what seems to be the trouble?”

Luna was about to answer when Ancano cut her off. “These two cretins came in with the latest group of apprentices and demanded your valuable attention in-“

“Shut it Thalmor.” Fenora shoved a literal sock in his mouth “We have royalty present and she can speak for herself.” She nodded to Luna, who gave a small gesture back and continued.

“As we were about to say before we were so… RUDELY INTERRUPTED!” she blasted Ancano with her royal Canterlot voice, causing him to stumble backwards into a pile of pizza boxes. “Greetings Arch-mage, we are Princess Luna of Equestria, and have come-ith here to seek aid from your knowledge of the arcane.”

Savos raised an eyebrow.

“She’s from another world and her magic is getting drained here, and we don’t know why. We came here to fix that ‘cause this is the place that’s all about the magics.” Fenora gave a simple summery.

“Ah, well if there is a solution to what ails you, you may just find it here. Or it may find you as the case so often is.” Savos gave a laugh “Unfortunately, I am a bit enthralled by my own studies, but my Master wizard Mirabelle Ervine should be able to help you with whatever you need.”

“Ah yes, the one that tests the knowledge of arbitrary trivia on the new students. We shall seek her out then. We thank you for your time, Arch-mage.” Luna got up and headed for the staircase.

It took a while to fine the Master wizard, who happened to be in the Hall of Attainment reading a book on some ancient magical arts in her spare time. It took Mirabelle a moment to register their presence, but once she had quickly hopped up from her seat to help the two guests of the college.

“Yes? Is there something I can help the two of you with?” she asked as she slid her bookmark between the pages and set the tome aside.

“Indeed. The Arch-mage hath directed us to you for assistance.” Luna informed her.

Mirabelle rolled her eyes. “What doesn’t he pass of for me to do anymore? What seems to be the trouble? No wait- let me guess. You can’t cast magic because you’re always out of magika.”

Luna was slightly taken aback by how Mirabelle was able to nail the question so accurately. “Wh- Yes. But how did…”

Fenora poked her and gestured to her hair, which had once again stopped flowing in its ethereal breeze and limply cascaded down her shoulders and back.

“Oh not again!” Luna huffed as she pulled a few locks out of her face.

“Here,” Mirabelle offered her a magika potion “I’ve always got a few of these hanging around. Now how ‘bout you tell me more about this… thing you have going on?”

Luna sighed “It is quite possibly the most frustrating thing I’ve had to experience since coming to this world. I feel almost helpless without my magic. The former student of this college and court wizard known as Farengar has determined that some form of magical parasite is eating away my supply of magical power.”

“Oh, I remember him. Kinda cute, but anti-social, way too egotistical, and he loved to ramble on about his damned dragons.” Mirabelle remembered “Do you know anything else specific about what this parasite he described might be?”

Luna shook her head. “Unfortunately no. Farengar informed us that such things were not his field of study and he could be of little help to us, at least in an optimal amount of time.” she looked over her still trembling hand and clenched it into a fist “No, I’m afraid we don’t know any more. We were hoping that you, and your knowledge of this world’s magic, could’st be of some assistance.”

“So neither of you knows anything else about what’s causing this.” Mirabelle said and rubbed her chin with a thoughtful hum. Then she cracked a smile, her eyes opened revealing a fire of determination and curiosity within. “In that case, we’re going to need some help here.”

She then snapped her fingers, to which a group of seven other college mages appeared seemingly from the stonework.

“Hello there, allow me to introduce us all.” a balding Breton with dark rings under his eyes said and began gesturing to the others “The dunmer is Drevis Neloran, a master illusionist but a bit forgetful at times.”

“I rather like to imagine I’m not here dealing with you nitwits.” Drevis explained as he smeared on more emo makeup “I like to think I can simply… fade away.”

“Nirya is skilled in destruction magic and has a bit of a rivalry going on with our gatekeeper, Faralda. She’s a bit of a kiss-up if you’ve got something she wants, but that’s not too bad… mostly.”

Nirya turned away, clearly showing her offence, but turned back in a sideways glace with a small blush.

“Sergius Turrianus is our resident enchanter, though his work keeps him far too busy to help any of us with that.”

“I get work requests from all over Skyrim. Perhaps you should hone your own skill rather than come to me all the time.” Sergius shot back “And perhaps we should let someone else do the introductions.”

“Colette focuses mostly on restoration magic, and more time reminding us all why its great whether we want to hear it or not.”

“IT’S A LEGITAMATE SCHOOL OF MAGIC! RESOTRATION FER LIFE!”

“I see you’ve already met Mirabelle. And finally, I am Phinis Gestor-“

“The mage with the most colorful opinions in winterhold.” Mirabelle finished for him, much to his chagrin.

“Alright people!” Fenora slammed her hands onto the table “We need to fix Luna’s magic. Any suggestions?”

“We could use illusions to make her think she’s cured.” Drevis suggested.

“I can summon a being from another world to help us.” Phinis conjured up a green platypus that sat there and did nothing.

“Restoration will save you!” Colette yelled and created a giant glowing band-aid with her magic.

“OR!” Sergius interrupted “We could try using my soul gems, which are valuable by the way, to try and draw this ‘magic parasite’ out of her.”

Fenora fixed him with a hard stare, of which he casually stared back. If there were any windows in the College of Winterhold, Sergius would likely have been thrown out of it. But since there weren’t any, they’d just have to try his brilliant and logical plan instead.

Meanwhile, the platypus Phinis had summoned put on a secret agent fedora, shiftily looked around to make sure no one was watching him, and quickly made its way out of the college.

Silly changeling, Trix is a pony

The day passed by pretty quickly, yet little progress was made towards any of our heroes' goals.

The soul gem idea Surgius had didn't work quite as planned, and after a solid hour of poking Luna with several different types and yelling "Why. Isn't. It. Woooorrrrkkiiiinnnngg!" the mages had gone back to the drawing board as Sergius himself had gone off to cry in the fetal position.

While they tried to get to the root of the problem, Fenora decided to head to the archives and search for anything on dragons. What she found was a massive collection of books and their unusual librarian, an orc by the name of Urag gro-Shub. Fenora was never a heavy reader, but since "Too long; didn't read" would possibly spell death for the whole world, she had no choice but to grab some coffee and dig through the text.

As for Stross, he mostly sat out of the magic lessons being taught, it was pretty basic stuff anyway (stuff he himself didn't know, but relatively simple spells all the same). Instead he watched the others preform their spells; trying and failing, only to try again and succeed. It brought some enjoyment to him, seeing others learn and improve, that was likely what Tolfdir was talking about.

And so the day passed without further incident. But as the sun set, everyone quickly learned that if there was anything colder than the days in Winterhold, it was the nights in Winterhold. The night air alone would chill you to the nuts and put your future children in cryo sleep. Luckily, the Hall of Attainment was well equipped to handle the frigid weather and deathly cold. After a long day of rigorous studying, failed experiments, and a lot of exploded vegetables within the halls of the college, everyone was good and ready to tuck in for the night.

“Dibs on the center room!” Onmund yelled.

“No way! J’zargo had his eye on that chamber several seconds before you!” J’zargo shoved the nord out of the way.

“Boys, please.” Trixie sidestepped her way around the arguing pair “Need the Great and Powerful Trixie remind you that it is only fair to let the ladies decide on their choice of rooms first?”

“We know-ith not what this transgression be-ith about, but we wish to partake!”

“What’s going on?” Stross finally asked.

“Over here my friend.” Onmund pulled him over and pointed his head in the right direction “Look… at that beauty.”

The room itself was pretty ordinary; a single bed, a few tables, cramped with bookshelves on either side, pretty normal. However, mounted on a plaque above the bed was an expensive-looking dagger, its blade almost long enough to be considered a shortsword. It was golden in color with a red sheen around the edge of the blade, and from the soft glow it emitted, it was likely enchanted.

“So… you’re all fighting over a knife?” Stross questioned them.

“Not just a knife! A fancy glowing knife.” Fenora corrected him.

“That’s right, and since I saw it first, I should get it.” Onmund reasoned “I assure you all I’d put it to good use.”

“On the contrary, J’zargo would benefit far more from having such an obviously powerful artifact in his possession. J’zargo shall take it.”

“Hah, as if that would happen. The Great and powerful Trixie wants it more than both of you combined, so there.”

“You are the most selfish and arrogant person I’ve ever met!” Onmund yelled.

“Yes… and that should be J’zargo’s job! J’zargo has practiced his character traits for years until they reached perfection!” the Khajiit hissed.

“Then Trixie challenges the two of you to an arcane melee, winner takes the enchanted blade!” Trixie adjusted her oversized cap and glared them down, to which J’zargo and Onmund readily awaited her first move.

“Guys please, calm down.” Stross intervened. “Glowing or not, that dagger’s still just a thing. Is it really that important to you?”

The stares he received told him that yes, it was that important to them.

“So that piece of magic metal is important enough to cause you to fight your friends over?”

The continued glares from the apprentices told him not only that yes, that piece of enchanted metal really was that important, but also that their supposed friendship with each other was strenuous and situational at best.

Letting out a sigh, Stross walked over to a barrel where a multitude of empty mead bottles had been discarded. “Alright, this is how we’ll settle this.” He took out an armful of the bottles “There will be one bottle for each of us, I’ll put a pebble in one of them and then we choose. Whoever gets the pebble wins.” He explained the rules as he set the tinted containers on a table “Brelyna, are you in?”

The dark elf just waved him off and gave a barely audible whisper of “I’m okay, thanks.”

“Wait a minute, if you’re the one putting the pebble in, won’t you know which one to pick?” Fenora observed.

“It won’t matter.” Stross told her simply “Because I won’t be playing.”

This took a few of the others by surprise, but they continued to wait until Stross had set up all the bottles in a row. Once he had, he stepped to the side to let them choose. “Remember,” he said “no cheating; once you touch one, you have to take it.”

The changeling stood there and watched as one by one, the apprentices came and chose a bottle, only to give a grimace of sour disappointment when their bottle came up empty. Though it pained him a bit, he watched as even Fenora’s bottle of choice did not contain a victory.

“Well Princess, I guess you’ve got this one.” Fenora said to Luna, however Luna was not as convinced.

“I am not.” She said with an amused smirk “For even this bottle contained no pebble. None of them ever did. Isn’t that right Stross?”

The changeling smiled back and gave a nod. “Correct. Each of you would have let your want for something material overwhelm your loyalty to each other, and ignore the bonds you share as friends and colleges. From that… there can be no winner.”

“Heh, well played Stross, well played.” Fenora chuckled as she idly tossed her empty bottle in the air a few times.

“That… was the dumbest thing J’zargo has ever heard.”

“Trixie agrees!” Trixie shouted from atop the bed as she reached for the prized dagger and grabbed it by the handle. She victoriously brandished it above her head “And now this enchanted blade belongs to the Great and Pow- OW! Ooh ow ow ouch ouch ouch!”

“Hah! What happened Miss Great and Powerful; did you cut yourself?” Onmund mocked Trixie’s supposed clumsiness.

“Trixie did no such thing!” she snapped back “It was that stupid dagger, it stung me!”

J’zargo raised a curious brow and walked over to where the dagger had clattered to the stone floor while Trixie continued to nurse her injured hand.

“Well don’t pick it up!” Stross shouted before J’zargo could get his furry mitts on the knife. “Hold on a sec, just… excuse me here, coming through. Got an idea.” And Stross did have an idea, channeling magic through his horn, he safely picked up the dagger using telekinesis, quickly and tightly wrapping it in a nearby sheet and hoping it would be enough to stop anyone else from getting hurt with it.

“Alright, that should work for now. Do you need any help Trixie?” he asked the wounded mage.

“Trixie doesn’t need your help, changeling.” she responded gruffly before shoving her way past him, still gripping her bleeding hand.

“Okay then... I’m going to see if any of the teachers are still awake. They’ll probably know what to do with this thing. The rest of you should probably get some sleep; Tolfdir said there was something he was going to show us tomorrow, some kind of field trip.” Stross told them before leaving via the main exit doors.

Onmund and J’zargo gave an agreement of sorts and headed off to sleep. Fenora found an unoccupied bed, threw herself face first into the pillow and went into a deep sleep within moments, leaving only Luna and Brelyna awake in the Hall.

“Ssoooo…” Brelyna said as curiosity overcame her usual shyness and she scooted her chair closer to Luna “You’re a Princess from this other world we’ve heard about?”

“Indeed.” Luna responded slowly, meanwhile eyeing the dunmer up and down, searching for any tell-tale signs of her being a potential stalker or molester, as were apparently so common in Skyrim.

“Tell me everything!” Brelyna pulled out a notepad.

“Oh…” thought Luna “You must be this world’s Twilight Sparkle.” She then thought on it a little longer “Interesting.”

Considering how he was in the possession of a clearly dangerous magical weapon, by all common sense Stross would have gone straight to Mirabelle, or for that matter, any other teacher he could find. But at this moment as he stood wandering out into the frigid night air, there was something much more powerful tugging at his attention.

“Where did she go?” Stross muttered to himself as he scanned the courtyard, focusing his senses and straining his ears against the wind.

Then, Stross picked something with his life-sense. It was definitely Trixie’s life-force; no one else’s had that particular kind of… unpleasant flavor. It was hard to pick out among the magical energies surrounding the very foundation of the college, not to mention the other living beings present in the area, but it was definitely there.

The changeling quickly tried to find it. After going through a few doors and getting turned around by the staircases he finally found her. Trixie was sitting huddled in a corner behind the stairs, pouring a healing potion onto her hand to no effect. It was clear she’d been trying to heal herself for a while, as evidenced by the four other empty flasks littering the floor near her.

It wasn’t until Stross was only a few feet away that she took notice of him. “What do you want, changeling?” she said with a disdainful glare.

“You’re hurt.” Stross answered “I wanted to help you.”

“And I already told you, I don’t need your help.” Trixie said and vigorously rubbed the pain induced tears off with her sleeve “Now go away! You don’t belong here!”

Stross took a step forward and knelt down to eye level with her. “Why do you hate me?”

This only made Trixie’s frown intensify. “Why shouldn’t I? I know what you are, you monster. I know what your kind do, and about how you attacked Canterlot!”

“Wait… she’s…”

“You’re from Equestria too.”

Trixie ripped the hat from her head, revealing a light blue horn protruding from her forehead. “Yes, Trixie is from Equestria as well. Trixie came here by accident, and it was the best thing to happen to her! Nopony knew of Trixie or her humiliating failures. What’s more, their magic is so simple and barbaric; Trixie could dazzle them with even the simplest of performances. I finally had a chance to be great and powerful!”

“That is…” Trixie paused and clenched her fist, staining it with blood that continued to seep from the gash on her palm. “That is until my magic stopped working. One day it just stopped, and I couldn’t get it to work anymore! I came here seeking answers… and then I run into you.”

Her tone suddenly became much more accusing as she stood up and towered over Stross. “Why are you here anyway? And why is Princess Luna of all ponies with you? Is she even real? Are you some sort of spy!?” Trixie paused as a realization hit her. She immediately grabbed the cowering changeling and put his neck in a kung-fu death-grip “Are you the reason my magic is gone?” she said in a frighteningly even tone.

“No! No that’s not- I don’t do that anymore!” Stross choked out as he struggled against Trixie’s grasp “I came here on accident too! Dragons are coming back to destroy the world and I’m trying to help Fen stop them. Luna came because she thought I was evil, but now we’re friends and she’s helping us too! But her magic is failing like yours and we came here to find way to cure her just like you’re trying to do.”

“Please stop strangling me.” he added.

Trixie did relax her grip a bit, but only because her mind had to process the story she had been told. “And why should Trixie believe you?” she asked, her gaze as hard as ever.

Stross closed his eyes and moved his hand up to hers, gently and cautiously removing it from his neck. “Because…” he began as he brought his other hand over the bleeding gash on her palm. A soft golden light flowed forth, filling the wound and quickly mending the flesh until it seemed it was never there. “I’m not evil... and I’m tired of people hating and fearing me. I just want to help.”

Technically, Trixie’s other hand had been relaxed for quite some time now, but Stross still felt better when she took it off his neck. She felt the area where her hand was once hurt beyond the help of common potions, a look of wonder on her face.

“Thanks.” She said in barely a whisper to the changeling sitting on the floor. However she then shook her head and quickly put on a scowl. “But this still doesn’t mean Trixie trusts you.” she told him coldly as she stomped off.

“Well… that’s better than wanting me dead at least.” Stross thought as he pulled himself off the cold stone.

However, being a changeling and all, Stross managed to catch a glimpse of Trixie’s aura before she slammed the door to the outside, and he was pleased to see it was slightly warmer than before; it was still cold mind you, but not quite as… bitter.

“You know, there may just be hope for anyone.”

Ancient history is fun... and by fun I mean depressing.

“Alright, let’s see here; Notebooks, charcoal pencils, leather strips, a few healing and magika potions for emergencies…” Stross started to list off the plethora of items he’d laid out on the table, ranging from potions and bottled water to emergency supplies and alchemy reagents. Next to them was the small knapsack he planned to stuff it all into, plus a few small pouches to bring back any souvenirs.

“You can’t be serious.” Onmund walked over, adjusting the new robes he’d gotten from the college, just as the others had “All that for a simple field trip?”

“It never hurts to be prepared.” Stross shrugged and continued checking his inventory. “And that reminds me, spare robe.”

“J’zargo believes the bug has the correct idea. However, those bags will be much too full to carry back any valuable treasure.” J’zargo said as he folded a giant sack and stuffed it into his shirt.

“J’zargo, this field trip is to learn about the ancient Nordic ruins and the magic powers hidden within them. It’s not a treasure hunt.” Brelyna scolded him.

Before they could start arguing, Tolfdir descended the staircase and called to them. “Alright then everyone, if you are all ready, the ruins of Sarthaal await us to the southwest. Onward!” And with that he practically skipped out the door.

Stross was walking through the courtyard with the others, almost to the bridge when he realized that they were missing one of their group, a difficult task indeed considering the flowing star-pattered apparel she always wore.

“Hey, what happened to Trixie?” he asked, looking around.

“She decided to stay behind during this expedition; something about experiments of inner magic with Princess Luna.” Tolfdir told him “As for your Dragonborn companion, she said she would be in our library researching the history of the ancient dragon war.”

Stross slowed his pace for a moment, and finally came to a stop. “You guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up in a minute!” he called as they reached the bridge. He didn’t bother to see if they heard him or not, and made for the hall of elements. Once inside, he caught a glimpse of Mirabelle and a group of other mages gathered around Luna and Trixie, most were working with alchemy reagents and drawing intricate chalk circles around the two, while others were preparing various wards.

“Alright!” one of the mages yelled “Now we try this again! Just balance those plates of oranges on your heads like so. And, three… two… one…”

A large gooey explosion rocked the floor as Stross descended the stairs.

“Well everyone, looks like this myth is… Busted.” Mirabelle concluded.

“Are you people even scientists!?” Luna yelled.

The college library was little more than a dimly lit basement lined wall to wall with shelves full of dusty and musty tomes from ages past; it was mostly decrepit and its collection far from complete, and yet it was still the best place to find information about anything… assuming it happened a long time ago at least. In a literal sense, everything was silent save for the shallow footsteps of the librarian and custodian as he walked through the shelves and put the frayed and crumbling books back in their proper places, but you could still feel the deafening sound of pure concentration as Fenora sat at a desk in the center of the room, reading through book after book like she had been since the early hours of the morning.

She closed another of the larger tomes and set it atop the growing stack beside her with a frustrated sigh. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else here on the dragons?” she asked gro-Shub as he passed by to collect the stack.

“This here is all the books we have on the late Mereithic  era.” the orc told her in his gruff voice “If you’re looking for anything on dragons, you could also check our section on myths and legends.”

“Yeah right. When did that ever save the world?” Fenora groaned and glumly face-planted onto the desk and buried her head in her arms.

“Hey Fen,” came a soothingly scratchy voice as something poked her shoulder “any luck?”

Fenora rolled her head around and gave Stross as much of a smile as she could muster. “Not much. There isn’t really anything more than what we already know. Alduin led the dragons in a genocidal campaign against humanity, Paarthunax and a few others joined the fight on the humans’ side, they taught them how to use the thu’um and then they won. But what it doesn’t say is how!” she lightly pounded her fist on the desk.

Fenora sat up and rubbed her eyes. “There are all these stories about the great battles, and what cities got burned to the ground, and how many brave warriors heroically gave their lives to slay even a few of the big bad dragons, but it never gives specifics! It never says what weapons they used, what tactics they tried, what did and didn’t work. It never even tells how Alduin was beaten in the first place!” Fenora let out a tired sigh “What, did they throw bricks at his face until he ran home to mommy?”

The sudden laughter beside her immediately brought some light back to Fenora’s world.

“Hey, maybe Akatosh came down from the heavens all like ‘Now son, what have I told you about wreaking havoc on the mortals? You’re grounded for the next millennia’.”Stross joked in a boisterous tone “And no more worlds for dessert for a whole week. When your mother hears about this she’ll spank you until half your butt scales turn from black to red. We can play checkers with the ones that peel off.”

The two of them howled with laughter, wiping moisture from their eyes and holding each other up as their sides began to burn. Any wasted time or effort Fenora had put in was entirely forgotten as they shared a well-deserved moment of joy.

“Thanks Stross.” Fenora pulled him into a hug once their laughter finally died off.

“You’re welcome.” Stross hugged her back, a blush crossing his face.

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do now.” She pulled away from him and stared pacing across the room “I’ve read through every book on the subject that they have, most of them were only a few pages long!”

“I don’t write the books, I just maintain them.” gro-Shub casually chimed in.

“What about that one about old legends?” Stross asked “They had to have come from somewhere right?”

“I guess.” Fenora hummed “I’ll check it out and read it later. How’s Luna doing with those crazy mages?”

“Well…” Stross shifted his eyes to the door and another explosion rocked the ceiling, causing another collection of dust to sprinkle down on the room. “Yeah.”

“I might as well see if I can help, Luna’s magic would probably help us more than any old legend will.” Fenora said as she shoved the book into her bag and headed for the exit, “You wanna come too?”

“Maybe later,” Stross told her “I’m meeting Tolfdir and the others at Sarthaal for… something. Anything you want me to pick up on the way back through town?”

“Alcoholic beverages. Any variety, and lots of it. And something good to eat too; the conjured food here tastes like tree bark.”

Stross made a mental note as they reached the courtyard. But before he could set off to catch up with the others, Fenora stopped him.

“Hey Stross… there’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She told him, waiting until he turned around to fully face her “After this is over, the whole saving the world from dragons thing… you weren’t ever planning on going back to Equestria, were you?”

Stross paused and looked at the ground a moment. “Only if I had no other choice.” He told her the honest truth “No matter what Princess Luna says, there’s nothing but pain waiting for me there, pain and… bad memories.”

Despite the sad tone of Stross’s answer, Fenora’s expression became a bit brighter upon hearing it. “Then would you come to High Rock, and live with me? The farm isn’t much to look at, and I have to travel quite a bit for the plants I grow there, but I’d love to have you around if you’re okay with that.”

She didn’t notice that in those few short words, Stross had gotten inches from her face. “Can we get married?” he said, grinning ear to ear.

Fenora was seriously taken off guard by the changeling’s abruptness, but managed to recover. She smiled and cupped his cheek in her palm. “First things first, Stross. Help me save the world, and ask me again.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and left for the Hall of Elements.

Stross just stood there for a moment, frozen by something other than the cold for a change. He turned around and dashed out of the college gate with a leap of victory, filled with more hope and excitement than anyone had ever been after being told they had to save the world in order to get hitched.

After a few minutes of trekking through town, past the Jarl’s longhouse, and up a snowy mountain, nearly getting mauled by sabercats and goats along the way, Stross found his way to a shallow gorge that housed the entrance to Sarthaal. With the surrounding mountains blocking a good amount of wind, and the excavation scaffolding providing a secondary barrier, the immediate area next to the ancient doors was a good enough place to set up camp, if you didn’t mind the cold that is. The apprentice mages had set of a campfire and were roasting marshmallows while Tolfdir told them the lore behind the ruin.

“Oh hey Stross, you’re finally here.” Onmund greeted him.

“About time.” J’zargo added.

“I saved you some marshmallows.” Brelyna handed him a few of the sticky confections skewered on a stick, giggling at how he noisily scarfed them down.

“As I was explaining just before you showed up, Sarthaal was one of the first Nordic settlements on the continent of Tamriel.” Tolfdir continued his story with much enthusiasm and hand gestures “It was here that they befriended the local snow-elves, and built this once great city together. But then, for reasons unknown even to this day, the snow-elves attack the city, slaughtering those they once considered their friends and allies. Few survived this event, which would become infamously known as the Night of tears.”

“That sounds dreadful.” Brelyna commented “I hate to think my own ancient ancestors would do something like that, to their friends none the less.”

“Haven’t elves always thought they were better than everyone else, believing they could do as they please without consequence?” Onmund asked bitterly.

Brelyna was about to counter, but Stross interrupted “If it makes you feel better, one of the survivors of that night was Ysgramor, the founder of the Companions himself. He came back with the five-hundred and vowed to commit genocide against all elf kind for the massacre at Sarthaal.”

Both of them stared back in shock.

“I met the new Companions in Whiterun. The older ones like Vignar won’t shut up about it.” Stoss explained.

“Th- that… that doesn’t make me feel better at all!” Onmund struggled to get the words out. "That makes us nords just as bad as the elves if not worse!"

“Then don’t follow by their example. If you feel distain for something or someone, don’t use violence as a means to an end, and don’t use revenge or anger as justification for said violence.” Stross told him and breathed a sigh. “Sorry, species-wide vendettas kind of strike a chord with me. It’s just… it doesn’t do anyone any good to hold grudges for things long past. I wish my own race could accept that.”

Onmund nodded, realizing Stross was right. “Brelyna... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have held anything against you, you’re not to blame for what elves everywhere else do, especially in the distant past.”

“I’m sorry too. Friends?” Brelyna held her hand out.

“Indeed.” Onmund shook it.

Tolfdir gave a small round of applause. “That was very nice, the world’s leaders could learn something  from you two. Now then, who’s ready to explore an ancient ruin?”

Stross held back for a moment as the others entered the old metal doors. He looked over the crumbling walls and old weathered carvings for a moment, taking in the gravity of the story behind them, and taking a moment of silence for those who died and all that was lost; the city, the alliance between men and mer… and any peace or trust between the two races for untold generations to come.

“Well,” Stross said to himself “if I ever wanted to travel through time to change history for the better, at least I know where to come back to.”

The world froze for a fraction of a second. “We already tried.” An echoy voice rang out through the time-locked landscape. “The peace resulted in a world far worse than what was brought by centuries of hatred.”

“Gah! What the- who are you?” Stross whipped around as his surroundings returned to normal and the snowflakes fell again. “Hello?” Stross breathed as he frantically scanned the cliffs and hills for any sign of life.

Upon finding none, he slowly and cautiously made his way to the entrance of Sarthaal to catch up with the others.

Once inside the ruin, or at least the part that was properly excavated and held together with enough scaffolding and supports to keep it from collapsing, Stross found the others receiving tasks from Tolfdir.

“Brelyna my dear, why don't you search for any warding magics. Anything designed to keep people out. Be sure not to interact with them, just identify them.”

Brelyna did as she was instructed, begining her sweep from one corner of the chamber and cautiously making her way to the other side, occasionally bumping into some of the scaffolding.

“Onmund, if you would please search that area over there. See if you notice any... residual energies; alive or undead.”

Onmund rolled his eyes, but searched some old sarcophagi, likely still holding their preserved corpses. On the way he muttered something about being disrespectful towards the dead, and how he wondered if draugr coming back to life was just their way of saying they don’t like graverobbers.

"J'zargo… hmm, what shall we have you do? Ah, I know! Why don't you verify that we're the first ones here? Look for any amount of tampering with the tombs.”

“You mean besides J’zargo’s own?” J’zargo asked with a cheeky grin.

“Yes J’zargo, besides your own.” Tolfdir deadpanned “Oh, and here comes the little peacemaker himself.” Tolfdir greeted Stross with a pat on the back “I have a special assignment for you.”

“Really?” Stross perked up.

“Well, if by 'special assignment' you mean 'go assist one of my rather irritable collegues so that I won’t have to deal with him myself' then yes.” Tolfdir quickly explained that Stross was to be his scapegoat “Arniel Gane is in the chamber just down this hallway, he’s very particular and won’t let anyone help him for fear they’ll mess up his work; he even sent the last two people who tried to help him running home in tears. But don’t let that discourage you, go on in and give him a hand.”

After a friendly shove in the right direction, followed by quite a bit of stumbling and finding his way through a winding section of runed stalagmites, Stross found himself introduced Arniel, or rather… Arniel’s back. “Mage apprentice Stross, reporting for duty Mister Gane.” He gave a salute as he stood at attention.

“Oh great, another one.” Arniel said in an irritable tone “Why doesn’t anyone liste- look, just… uh, go over there and look for artifacts or something and bring them back to me.” he offhandedly gestured to a few adjacent rooms, not even bothering to look up from his own work.

“Yes sir, sir-dy-sir sir sir.” Stross aluted again and marched off.

“And don’t break anything while you’re in there, I’ve only sifted through a portion of this area!” Arniel shouted after him and mumbled something about useless rookies and spiders.

So as it turned out, the set of rooms Stross was meant to search were a collection of small alcoves and perhaps what was once a small storehouse. He quickly scanned them and easily found a few small rings laying amongst the shattered debris of some ancient pots and crumbled bits of wall, but the last room gave him pause. It was a pretty small area with only three objects of any real interest: a window out into the rest of the excavation site, through which he could hear the others complaining about their boring assignments, a creepy statue embedded in the wall, and a mysterious glowing amulet resting on a small pedestal across from it.

“O-kay?” Stross eyed the ancient looking pendent “I get the feeling something bad will happen if I try to move you. Hey Arneil! Mister Gane, sir? I think you should look at this.” he called, only to receive a mumbled dismissal in response.

Stross squinted at the amulet then looked around him, first at the statue behind him, then everywhere else, finally landing on the small round holes in the floor beside him.

“A-hah! Classic traps in Skyrim. As soon as I take this amulet, spikes will shoot out from the floor and trap me in here for who knows how long!” he expertly deduced “Well it’s not going to work on this changeling; I’ll just step over here, safely out of the room and grab it with my magic.”

Stross gave a confident smirk as he did just that, taking the glowing amulet safely into his claws.

To his surprise though, the floor spikes did not activate. Instead a glowing mass of ethereal tentacles shoot out of the statue and ensnared him, dragging him back into the room.

“Waahh! Lemme go!” he screamed. At that moment the floor spikes activated, creating a barrier that closed off the room like a cage. “Oh come on!”

“Is everything alright in here?” Tolfdir asked as he appeared on the other side of the bars with the apprentice mages “We heard what sounded like a rampaging wombat fighting a koala.”

“Everything is NOT alright! I’ve seen enough anime to know where this is going! They're getting in all of my holes!” Stross yelled as he struggled against the magic tendrils working their way into his arms and legs “Take it back!” he shoved the amulet into the glowing mass “I don’t want it anymore!”

As though the artifact could hear his plea, the statue exploded into rubble the second the amulet made contact, releasing him and lowering the bars as well.

“Stross, are you okay?” Brelyna rushed to help him up.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” Stoss said as he sat up “Still, what the heck was tha-“

“WHAT IN OBLIVION WAS THAT!?” Arneil screamed as he rushed in to the room, clearly worried more about the damage to the dig site than any of the apprentices “What happened to this priceless artifact?” he whimpered as he held a couple chunks of the statue in his hands. "I named it Steve."

“It wasn’t me!” Stross quickly defended. “That stupid rock brought it on itself.”

“Never mind the damage Arneil, look… look.” Tolfdir said in breathless wonder “This newly uncovered passage seems to lead to the catacombs, or perhaps some sort of ritual chamber.”

“Fine then, if you’re so excited about it, then you can go take a look. I’m going to find some glue.” Arniel stomped off.

"You heard him students, adventure and discovery awaits! Take caution, and let us proceed." Tolfdir said and led the way down the narrow tunnel in the rock, into the darkness of Sarthaal and towards the unknown.

Dead people are dicks!

“This is simply fascinating.” Tolfdir said for the tenth time since the five of them had set off down the tunnels. “What I can’t understand is why this area would be sealed off, and I’ve never seen anything like this in Nordic ruins before; I mean just look at all these coffins!” he gestured to the numerous metal boxes that lined the walls of the circular chamber.

“You haven’t been into a lot of Nordic ruins, have you?” Onmund said with an incredulous stare.

“Too right.” Stross added “Every one that Fen and I went into were full of zombie- err… draugr, that tried to hack us to pieces.”

Suddenly the world went still and a familiar green glow froze everyone and everything. A man in white and red robes appeared in front of Stross and spoke in a cryptic tone. “Hold mage, and listen well. Know that you have set into motion a chain of-“

“WAAAAHHHH!” Stross screamed like a girl as he flung a barrage of fireballs at the ghostly entity. Each of the five flaming orbs passed straight through the man and impacted on the far wall behind him.

“Are you done?” he said calmly with a brow raised.

“Yeah, I’m good now. Who are you?”

“Who I am is not important. What you must know is that you have set in motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped.” He explained “As none of this was your fault, judgment has not been passed; you had no way of knowing. However, judgment will be passed on your actions to come, and how you deal with the dangers and trials ahead of you.”

“What do you mean? What trials?” Stross questioned, desperately wanting to know more about this odd turn of events.

“That is not for us to tell you. You changeling, and you alone, have the potential to prevent disaster. Take great care; know that the fate of many rests with you. The Psijic Order will be watching, and for what it is worth, we believe in you.” he said before fading away, however as Stross was pondering what he meant he reappeared momentarily to give one last heads up. “Oh and… Tolfdir is about to do something stupid.”

“Perhaps we should get these coffins open.” Tolfdir’s voice rang out as the world went back into motion.

“What!? Nnnnnooooo!” Stross dove forward and shoved Tolfdir out of the way, right as a lid of solid metal would have crushed him.

“Gaaz dilon mel ish!” the draugr wretched through its rotting throat as it stepped out of its tomb and raised an axe. At that instant, every other coffin in the room burst open, their lids falling with loud clangs and their occupants shambling out, raising vicious looking weapons of their own.

The apprentices rushed away from the draugr and stood back to back, readying their spells to fight for their lives against the horde of undead.

“This is why we don’t disturb the dead!” Onmund shouted.

“Back through the tunnels! We need to get out of… here.” Brelyna finished dejectedly as she watched a pair of the draugr collapse the entrance, trapping them inside.

Suddenly a spear of flame pierced through one of the draugr slowly surrounding them, reducing it to ashes, and the one standing beside it soon followed.

“We need to go deeper in! Run!” Stross yelled to them as he threw a third spear and ran for the door leading deeper into the catacombs with Tolfdir.

Outnumbered and with more draugr dropping down from the ceiling, the apprentices saw little alternative and quickly followed.

Deeper and deeper into the depths they fled, more and more draugr rising from their crypts and crawling from the crevices in the walls to join the chase. Every corner they rounded, another of the undead warriors would block their way only to get shoved aside in a panic or hit with one of Stross's spears. Tolfdir attempted to slow the progress of their undead pursuers by collapsing a rickety staircase behind them, yet the corpses simply piled atop one another in an improvised ladder, and soon they would reach the ledge.

“We can’t keep this up forever.” Onmund said as he gasped for breath “There are too many of them.”

“Gah! Unhand me you decomposing filth!” J’zargo spat as he wrestled to get his arm free from a recently disturbed draugr.

Onmund quickly grabbed a metal brazier off the wall and rushed to aid the Kah’jiit. “Hold on J’zargo, I’ve got you. Ancestors forgive me…” he said as he rammed the pointed end of the torch through the draugr’s head, splattering rotting blood everywhere.

“Th-thank you.” J’zargo breathed heavily “That damnable thing refused to part with its treasure.” He held up a gold ring, admiring it for a second before tossing it in a bulging satchel with the many other treasures he’d taken as they ran.

Onmund stared at him for a second before exploding in a fit of righteous anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Even as we run for our lives, all you can think about is how you can profit by robbing the dead!?”

“Hmph, they certainly won’t need it.” J’zargo retorted.

“Boys! Bigger problems!” Brelyna snapped them out of it and drew their attention back to the draugr, which had finally climbed up to them.

“Run... again!” Stross yelled to them as he shot down a large urn hanging from the ceiling. To their fortune, it was indeed filled with oil like he’d hoped. Set ablaze, it caught the horde on fire and slowed them from a lumbering march to a smoldering stumble.

“Oh great. Now what?” Stross heard one of his friends curse from down a narrow hallway.

“This looks to be one of the ancient Nordic puzzles that these kind of tombs are so famous for.” Tolfdir explained as the changeling caught up to them “They were designed to ward off grave robbers… as well as contain the dead within should they ever rise. We’ll have to solve it if we wish to continue forward, and I suggest we hurry.” he said grimly as the footsteps behind them grew louder.

“Oh fuck that. Move.” Stross commanded and marched up to the metal gate impeding their escape.

Rather than try to solve the puzzle to raise the gate, he’d go right through it. He focused his magic into a flame again, condensing it into a small molten blade. Using this tool he began cutting through the bars one by one.

It was taking longer than he thought it would, ancient nord steel was tough after all, and about halfway through the gate one of the pursuing draugr rounded the corner to face them.

A spike of solid ice pierced its torso, sending it staggering back. “Keep going!” Tolfdir yelled as he finished off the weakened draugr with another spike.

As Stross reached the last two bars, three more of the corpses had come at them, the last falling not a foot from where they stood with their backs to a wall. Stross poured on the heat, overcharging his spell to cut through the last bit of metal.

Finally the door was severed and fell to the floor.

“It’s… It’s open!” Stross said as he stumbled through the opening, the others quickly following his lead. He turned around and tried to heft the metal slab back into place, though he was exhausted and his arms and legs felt unusually weak. “Help me get this back up. Hurry!”

Onmund and J’zargo got on either side, and the three of them were easily able to lift the gate back into place. Not a moment too soon either, as the rest of the horde had caught up to them and several were already shoving at the gate.

“Tolfdir… cold!” Stross yelled.

With years of experience as a mage, Tolfdir immediately knew what Stross meant. Using his frost magic he cooled the still molten metal, smelting the door back into place, albeit at an odd angle. Everyone fell back and caught their breath, finally able to relax with their pursuers trapped behind a wall of decorative steel bars.

“Can we please get out of this place now?” Brelyna said, almost on the brink of tears as she helped the others to their feet.

“Indeed, I believe we’ve all had enough adventure for one day.” Tolfdir agreed as he led them forward “It seems this is the only way out.” he said as he opened a large metal door.

“I don’t like this, it feels wrong in here.” Stross told them, clinging to Brelyna’s shoulder in order to keep standing as the exhausted group walked into the large room softly pulsating with a blue light from further in.

“Well would you look at that?” Tolfdir gazed in astonishment at the room’s massive centerpiece, and the source of the blue light.

A giant ball of what appeared to be stone sat within a field of blue magical energy, and four pillars surrounded it as it filled the entire chamber with its eerie glow. Runes and leylines were carved all across its surface, pulsating energy through the words of some long forgotten language.

But none of that was too important, because there was another big hulking baddie to worry about!

A rasping snarl grabbed everyone’s attention, and whipping around in surprise or slowly turning in dread, each of them saw what lurked behind them.

Sitting in a throne facing the mystyrious orb, was a draugr larger than any that had chased them through the catacombs. Adorned in heavy plates of metal and a helmet in the shape of a snarling dragons head, it rose and stepped forward, imposing its terrifying presence upon the entire room as it raised a massive axe in one hand and a giant shield in the other. It took a battle stance and banged its shield as an issue of challenge to those intruding into its domain.

“Okay guys… it’s just one. We can take him.” Onmund said to them, unsure of his words himself.

Stross knew everyone was scared, and with good reason. After all, if Bleak-falls and Ustengrav were any indication of how things worked, the final draugr encountered in the tombs was also the most powerful.

“Fus-“

“Oh Celestia, why’d I have to be right?”

“RO-DAH!” the draugr bellowed, its thu’um shaking the room and knocking everyone to the floor. It followed this up by leaping forward with tremendous speed and swinging its axe in a wide arc. Those caught within range barely had time to get out of the way.

“Keep away from it students, it’s too dangerous to fight head on!” Tolfdir ordered as he fired a pair of ice spikes. The spikes impacted and shattered on the draugr deathlord’s armor, leaving superficial damage at best. Unfazed, it homed in on its nearest target, which happened to be J’zargo.

The Kah’jiit held his ground and fired bolts of lightning at the drauger as it approached. But this did little other than make it flinch and soon it was practically standing on J’zargo’s feet.

But despite this, J’zargo smirked. “Try this on for size.” He said and unleashed a magic palm strike into the draugr’s armored face. J’zargo kept his cocky grin for a second longer before being replaced with a snarl when he realized his paralyzing spell had no effect as well.

The draugr raised its shield and bashed the kah'jiit away, sending him sprawling on the ground.

“Very well then. J’zargo has made a new spell of his own design for just such an occasion!” he got back up and whipped out a scroll. As soon as he read the incantation sketched upon it, J’zargo was coated in a blazing light not unlike Stross’s burning halo. “Behond J’zargo’s undead-slaying explosive flame cloak! Come at J’zargo, brethren!”

The deathlord was more than happy to oblige and charged forward to cleave the kah’jiit a new one, but as soon as it got near, both it and J’zargo erupted in a blast of smoke and fire. The explosion sent the draugr staggering back, and J’zargo flying across the room where he landed on a pile of burial urns, very much unconscious.

The draugr stared for a second and shrugged. With one trespasser down for the count, it turned and raised its axe to face its next opponent.

“I’m not afraid of you!” Onmund yelled and stood at the ready with a sword he’d managed to find, trembling slightly as the deathlord stalked towards him, standing nearly two heads taller.

“Zun- HAAL-VIIK!” the draugr shouted the thu’um of disarming, and Onmund’s weapon was ripped from his hand by the unseen force.

“Oh shit.” Onmund started to back down and looked for anywhere to run as the deathlord raised its axe.

“NO!”

Suddenly the draugr was caught in a frozen gale, ice began to form on its rotting skin and it turned away from Onmund to face its new challenger.

“You shall not harm my students, monster!” Tolfdir fixed it with a glare.

“Bolog aaz, mal lir!” the draugr shouted and brought its axe down hard on Tolfdir. But instead of rending him in two, the balde harmlessly deflected off of his arm with a metallic clang.

Tolfdir smirked and rolled up his sleeves, revealing that the skin on his arms had turned to solid metal. “Iron flesh, bitch!” he said before slamming a punch into the draugr’s jaw with a satisfying crack.

He quickly followed it up with an uppercut and a series of bone-breaking jabs to the deathlord’s ribs. The ancient leather that bound the armor together couldn't handle the snap-freezing temperature, and many of the heavy plates fell off. With its newfound mobility, the draugr immediately tried to swat Tolfdir away with its massive shield, followed by an attempt to split him in half with its axe again, but the elderly wizard was able to backstep and weave around for another round of punching, each blow imparting a bit of magic that froze solid any flesh it hit.

One final uppercut and the deathlord fell to the floor, flat on its back as Tolfdir’s iron flesh wore off.

“Hmpf, that’s that. Is everyone alright?” Tolfdir said as he allowed himself to brethe normally again.

“Behind you!” Stross yelled, trying and failing to conjure another flame spear.

Tolfdir spun around, but too late. The deathlord radiated with the same cold glow as the giant orb, with its frozen flesh and damaged structure magically restored from the savage beating, it now loomed over him. Off his guard and without even a second to react or defend himself, the deathlord easily crushed him into the floor with its shield.

The old mage let out a strangled gasp to accompany the sound of snapping bones, and could only lay there helplessly as the draugr left its shield on top of him, pinning him to the ground as it turned its attention to Brelyna.

“Get away!” the dark elf screamed, letting loose a cone of fire as she tried to maintain her distance from the hulking monstrosity.

The flames licked at the draugr’s skin, but with the orb restoring it, fire did little to stop its approach as it stomped ever closer to her. Backed into a corner and with her magika finally depleted, Brelyna could only cower as the deathlord raised its axe over its head. She shut her eyes tight and waited for the killing blow.

There was a woosh as the axe carved through the air, a sickening crunch as the blade cleaved through flash and bone, and a squelch of blood that reduced to a slow drip seconds after. Yet Brelyna felt no pain, opening her eyes… she found the reason why.

“St- Stross? Stross, oh by the gods…” Brelyna managed to gasp out at what she saw.

Before her was the changeling she’d met and befriended just yesterday, and he had thrown himself in front of an axe to save her. A sickly black substance flowed steadily out of the horrendous wound carved through his torso, all the way from his right shoulder to where the axe finally came to a rest just shy of his abdomen. The huge bleeding chasm nearly separated his arm and lung cavity from the rest of his body entirely.

The draugr tried to rip its axe out, but it was lodged too deeply.

The changeling coughed up another mouthful of the sticky black substance as he tried to say something. He attempted to summon enough energy for a spell, but what little came flickered out.

As a last resort, Stross pulled the enchanted dagger from his bag, suddenly quite grateful that he’d not yet turned it over. Grasping with his functioning arm despite the enchantment on the blade carving into his palm he rammed it straight into the draugr’s throat.

Retching in surprise, the deathlord grasped the handle of its axe and flung Stross across the room along with its weapon. With a moment to spare it ripped the dagger from its throat so it could be healed by the orb. Whether the blade sensed a hand other than that of its chosen wielder, or if the two magics simply didn't mix, the dagger's enchantment lashed out and tore the draugr's hand off as soon as it began to heal, leaving a gnarled stump in its place.

Seeing an opportunity, Stross crawled his way over to where the blade had fallen, feeling his legs go numb as a trail of blood marked his path.

The deathlord wasn't about to allow anything however, and as soon as Stross's fingers had wrapped around the handle, it grabbed him by the throat with its remaining hand, squeezing and crunching the changeling's neck scales within its fist.

"Oh no you don't! Suck on that!" Onmund roared as he drove the sword of ancient steel into the draugr's spine. Whatever magic had been healing the deathlord had already been counteracted by the enchanted dagger. Susceptible to injury and now crippled, it toppled to the ground.

"Yol- TOR-SHUUL!" it bellowed and a wave of flame washed over Onmund.

On fire, Onmund screamed and dropped on the floor, rolling around attempting to smother the flames.

Stross made full use of the chance his friend gave him, knowing he had to finish it now. Gripping the dagger, he crawled his way over to the prone undead and began stabbing into the deathlord over and over, despite the further injury he was causing himself from the mere back and forth of the stabbling motion.

Finally the deathlord went limp and the blue light faded from its eyes.

If Stross wasn't spent before, he certainly was now. His body broken and his energy reserves depleted from all the spells he'd used, he couldn't even see straight. Brelyna immediately ran to help him in any way she could when he collapsed sideways onto the hard ground. As Onmund patted out the last embers on his cloak and went to heave the shield off of Tolfdir, the dunmer looked Stross over, afraid to even touch him for fear of harming him more.

“Stross… oh gods. You- you’re- oh gods what am I supposed to do? This is- I can’t- there’s no way I can fix this.” She sobbed, having quite a panic attack over just what she was supposed to do until Stross weakly grabbed hold of her.

“My bag.” He gurgled “Potions… and bandages. Help the others first… get them… back to the college. I’ll be fine.” he managed to say before spewing another mouthful of blood into the air.

“Stross! No, stay with me. Stay w… m…” he heard Brelyna shout as the world started to go black and his hearing began to fade “...ou can’t die… please don… …st hold on… …ve you.”

None of what he could still hear made any kind of sense to him at that point, but it all felt so soothingly warm and comforting. “Goodnight Fen.” He thought to himself as his world faded away into darkness.

Revelations and the missing students

It was a very busy day in the Ponyville market, ponies from all over the town had gathered before a stall near the road that led to the Apple family’s farm. Applejack herself was working the stall, and that meant dealing with over three dozen ponies at once, all of them anxiously awaiting the new concoction that the famous apple farmers had come up with.

“Settle down y’all, we’ll be with ya in just a minute!” Applejack called out to the crowd. “Applebloom,” she ducked behind the stall to find her sister “Are them boys ready or what?”

“In a minute sis, they’re arguing again.” Applebloom told her.

“It needs more spice!”

“No, it needs more lemon shavings!”

“Hey!” Applejack stomped in and interrupted the pair of arguing unicorns “If y’all don’t get this stuff ready right quick, ponies are gonna leave ‘fore we can sell it to them. Now ah know that you and yer friends are in a spot right now, but ah trusted you to actually do something with all them apples. Now ah’m sure whatever you decide to do will be just fine, as long as ya’ agree on it and quit wastin’ time. Okay?”

“Of course Applejack.”

“We’ll have it out in just a minute AJ.”

Applejack gave a smile and a nod before leaving them to it. She needed to keep the ponies outside from losing interest anyway.

It was a strange day indeed when she found the four of them scattered around her farm, they obviously meant no harm, but they were just so… off; the way they spoke, the way they stumbled around like they didn’t know how to walk, and the way they screamed when they heard her talk.  All of them said they were mages, and had no idea where they were, so she let them stay with her family at the farm while they got their bearings.

The unicorn brothers Brovir and Rundi were trying to create something they called "mead". Applejack had assumed it was some form of tea when they said they brewed it, so when they finally said they’d finished it she just had to open a stand and sell it to all of Ponyville.

The fact that they used her apples without asking might have had something to do with it as well.

What she couldn’t understand though, was how they could be brothers and yet always be at each other’s throats so much. Applejack would never claim to be the perfect sister, and Applebloom would hardly be so generous as to prove her wrong, but those two unicorns argued about absolutely everything.

Suddenly, a rainbow blur shot through the crowd and she was greeted with a large pair of maroon eyes right in her face.

“Is it ready yet?!” Rainbow Dash asked excitedly, trying to sneak a peek behind her friend.

“Rainbow, this is the fourteenth time you’ve asked in the last hour. Be patient will ya? It’ll be out in a minute, for real this time.” Applejack blocked her.

“Be patient?” Rainbow asked “Be patient?!” she asked again as though it were the most impossible and unreasonable thing in the world to ask “Cider season only came once a year! Now you’re doing it again; how can I be patient?”

“Because this isn’t cider season. It’s just somethin’ Brovir and Rundi are doin’ so they can pay me back for usin’ our apples fer their experiments.” She pulled Rainbow a bit closer and whispered to her. “Honestly, ah don’t rightly know what they’re makin’. They just put a bunch of regular ol’ ingredients onto a regular ol’ barrel, but then they used their magic to boil it, and then magic to keep it cold. Magic is fine and all, ah got nothing against it mahself, but I just don’t know why you’d use it ta make cider.”

“Wait a minute. Are you telling me…” Rainbow pulled back with a suspicious stare “That they’re making magic cider?” she squished her face with her hooves in excitement.

“Hey everypony!” Rainbow leapt above the crowd and kept herself aloft with her wings “Brovir and Rundi are making magic cider for us!”

The crowd cheered their approval while Applejack rolled her eyes.

“This is going to be so awesome.” Rainbow said as she landed.

“Rainbow… Dash… Slow… umph. Down.” A red-maned pegasus gasped as she collapsed at Rainbow’s hooves.

“Oh, heh, sorry Yisra.”

“It’s cool, I’m just gonna lay here for a while.” She said and curled up on the ground.

Yisra was with the others Applejack had found on her farm that day, and Rainbow had taken her on as part of her weather team. Yisra was a natural at clearing clouds and making rain, even if she was a weak flyer. She said she was a mage like the others, but as far as Rainbow knew, or anypony else for that matter, pegasi couldn’t use magic.

“Cider’s here everypony!” Applebloom called, much to the delight of everypony.

“Eey-yup.” Big Mac said and hoisted the first keg onto the tap as ponies lined up, bits at the ready.

After most of the crowd had purchased a mug and the line thinned out a bit, a pair of scaly faces showed up at the register, one familiar and the other relatively new.

“Howdy Spike, howdy Ellis-day… or however you pronounce yer name.” she greeted them. “How’s everything goin’?”

“It’s ilas-Tei, but you’re getting the hang of it. Twilight Sparkle is doing her best to help us out, but she can’t seem to find Winterhold, Whiterun, or any of the holds on her maps; quite worrying. Spike and I were just taking a break from it actually.”

“Yep, us dragons gotta stick together.” Spike puffed out his chest.

“I keep telling you I’m not a dragon, I’m an Argonian, there’s a biological difference.” The lizard-pony corrected him “So what’s going on here?”

“Yer friends Brovir and Rundi say they finally perfected that mead stuff, so we’re sellin’ it.” Applejack told him “Come to think of it, this barrel’s almost empty; better get another.”

Ilas-Tei tugged awkwardly at the collar of her robes. “Uh, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you ponies to drink that. You know what alcohol is, right?”

“Well sure, we use it to disinfect cuts and scrapes and clean tar and paint off our tools all the time. Why do you-” Applejack stopped mid-sentence at what was surely a ridiculous thought “Heh-heh, yer not sayin’ they put that stuff in this here cider… are ya?”

As much as she’d rather lie, and ease what was obviously filling Applejack with dread, Ilas-Tei could only nod and point at the ponies surrounding them as their walking patterns became more irregular and their speech more slurred.

“Wow this stuff packs a punch.”

“It burns a little in my mouth, I kinda like it.”

“Why hasn’t this been invented before?”

“I dunno Berry, but it can’t be good for our teeth.”

“I see pink humans.”

“Celestia in living in my torso!”

Applejack sunk down behind the counter a bit and hid her face with her hat.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that dangerous.” Ilas-Tei assured her “They might lose a few brain cells along the way, and they’ll have a massive headache when this is over, but they’ll be fine… probably.”

“Yeah… that don’t make me feel any better.”

“Jappleack!” Rainbow slurred as she crashed next to them “Thish shtuff’s the best thing ever! I’s had like five mugs already, and I feel goooood. Can I get summore?” The pegasus wrapped a foreleg around Applejack in order to stand up straight-ish.

“Sugercube, ah think you’ve had enough. That stuff weren’t meant to be drank anyhow, an’ I’m gonna give those two brothers a piece of mah mind.”

Rainbow just stared drunkenly at Applejack for a second. “You are a good friend.” she stated simply with a slap on the back.

“Uh… than-“

“And I wanna fuck your brains out.”

“What?!” Applejack yelled in shock.

“Yeah. C’mon, you an’ me. Your place. Right now. Heh, when I'm done you won't be walking straight for we- hwu-bmm…”

Her cheeks bulged with the contents of her stomach. And then Rainbow Dash threw up on Applejack.

“You’re hot.” She sputtered and passed out, leaving Applejack standing there with her eye twitching in annoyance and her face twisted up in disgust.

Everyone around had turned and witness the exchange, and now watched in silent, drunken horror at what was about to happen.

“Wuh-oh.” Spike muttered and clung to Ilas-Tei’s back.

“Eey-nope.” Big Mac spoke as he and Applebloom took cover.

“Heh, wow. Okay…” Ilas-Tei nervously backed up “I’m just… I’m just gonna… yeah.” and with that the lizard-pony and dragon fled the market street post-haste as it erupted in an explosion of angry shouting that will not be repeated.

…

Meanwhile in her library tree, a unicorn prodigy by the name of Twilight Sparkle was ripped from her concentration and jumped in fright as the entire tree shook and a layer of dust settled on her notes.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh and got back to her research, the places these mages mentioned didn’t appear anywhere she’d looked, and this got her to brainstorm why that might be. Perhaps they were from another time, in the distant past or maybe some time in the future; it would certainly explain why they didn’t know about Celestia, but it didn’t explain why they were so freaked out by ponies.

Whoever they were, they seemed friendly enough, and she was eager to learn more about them. She just hoped that wherever they were from that she could get them home, back to the people who care about them.

“What do you mean vanished?” Fenora asked Ancano.

Once they had all returned to the college, the black robed elf had practically stopped them at the gate as the golems carried the eye of magnus across that narrow bridge. His first words were a snide remark that maybe another group of apprentices had perished. This brought Fenora to delve deeper into the workings of the school.

Even adjusting her mindset for the fact she was hearing it all from a pompous Thalmor, she didn’t like all the secrets that were brought out into the light.

“What do you think I mean you simpleton? I mean we couldn’t find them, likely due to the gross lack of oversight, just like everything this college does.” The altmer replied with a sneer “And that was just the group before yours. The group before them was incinerated in a training accident when one of those spell pillars exploded. And the one before them tried entering a demonic pact using a deadric artifact and were turned inside out and then burned to death.”

Ancano scoffed and looked into the distance. “Apprentices don’t have much value to these mages apparently. I’m just glad its all contained here… and that no one cares about these students.”

“Fuck yourself with a flaming cactus Ancano.” Tolfdir cursed as a rock golem carried him over “I care about them; we all do. We do our very best to ensure a safe learning environment for any who come to us. It’s not our fault some of them decide to eat deadly nightshade and deer antlers to learn what effects they have. I mean really, who in their right mind would do that!?”

“Indeed… well it’s quite fortunate all of you survived.” Ancano said without the vaguest hint of sincerity “If you need me, and I hope you do not… I shall be putting the finishing touches on my nefariously evil plans.”

Tolfdir stuck his tongue out as Ancano left before turning to Fenora.

“I’m terribly sorry about all that. Ancano has never seen eye to eye with any of us, on a great many things.” he apologized “I’ve spoken to the others already, but I would also like to personally apologize to you as well, for allowing my curiosity to get the better of me yet again, and putting your friend into such danger because of it.”

Fenora looked over her shoulder at the changeling she’d carried on her back. “Well… danger is kind of what we do.” She said as Stross chewed on her neck in his sleep.

“I hope he will be alright. Were it not for his intervention, things could have ended in tragedy today. If there is ever anything we at the college can assist you with, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Actually, have you found out anything about Luna, and why her magic isn’t working?” Fenora asked.

“Actually… we did.” Mirabelle walked up to them.

Luna sat out in the freezing snow, wrapped in a heavy wool cloak. Accompanying her at the top of this peak was a dunmer by the name of Arenea Ienith, who apparently lived up there in order to give daily praise to the goddess before them.

Together they stared up at the great stone statue of a daedric prince holding a blazing sun and a crescent moon in her hands as she gazed out at the horizon.

As she sat there, Luna thought back to just a few hours prior.

*You know what time it is**Flashback time!**Insert past-viewing effects here*

“I just don’t get it, we’ve tried everything!” Sergius paced the floor in the Hall of elements while the others lay about dejectedly “We’ve tried grapefruit, we’ve tried pineapple, we’ve tried apples and carrots and lettuce and mangoes in syrup, and the whole food pyramid for Shor’s sake! What are we missing?!”

It was then that Nirya perked up. “Bananas!” she exclaimed “We haven’t done bananas yet have we?”

“She’s right, we haven’t!” Phinis realized.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Mirabelle asked “We’re talking about using banana’s here.”

“Sure it’s safe, we just need to get some first. I hear Enthir has just recently smuggled some in.”

And with that, all of them left in order to buy some illegal produce, leaving Luna and Trixie alone in the dimly lit room with scattered vegetable debris littering the floor. Alone that is, except for one dark elf illusionist who was painting his nails black.

Letting out a long exhausted sigh, he turned to them. “Do you two want me to just tell you why it isn’t working?”

“Our magic, or the cures?” Trixie asked.

“Yes.”

Both women from Equestia spared a glance at each other before nodding at him.

Drevis took a deep breath. “Something is eating away your supply of magic, but it’s not a parasite, it’s your own bodies.”

“What!?” Luna and Trixie shouted. “What do you mean, how is that even possible.”

Drevis paused. “Are you done? Good, now allow me to explain. Quite simply put, you two are out of your element here in Skyrim. See, you two…” he pointed at them “are from a world absolutely saturated with magic. The animals have magic, the ground has magic, the trees, the sky; I’d bet the air you breath there is full of magical energies.”

Drevis took a moment to sip his latte before continuing. “But here…” he motioned around him “we’ve got none of that. Just dull… boring… painful existence. Magic isn’t bubbly and soft here, it’s hard and cold and empty. It takes time for it to draw into one’s body; you’re not used to the change. Since your bodies eat up any energy that you take in faster than you can absorb it naturally, you’ve gotta keep chugging magika potions in order to keep your magic-eating bodies healthy, just like I’ve gotta keep popping my meds so I don’t off myself.”

“Then how is it that Princess Luna gets so sick, while Trixie merely can’t cast her spells?” Trixie asked.

“I assume it’s because of her deeper connection to your world or something. Her worlds magic keeps her immortal after all, I wouldn’t expect you’d fare well without it constantly feeding into you.” Drevis leaned back and stared off into space.

“Then what of Stross? He is from our world and yet he fares fine.” Luna argued.

Drevis grunted and gave a shallow nod. “Well yeah, but he’s like some life syphoning, vampire-bug something or other. We have a near endless supply of murderous cutthroats and bandit jerk-offs and politicians for him to feed off of. He’s much better off than either of you.”

“How do you even know all this?”

“Because unlike some mages, I actually pay attention to things. I listen, I ask questions, and I figure things out. It’s not my fault no one bothers to ask me for answers.” Drevis sulked.

“Then what are we supposed to do? The great and powerful Trixie can’t be the great and powerful Trixie is she can’t use magic!” Trixie grabbed him by his robes and dragged his expressionless face over to hers.

“You wanted to know, and now you do. Don’t get mad at me for bringing the curse of knowledge upon your innocently feeble minds.” He replied blackly and pulled out a purple flask “You could do what I do, I suppose. Keep on chugging, and keep on trucking... till the world gets the better of you.” He said and downed the contents of the bottle, grimacing as the foul tasting liquid passed over his tongue. “Ahh, that’s some good happy juice.”

While Trixie was rather furious about this revelation, Luna was silently resolved about it.

“Thank you Drevis,” she said to him and turned to leave “tell the others I’m going for a walk.”

“I see butterflies and rainbows!” the normally depressed dunmer cheered before face-planting into a stack of spell tomes.

*end flashback*… *Woo woo woo*

Luna let out a sigh and continued to stare at the shrine of Azura, a light covering of snow coated her now, yet she paid the cold no heed.

“Perhaps you were right cousin, perhaps Tia and I did make a mistake, perhaps we were wrong.” She thought aloud, remembering back to when they found Equestria, before it was Equestira.

They were young back then, and not just by the standards of deities. She remembered how the two of them would gaze through the seas of worlds at that one little planet full of cute little horses. It was so cold, so dangerous back then… so much death and sadness, and so many things preying upon those innocent little things. If we could only help them, they thought.

“…And so we did…”

Finally Luna realized the shivers she was getting were not from the cold, but because she’d run out of- no… her body had consumed all the energy in it again. On what had become instinct at that point, she reached to her belt for another magika potion only to grasp at an empty sling.

Gripping her fist for a moment and pounding it into the snow beside her, she suddenly realized it was stupid to get so upset over such a small thing. Sighing, she threw herself back into the cushiony pile of flakes.

“I just don’t care anymore.” She sulked and solemnly dragged her arms and legs back and forth, giving her outline in the snow a pair of robes.

Moving on

“That’s it, we’re leaving.” Fenora stated firmly.

“What, but you only just arrived. And lessons have only just begun.” Mirabelle stopped her “Are you really sure you want to leave so soon?”

“You mages are nice and all, despite what the people of Winterhold think and say.” Fenora began “But Alduin and his dragons won’t just wait around while we’re lollygagging. You’ve got nothing on how the dragons were originally defeated, we’ve learned Luna’s magic is not in our power to solve, and Stross took an axe through his torso.” She listed off with a defeated sigh “I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think there’s any more you can do to help us.”

“I understand, but here…” Mirabelle handed her a few large magika potions “for your Princess. Good luck, and if you ever need us, we’ll be here.”

“Thank you.” Fenora gave a smile and a nod, and began walking across the precarious bridge with Stross on her back.

She turned and looked over her shoulder for a moment and to Mirabelle wave her off and disappear towards the Hall of elements, presumably to join the others in studying the eye.

“Wait!” a voice came from behind her as she had made it to the archway on the other side.

Brelyna ran up, stopping just short of crashing into her. “You’re not really leaving already are you?”

“The world won’t save itself.” Fenora told her, assuming it was obvious.

“I… but… what about Stross; he can stay here with us, right?” Brelyna stuttered “He can learn spells that will help you on your quest. I’m a fast learner, and we can study together.”

“I’ve taken down two of Alduin’s dragons so far, but I couldn’t have done it without Stross. We’ve pulled each other out of the fire more times than I care to remember already, and you see how well one of us fares when the other isn’t there to help.” Fenora reasoned “If I don’t-“

“I love him!”

The two elves stood there in silence for a moment, Brelyna had clasped her hands over her mouth and was staring in shock at her own outburst.

“I- I’m sorry…” she eventually found her voice “It’s just… he understood me so well, he listened to me when I spoke. I… he protected me, and I- Don’t leave yet. Please.”

“Brelyna, I’m sorry, but I need to make something clear.” Fenora walked over and placed a hand on the dunmer’s shoulder “Stross is mine.” Her tone suddenly became hard and her face bore a frown “I promised to stay with him, to never abandon him. On my life… on my heart and soul, I will never part with him. Do you understand?”

Brelyna could only stare into Fenora’s unwavering eyes, her lips quivering and tears welling up. “I…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, and instead she pulled away, buried her face in her arms and ran back across the bridge to the college as her tears trickled onto the icy stone.

“Brelyna wait I-“ Fenora began to say as she took a step to pursue, but realized it would do no good. She had just broken the girl’s heart, and to follow, even with the best intentions would still only lead to further torment now.

Knowing this, Fenora turned away and continued into town, her eyes focused on the ground, her mind on the goal ahead, telling herself she did what had to be done.

“I was wondering when you’d come.” Luna said evenly when Fenora walked through the door of the Frozen Hearth.

“Oh, hey Luna.” Fenora replied, barely looking up from the floor as she took a seat next to her and setting Stross on her right. “So I feel terrible, what’s up with you?”

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Luna got straight to the point “I must leave you now.”

This snapped Fenora out of her guilty stupor. “What?”

“Indeed.” Luna nodded “I intend to seek my sister’s guidance in this matter, and to inquire the researchers at her school for gifted unicorns. Their knowledge of Equestria’s magic rivals even that of my sister and I; perhaps they will have a way to preserve it when I return to you here.”

“So that’s it, you’re just up and leaving?” Fenora asked as she grabbed a bottle of nord mead, though not bothering to uncork it yet.

“Tis not as though I wish to abandon you in the middle of your quest, nor this world in a time of need.” Luna assured her “And yet, without my magic to aid in the fight against these dragons I’d be usel- use… I could not be of any help.” she choked.

“I am sorry.” She added.

“No, it’s fine. I understand.” Fenora said as she glumly stared at the unopened bottle in her hands “You’ll need these if you want to make the trip.” She handed the stash of magika potions to Luna, but didn’t dare to look her in the eyes.

Luna accepted them and watched as her dragonborn friend sat there sulking. “I shall not, as they say, leave you hanging. I shall return. But pray tell, what do you plan to do now?”

“Mercer Frey.” Fenora said stiffly “He has the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, and right now it’s the only lead we have left. I figure if I walk to Windhelm now, then take a carriage to Riften and be there by tonight.”

Luna nodded and glugged down a couple of the potions, leaving the rest on the table. “Then I wish thee luck, noble hero.”

With that, she charged up her horn and the room was enveloped in a bright blue light, one which Fenora didn’t even bother to flinch at. With Luna headed back to Equestria, Stross unconscious and propped up against her, and only the crackling fire behind her giving any form of recourse from the silence, Fenora sighed and took a deep swig from her bottle of mead.

“Don’t trust Mercer.” Came a voice right next to her ear, causing her to spit her drink across the table in surprise.

Coughing and sputtering, she turned to face whoever it was that snuck up and startled the living ‘blivion out of her.

Only she found nothing. Fenora wiped her mouth with her sleeve and looked around her only to find there was no one else around save for Stross, who had fallen on the floor during her spit-take. Performing one last sweep of the room, she slowly sat back down and reached to bring Stross back up.

“Don’t you want to know why?” asked the voice from before.

“Gah!” Fenora whipped around to see a dunmer with gleaming purple eyes in old Thieves’ Guild clothing sitting next to her. “First off, stop that. Secondly, who are you? And thirdly… yeah, sure.”

“My name is Karliah, I’m a- I used to be a member of the Guild until Mercer accused me of murdering our former leader, Gallus.” She introduced herself “But I did no such thing, t’was Mercer who lured him into a trap and killed him, just as he killed any who discovered his secret.”

“What secret?” Fenora asked, curious to know more about the already apparent scumbag she was dealing with.

“That he’s been stealing from the Guild in order to fund his overly lavish lifestyle and betrayed our sacred covenant.” Karliah stated “I must know, where are you meeting him?”

“He never gave an actual meeting place for when he got the horn, so I assume Riften. If he’s not there, one of the others can tell me where he is.” Fenora told her.

“Do not bother; for I shall arrive before you, and I shall make him pay for what he has done.” Karliah said with anger dripping from her voice.

“Hold up, what about the horn?” Fenora stopped her “I need that thing if I’m going to stop Alduin from killing everyone in the world, and Mercer says he has it.”

“That is your quest.” Karliah dismissed her “I have spent years gathering evidence, undermining Mercer’s allies, and tracking him to a place to capture him alive and bring him back to answer before the Guild. I shall not have this chance be wasted.”

Fenora blinked, and the dunmer thief had vanished again. The door to the inn was held open slightly by the rushing wind outside before silently clicking shut again.

Fenora hurriedly trudged through the snow with the blizzard tugging at the cloak tightly wrapped around her. She held Stross onto her back in the tightly bundled blanket she’s wrapped him in to keep him warm while they traveled.

“Great, just great.” She huffed as she tried to keep up her pace. She truly couldn’t care less about what happened to that slimy guild leader, but if he died before she could get the Horn of Jurgan Windcaller from him, it would be leaving it up to chance if she’d ever get it at all. It could be lost along with his body, he might not even have it when he dies.

This wasn’t something she’d leave to luck.

Due to her inner thoughts, or maybe because of the poor visibility in the snow, Fenora didn’t notice the figure in black garb until he was only a few persons’ lengths away.

“Well well! Fancy meeting you here!” he yelled, his distinct sarcastic sneer detectable even through the wind.

“Guild master Frey, I was looking for you actually!” Fenora replied.

“Is that so?!” he stepped closer.

“Uhh… yeah, it is. Do you have Windcaller’s Horn or what?”

“I do.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal horn no larger than an ale flagon “But you won’t be getting it. My sources say that you recently spoke to a certain Nightingale, and ex-Guild member by the name of Karliah. That’s the interesting part, you see she told you a bit too much.

“She told you the truth about how I stole the master key from Nocturnal in the Twilight Sepulchr. She told you about how I used it to steal from the Guild’s vault, and how I killed anyone who knew, picking off my own one by one for the sake of maintaining my wealth.” Mercer rambled “And she told you about how I tricked her boyfriend Gallus into walking into that tomb with me and killed him, then blamed the whole thing on her! She told you I still sleep with a teddy bear. And she told you-“

“Actually, she didn’t tell me even half of that.” Fenora interrupted his villainous monologue “I don’t care about any of that stuff, now just give me the thingy so I can save the world!”

“Hold it right there Mercer!” called a voice over the howling gale.

Turning around, the two of them saw Karliah standing there with her bow raised and an arrow nocked.

“Hah!” Mercer laughed “Well met Karliah! But do you honestly think any of your arrows will reach me before my blade finds your heart?” he taunted and drew his sword of dwarven metal.

“You’re scum among thieves Mercer. You betrayed us all. Give me one good reason not to try.” Karliah said with a scowl below her hood.

“You're a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow and Honningbrew to piss off Maven was inspired. But thinking you can defeat me, out in the open like this is a fools gambit!”

“Gallus taught us both well. To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies. It was one of the first lessons he ever taught us.” Karliah recounted “Do you remember Mercer? Do you remember when we were just kids pickpocketing on the streets when he found us? He took us in, taught us the ways of shadow, and you repaid his kindness with murder!”

“Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way.” Mercer countered “I had all the fortune I could ever dream of, but he had to go on about his worthless honor! I wasn’t about to go back to begging for spare coins, never again!”

“All your wealth, ill gotten. Did you forget the Oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?” Karliah questioned as she overdrew her bowstring.

“The Nightingales can burn! Perhaps it's time for you and Gallus to become reunited!” Mercer took a threatening step forward.

“The only ones who will be reunited are-“

“Oh for fuck sake!” Fenora shouted “Shoot him already!”

Karliah realized how long they'd been exchanging dialogue and finally let loose her arrow, but it went astray by a few inches. And that was all it took to sail right past Mercer’s shoulder and ping Fenora right in the gut.

“Oh, you suck at aiming.” Fenora strained out before the poison on the arrow’s tip paralyzed her.

“The elf is right, you always were a lousy shot.” Mercer spat “Perhaps you should try swords for once!”

“I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet, I will be your undoing.” The dunmer said before taking a shot from a flask and vanishing from sight.

“You were always a coward too!” Mercer yelled out into the storm.

He turned around to face Fenora, who was still on the ground, struggling against the poison to move even the slightest bit. “Well this is unfortunate for you, I’ll have to deal with that meddlesome dunmer later, but I’m afraid you know too much now.”

“Wh… whos fault… is that. Huh?” Fenora muttered through her slacked jaw.

“Well one thing I won’t miss is your smart-ass attitude.” Mercer said with a grunt as he grabbed Fenora by the cloak and dragged her towards the icy ledge overlooking the sea, unknowingly dragging a concealed Stross along for the ride. “Hasta la bye-bye, dragonborn.”

With that, Mercer pulled out his dagger and punctured Fenora’s windpipe for good measure before throwing her off the cliff and into the freezing waters below.

Gear up and grab your side-quests!

“…’s waking up… …et me talk to… …et back and stay there.” Fenora managed to hear as her eyes creaked open and her hearing came back to her “Hey there Fen, you feeling alright?”

Stross was kneeling by her side as she lay wrapped in a bedroll on the icy ground. Looking past him, she saw the city of Windhelm, in all its racist glory.

“Str- Stoss.” She tried to speak his name, but he quickly shushed her.

“Try not to talk for a while. I tried my best, but that stab wound to your throat hasn’t fully healed yet.” Stross explained “It should be okay in a day, maybe two. But until then don’t speak, and certainly don’t use any of your dragon shouts.”

Fenora immediately wondered why then he had asked if she was okay and expected an answer, but decided to leave the matter be.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” came an infuriatingly familiar voice “but Mercer will no doubt reach Riften before us now. He’ll tell the Guild whatever he has to in order to label us as all as traitors. We’ll be lucky if Maven isn’t sending the Dark Brotherhood after us- Hekq cle kehc fre mir!”

“OR!” Fenora yelled as she strangled Karliah “You’ll be lucky if I don’t rip your stupid brain out through your- Keh…”

Fenora stopped her angry threats when she coughed up a bit of blood.

“Fenora, your throat remember!?” Stross half chided her.

“Translate for me.” she rasped before making a series of gestures.

“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to do this.” with a pulse of red embers, Stross transformed into Fenora and began reading the various hand signs and motions she made.

“I’m freaking pissed that you shot me and allowed Mercer to slit my throat and then dump me in the ocean while I bled out.” ‘Fenora’ said angrily.

Fenora waved her hands and clenched a fist.

“While you hid like a bitch.”

“I saved your life.” Karliah defended “That arrow had a unique poison that slowed your heart rate and kept you from bleeding out. I even stayed behind to pull you out of the water.”

Fenora frowned and gave a low growl.

“Okay, first, that’s bullspit; it’s because of you I was stabbed in the first place. Second, Stross did most of the work, all you did was start the fire and find these blankets. And three,” Fen-Stross rose her voice for emphasis “we’re still gonna beat the ever living crap out of you.”

“No no no, wait! Please, I can help you!” Karliah begged.

Fenora raised an eyebrow.

“How do you figure?” Fen-Stross asked.

“I have all the proof we need to convince the Guild that he’s betrayed them, no matter what he tells them.” the dunmer thief held up a leatherbound book with an intricate lock “Gallus’s journal, it details everything leading up to his death, and proves Mercer is crooked.”

Fenora snatched the tome out of her hands and smirked.

“Then we can just take this to them ourselves.” Fen-Stross told her.

Karliah’s eyes widened and she looked at them, pleading. “Please just let me come with you. Twenty-five years I’ve been pursuing this; for twenty-five years I’ve had to constantly watch my back and sleep with one eye open! Twenty-five years I’ve been all alone, unable to trust anyone. Please just let me come with you, if only to see this through.”

Fenora and her doppelgänger looked at each other in contemplation. Fenora rubbed her fingertips together.

“Alright, but when we get done, we expect to finally get Windcaller’s horn.” Fen-Stross told her “And a nice amount of gold for all this trouble.”

“If it means I can finally rest easy, anything in my power to grant shall be yours.” Karliah agreed.

Fenora gave a small fist-pump and looked around, throwing Stross a questioning eye and making a motion as though putting on a backpack.

“Oh, yeah, about that.” Stross rubbed the back of his head as he dispelled his illusion “I kinda… had to… leave all our gear at the bottom of the sea floor in order to bring you back to the surface. Also your clothes. You’re wearing nothing but a bandage around your neck.”

Fenora let out a squawk of surprise and quickly grabbed the bedroll and wrapped it around herself, giving Stross a hard glare.

“Well what was I supposed to do; say something sooner? That’s what the cold is for!” Stross asked before getting hit in the face with a piece of flaming firewood.

“Hold it right there! What business do you have in Windhelm, bug?” one of four burly guards stopped Stross at the gates of the city.

Seeing as how they couldn’t get their old gear back without diving into freezing cold water, Stross was sent into the city alone to buy some new gear with their remaining septims, the only other thing he'd managed to save. He asked why they weren't coming with him, but Fenora pointed out that she currently had no proper clothing, and Karliah was a wanted dunmer thief. Walking into the most racially prejudiced cities would likely get them all arrested or worse.

“Oh you know, just some shopping; some new clothes, potions, decent weaponry, maybe something to eat.” Stross answered.

“Hah! I’ll bet.” The guard spat “For all we know, you could be some imperial assassin, come to weaken our military by taking out our leaders.”

“What? No I’m not-“

“Furthermore, we’re under orders to stop anyone we think is suspicious, and you look mighty suspicious with that big stupid grin on your face. Beat it!”

“Fine.” Stross huffed and dejectedly walked away.

There was a flash of red in the distance, and two seconds later a nord in a familiar tunic and cloak pieced together from rags walked up to the gate.

“Good day guardsmen!” he hailed them.

“Well met kinsman.” they responded.

“Boy there sure is no better place than Windhelm to spend your hard-earned gold, is there? I need to head to the tavern and get some nord mead… because I’m a nord and that’s our favorite. Get some good ol’ steel battleaxes while I’m at it, maybe make fun of the other races for not being as awesome as we are.” he said almost mockingly “Can I go in?”

“Of course, we always welcome our brethren.” The guard said and opened the gate for him.

“Heh, just like Equestria.” Stross thought as he entered the city.

“I liked the big stupid grin that guy had.” The guard said as he closed the gate.

As Stross entered the city for the first time, he couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the ancient architecture that had somehow stood up for all those centuries, with people constantly living in it none the less. The stonework might have looked worn and unpolished to some, but the fact that it existed spoke volumes about-

“Name’s Nils, I’m the cook up at Candlehearth Hall.” An old man said as he walked by “You can’t just throw big pieces of wood on the fire, gotta use the little bits too.”

“Uh, okay?” Stross answered, unsure why that bit of trivia was randomly given to him. However, he immediately got back on track with buying some-

“The people here call me Captian, because I used to be a sailor.” A man in a blue fleece jacket told him before continuing on his way.

“Um…”

“You come here where you're not wanted!” A man shouted angrily from Stross’s side and he flinched out of habit, but he found that he was not the target of the harassment. Instead, a dark elf woman was cornered by a pair of nord men, and they were really letting her know how much they didn’t like her kind.

“You eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks!” The man on the right spat at her.

“You tell ‘er Rolff!” his friend egged him on.

“We simply haven't taken a side because it's not our fight. We shouldn’t have to fight in a war just to be able to live here.” The dunmer reasoned.

“Hey, maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help in the war is because they're Imperial spies!” the other nord nudged his friend.

“Imperial spies? You can't be serious! I work for clan Shatter-shield, here in the city. What would I do, report to the legion how many barrels of fish guts and mead go in and out of the harbor?” she called the two on their ridiculous accusations.

“Oh you’d like for us to think you’re so harmless. Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy. We got ways of finding out what you really are.” the Rolff said as he cracked his knuckles.

“Hey back off!” Stross got between them and their target “What’s the matter with you? Threatening someone like that. And you!” he called to a nearby guard “Why are you just standing around letting this happen?”

The guard turned a disinterested eye to him and gave a dismissive shrug.

“Oh and what’s it to you then?” Rolff jabbed a finger into Stross’s chest “Are you some elf-lover?”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve met quite a few elves in Skyrim and most of them were very nice people, wonderful even.” Stross said proudly. "And for your information, I've even got a girlfriend who's an elf!"

Rolff was quite taken aback by this, clutching at his chest like he were about to have a stroke. “Then you’re a traitor to your own kind.” he said with a frown “You don’t belong in this city as much as these grey-skins! Get out of our city you poor excuse for a nord!”

“Enough!” bellowed a man in fur clothing as he stepped up beside Stross. “I did not fight in a long and bloody war for our people, just to see them turn into a bunch of foul-mouthed pig-headed racists that fight among themselves. Away with you, and you too Stenvar.”

“Brunwulf free-winter? I should have known you’d take the side of this degenerate scum and those pointy-ears.” Rolff said with a hateful glare. “This isn’t the end of this. I’ll be in the Grey quarter later to give these elves a piece of my mind.”

The two of them watched as the nords stomped off. Brunwulf then turned to the dunmer they’d been harassing. “Are you okay Suvaris?”

“Yes, thanks you both. War or not, you truly are a hero Brunwulf.” Suvaris breathed a sigh of relief and bid them farewell.

“I take it you’re new in town.” Brunwulf conversed with Stross as they made their way to the market district “Not many nords around here would stick up for our neighbors from the Grey quarter like you did. What’s your name?”

“I’m Stross, and no, I’m not from around here. Is it always this bad?”

Brunwulf sighed. “Afraid it is. After the so called Great war with the Aldmeri Dominion, many nords gained a natural distrust for anyone but their own kin. Even so, Ulfric’s war propaganda is only making things worse. To get his forces riled up for the fight ahead, Ulfric has sown the seeds of hatred towards all the other races among his soldiers, and it’s trickled down to everyone else.”

“That’s horrible, I’m sorry.” Stross said, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t be sorry friend, just do your part to make the world better for everyone.” Brunwulf told him before leaving to chat with some of the merchants.

Immediately to his right, Stross heard the persistent clanging of metal on metal. He turned to see a blacksmith feverously trying to shape a blade into one like many Fenora had picked up in the ancient tombs, and his assistant adjusting the fit on some helmets.

“Excuse me sir, are you the town’s smith?” Stross approached him.

“Of course I am. What do I look like, some dog or a tavern wench?”  he snapped, only realizing his harshness a second later “Ah, don't let my words cut you too deep. I've just been working the forge too hard, but Ulfric’s soldiers need their armor and weapons from somewhere. Name’s Oengul war-anvil; what can I do for ya?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you had any pieces for sale.”

“I haven’t had much time t’ make armor for sale, but if yer desperate, you can check in that box over there; it’s full of the pieces I’ve had to reject for this reason or that.” He pointed to a rather large bin near the side of the workbench.

Stross casually walked over and rummaged through the pieces. Most weren’t too bad actually, aside from being far too heavy or bulky to be of practical use. Yet one piece in particular caught his eye when he picked it up, it was a chainmail shirt with a thin piece of soft leather beneath each layer of chain.

“How much for this?” Stross asked the smith’s assistant.

“Hah, that piece of junk I made last week? Twenty septims and it’s yours. Can’t believe you’d want to wear that though, I mean it’s flimsy and the chains are uneven and-“

“And it’s light and gives solid protection without slowing you down.” Stross said as he slipped it on, the chainmail hugging his frame. “You shouldn’t sell yourself so short, it’s a good piece.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Sure, here’s twenty-five.” He took out a handful of the golden coins and counted them out for her “Thanks!”

“Wait!” the smith’s assistant stopped him “I have something else that might interest you… stranger.”

She put her current project down for the moment and went behind the smelter, beckoning him to follow. When he did, Stross found her rummaging through a box hidden in a pile of ore. From it she pulled out a set of armor comprised of overlapping black plates grafted into the underside of a leather duster-style coat.

Stross let out a low whistle.

“You like it? I’ve been working on these for a while now. Master Oengul has told me time and again that flashy and stylized armor like this has no place on the battlefield, but I assure you, this is just as good if not better than what you’ll find soldiers wearing.” She told him with barely contained giddiness “I’ve tested my armor against swords, axes, it even stops arrows at point blank!”

“Wow… Is it for sale?” Stross asked, knowing Fenora would definitely like to have it.

“Well considering it’s the latest version of what I consider my life’s work, aside from becoming a master blacksmith that is, how about… three-thousand septims?”

Stross was sure he heard a window break in his head. Three thousand spetims was only two-hundred some-odd less than what he had with him, and he still had to buy weapons and potions.

“I’m sure it’s worth it, but that’s still a little steep for me. How about twenty-eight hundred?” he offered.

The woman sighed. “It took me days to make this, and it cost me a good amount of my pay to get the materials. I’m afraid I really can’t go lower than twenty-nine fifty.”

A lightbulb went on in Stross’s head, and he got a brilliant idea. “What if I told you that this armor is for the legendary Dragonborn, and she’ll be wearing it while we save the world together from Alduin the dragon-god of time?”

The woman was silent for a moment as she looked over the nord before her, then she broke out in a bit of laughter. “Oh wow, that wasn’t half bad. You know what, just for that, and for that little tip you gave me for my other piece, I’ll knock off a hundred gold.”

“Should have know she'd take it as a joke. Eh, close enough though.” Stross thought as he handed over the money and received the set of armor.

Stross walked through the doors of the potion shop by the name of the White Phial. The store smelled strongly of burning liquids and unknown substances, and strewn across the counter and on the shelves near the back wall were potions and reagents of every kind. yet what Stross didn’t see was any store owner.

“Hello? Anyone in here?” he called.

“Go away!” Barked a man’s voice from the second floor “Leave an old failure to wallow and die in his misery.”

A young man quickly descended the stairs to address his customer. “I’m terribly sorry about that sir. Whatever it is you need, please just take it from the shelves, I’ll trust you to pay for it if you so please. Hold on master!” and with that he sprinted back up the stairs.

More intrigued by the prospect of what was causing the commotion, Stross cautiously ascended the wooden planks that led to the second floor. From there he observed the man trying to get an elderly altmer to drink some green medicine, only for the bedridden elf to violently slap it away and demand that he be left alone.

The man did as he was told and sullenly left the room, barely registering the fact that Stross was eavesdropping on him.

“Do you need some help?” Stross asked as the two walked back downstairs “Because it looks like you need help.”

“I doubt there’s anything that can help master Nurelion now.” The man, whose name was Quintus, said sadly.

“What do you mean? Is he sick?” Stross asked, wanting to know if he could help in any way.

“Oh he’s sick all right, but his ailment can’t be cured by any medicine we can create. It’s a sickness of the heart.” Quintus told him “All his life he’s searched for the legendary White Phial, a flask made of never-melting snow from the throat of the world, capable of replenishing any liquid you fill it with. We’d finally managed to track down its resting place, but once we’d nearly gotten killed retrieving it, we found it was broken, and unable to hold anything.”

“So… why not fix it?” Stross asked the obvious.

“It’s not that simple!” Quintus though on that a while “Well okay, maybe it is that simple, but there’s still a problem. There are three ingredients I need to repair it; powdered mammoth’s tuck, a briar heart, and a bit of never-melting snow from the throat of the world. I have the first two on hand in the store, and I’d go and make the pilgrimage to the Greybeards myself, but master Nurelion has been getting worse every day, and I’m afraid to leave his side to make the journey.”

“Well, I know the Greybeards. I’m kind of on a quest to save the world right now, but the next time we head up to see them, I can get some of that snow and bring it here to you.” Stross offered.

“Really? That would be wonderful, thank you.” Quintus looked on the verge of jumping for joy “Tell you what friend, it isn’t much, but since you’ve agreed to help, I can give you a discount on any potions you need.”

“Awesome! I’m going to need some health potions, and maybe a couple antidotes for general poisons.” Stross said as he pulled out his coin purse.

“Good thing you don’t need stamina potions, Susanna makes sure we’re always sold out.” Quintus gave a hearty chuckle.

Stross raised an eyebrow, indicating he didn’t get the joke.

“She’s a bit of a whore.” Quintus explained.

With just over two-hundred septims left in his purse, Stross still needed to get at least one decent weapon for Fenora to use. He had his magic, and had held onto that cursed blade of f*ck-your-healing-potions that only he could use due to the fact that he didn’t need to touch it, so he didn’t need anything else for himself.

Of course they could simply wander around until they found some bandits, beat them up and take their weapons, but that system seemed to always be pretty hit and miss. On rare occasions they’d find an enchanted claymore of lightning or something awesome, but most of the time the rabble of thugs would be wielding blunted iron swords and axes.

Fortunately, he’d overheard talk of a shop that sold discount weaponry in the Grey-quarter.

As soon as he wandered into the alley that led into the section of the city reserved for the dark elves, he noticed quite a difference in tone. The stone walkways were filthy compared to the ones in the upper markets, likely due to the gutters leading right into the streets. Even though the stairs led downwards into the warren-like homes, the walls around them still rose up high above them, blocking out much of the sky and leaving little room for the stale air to vent.

Overall, it was a very dingy and miserable place.

Stross was able to find the shop rather quickly as it was both the first on his path, and the only place that looked like an actual business. “Sadri’s used wares” the sign outside proclaimed, though the effect of having a proper sign was more like putting a fresh coat of paint on a broken board.

Stross walked through the door and was cheerfully greeted by a dunmer man behind the counter.

“Hello my friend! Welcome to Sadri’s used wares, I’m Revyn Sadri. How may I help you?” he said, making sure to crack a chipper smile.

“I need some weapons for a quest of great justice with a side of vengeance and getting paid.” Stross told him.

“Ah, of course. We seem to have a lot of people doing that these days.” Revyn said and reached below the counter “Take a look through these, they were brought in just this morning by some intrepid souls who returned from a bit of dungeon delving.”

Among the assorted weapons were quite a few iron maces, a couple swords with chipped blades, and one or two longbows with frayed strings, all of them with more than a few lingering blood stains.

“Is this all you have?” Stross asked as he put back a pair of daggers.

Revyn sighed, his cheerful demeanor falling apart. “Unfortunately yes. Everything you see here is brought in and sold to me by adventurers like yourself. Ever since the Jarl made the guards get all choosy about who they let in the city, business has been rather painfully slow.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Stross looked over the assorted second-hand weapons and got to thinking “Do you have any ingots? Any kind of metal will do.”

Revyn turned quickly rummaged around inside a crate. “I’ve got a few steel ones, and an ebony one if you’re interested.”

“Yes.” Stross clapped his hands together “I can definitely make this work. How much for two steel, the ebony and this two-hander?”

“I’ll do it for two-hundred.”

“You have a deal my friend.” Stross told him and handed him bag of coins.

Revyn practically jumped over the counter to shake Stross’s hand. “Thank you sir. I’ll be able to last the week due to you.”

With the ingots and sword and an idea in his head, Stross walked out and back to the upper markets.

“I’m sorry… you want to what?” Hermmir, the blacksmith’s apprentice and assistant asked, cleaning out her ear at what she just heard.

“I want to take this iron two-hander and turn it into a single-edged piercing sword, using Ebony to coat the blade and steel to reinforce the spine while tempering the whole thing with my flame magic. Can you help me with it?” Stross quickly repeated.

Hermir stared at him for a second and a smile slowly crept across her face. “Let’s do this.”

And so for the next hour the two were hard at work on the sword, all the while under the disapproving stares from Oengul for ‘butchering smithing as an art and a duty’.

“Alright, keep track of how much material we’re grinding off from that side, we’ll need to put the same weight in steel once we reinforce it, otherwise it’ll be unbalanced.” Hermir told Stross as he ground off one side of the sword.

…

“Get ready, I’m heating the ingots now.” Stross said and floated the two steel bars between his hands.

Hermir flinched a bit when the illusion peeled back from the magic flowing out of them, revealing his black, corroded scales.

“Don’t worry, that’s just… um, a side effect of casting magic this hard.” Stross lied “It happens all the time, wears off when I stop.”

…

“Okay… now the ebony. Ready?”

“Ready.” Stross held up the ball of liquefied molten metal in his telekinetic aura.

Hermir slowly plunged the blade through the orb, coating the entire surface of the blade in black. Afterwards she quickly moved it to the worktable and stared hammering the edge. Once that was done, she plunged it into a nearby trough of water to quench it.

As the final step she handed it back to Stross, who channeled his flames into the blade rather than around it, completely fusing the different metals together. A bit of magic shot out of the surface as it was quenched a final time.

The result was a thin, two-handed straight-sword with a single blade, its black outer coating magically etched with a flame pattern.

“Wow.” Hermir said breathlessly “Nice job mate!” she slapped Stross on the back.

“Nice job yourself. I probably would have messed this up super bad without your help.” Stross returned the compliment “So uh… how much will this cost? I’m kinda low on cash.”

“Oh don’t worry. You already bought my special armor, so this one’s on me.” She told him “And besides, it was worth it to get away from the grind of making fifty identical helmets and swords all day, every day. Just make sure to slay lots of baddies and beasties with that, eh?”

“You got it. Fenora’s gonna cleave Alduin in half with this thing.” Stross thanked her and left.

Hermir chuckled and shook her head. “He’s still goin’ on about that.”

Mercer did w0t m8?

A young boy sat alone in his empty house. There was little furniture, and that which was there was overturned or scattered across the floor in disarray.

In a small side bedroom, a boy by the name of Aventus Aretino knelt in the midst of a circle of candles, slowly burning out as more and more time passed. With him in the circle were the bones of some random person he’d dug up as he fled back home from Riften. A few strips of flesh and a mostly fresh heart lay inside the ribcage; he didn’t want to think back on how he got them.

“Sweet mother, sweet mother send your child unto me. For the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.” He chanted for what must have been the thousandth time as he stabbed the dagger coated in nightshade into the rotting effigy.

“What in Tartarus are you doing?!” a scratchy voice shrieked from behind him.

Aventus turned around, and to his absolute delight, the answers to his prayers stood before him. It was better than he could ever have hoped for; all those long hours, all the running and gathering body parts had been totally worth it.

“It’s you! You finally came!” he said with utter joy to the creature before him.

This creature had a pair of vicious white fangs and skin like the essence of the blackest night. Its claws were sharp, perfect for ripping flesh, and through its soulless and hollow blue eyes he could see no room for mercy, no hint of the possibility of remorse. He was perfect.

“I have your contract ready, I need you to kill Grelod!” pure despise dripped from Aventus’s voice as he spoke her name.

“Wait, contract? Kill? Your?!” Stross asked in confusion and horror “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah!” Aventus said excitedly “You’re an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood! I did the ritual, and you answered my summons, and you’ll kill Grelod the kind!”

Stross shook his head. “No, I’m not. I just heard from people around town that you were trying to perform some ritual, and since no one else was brave enough to try stop you, I came to talk you out of it.”

Aventus’s deflated as his hopes were crushed. “But… you. And the ritual… and the things.” He shook his head “No!” he shouted and went back to stabbing the skeleton “If you’re not the assassin I’m waiting for, then I’ll just have to keep doing the ritual until the real one comes. Grelod has to die!”

“St-stop that!” Stross yelled and ripped the knife away with his magic.

“Give it back!” Aventus yelled and weakly pounded his fists against Stross’s chest. “I have to kill her. I have to… I have to… she was so mean to us.” his punches slowly grew weaker and less frequent as tears spilled down his face, and he sobbed into Stross’s cloak and chainmail. “Please. She has to pay for the way she treated us, for what she’s still doing to my friends!”

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, just calm down and talk to me. Tell me what happened to you.”

Aventus sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “O- okay.” He paused for a moment to breathe “It all started when my mom died; she got sick last winter and never got any better, even the potions Nurelion made didn’t help. One day she went to sleep and… and then she didn’t wake up.”

“I’m sorry, that must have been hard.” Stross put a hand on the boy’s shoulder in sympathy.

“It was pretty bad. But it was nothing compared to what happened after.” Avnetus’s voice was suddenly filled with anger and he was visibly shaking. “Because my dad died in the war, I was all alone after that. So jarl Ulfric said I had to go to Honorhall, an orphanage in Riften. That’s where I met Grelod, the caretaker there. Everyone calls her Grelod the kind as some kind of stupid joke; she’s a monster and an evil witch!”

“Well there are some pretty bad people out there, I’ll admit. But to want someone dead…”

“Someone like Grelod doesn’t deserve to live one more day! She’s horrible to all of us, she calls us horrible names, makes us stay in that shack of an orphanage all day long, and tells us we’ll never be adopted because no one could ever love us!”

Stross’s eyes hardened at that last sentence, he stood up and clenched his fists. “You stay here kid. I’ll deal with this ‘Grelod the kind’ for you.”

“Yes! Thank you so much! Just make sure not to kill Constance while you’re there, she actually is nice to us.” Aventus called after Stross as he left before turning to the task of cleaning up the gigantic mess in his house.

Stross re-donned his disguise, walked through the streets of Windhelm and out the front gates, his face in a perpetual scowl. He couldn’t know for sure is Aventus was telling the whole truth about Grelod, or if his traumatic experience was making him embellish things, but he prayed to the Fallen that it was the latter. To tell anyone they could never be loved, especially children… it just made him boil under his skin.

“Sir, you seem to have spontaneously combusted.” One of the guards pointed out as he passed. “Try not to walk near any piles of hay.”

“Can do.” Stross grumbled.

Then he realized that he was on fire, and that was a bad thing. He dropped everything he was holding on to, screamed like a little girl and ran around in circles before diving off the bridge into the freezing river below.

Only he missed the actual water and landed on a rock instead.

But it wasn’t just a rock. It was a rock… Lobster!

*Dun nu, duh nu, diddily doo. Dun nu nu, dun nu duh nu, diddily doo.*

Rock Lobster!

…

Okay I’m done. Back to the story.

So after thanking his lucky stars for his changeling durability and healing factor, Stross collected his new gear and trudged through the snow towards the meeting place he had left Fenora and their newest (if temporary and quite possibly expendable) team member.

The place in question was an abandoned, run down house that was positively falling apart and covered in snow. It was filled with bandits when Stross had pulled Fenora out of the water, but Karliah managed to help with that. And by help, Stross meant that she sat hidden in a corner and took shots at them with her bow while he distracted them by being a meat piñata.

Pushing open the non-existant door, he found said elves sitting across a table from one another; Fenora was glaring at the Kerliah hatefully, while Karliah had a rather calm demeanor about her.

“I’m back!” Stross announced.

Fenora gave a small wave to welcome him.

“Ssoooo… wha’cha doin’?” he asked as he walked over to them.

Fenora raised a hand to halt his advance and kept glaring at Karliah, her eye twitching slightly as she maintained her unblinking assault.

“Is- is there a problem? Did something happen while I was gone that somehow made you even more mad at her?” Stross asked, forgetting for a moment that Fenora still couldn’t speak properly. “Was she complaining about stuff too much, or maybe you two tripped over each other? Did she want to see you naked again, ‘cause I know I’d want to. Or maybe-“

Fenora blinked.

Fenora proceeded to bang her head against the table and pound her fist against its surface.

“Yes! Five in a row!” Karliah threw her arms in the air in victory. “I’ve had to sleep with my eyes open for over two decades! Ya had no chance dragonborn, no chance.”

Fenora rolled her head around and gave Stross a look that asked “what took you so long?”

“I had some places to see and people to be. But check this out, you’re going to love this.” Stross said and pulled out the black duster armor, a smile coming to him when he saw Fenora’s eyes light up. “Go ahead, try it on.”

Fenora took it and moved behind one of the still intact walls. She shed the pile of blankets she was using and slipped it on, making a few adjustments here and there so that the armor-weaved coat held onto her body without slipping off or moving around too much.

She walked back out and held her arms out to her sides, giving a small twirl so Stross could she her front and back.

“You look awesome!” The changeling said as he gave a round of applause “Now I just need to find a tailor who can make a cowpony hat. Complete the look you know?”

Fenora smiled and gave a bow.

“Oh, and this. You’re going to love this.” Stross pulled the sword off his back and unwrapped it, holding it out for her to take.

“Woah.” Fenora breathed.

She curiously picked it up, surprised for a moment at how light it was. She held it at various angles to admire the unique design. Taking a few steps back, she took a few practice swings with it in various stances, starting slower and then building up her speed as she got a better feel for it. The sword was a bit long, almost awkwardly so, but it cut through the air easily and was light enough to quickly recover from longer reaching thrusts.

She turned back to Stross with a look that was a mixture of gratitude and wonder that asked either “How much did these even cost?” or “How many people did you have sex with for these?”

Stross nervously chuckled and averted his eyes. “Well umm… all of our septims?” he said unsurely “You’re not mad are-“

He was quickly cut off as Fenora pulled him into a hug. “They’re perfect Stross, thank you.” she said in a hoarse whisper.

Stross hugged her back, the waves of affection coming off her letting him know he’d done good. “Ready to get a tasty slice of vengeance?” he asked once they’d pulled apart.

Fenora nodded and sheathed her new sword before leaping over the nearest broken wall.

Stross turned to their third member, but found her hastily wiping tears out of her eyes. “You alright Karliah?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m fine I just-“ the dunmer sighed “Listen, if anyone other than Fenora ever asks you to come with them alone to an ancient buried ruin, don’t.”

With that, the three of them hopped on the horses Karliah had ‘acquired’ from the Windhelm stables, and rode off to Riften.

“This feels so weird!” Stross yelled as he clung to Fenora’s back while the gigantic steed galloped across the terrain. “Seriously, I used to live in a place full of talking horses! Granted they were a whole lot smaller and didn’t defy gravity as much, but still!”

“At this rate we’ll be in Riften within the hour!” Karliah called to them as they rode on “Just remember that Mercer likely got there first. Don’t expect a warm reception!”

“My loins are getting bruised!” Stross complained.

“I-I don’t know what you mean Sapphire, I thought you’d forgotten my debt.” Shadr stammered as Sapphire backed him against a wooden post of the Riften stables.

“Oh, I have forgotten them, your monetary ones at least.” Sapphire said seductively as she leaned in closer “But I’m here so you can pay up on a different kind of debt, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her eyebrows.

“I really don’t, just please don’t hurt me.” Shadr cowered.

“Ugh, I’m talking about sex, you numbskull!” Sapphire groaned.

However, before Sapphire could proceed to make the poor stable worker do various things for her entertainment, they were interrupted by the sound of hooves racing towards them. Turning to look, she immediately noticed a pair of faces she wasn’t particularly fond of.

“Oh great… it’s you jerkoffs. What do you even-“ she gave pause for a split second and her eyes widened when she saw who was with them “YOU! What in Oblivion are you doing here?!” she turned to our heroes “What is she doing here?”

“Mercer’s betrayed the Guild.” Fenora replied in a rasping whisper.

“It’s true, we’ve come to prove it and help you stop him.” Karliah told her “Take us to the others and I’ll explain everything.”

“You think I’m stupid? Why in the world should I let any of you get two steps from the gate?” Sapphire drew her switchblade, a replacement for the one Fenora took last time.

“We don’t have time for this crap. Stross…” Fenora signaled.

“Sorry about this.” Stross said before coughing up a blob of resin and using it to handcuff Sapphire to the stables. “Let’s get going ladies.”

“Hey! Get back here!” Sapphire yelled after them while they quickly walked off towards the city gates, tugging futilely against the gunk binding her wrist to the framework of the building. “Did this seriously just happen to me?”

“Well, you know.” Shadr twiddled his numbs “As long as you’re like that we could always-“

“Shut up. And get a freaking saw.”

After cocooning Maul and sticking him to a bench, the three of them made their way to the ‘secret’ entrance to the Ragged Flaggon. Fenora and Stross entered first and walked in front to provide a buffer between Kerliah and the entourage of Guild members who would kill her on sight.

“Yew’d better have a dern good reason to bring thaht murderer here!” Brynjolf glowered at them as the rest of the Flaggon crew stood at his side with their weapons at the ready.

“Please, lower your weapons so we can speak. I have proof that you've all been misled!” Karliah said and held out Gallus’s journal.

Brynjolf raised a brow and looked back to the other, who stared right back with slight shrugs. He motioned for her to step forward, and she did so. Brynjolf grasped the book in one hand, and with the other, he signaled to Vex, who grabbed Karliah and pressed a dagger to her neck.

“A’ight then, no tricks Karliah, or I’ll cut ya dune where ya stand.”

Brynjolf held the book at arm’s length as he opened it, half expecting it to be booby-trapped. When it turned out not to be, he looked over the pages. His eyes widened as they scanned back and forth across each page. By the time he was done, he was nearly speechless.

“Don’t leave th’ rest of us hangin’, Bryn? What’s in the book? What did it say?” Delvin asked for the rest of them.

“It... it canno’ be. This can't be true. It says Mercer's been stealing from our vault for years. Gallus was looking into it before he was murdered. Mercer snuffed him out.” Brynjolf said, barely believing the words coming out of his own mouth “And not jus’ him, anyone he even suspected knew the truth ‘bout him; Lil’ Jimmy, Nine-and-a-half Mike, Stitchy Delorah... Mercer mrdered all of them. I can’t believe this... He wouldn’t-”

“It's true, Brynjolf; every word.” Karliah tried to assure him of the harsh truth “Mercer's been stealing from the Guild for years, right under your noses. He never had honor like the rest of you.”

“There's only one way to find out for sure if what the lass says is true.” Brynjolf decided “Delvin, I'll need yer help ta open the Vault. Vex, keep thaht knife on Karliah. If she’s lyin’…”

Vex nodded, and they all followed Brynjolf’s lead into the Flaggon cistern.

Brynjolf stood before them as they reached the deep alcove housing the intricate doors to the Guild’s vault. Across the surface, it seemed like any ordinary door, but the whole Guild knew better, as it was chock full of complex mechanisms just under the surface. Just getting access to it required the skill of a master thief, so to anyone but the most Guild elite it might as well have been a solid wall.

“Al’ight, if what th’ lass says is true, Mercer has already gotten in, so let’s settle this once and for all. Delvin, your key first.” Brynjolf said as he stood ready with his.

“Well there’s my key, still locked up tight though. How could Mercer open up a vault that needs two keys?” Delvin asked “Could he ‘ave picked his way in some’ow?”

“Impossible,” Vex told him “That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy. There's no way it can be picked open.”

“He didn't need to pick the lock.” Karliah told him, only for Vex to shush her with the tightening of her blade grip.

“What is she on about?” Delvin asked “Will you ever stop bein’ so damned cryptic? Use your key on the vault, Brynjolf. We'll open it up and find out the truth.”

Brynjolf put his key in and turned it, but instead of opening the vault outright, it instead let them have access to the next layer of security in the shape of a multicolored dwarven cube with rotating layers.

“Okay then, let me see here…” Delvin cracked his knuckles and began working at the cube.

…

*Half an hour later*

“Alright. Done!” Delvin said, shoving the solved cube back into its slot.

A panel flipped out on the surface of the door, revealing a block of interweaving, black and white numbered rows. Beside it popped a pencil, indicating something needed to be filled out, and a text scroll of hints of what needed to be written.

“Ooh, I love these!” Stross said and took up the pencil “What’s a fourteen letter word for obnoxiously tedious?” he asked the collective of thieves.

“This stupid door.” Fenora rasped.

“Perfect.”

…

*Another three fucking hours later!*

“…Om-ni-potence.” Stross finished the last word as the last few stubborn members of the Guild had decided to either sit or lay down from exhaustion.

The tablets on the door flipped back inside and there was a whirring of gears, and many of the Guild members looked in anticipation of the vault actually opening. But to their dismay, yet another panel flipped open from the door. This one was a shiny black for a second before a colorful display appeared across its surface, accompanied by a catchy tune.

Suddenly a black, flame engraved sword plunged through the screen and was wedged through the crack in the door.

Fenora worked the blade through the mechanisms locking the door, destroying them in the process, but achieving the desired result all the same. She smirked and sheathed her sword which had not suffered a scratch as the vault opened up.

“By the Eight! It's gone, everything's gone! Get in here, all of you!” Brynjolf yelled as he looked around at all the empty and pillaged chests and crates.

“The gold, the jewels... this room was overflowin’, and now it's all gone.” Delvin said as he tipped over an empty jewelry box.

“I guess it was kinda wired how he was moving around at a crawl when he left this morning.” Dirge admitted.

“That son-of-a-bitch! I'll kill him!” Vex yelled and kicked an empty chest across the room “I’m going to shove coal so far up Mercer’s dick-hole he’ll be coughing up diamonds!”

“Vex! Calm yerself down. Right now lass. We can't afford to lose our heads... we need ta calm down and focus, find out how this happened.”

“I know exactly how.” Karliah chimed in “The skeleton key.”

A dark silence washed over the room at the mention of the sacred artifact, and the unspoken relation to the mistress of shadows herself; Nocturnal.

“The what now?” Stross asked obliviously.

Picking up the trail

*Hey everyone, a bit of exposition from Karliah. Hooray!*

The skeleton key, one of the two known artifacts of Nocturnal, the daedric prince of shadows and patron to thieves; it is the source of power in the Twilight Sepulcher, and the object that allows Nocturnal to bless us with our legendary luck so long as we remain loyal to her. As such, it is our sworn duty as her Nightingales to protect it.

Gallus and I swore to protect the key and watch over the Twilight Sepulcher, even in death. Mercer was once our friend, and took the oath alongside us, but somewhere along the line he lost his way, and betrayed us all to make the key his. Once Mercer had taken it and let his own greed consume him, Nocturnal abandoned us Nightingales and those of the Guild for breaking our contract, and now there’s no telling what Mercer will do. With that key he could be capable of nearly anything.

The skeleton key is no mere lockpick. Yes it can open any lock, yet its power is not limited to the physical realm; should one possess the knowledge to do so, he or she could even open the locks on their inner beings, freeing them from the inherent limits of mortals and allowing them to accomplish extraordinary things.

For the last twenty-five years I’ve tried to take Mercer down, but he was always a step ahead, and recently my best chance was wasted.

I curse my need to give lengthy, climactic speeches before getting anything done.

At least now I've re-earned the trust of the Thieves' Guild. But now my greatest hope to get revenge on Mercer, take the key back, return it to Nocturnal and restore mine and Gallus’s honor as Nightingales…

“Wait, why not just keep it?”

“Yeah, that unlocking your potential thing seems pretty sweet.”

“Who needs luck when you’ve got a key to every lock and all the skill in the world?”

…

Are a bunch of money-grubbing thieves and a pair of intrepid adventurers.

…

Why me, Nocturnal? Why me?

“I’ll tell you why we can’t keep it!” Karliah exclaimed at the others sitting around the tables at the Flagon “That kind of power is too dangerous to be left in the hands of the undisciplined. Even us Nightingales aren’t allowed to use it. Gallus and I took an oath, a contract with Nocturnal, to protect it from those who would so selfishly abuse its power. In exchange, Nocturnal watches over us all, and protects us with her luck.”

“Yeah but… skeleton key.”Delven reasoned, to which everyone else nodded in agreement.

Fenora raised her hand to call them all to attention, and then tapped Stross on the shoulder. With a nod, Stross took her form and spoke for her.

“It doesn’t matter what we do with it right now, because Mercer- sorry… that giant bucking prick Mercer, still has it. We should find out where he went, murder his ass and then figure out what to do with the key once it’s ours again.”

“Th’ lass an’ her bug have a mighty good point; we need t’ find Mercer. But now there’s no tellin’ where’ll be, he’s goh all our treasure, and all our plahns for our heists; he could be anywhere.” Brynjolf scratched his chin.

“I’ll round up our informants, see if we can scrounge up any leads.” Vex told them, stabbing her dagger into the table for nothing more than to emphasize her anger before taking her leave.

“While she’s doin’ thaht, yew an’ Stross aught t’ check Mercer’s house her in Riften for any clues.” Brynjolf told Fenora.

“Riftweald manor; I remember th’ place.” Delvin chimed in “I’ll go with ya. Been meaning to see the inside of that place for some time, if ya know what I mean.”

“Then it’s settled. Everyone has their jobs, let’s get to it.”

Vlad sat outside Riftweald manor sipping a bottle of mead and every so often chewing on a piece of stale bread, just as he’d done yesterday, and the day before that, and the week before, and the last several months past his ability to count.

The skinny nord let out a sigh of resentment towards his current situation, and towards the black-haired witch that kept him chained to it. Maven Black-briar; that woman had all of Riften in her pocket due to her funding the Thieves’ Guild during their current rough patch, and so she had practically all their resources at her beck and call.

In retrospect, borrowing that much money from Maven was never too bright an idea, but the chance to start his own shrubbery business was just too good to pass up. Unfortunately, after those mysterious knights dwelling in the forest stopped demanding them from wandering adventurers in favor of cutting down trees with fish, the fish market exploded, while he was sunk in debt.

Vlad would often daydream about what he would do if he weren’t tied down to this place. He stared off into the distance at the yard and envision a strapping man galloping across the fields on horseback, delving through long forgotten caves and ruins in search of treasure, sitting down at a crackling fire each night and telling of his bold journeys. He saw a bug-like creature in leather and chainmail burning through the lock on the gate to the yard, and-

Wait, what was that last one?

By Shor’s beard. Finally! It seemed this boring, dull as dishwater job had finally gotten interesting. Someone had actually found the stones to try and break into the house he so tenaciously guarded, and steal from the most feared and successful thief alive in Skyrim. And now was Vlad’s chance to stop them.

“Stop right there! You lot ain’t supposed to be here, now shove off before I have to clobber the lot of ya!” He yelled as he strode up to the one leading the pack, an elf woman in a flowing black coat. Perhaps scaring these brigands off would convince Maven to forget his debt. She might even turn him loose with a bit of payment for a job well-

*POW*

And just like that, his dreams were shattered with the jaw-crushing left hook the elf delivered to the side of his face, knocking him to the ground in a fit of overwhelming pain.

“Well that takes care of Mercer’s watch dog.” Fenora noted.

*Sh-ring**Kra-BAM*

“And that takes care of the back door.” She said after slicing the padlock and kicking the door practically off its hinges. “Alright boys, let’s get to searching. Let’s hope there’s something here.”

“Girl ain’t one for subtlety, is she?” Delvin asked Stross as they cautiously walked in behind her.

“Not really one for patience either.” The changeling replied.

After a few minutes of searching (emptying desks of papers, rummaging through clothes drawers, and flipping over tables for no other reason than to relieve some frustration) Fenora and the gang had sadly come up empty handed.

“Damn it!” Fenora threw a bottle of alto wine against the nearest wall. “There is nothing even in here, not even anything worth taking.”

“Seein’ how Mercer barely lived in this house, I’m hardly surprised.” Delvin muttered as he pocketed a few stray coins laying on a nightstand.

“Seriously?” Stross asked in amazement “He buys a giant house like this and doesn’t even live in it; what an egotist! Hey everypony, check out my swag!" he did a dumb impression of Mercer and let out a sigh "It’s a shame really, this place is nice… roomy too. Do you think Maven will let us have it once we stab Mercer in the butt?”

“You’ll have t’ take it up with her in person. I wish ya the best of luck with that.” Delvin chuckled.

“Will you guys take this seriously?!” Fenora scolded them, her throat burning in protest. “Think; if he doesn’t actually live here, what would Mercer use this giant place for?”

Fenora thought on it for a while, eyeing the cracks in the floorboards. It was when she noticed the spilled wine from the bottles she’d smashed earlier dripping through them that something clicked in her head. “Delvin, how many stories does this mansion have?”

“Just the two anymore.” Delvin answered “There used to be a basement, but it was sealed off due to water from the sewers leaking in.”

“Exactly,” Fenora snapped her fingers “that’s what he wants us to believe. I bet he’s using that basement to store whatever he doesn’t want the Guild knowing about. We need to get down there. Look around for a secret entrance or something.”

“If there was a secret Guild entrance, we probably would have found it already.” Stross reasoned as he watched Fenora tip over a bookcase.

“Not a Guild entrance Stross, an actual secret passageway.”

“Oh… that would make it harder to find.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Delvin asked indignantly.

So, with our heroes’ luck, they finally found the secret entrance to the basement, and wouldn’t you know… it was the last cupboard left to check.

There were of course a plethora of traps down there to dispose of anyone who’d somehow made it that far. They were pretty run of the mill traps for Skyrim, and yet Mercer had been inspired enough to put his own spin on things.

The pendulum blades, normally easy to avoid if you were quick, were placed in an area with waist-deep water with hidden snares underneath that slowed movement down to a crawl. The room with pressure activated fire-plates was lined with jars of highly combustible powder that would explode when the flames reached them. Even the poison dart throwers, some of the most non-threatening traps ever made so long as you wore any type of clothing, were instead loaded with armor piercing crossbow bolts that would rend you to pieces!

But for all his genius, Mercer made one crucial flaw in his design, a shut-off lever at the beginning of the gauntlet.

With a simple flick of the switch, the three of them were easily able to peruse their way through the gallery of otherwise deadly obstacles, and into the treasure room on the other side. It was then that they found some actual hard evidence that might lead to Mercer’s whereabouts, likely forgotten as he fled the city.

“Well well, he left behind a pretty nice sword.” Fenora said as she removed the malachite blade from its case.

“Now bear my arctic blatht.” Chillrend droned as though it were reading from a script.

Fenroa rolled her eyes and sheathed the talking blade before moving on. “It looks like this is what he was after, or at least what he was going over before he left.” she said as she looked over several rolls of parchment and scattered documents “We should get it back to Brynjolf, see if he can make any sense of it.”

“Hey, who’s this dashing fellow?” Stross asked, holding up the statue of a head, whether a male or female it was hard to tell, as the only thing truly defined was the cloth headcover it wore.

“Oh bless me fingers, that there is a bust of the Grey Fox!” Delvin said and took it from Stross, looking it over with an appraising eye “Mercer always did admire the Grey Fox, and rightly so. Y’ever heard the story?”

“Uh, I’m not from Nirn, so… no.” Stross answered, clearly wishing for Delvin to tell him.

Fenora called to them from the basement stairs, so Delvin and Stross followed, and the former told the story as they walked back to the Ragged Flagon.

“They Grey Fox was a legendary thief, able to elude any guard, avoid any trap, pick any lock! He was the epitome of thieves… or maybe she was, or they were; no one knows for sure because of the Grey Fox’s legendary headpiece, the Grey Cowl of Nocturnal.

“The cowl was supposedly ripped from the hands of Nocturnal herself long ago by a master thief. So spurned was the daedric prince, that she cursed the cowl to remove from history the one who wore it; their deeds, their memory, even their names were to be forgotten by all, and the cowl itself was to never be removed from the wearer’s head.

“But as always with these shifty deals the daedra offer, there was a caveat. One could remove the cowl, and in turn have the memory of their existence restored, should they find another to take up the mantle and vanish from history in their stead. One such occurrence happened in the town of Anvil in Cyrodiil, when the mayor of the town who had happened upon the cowl implored the Hero of Kvatch to take it from him. The hero did and became the new Grey Fox and leader of the Thieves’ Guild down there. To this day little is known of the hero Kvatch due to the effects of Nocturnal’s cowl, and the Grey Fox and the cowl continued to pass into legend.”

Stross clapped as the story came to a close and the three of them made to enter the Flagon.

Fenora led the way as they once again descended through the hidden entrance in the cemetery and into the stinking cistern that served as the Thieves’ Guild’s main base of operations. Most of the regular people were still there, buzzing about like a nest of hornets, swapping tidbits of information gleaned from their spies and rummaging through whatever documents Mercer hadn’t burned.

Brynjolf walked up to them with a confidant look on his face, an oddity considering the circumstances. “Well my friends, I hope you’ve found something because we’ve got jack-monkey-squat.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Stross asked, pointing out Brynjolf’s rather happy attitude.

“Well no. But on the bright side, I’ve just finished apologizing to Karliah about the whole thinking-she-killed-Gallus-and-hunting-her-down-for-the-last-two-and-a-half-decades thing. And you’ll be pleased to hear, she’s completely forgiven us.” Brynjolf put his hands on his hips victoriously.

“Well Mister Brynjolf, you apologize quite well.” Karliah commented from the storage closet “Now did you happen to see where my pants went during all that apologizing?”

Quite a few incredulous stares, dropped jaws, and raised eyebrows were given to Brynjolf that day, and he just nodded, commenting that he’d be very sore for days to come.

Once Fenora had handed Brynjolf the papers, he laid them out of the nearest flat surface and called everyone over as he sifted through them.

“Thaht son of a motherless goat!” Brynjolf cursed and slammed the papers onto the bar counter “Stealin’ from us wahs bad enough, but now Mercer’s jus’ spittin’ in our faces!”

“So what else do we have to skin him for.” Vex asked as she leant back in her chair, twiddling with her knife.

Brynjolf looked straight ahead, and spoke to the room in a slow and even tone. “The eyes of the Falmer.”

Everyone listening perked up and turned to attention.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Vex said in denial “He’s not really-“

“Oh he is lass, he is.” Brynjolf told her “And look at this note he left in the plans… ‘s’like th’ bugger wants us to follow him.”

“So what are the eyes of the Falmer?” Fenora asked.

“That lass, is a tale that begins with the snow elves of old, back when Tamriel was still rife with th’ conflict brought on by the Night of Tears. When-“

“Cliffnotes please!” Fenora interrupted.

“Fine! Basically there’s an old statue of a snow elf buried beneath an old Dwemer ruin and it’s got diamonds twice the size of your head for eyes. Gallus always wanted to go get them, for obvious reasons, but with all the dwemer traps and constructs guarding the place we could never find the resources for an actual attempt to retrieve them.” Brynjolf explained “Now Mercer’s gotten tha gall an’ tha balls to try and take them alone, daring us to follow; he’d be set for life and we’d never find him again!”

“Well if he actually does want us to follow, he’s probably set up an ambush for us, like he did for Gallus and the others.” Fenora deduced “I don’t care how good he is or what magic powers that key gave him. Let’s not keep him waiting, I say we all go there and swarm his cocky ass. With that many of of us, we’ll finish him off easy.” Fenora pounded her fist on the table.

"Hah, sure. Have fun with that." Vekel the man, the Flagon's bartender chuckled "We're not warriors or assassins, we're thieves and fences."

“Aye, but the lass is right. I say that this's our best bet if not our only one, we've got enough skilled fighters to take down one man.” Brynjolf countered “Delvin, we need you to hold down the fort. Vex you’re coming with us, we’ll need your killer instinct, and get Maul and Dirge, tell them to suit up. The Dragonborn, Karliah, the changeling, and myself will meet you at the stables. From there, we’ll ride to… Irking… ira-kir… Iknrithraid? Bah! The Dwemer ruin where Mercer went, fook these stupid Dwarfish words!”

Less than an hour later, the seven of them had arrived just outside the dwemer ruin. Fenora and Karliah led the way with their bows at the ready, Stross followed closely behind them as they scouted ahead. Fenora’s ears perked up at every wisp of wind and chirp from the nearby birds as they quietly stalked up the path; any one of those sounds could be Mercer, patiently waiting to pick them off one by one.

“Hold up.” Stross halted them as they reached the precipice of the hill “I’m sensing life ahead, it’s very weak… fading fast.”

“I too sense something.” Karliah mentioned “There is a foul smell in the air; it is the smell of blood.”

The three of them peeked over the hill and into the courtyard of the ruin below. What greeted them was a horrific sight. It seemed as though the ruin of Irkinstrad was not abandoned, or home only to dwarven machines; a rather large group of bandits had made it their base. Now, dozens upon dozens of them were either dangling from balconies by the ropes around their necks, or lay strewn about on the ground in glistening pools of their own blood.

Even more were reduced to nothing more than butchered body parts that littered the ground, and it seemed as though not even the unfortunate travelers that were held captive by the band of criminals were spared this gruesome fate, evidenced by the open cages and the smears of blood leading from them.

Signaling to Brynjolf and the others, their group cautiously moved to the blood-soaked entrance.

“Mercer’s work?” Fenora asked as she prodded a dismembered bandit with her sword, showing no sympathy for the criminals and marauders.

“Can’t be, not even Mercer could do all this by himself, he had to have had help.” Vex said as she sifted through some piles of gods knew what.

“I’m telling you, it’s the key.” Karliah said “I’m beginning to think we were foolish to come here.”

“Guys! We’ve got a live one over here!” Stross called and continued to cast his healing magic, giving his best attempt to stabilize the child, no older than twelve who’d had both his legs torn off and was limply propped up against the wall of a tent. “You’re going to be okay. Can you talk? What happened here?” Stross asked.

The boy coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood, indicating he no longer had his tongue.

“It’s alright, just take it easy.” Stross said gently.

Suddenly the child’s eyes shot open, wide with fear as his senses came back to him. “Geh awah!” He screamed and weakly shoved Stross with what precious little strength remained in him “RRRUUUHH!” he yelled in warning before violently exploding, spraying gore and shrapnel everywhere.

The others were quite a few paces back, and Stross took the brunt of the explosion. But the shards of metal didn’t faze him nearly as much as the sheer horror of seeing an innocent child you were trying to save blown to bits right in front of you.

After that initial explosion, the rest of the bombs Mercer had planted triggered, and every other dead body in the camp was liquefied and turned into a rain of blood and skin that poured down on our heroes and their thief allies, sending them diving for any cover they could find. Once the rain of gore had concluded, several deer hides above the entrance to the ruin unfurled into a banner with a thoughtful message from Mercer Fray: “I hope you enjoy the taste of blood, because I look forward to drowning you in your own. -M”

As the thieves collected themselves and wiped the blood and bits of flesh from the uniforms in disgust, Fenora rushed over to Stross, who was still sitting where the boy had shoved him, eyes wide and breathing extremely heavily.

“Stross, are you alright? Anything hurt?” Fenora asked as she wiped the blood off his face and forehead.

“They didn’t deserve this.” Stross said blankly “He butchered them.”

Fenora scoffed. “I know, and Mercer’s going to pay for-“

Stross abruptly stood and shoved Fenora away. “Mercer’s going to BURN!” he screeched as he ignited in a pillar of flame, boiling off the blood that covered him.

Stumbling and bumbling through Irkngthand

*Bong* sounded a noise like a muted drum in the darkened space.

*Bong!* it sounded again slightly louder this time.

With a screeching of metal, the dark interior of the dwemer ruin which was normally lit only by the ancient and broken down spark braziers was suddenly flooded with light as the massive metal doors were pulled open. In walked a company of thieves, followed by an elf and her buggy friend.

“Maybe you should leave kicking in doors to me, huh Stross?” Fenora said with the slightest smirk as she watched Stross limp forward.

“I… don’t care! I’m gonna… tear Mercer’s… non-existent heart out!” Stross yelled as he continued hobbling forward, reaching the front of the pack and scanning the area like a wild, starving predator.

He took to the air and began noisily tearing apart anything laying about the room in his bloodthirsty search; dwarven machinery, dwarven metal pieces, more dead bandits, the beds those dead bandits were sleeping on. All the while he loudly muttered curses about Mercer, stray patches of flame still clinging to him in places after his earlier outburst waiting to be rekindled into his burning halo once he finally found his prey.

“Stross, cool it will ya lad?” Brynjolf called “We’re tryin’ t’ hunt a man down, not announce we’re comin’ for him.”

“I’m too pissed off to cool it!” Stross yelled and chucked a dwarven urn across the room when he found Mercer was not hiding within.

Fenora walked over, yet kept her distance due to the intensity of the flames. “Stross, please. I’m pissed too right now, we all are. But all you’re doing right now is wasting energy, literally.” Fenora warned him “Just… I don’t know, bottle up your anger until we’ve found Mercer.”

“Oh I’ll bottle it up all right.” Stross said with his voice full of hate “I’ll bottle it up and when the time is right I’ll whip it out and slap him across the face with it. I’ll use it to bring that bastard to his knees. I’m going to unleash my rage all over his face! I’m gonna get it in his mouth and shove the whole giant flaming thing down his throat!”

“What am I hearing over there?” Vex called as she scouted ahead.

“Blatant sexual innuendo!” Stross yelled, shaking his fists in the air.

Not too much further into the ruin, the company stopped.

“Well would ya look at this?” Delvin said as he wiped the dust off an old treasure chest sitting atop a table directly in their path “Let’s see what bit of loot yur hidin’ little boxy friend.”

Karliah’s eyes went wide as she realized it was an obvious trap. “Delvin, don’t!” she shouted.

But Delvin had already popped the lid and immediately a ticking began. Delvin scrambled away while everyone else jumped back and held their breath, waiting for something to happen. Only nothing did. Several seconds later the ticking ran out, and Delvin crept forward to peek inside the chest.

“Oh ain’t that just a kick in th’ pants? It’s just a bloody windup toy!” he threw the cheap plaything to the ground.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Karliah muttered to herself “Why would… Oh no…”

The chest turned out to have been a distraction, and the real trap was up above them all along, hung from a great many strings to delay the time spent as they burned. Two dozen large urns of dwemer oil fell to the ground as the fuses suspending them burned and snapped, dousing our company of heroes in the rancid burning liquid.

Fortunately, just down the hallway, they saw their salvation in the form of an ancient boiler room whose water tanks had burst long ago, flooding the room waist deep.

All seven of them ran as fast as they could towards the pool of glistening clear water, plunging themselves in and allowing it to remove the still-burning oil from their bodies.

“Fuck!” Fenora swore as she came up for air “Are you kidding me with-” She stopped her sentence however when she and a few of the others noticed the device dangling from the ceiling. “Is that a toaster?”

As if on cue, the gigantic dwemer toaster powered up. The soul gems and gyros on its side started whirring and the whole thing erupted in sparks as the first of its suspension cables snapped.

“Erryone oot of the water!” Brynjolf yelled.

But as he said that the gates to the boiler room to slid closed with a heavy clang, blocking their exit.

“Shit! Catch it; don’t let it touch the water or we’re fried!” Vex ordered.

Maul and Dirge being the largest, sloshed their way through the water as another suspension cable snapped. The two were joined by Delvin, Brynjolf, and Vex by the time the electrified box had finally fallen. The five of them together just barely managed to catch it and stop it from landing in the pool, but were straining greatly under its weight.

“Hold on!” Karliah yelled and began pulling pieces of metal from the device.

Stross joined her, ripping out the gears and soul gyros. And yet the machine persisted, throwing sparks everywhere. “It’s no good, we can’t stop this thing!” Stross yelled as the thieves’ felt their knees begin to buckle.

“I’ve got this.” Fenora said and pulled herself out of the water, standing on a ledge above them as she spoke the words “Fo… Krah… DIIN!”

With the words of frost uttered, a blizzard formed in the boilery. The freezing gale overtook all before her and the ripples in the water finally stopped in the wake of sub-zero temperatures. Once the winds had stopped and the frost had settled, Fenora stepped down onto the icy surface.

“Okay, the water’s frozen. You guys can drop the thing now.” she told them.

“Sh-s-sh-sure lass. But now we’re f-f-frozen t-too!” Brynjolf managed to say through shivers. “Ya d-daft b-b-broad!”

“Oh…” Fenora scratched the back of her head “Sorry?”

So while Fenora’s snap decision had technically saved their lives, being blasted with a gale of cold while drenched from the waist up, and at the same time being frozen from the waist down, was not the most pleasant experience. Something Vex was eager to remind her of.

“I’m just saying. Think twice before you give us all the literal cold shoulder.” The imperial woman said with an icy glare as Stross and Fenora worked on defrosting them all with their magic and thu’ums.

“What, not used to getting cold feet? Or do you just not like to chill out? Didn't you tell me a thief needs to be cool under pressure?” Fenora snarked. “Ow! Okay, I deserved that.”

“Man, been a while since I’ve been that cold.” Dirge commented “I think I felt my balls shrink back into my body.”

“I know, like reverse puberty.” Maul agreed.

“Why do you guys have to keep saying stuff I can never unhear!?” Vex yelled.

“We must keep moving, before Mercer can escape us.” Karliah said and started to move on without them.

“Escape us?!” Brynjolf gawked at her “Were ya here a few minutes ago when this happened? He’s just toyin’ with us! If anathin’ we need to escape him before he gets serious aboot killin' us.”

“No way.” Vex said with steely determination “He set up some traps and we fell for them, that’s all. He knows us, and he knows what we’re like. So no more mucking this up; no more pinching shiny things, no more ignoring obvious traps, and… though I hate to say this, no getting mad and rushing in once we've cornered him. Alright?”

Each on the others gave their nods of agreement and started picking themselves up.

"To think I've been telling the rookies this all the time back at the Flaggon." Vex said to Fenora "I swear it was true that you're the first new recruit to take anything seriously."

"Well, great minds think alike." Fenora responded with a knowing grin "And they also tell the not-so-great minds to shut up and listen."

The two of them shared a chuckle as the last of the ice melted off their clothes.

The next area they found themselves in was less of the sophisticated and steam-punkish metalworks, and more of a cave filled sporadically with odd tents and various dwemer constructs. But most amazing was the ceiling of the cave; it was like someone took ore and gemstones and used them to paint the night sky on the ceiling of rocks.

“Would ya look at that?” Delvin asked the others.

“Never seen anything quite like that before. Eh Drige?” Maul asked his brother.

“Maybe when I was takin’ skooma.” Maul told him.

“We’ll have t’ come back later with some ladders and picks.” Brynjolf said to himself, already drawing up plans in his head.

It was at that point that Stross noticed something moving in the distance. Staring through the metal grate they were all currently behind, he saw some form of creature wander out of one of the oddly formed tents in the shallow chasm below.

“What is that?” he asked as he watched the gangly pale creature sparsely covered in chitinous scales stumble out across the ancient stone floor. “I thought Skyrim didn’t have changelings.”

“That isn’t a changeling like you. It’s a Falmer.” Karliah told him “They were once the prosperous snow-elves that lived in Skyrim long before the Nords came. When the wars with man left until them scattered and on the brink of extinction, they turned to their brethren that dwelt below the earth. It was their one chance to survive, and the Dwemer betrayed them; they became the victims of cruel experiments, tortured and mutilated until they became the blind monstrosities you see now.”

Stross kept looking at the creature below, pity for the poor wretched thing overtaking him. He could feel a great deal of sympathy for it, as the Falmer and changelings were not so different in his eyes; both were once great and prosperous races brutally destroyed and changed forever, albeit by different methods and for different reasons.

But then something gave him cause to smile, as another of the pale-skinned creatures scampered over. The two Falmer greeted each other through a series of screeching noises followed by a mutual head-butt. Afterwards one left, but returned shortly, dragging behind it the carcass of what looked like some large mammal, likely a deer.

Though the sight and noises the Falmer made as they tore into the animal disgusted him greatly, Stross found it warming (in a morbid kind of way) to see the two savage creatures enjoying a simple pleasue together. So enthusiastically devouring the bright red… gushing meat with their… bare talons… getting the blood all over the floor-

*Ghm-Blehrg*

“Oh by Celestia, at least cook the thing first!” Stross yelled after he finished spewing resin into a nearby dwarven urn.

“Wait, what is that? Behind them.” Karliah asked as she spotted a shadow skulking around.

The silhouette seemed to notice them as well, as it perked up and gave a friendly wave in their dirention before turning its attention back to the Falmer, who were too distracted by their meal to notice it. There was a glint of metal and two screeches of pain and distress before the two Falmer fell limply to the floor.

The shadowy figure stepped into the dim light with the cockiest grin imaginable.

“Mercer!” Karliah pounded her fists against the grate.

“Bah, there’s no way t’ get to em from here!” Brynjolf cursed. “Oh look at thaht, yew mutha’ fooker!”

Indeed, Mercer seemed delighted in the chance to taunt them further, and had picked up the two dead Falmer, hoisted their limbs over his shoulders, and started dancing the can-can.

After he got tired of that he dropped the bodies unceremoniously off the ledge and gave a jeering salute, followed by flipping them the bird before once again disappearing into the shadows.

“That sonova bitch is just showing off now, I’m gonna kill him twice.” Vex muttered. “Someone find a way around this stupid cage!”

“I’ll do better.” Stross stated and flared up, burning through the metal grate with his bare hands.

By the time Stross had melted a hole big enough to climb through, Mercer had already had a decent head start. So when they found him simply standing in the middle of an archway, hands on his hips, it was almost enough to give them pause.

“Nocturnal, guide my hand.” Karliah whispered a prayer as she knocked an arrow and released it.

The metal tipped stick sailed through the air right towards Mercer’s face, but suddenly it stopped, mere inches from its mark. Mercer had caught it with nothing but his hand!

The thieves stood there in disbelief as he calmly picked his teeth with the tip. But Stross wasn’t about to let him get away.

“Mercer!” he yelled as he charged forward, his body aflame and his voice full of death.

Mercer stood perfectly still as the changeling rushed up to him. But as Stross wound his arm back and the flaming punch was thrown, the gears on the sides of the door suddenly stopped spinning. Spears of Dwemer metal shot up from the ground and Stross clenched his teeth in pain as his arm was impaled on one of them.

Mercer shook his head and wagged a finger at Stross in a disapproving manner.

“Screw you with a cactus!” Stross yelled and shot a cone of flame from his still impaled limb.

Mercer jumped back in surprise and had to back away in order to avoid the jet of flame, but he remained unscathed. Then as the rest of the thieves made it to the gate, he blew a raspberry at them and ran off cackling.

“Shit… shit… shit. Get back here and burn you asshat!” Stross shouted as he tried to pull his arm free, though all this accomplished was tearing a larger hole in his flesh.

“Stross! Hold still you crazy bug, we’ll get you out of there. Stop tearing your arm apart, idiot!” Fenora tried to calm him down, and failed miserably.

“Guys, we’ve got bigger problems.” Maul warned them as he and Dirge readied their warhammers.

Each of them turned to see at least a dozen eyeless forms stalking towards them from the darkness.

“Ah shi- there’s too many of tha buggers.” Brynjolf said as he drew his blades and eyed the falmer as they approached in hopes that there might be a break in their ranks “We’ll have to fight our way out.”

As Brynjolf and Vex joined Maul and Dirge up front, and Karliah readied her arrows, Fenora drew her blade and stood defensively next to Stross, hoping she could free him without resorting to chopping his arm off. The seven- er… six of them stood ready to blunt the horde of falmer closing in (Stross kept trying to pull his arm off).

The lead falmer who was wearing the most armor stepped forward slowly. It turned its head to the right and let out a high-pitched chirp. Once it did, another falmer on a higher ledge pulled a lever and the gears on one side of the door began spinning again.

The falmer repeated this gesture to its left and another lever was pulled, lowering the gate of spears and freeing Stross’s arm with only minimal slicing as the spearhead passed through his wound again.

“What the ‘blivion?” Fenora said dumbfounded and gave Stross a healing potion “Did those things just… help us?”

“That would be unheard of.” Karliah said, not lowering her guard “The falmer have always resented those who dwell on the surface; they only wish to destroy us.”

The thieves looked at the shifting ranks of Falmer, not really sure what to make of the situation until one of the pale creatures tentatively stepped forth. The thieves raised their weapons, hesitant to strike as the thing scrabbled along the ground towards them.

Karliah and Vex were both poised to strike as it passed by the front lines, yet the falmer continued forward without fear. It slowed considerably once it reached Fenora however, and it nervously teetered back and forth. Fenora was equally unsure of what to do, this falmer was unarmed and didn’t seem exactly hostile, and they’d just technically helped them. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t a murderous, foul-smelling, abomination-

“Hey little guy, come here. What is it?”

“Oh Stross. Why? Just why.” Fenora face-palmed as the famler rushed over.

The pale, goblin-like creature sniffed curiously at the buggy goblin-like creature for a moment. It then started patting Stross all over, literally getting a feel for him. Finally it opened its mouth and dragged its slobbery tongue across Stross’s face.

“Daw, I think it likes me.” Stross chuckled.

“Oh great, not another one” Fenora grumbled.

The falmer raised its head and let out a gurgling call from its throat, and at once the others of its kind rushed through the group’s defensive line, scurrying across the walls and dropping from higher ledges so they could each get a taste of the changeling like a bunch of gangly hideously deformed puppies.

“Hehaha, get them off!” Stross yelled as he flailed on the ground under a pile of falmer “Heheh-ho stop it, it tickles! Hey, I- OUCH! That one bit me!”

Suddenly all of the falmer stopped, and after a quick conversation of hisses and growls each of them dashed off down the open hallway on all fours. All save for one, who stayed behind with our heroes and the group of thieves.

Stross stared at the falmer.

Not knowing what direction it was supposed to be facing, the falmer stared back at a wall.

“Do you… want us to follow you?” Stross asked, looking to the others to jump in any time “Or maybe we’re supposed to- Gah, okay! I can walk on my own! Put me down!”

Everyone else just stared on in disbelief as the little falmer grabbed Stross’s arms and slung him over its back before hopping off with him.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. After them!” Fenora ordered them, a bag of popcorn somehow appearing in her hands.

It was pretty amazing how quickly the falmer could move in their own territory. By the time Fenroa and the thieves had caught up to the group of falmer that had changeling-knapped Stross, they had been led through several more abandoned dwemer halls ridden with spike traps and mushrooms.

Finally they came to a huge cavern with several levels of stone platforms and columns that reached towards the ceiling. Filling nearly every available surface in the massive cave was no less than an entire legion of falmer, clinging from the sides of the structures and clamoring together in a mosh-pit, their excited screeches were nearly deafening.

“Naow wha’ do ya suppose it is they’re goin’ on about?” Brynjolf asked as the group stalked closer for a better view, none of them bothering to be quiet due to the already prevalent noise.

“Whatever it is, it’s driving me insane!” Vex complained, covering her ears trying to shut out the grinding sounds.

From one of the higher towers within the cave, Fenora and Karliah were able to get a pretty good look at the situation. Every falmer seemed to be gathered before a cluster of tents slightly larger in size than the rest they’d seen. Out from one of these tents stepped a falmer far bigger than the rest, standing nearly as tall as a man even when hunched over as its kind did. It let out a deep bellow that echoed through the cave and into the halls.

Every other falmer went silent, and their leader turned back to the tents, giving a bark as if to beckon forth another.

And another did come forth, two actually. Fenora immediately recognized Stross among them, walking calmly to look over the horde of falmer, his eyes straight ahead. Next to him was a falmer in a cloth robe that dragged behind it as it limped. This one seemed older and much more frail, an elder perhaps.

“What is he doing?” Karliah asked.

“I’m not sure.” Fenora answered as she watched Stross stand above the horde, wondering whether to help him, or even if she could fight that many at once.

Stross took a deep breath and held out his right hand, which the elderly falmer took in its shaky grasp and placed upon its forehead. There was a moment of stillness, and then Stross began to speak.

“Falmer, snow elves of old, hear my voice.” Stross spoke clearly and firmly.

The elder then released a series of noises for every word Stross spoke, to which the gathered crowd listened intently.

“I have seen the destruction brought upon you, both in the past and the present, and I feel your sorrow. No living being should be forced to suffer so, and I shall not stand by and allow this misery to be inflicted upon you, not when you have already suffered so much.”

As Stross spoke, every word was translated through the elder. And though much was lost in translation, feeling was universal, and every falmer present would have begun to cry had they not lacked their eyes.

“I… I am not a god, nor any being of knowledge or power. But I wish to make right what is wrong, no matter how small the act may be. Should you trust in me, I shall lead you! For justice! For vengeance! Rise now, my heart-bound brethren!”

A bright green pulse of light emanated from the changeling, and a chorus of cheers and battlecries rang out in the cavern as the falmer raised their weapons into the air. They cheered even louder than before if that was possible.

“Holy ‘blivion, he’s just inspired a flipping army to follow him into battle.” Fenora said as she munched on the last of her popcorn, hardly believing what she was seeing “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you Stross?”

At that moment, Stross looked up and noticed them all sitting there enjoying his speech. “Oh hey guys!” He waved to them while every falmer went quiet and turned to face them as well “I have minions now!”

The fight for the eyes of the Falmer

“Uh, should we be running now?” Maul asked “Not that I don’t think we can take them all, but…”

“We don’t think we can take them all.” Dirge finished.

As they spoke, the Falmer had already gotten their bows ready, along with any other random garbage they found to be easily throw-able.

“Whoa, whoa minions, no!” Stross yelled and kept his hand on the elder falmer’s forehead “These ones are frieeeends. Okay? They’re gonna help too. They’re cool, totally chill.”

The elder squawked a few times to the mob and they all settled down a bit.

Then they climbed the walls and gave Fenora and the thieves some ratty blankets. And there were many face-palms to be had that day.

Moving through the dwemer ruins was a bit slow and difficult even with how large and spacious the doors were. Our two heroes led the way, followed by an entourage of thirty-or-so falmer. The thieves meanwhile picked up the rear from a respectable distance, offhandedly mentioning something about a putrid smell.

“So… these things follow you now?” Fenora asked, staying as close as she could to Stross while a couple of the falmer scurried past them.

“First off, they are not things as you call them. They’re the remnants of a once glorious race that was hunted to extinction and warped into what others see only as vile and unclean monstrosities, but on the inside they’re still compassionate beings that just need to be given a chance.” Stross lectured “They’re not so different from changelings in that regard, if we-“

“They eat human flesh Stross.” Fenora interrupted “They drag travelers and treasure hunters down into their caves and carve them up for food.”

“Well… yeah, I guess they do that sometimes.” Stross admitted “But now I’m their leader! …or something. I can train them to eat chicken, and elk, and stuff besides people.”

“Good luck with that. But back to the matter at hand, why are they helping us? Why follow you in the first place?”

Stross thought on that for a moment, deciding how best to explain it. “Well… from what I learned from that mind trip their elder sent me on, they seem to think I’m one of their kind that’s managed to recover from their hereditary blindness, overcome their curse. And they think that I can cure them somehow, probably because I saved their elder from dying when they dragged me to their camp.”

“Do you think you can?” Fenora asked.

“I honestly don’t think so. I can heal and channel life energy to repair damage to the body, but this is their true form now, how they are naturally. I’d have to magically bend and break them if I wanted to turn them back into snow elves, and I can’t do that. I hate to say it, but the falmer, or at least this generation, are stuck like this.”

Stross let out a long sigh. “As for why they’re helping us kill Mercer… well you’re about to see.”

An acrid smell came from the area that now lay before them, along with plumes of black smoke that rose into the air and clung to the low ceiling, making it hard to breathe.

Along the walls of the cave were mushrooms and moss that grew with help from the water leaking down form the old dwemer pipes. More falmer tents lined the edges of the cave, yet as they traversed deeper in, more and more of them were burned down. The charred corpses of large insectoid creatures littered the ground inside closed off pens, large wounds in their shells evident from where they were brutally cleaved by a large blade.

The falmer slowed their pace, and stepped slowly and deliberately around the smoking wreckage, a silent and solemn reverence overtaking them as they passed by several larger tents and the tiny skeletons that lay inside.

“This place was important to them.” Stross whispered “It was where they farmed their food, got their water… and raised their young. One guess who burned it all down when it was in his way.”

Fenora said nothing, but nodded and continued with a deepened scowl.

Soon the group reached a large pair of double doors, and Stross could sense Mercer’s putrid life-force on the other side. With the last of his restraint holding, he signaled for the others to stop.

“He’s on the other side, probably waiting for us. We need to be ready.” He told them.

“I’ve been waiting twenty-five years for this.” Karliah muttered as she readied her bow.

At that time, a large contingent of falmer split off from the main group, climbing up the walls and into a great many small tunnels. This left only five still with the thieves.

“Where are they going? Don’t tell me they’ve chickened out on us.” Vex said while she got her daggers and throwing knives ready.

Stross put his hand to the nearest falmer and let its feelings flow into him. “Oh, I see. The area with the statue is big, and they’re moving to surround Mercer and cut off any escape.”

“Roight then, here’s tha plan.” Brynjolf said as they gathered around “Mercer’s skilled, and with that key he stole there’s no tellin’ how powerful he’s gotten. But he’s still just one man. Fenora, Karliah, and Vex will hold back and keep him on tha defensive with yer bows. Stross lad, I need ya ta limit his movement with yer flames, create a wall or somethin’ with ‘em. Meanwhile Maul, Dirge and I will move in and give th’ bugger a good hammering.”

“And what happens if that isn’t enough?” Karliah asked, wisely thinking they should plan ahead.

“Then the rest of you get back and I’ll shout him to pieces with my thu’um. Stross can keep him from getting up and I’ll drive my blade right through his stupid face.” Fenora told them.

"Let's go finish this." Karliah took the lead.

“Right, it’s not a plan.” Stross said “But it’s a perfect plan.”

The massive double doors were pushed aside, and our heroes and their allies stepped into the cave. Rows of stone pillars interlaced with dwemer waterpipes held up the ceiling. A dim blue light shone down into the room from a perfectly circular hole in the ceiling, fitted with a glass dome that revealed they were under a lake.

From the platform they were standing on, they got a perfect view of the temple-like space with a huge statue of dwemer metal resting its back against the far wall. The shape of which was quite different from the bulky and rigid designs of the dwemer, and instead focused on a more chiseled and smooth feel.

This was the statue of the great race that was the snow elves, sitting there in its calm and regal manner, a book in one hand and a staff in the other. And standing smugly on the ridge of its nose was Mercer Frey, murderer and traitor, juggling the statue’s diamond eyes.

Upon spotting our company, he caught the eyes and shoved them into a satchel which he tossed aside for later.

“Well well. If it isn’t the so called dragonborn and her intrepid little roach of a companion.” Mercer jeered “And I see you’ve brought those slimy, smelling creatures along to help bring me down… and the falmer too.”

“The fuck did he just say?” Vex snarled.

“Easy lass, remember tha plan.” Brynjolf calmed her “It’s over Mercer! Your deception and treachery ends here and now!”

“So old friend, what nonsense has Karliah been telling you and the rest of the Guild? Did she make you think that Nocturnal is the only one capable of looking out for us?!” Mercer yelled “With this key, my skills will be unmatched; I’ll have all the wealth I could ever need and no one in the world can stop me! It’s clear none of you would ever have the guts to do the same!” he spat.

“You went far too far Mercer! Wealth is one thing, but no amount of coin could compare to the lives of those who trust and care about you!” Karliah screamed “You will pay for what you did to my Gallus, Nocturnal shall ensure it.”

“Gullus was a fool! Did you really think he-“

“God’s damn it, no more of this overly-long dialogue bullcrap!” Fenora yelled and fired an arrow at Mercer.

It sailed through the air and reached Mercer in a second, but he slapped it away with the back of his hand almost casually.

“Hah, this one doesn’t mess around.” Mercer laughed “I almost admire that really. And now the die is cast!”

Then with a snap of his fingers the fuses on the bombs planted below their feet lit on fire and the platform they were all standing on exploded. Mercer jumped down to the ground and slowly began to stride over.

“Stick to the plan!” Brynjolf yelled as they recovered, and charged in with Maul and Dirge at his sides.

The two massive thug brothers swung their warhammers at their former Guild Master, but he ducked and sidestepped their swings with what looked to be the greatest of ease. Then in the second the two were off balance, he drove his dagger into Maul’s arm and ripped away his weapon, which he then used to take out Dirge’s left leg with a sickening snap.

Not even a moment later, Brynjolf was up to bat and lashed out with his shortswords, attacking Mercer in a flurry of swipes with a lust for vengeance behind every swing and stab.

Mercer drew his own sword in response and barely batted an eye as he dodged and parried Brynjolf’s strikes.

After another few seconds of sparring their blades clashed and Brynjolf gritted his teeth while Mercer looked over their crossed steel with an almost manically smug grin.

“Shoot him now!” he yelled to the archers behind him, jumping back as the arrows were let loose.

“Oh no you don’t.” Mercer said and pulled Brynjolf back by the blades of his swords to be used as a meat-shield.

Three arrows lodged themselves in Brynjolf’s torso and he yelled in pain. Mercer then spun him around to deliver a savage head-butt, toppling him to the ground. “You always were slower than me.” he taunted.

“Oh screw this!” Vex cursed and tossed aside her bow in favor of her trusty daggers and charged in.

“Vex wait! Fen wait! What about the plan? Hold, my falmer minions! Why won’t anyone listen to me?!” Stross screamed as they all abandoned him and charged into battle.

“Wuld nah KEST!” Fenora shouted and a blast of wind propelled her forward as she wound up a slashing strike with her sword.

Even with her speed, the second she reached Mercer he deflected her sword, smacked her on the forehead with his pommel and kicked her away so he could deal with the other threats while she recovered.

That next threat happened to be Vex throwing a one of her knives at him, hoping to catch him off guard long enough to get him with a lunge from her other dagger.

He caught both the knife she threw and her wrist as she made a downward stab for his throat. Taking advantage of Vex’s now broken stance, Mercer twisted her arm behind her back until he heard a pop and then drove her own knife into the opposite shoulderblade.

By that time the five Falmer were upon him brandishing their wickedly serrated knives. With one glance at them he swung his sword in a broad arc that instantly decapitated three of them, and the remaining two were just as easily cut down.

“Did you honestly think this would be easy?!” Mercer said victoriously as he swaggered back and forth between a salvo of blazing arrows that exploded around him.

Stross rushed up to him ablaze in his burning halo with a sword of fire that would easily burn through both armor, or any weapon used to parry.

“The skeleton key has unlocked my full potential. I’ve never seen things more clearly!” Mercer laughed as he backstepped Stross’s attack and harshly smacked him in the face with the flat of his sword. He stepped forward to the changeling as he was stunned and delivered a right hook that sent Stross to the floor where he then stomped the downed changeling’s head under his boot.

“I can see and hear everything around me now; every move you make, every step you take, anything you can throw at me and every muscle that twitches on your bodies, I can see it all! Which means…” Mercer spun around to catch Fenora’s sword as it would have run him through, pulling it out of her grasp and stabbing her through the leg with it “You can’t sneak up on me!”

“Damn it!” Fenora grunted through her teeth as she tried to pull the blade out of her tibia “What do you think will happen when I’m gone huh? Who’s gonna save Skyrim from Alduin then?!”

“Hah! Don’t make me laugh; you think you’re the dragonborn?” Mercer scoffed “So you can use a few shouts, you’re far from the only one who can. But truthfully I couldn’t care what happens to Skyrim, or the rest of Nirn for that matter. As long as I walk away rich for the rest of my days, I don’t care about anything else at all.”

“You’ll walk away DEAD, you stupid selfish twat!” Fenora yelled as she finally got her sword out of her leg “Fus ro D-“

“HA!” Mercer yelled as he delivered a kick to Fenora’s mouth before she could complete her shout “Like you’re gonna be the one to make-“

Suddenly Mercer whipped around to block an incoming falmer leaping at his back. He plunged his sword deep into the creature’s body but many more managed to swarm him before he could retrieve it. As the frenzied and bloodthirsty rabble delayed him with their vicious assault, a small number of the falmer managed to drag our wounded heroes out of the brawl.

Brynjolf was down for the count and very slowly bleeding to death, and with their injuries, Vex, Maul and Dirge were either unable to stand or use their weapons properly. And the scary thing was Mercer could have done far worse had he wanted; with a bit more effort on his part, he could have outright killed them, but he decided to toy with them a bit more instead.

Mercer was playing the cat, and everyone in his way was just a helpless mouse.

“Arg! Well this is just great!” Vex grunted in pain as she removed the knife in her back “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Fighting him with numbers doesn’t work.” Fenora said as she looked back at the Falmer getting slaughtered no matter how they fought “We need to limit his options. Stross, can you put up a smoke screen?”

Stross nodded and flared up again.

“Good, I have a plan.”

…

Only about a dozen falmer were still standing, maybe fourteen at the most. They formed a hesitant circle around the blood-soaked master thief as he pointed his blades at them, a subtle gleam in his eyes as his grin grew wider.

Then out of the corner of his eye Mercer noticed a black orb speeding right towards him. He jumped back a good distance, but as soon as it hit the ground it exploded in an enormous cloud of smoke so thick it was almost solid, making it very hard to breathe. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to block any kind of attack, but instead an arrow hit him from behind, breaking his guard for just long enough.

“Surprise mother-fucker!” Fenora yelled as she jumped on to his torso, wrapped her legs around his waist, and started punching him in the face.

Mercer immediately stopped that nonsense by grabbing her neck while he tried to get his sword in proper stabbing position. “You know, it’s not much of a surprise if I can see it coming.” He said in a condescending tone.

“Surprise again!” a second Fenora yelled from behind him as she slashed him across his back.

“Gah! What the-“

“Surprise a third time!” Fen-Stross yelled as (s)he spontaneously combusted into a towering inferno while still latched onto Mercer’s front.

“RaaaAAAAHHH!” Mercer screamed bloody murder as he burned alive “GET! OFF! ME!” he yelled, plunging his sword into Stross’s belly with each word until the changeling finally couldn’t take any more and fell off.

“Die you miserable worm!” Mercer screamed and brought his sword down on Stross.

Stross managed to hold up his left arm in time to block the strike, but the blade lodged deeply into the changeling’s arm, and as Mercer ripped his sword back out, it severed Stross’s hand just past the elbow.

Stross wailed in pain and distress as his severed hand bounced off his chest and he was left gazing at the stump of his arm.

“Get away from my changeling! No one gets to hurt him but me!” Fenora yelled and clashed blades with Mercer over and over, her anger and the pain inflicted to him by Stross’s flames seemingly overpowering his enhanced perception sense.

With the smoke finally thinning out, it seemed Mercer had gained the upper hand again, and was competently defending himself against Fenora’s attacks and even landing a few blows of his own, tearing through the weak spots in her armor for minor wounds.

But just as it seemed the fight might turn back in his favor, a black arrow whizzed through the air straight at him, along with the prayer “Nocturnal, let this be his undoing.”

Mercer was able to lean back just enough for the arrow to miss him, but this would end up being his undoing, as instead of hitting him, it tore through one of the pouches on the front of his armor.

An ornate bronze key with a gemstone top was flung into the air between the two duelists. Mercer immediately reached out to grab it, but so focused was he on the key, that he didn’t notice Fenora’s foot heading right for his groin.

Following a kick that could shatter bone, Fenora held out her hand and caught the skeleton key on its decent, and as soon as she looked into the crystalline structure of the gem that composed the handle, her mind was opened.

“No!” Mercer yelled and lunged for the key in the bosmer’s hand.

“Diin slen.” Fenora spoke calmly without even looking at Mercer, and at once he was frozen from the neck down.

“Wha- Hrk, nur! How did-“

“I understand it now. It seems so simple, so obvious. Thu’um; shout. Dragon speech… dovah tinvaak.” Fenora said in an eerily cool voice. She then turned to Mercer with a cold hatred in her eyes. “This could have been easy. All you had to do was give me that stupid horn. But you’ve chosen the hard way. So where is it?”

“Like I’d tell you.” Mercer spat, defiant despite not being able to move an inch.

And just like that, Fenora reached up and broke off three of Mercer’s frozen fingers one by one while Mercer stared at her, horrified. “Wrong answer. Maybe you can find a way to tell me, and maybe I’ll let you keep the rest of you limbs... maybe.”

Mercer growled at her “You want me to beg?! You listen to me you elvish whore, I will never beg to anyone ever again! Not for as long as I live!”

Fenora broke the rest of his arm off. “Let’s see how long that last’s.”

“Tsch, so that’s how you want it then, fine.” Mercer said with one last grin “Then we’ll let you drown, and all of Tamriel BURN!”

As he said that word there was another explosion, this time as the glass dome above them as well as many of the surrounding pipes. Water began rushing in at an alarming rate, flooding the floor of the chamber within seconds only to keep rising as the entirety of the lake spilled into the cave.

Fenora snapped. “You mother fu- Vodiin slen vaarnufaaz!”

Mercer yelled as a tremendous pain surged through his body and the ice was melted away from his chest. Fenora lifted her bare hand and placed it on the left side of his chest. “Kroz nahlii!” as she spoke those words, a thu’um emanated from her fingertips and tore away a huge chunk of Mercer’s muscle, skin and bone.

“Suffer you insufferable bastard!” Fenora seethed as she pulled out Mercer’s still-beating heart and held it out for him to see.

“You came for the eyes of the falmer. So I hope you don’t mind trading for them!” she then pressed her thumbs into Mercer’s eyes, squishing them around in the sockets as he screamed and thrashed his head in agony.

“Now… die. Aah Va Daah, Kah Daav Rah!”

And as those words left her mouth, two things happened; the traitorous thief Mercer Frey died immediately… and miles away on the throat of the world, all of the Greybeards felt a disturbance in the force way of the voice.

Well, that's done with. NEXT!

Stross, Karliah, and the ghost of Gallus emerged into a hallway of cleanly cut stone lit sparsely with torches, alcoves and bits of furniture lined the path ahead. The final trial lay before them now, all that was to be done was traverse the winding halls and get to the entrance to the Ebonmere on the other side.

“Well, this shouldn’t be too hard.” Stross said confidently as he strode forward “Wait…” he stopped himself “Unless that’s just what they want us to think.”

“Catching on are we?” Gallus spoke, his voice growing ever more distant and distorted “Indeed, for this test you must walk the path of temptations without losing your focus on your goal, just as though you were on any other heist. Direct and yet indirect, the path to salvation requires a route of cunning, with avarice betraying the foolish.”

“Phft, shouldn’t be too hard.” Stross dismissed and continued on “I just need to keep on walking no matter… what…”

Stross slowed his pace a bit when a torch lit, illuminating a large bag of gold perched atop a stone pedestal.

“Really, a bag of gold?” the changeling scoffed, noticing the trapwire tied to it and quickly turning away down another corridor “It’ll take more than that to-“

He was interrupted again when a closet sprung open, revealing a rather lavish set of robes; they were his favorite color too, and embroidered with gold string none the less.

Stross stiffened and kept walking without a second glance. But as the trio kept making their way through the winding halls, more and more things popped out of the alcoves on the walls to shove themselves in their faces. Bookshelves were filled with gold and jewels and rare tomes, metal ingots and fine drinks lined the tables of the hall.

Karliah was a trained thief and a servant of Nocturnal, wise to the ways of a Nightingale. And Gallus… well, let’s just say he no longer required such material things.

It was when Stross reached out to grab a slice of a chocolate cake with strawberries on top, oblivious of the flamethrower positioned above, that Gallus called out from behind.

“The cake is a-“

“Don’t say it!” Stross snapped and backed off, his mouth watering dejectedly. "Cakes, why'd it have ta be cakes?"

...

Finally, after several more hallways and several more close calls due to Stross’s sweet tooth, they reached the door to the final chamber. Relieved to have made it, Karliah and Gallus walked through first. Stross was about to follow, when he heard a muffled sound to his left. He was about to ignore it and finish his quest, when it sounded out again, and he realized someone was calling his name.

With curiosity getting the better of him, he backstepped a few paces and found a wooden door he hadn’t noticed before.

“…Come…” the voice called out again from the other side.

Against his better judgment, Stross opened the door and stepped inside the blackness on the other side. A thick smoke covered much of the darkened room, it got in his nose and made him cough. But he gained control of his breathing again, and noticed a figure approach him out of the dark. He rubbed his eyes, and almost couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.

Before him stood a light green pegasus mare with a long silver mane. She walked into sight and smiled at him. “Stross… I’m so sorry I ran from you.” she spoke in a quivering voice, immense sadness in her dark amber eyes. “Please… come back. Come back to me.”

“L- Limelight? But… how are- you were-“ Stross stuttered as he stepped forward “You died. You died because of me!” he cried.

Limelight shook her head, her mane swishing in the way Stross always found so cute. “It doesn’t matter Stross; I’m here now, we all are.”

At that moment Stross noticed other faces appearing out of the mist to stand next to Limelight. Bloom Sprite, Swift Strike, Sunny Delight and at least a dozen more he thought he had lost forever. All of them stood there, staring longingly at him from across the darkened floor.

“We couldn’t live without you Stross, we all came here to find you again.” Swift told him.

“All of us forgive you, and we’re so sorry for everything.” Sunny added.

“We miss you so much.” The heartfelt and pleading voices filled the room.

“I couldn’t sleep after you left.”

“You were always so nice to me.”

“My heart felt like it was torn open when you weren’t there.”

“We love you.”

The darkness of the room began to seep into his vision, everything else in his mind becoming obscured, and Stross could feel tears fall down his face as his mouth stretched into a smile. He couldn’t hear Gallus and Karliah call out to him, nor the door slam shut behind him as stepped forward. All he could focus on was the mares in front of him. He didn’t care how they got to Skyrim, he didn’t even care that he had held Limelight’s broken body as she passed away in his forelegs.

All that mattered was that they were all back. They came back for him, to forgive him.  Just a couple more steps and they’d all be together again.

…Two steps.

The floor made a muffled thump as the pads on his boots hit it.

…One step.

A breeze blew against his face, and Limelight reached out a hoof.

Just one more step… and yet, something stopped him right before he jumped forward to hug them all.

It wasn’t something he noticed, but rather what he didn’t notice. He couldn’t find the scent of musty fabric that Limelight always had from the costumes she worked with, nor the smell of grass from Bloom Sprite, or armor polish from Swift. Perhaps the dust in the room had clogged his sense of smell, or perhaps they’d traveled so far that their natural scents had faded away. But this opened Stross’s mind enough to notice what was absent the most.

Love.

Stross looked at the mares before him as only a changeling could… and he felt nothing. Each and every one of them was devoid of love, for him or anything else. Also gone from them was fear, or anger, happiness, and every other emotion. They were hollow.

He looked down at where he would have stepped to find he was teetering on the edge of a pit, one which he could not see the bottom.

“What’s going on… Who are you? What are you?!” Stross demanded of the mares hovering over the gap.

“Stross, please just come to us. Don’t you trust us?”

“NO!” Stross panicked and scrambled for the door, which to his dismay was firmly locked as he banged his fists against it “What is this? Let me out!”

“Stross.” a calm and familiar voice soothed as he felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder. He turned and saw Fenora standing there, an eerily serene look on her face. “It’s alright.”

“Get back! You’re not her!” Stross shoved her away and scratched at the door, praying for a way out as the mares stalked closer. When he found it would not yield he broke down, his back against the solid piece of wood, cowering with his arms over his head. “Please don’t hurt me.” he begged.

“Stross…” Fenora’s voice spoke, leaving a tense silence.

And then she and every single one of the mares turned into a perfect copy of himself, all bearing down on him with gleaming white fangs, and tears spilling out of their pleading blue eyes.

“Don’t leave me!”

“Please don’t go!”

“I won’t hurt you I promise!”

“I’m not a monster!”

“I still love you!”

“I NEED YOU!”

Confronted with his own echoing voice, knife-like fangs and scale-covered limbs pawing at him, Stross screamed a scream of pure terror and erupted in flame, setting all his clones around him ablaze.

In response the clones flickered back and forth between himself, and the mares he knew and loved once, forcing him to hear their screams and watch as their flesh burned and melted away from their bones. And yet clone and mare alike still pawed at him, begging him to stay with them, even as their flesh and scale melted away to the bone.

Finally the wooden door behind him collapsed from the flames burning through it, and Stross kicked and clawed his way out from the pile of burning corpses, backpeddling as far as he could and blasting fireballs at them until the last one stopped moving.

“Snap out of it man! You are hallucinating!” Gallus tried to calm him, only scaring him further.

“It was just another of Nocturnal’s tests.” Karliah tried to reason with him “I am glad you were not killed by it, but you must calm yourself!”

Stross didn’t hear any of what they said, or at least didn’t register any of it. His eyes were locked firmly ahead on the false image of Fenora, standing there among the smoldering ashes of the fake mares and his own burnt up bodies. She simply stood there like a gravestone among the dead.

“They gave you their love Stross, and you gave them yours; it hurt them as much as it hurt you. Perhaps you weren't so different.” was all she said before turning her back and vanishing.

“What is it?” Gallus asked “What did that powder make you see?”

Instead of answering, Stross merely threw up all over the floor and curled up into a shivering ball.

Meanwhile in the realm of Evergloam, gathered among unearthly structures on the ethereal plane of shadows and clouds, four deities sat watching our changeling hero, each of them caught in a heated debate with one another.

“Art thou entertained yet?” Luna spoke to Celestia while the latter continued to watch and contemplate. "I believe you went too far with that last one sister."

“What it saw was not up to me, Luna.” Celestia responded “If what you’ve told me of this changeling was true, I expected the mind-mist to make him see some sort of victory over Alduin; his allies standing over the fallen dragons, or a celebration in his honor perhaps.” Celestia frowned “If it had managed to deceive you somehow, he would have seen Equestria burning under dragonfire. But this... I don't quit know what to make of it.”

“Firstly, we would prefer you stop referring to Stross as an ‘it’, at least call him by name.” Luna said sternly “And if you will not have faith in him, then at least have some faith in your own sister’s judgment. Did I not know better, I would’st have said thou wished him to be a monster simply so you could be right as always.”

“Luna!” Celestia gasped “What kind of evil mare do you take me for? I understand giving the benefit of the doubt, but for goodness sakes, his kind attacked us! And they were so… cunning with their deception that even I was blind. They broke through all our defenses, and I have no doubt they would have won that day had it not been for Twilight’s overprotective paranoia, coupled with the sheer arrogance of their Queen.”

Celestia looked back through the scrying pool at Stross, clearly deep in thought. “We cannot allow- no… I, shall not allow my little ponies to become food for the bellies of those monsters. Not if I can prevent it.”

A light chuckle came from a third being gathered around the font holding the scrying portal, and one of two who had remained silent amongst the equine sisters’ shouting finally spoke up.

“You two haven’t changed a bit.” Azura commented, shaking her head with a smile “Fourteen-hundred years plus change and you still bicker over your toys like children. It’s kind of adorable really.”

“We are not children!” Luna shot back.

“And our subjects are not toys.” Celestia said, her voice becoming distant “They are kind, innocent and pure. They depend on us to protect them, to lead them.”

“They were not always so.” Azura reminded her “Do you not remember what that savage, inhospitable world you call Equuis was like before the two of you purged it with your banishing spells? Have you forgotten how the ponies fiercely fended for themselves, their violence and ire unrivaled?”

“We have not forgotten.” Celestia countered “If anything, I can never forget.”

“Indeed, it is why we must maintain order, and promote harmony and peace. We can not let such devastation and suffering take hold again in our world.” Luna said, firm in her conviction.

“But is that not the way Equuis should be, the way it is naturally?” Nocturnal asked “You two carve out a wonderland to rule over, in a world forged from savagery. Even now you fight and struggle to maintain order. Would you really let your powers wane until you are but nothing? And if so, for what?”

“We shall.” Celestia answered “We’ll protect out people even with our dying breaths, just as father Akatosh and the others did for Nirn.”

“Akatosh was a fool and you know it.” Nocturnal shot back “And even so, Akatosh and the others created an entire world. While you Celestia… you’re fighting a losing battle for nothing.”

Celestia was silent, Luna as well.

“Please Tia… for you and your sister, don’t waste yourselves for something foolish. Those ponies are not worth your lives.”

Celestia’s eyes suddenly filled with anger. “You think preserving innocent lives is foolish!? How dare you say that we would be wasted on-“

Azura cleared her throat loudly to get their attentions. “If I may interject, I believe we’ve gotten off topic.”

“Ahem. You are right. Where is it- Where is he now?” Celestia asked as they returned to the scrying portal.

The portal rippled to show an image of the three standing over the pit that led to the chamber of Evergloam. “So how do we get down there?” the changeling asked.

“This, is… SKYRIM!” the dunmer thief yelled and kicked him into the pit. “Fus ro dah...?”

“KALIAH YOU BIIiiii…” *Plomf* “…ouch.”

Finally at the bottom of the darkened pit known as the Ebonmere, Stross pulled himself to his feet, mumbling curses and relocating his femurs.

“Heeellllooooo! Am I in the right place?” He called out, the stone floor and the sealed entrances of the Ebonmere giving him no response. After about a minute had passed with little progress made, he’d considered flying back out, but what would he tell Karliah? Sorry, Nocturnal isn’t home right now, please leave a message after the beep?

The changeling sat against a wall and let out a deep sigh. “I’m so bored!” he moaned.

Suddenly the Skeleton Key started vibrating in his pocket. Cautiously he pulled it out and unwrapped it.

“Oh sweet! It still works.” Nocturnal’s voice came from the key, the crystal on top pulsating with her voice “Alright, now listen closely. I need you to take this key, and put it in the hole.”

Stross gave the key an incredulous look. “Okay.” He shrugged. He then pulled one of his gloves off and shoved the key into one of the gaps in his wrist.

“No. Not that hole.”

Another attempt was made.

“Not that one either.”

Stross pulled the key out of his nose and looked at it questioningly. After checking whether or not anyone was watching, he began to pull his pants off.

“NO! For the love of darkness, just NO!” Nocturnal screamed “I’m talking about the key-shaped slot in the floor over there, you ding-bat!”

“Ooooohhhhhh.” Stross slapped his forehead “That makes way more sense.” He then walked over and placed the key in the glowing slot, then turned it until it clicked. But nothing happened.

“Did you try blowing into the slot to clear the dust?” Nocturnal asked through the key “Okay hold on. Where is that instruction manual? Let’s see here… try opening the panel to your left.”

Stross did as he was told, uncovering a black metal box covered in green lights. He stared at it and flipped it over a few times, trying to figure out what was wrong. “What is this thing?” he asked.

“Never mind that. Are all the lights solid green?”

“Uh, nope; one is blinking yellow.”

“Darn it, listen to me very closely, because I can only tell you this once. Listen to all of it.” Nocturnal stressed “First, you need to unplug it-“

“Okay!” Stross pulled out one of the cables.

“NO! Quick you must-“ Nocturnal tried to say, but her connection was suddenly cut off.

“Uhh, what was that last part? You’re breaking up on me here.” Stross waited for a response, only for silence to greet him. "Well great, what am I supposed to do now?"

"Plug it back in." came a feline voice behind him.

Turning around, Stross came face to face with a familiar yellow-robed Kahjiit. "What th- J'zargo? How'd you get down here?" Stross asked, trying to think of some explanation.

"J'zargo is tech support. J'zargo does not need to explain himself."

Meanwhile in Evergloam, a pulse of red suddenly washed over Nocturnal’s realm. The clouds seemed to light up, flickering shadows began to move of their own accord again, and the mistress of dark felt her power restored, as well as her link to the realm of Mundus.

Nocturnal squeed in delight before summoning up a huge number of various screens which she began frantically poking and swiping at “YES! Nocturnal is back, baby! You sisters do what you need to, I gotta update my status.”

Celestia and Luna looked between each other and stifled giggles. “Azura, would you care to join us?” Celestia asked, preparing a portal now that Evergloam had been re-linked.

“You go on ahead… I’ll talk with him later. Right now I must look after Nocty and make sure she remembers to eat.”

"Oh oh, check this out Zuri." Nocturnal beckoned her over as she tapped a screen and pulled a microphone to her lips "Delvin... this is the mistress of night. I command you now." she spoke in a ghostly tone "Walk up to Vex... and tell her to show you her booooobs."

And so, the two goddesses shared a good laugh as Delvin got repeatedly kicked in the groin.

Stross had fixed the Skeleton Key thingy, or at least thought he had, and decided to leave after that. He met with Karliah and Gallus at the entrance to the Sepulcher, and Gallus confirmed that the link to Nocturnal’s realm had indeed been reestablished.

“So what happens now?” Stross asked.

For the first time since they’d met, Karliah looked almost lost, unable to find words. “I… I don’t know. I’ve been on the hunt for revenge for so long, I’m not sure what to do now.” She thought on it for a second “I suppose I’ll head back to join the Guild again, help them out with their work. No doubt they’ll have better luck with Nocturnal on their side again. But for now, I believe I’ll spend a while longer with Gallus, and catch up.”

“And I shall linger in this world for as long as you wish, my little Nightingale.” Gallus cooed, earning a small blush from Karliah.

“What about you Stross; what will you do?”

Stross opened his mouth to answer. But before he could, a shadowy rift opened just to his right. He turned to face it, expecting Nocturnal’s voice.

“Stross!” Luna dove out of the portal, landing on him in a bone-snapping tackle-hug “Greetings my changeling friend! I hath returned to aid you once again! ADVENTURE!” *Snap*

“Hurk… Hello Princess Luna. *Crack* It’s good to- gurk! See you too.” Stross managed to choke out.

“Indeed, greetings to you, changeling.” A warm, yet commanding voice spoke from the portal. Out stepped Princess Celestia, she had taken a human form, yet her giant white wings and regal horn remained. She also had the good sense to conjure up some light robes to supplement her regalia, but the result had hardly any effect.

“I have watched your progress as of late.” Celestia told him “What you do for this world is quite a noble endeavor, and I wish you luck in it. However,” her voice took a firmer tone “know that I shall be watching you, Luna as well, and should your actions prove to be of evil nature, one that threatens our subjects, I will not hesitate to put an end to it. Do you understand?”

Celestia waited for a response.

“Holy gratuitous cleavage, Princess Celestia!” Stross shouted as his wings sprang out of his shell.

“Ahem, yes well,” Celestia moved her arms to cover herself a bit more, realizing her robes covered significantly less than they should have “You still shall not-“

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of those knockers!”

A vein puled on Celestia’s forehead. “Will you just answer-“

“Bewbs.”

“He does have a point sister.” Luna chimed in “You really should be more modest when it comes to your form, lest the inhabitants of this world see it as an invitation to do unsavory things.” Luna said as she reached out and did the not-so-unthinkable. "Squeeze squeeze."

“Okay, fine!” Celestia shouted and conjured up a sun-pattered tee-shirt. “Changeling, do I have your word that you shall do no evil or not?!”

“Yeah okay.” Stross answered casually “No evilness going on.”

“Are you quite certain?”

Stross was about to readily answer yes again, but then a thought occurred. “Is this a trick question? Are you going to be a hard-flank when it comes to stuff like this?”

“I- what?”

“Yeah, like what if I have to brutally murderize a horde of wizard vampire bandits to save a town of innocent people. Or maybe I need to make a dark deal with some Daedric lord in order to get a super powerful weapon to smite other stuff that’s more evil.” Stross provided a couple examples off the top of his head. “What if I get TRICKED into doing something bad but didn’t mean it?! Does that count against me too!?”

Celestia thought about it for a few moments. It would be hard to set rules for what is good or evil, when clearly it required case by case judgment. It would be purely out of perspective and context what is right or wrong. The solar Princess sighed, it was time to use the fallback plan when it came to tough decisions with no definite or right answer.

“I shall leave the matter to you, Luna. Oversee any decision this changeling makes, be his conscience.” Celestia decided, to which Luna gawked “I shall trust your judgment sister.” She added, giving Luna a bit more confidence. “Call for me if you need my help. Until then I must tend to our people. Good luck little sister.”

“If thou insists. But I must ask if- Oh not again!”Luna said as her mane stopped flowing and went limp again. “This is actually what I wished to speak to you about, sister. You said you had a solution for this, yes?” she looked to Celestia as Stross tried to untangle a large clump of her mane from of his mouth.

“Oh, right. I nearly forgot about that. As it turns out, I have found a solution.” Celestia chuckled “So Luna, do you like hmmmm bananas?”

“What?”

“I was just wondering if you liked hmmmm bananas.”

Luna’s eyes suddenly went wide and she released Stross to throw herself at Celestia’s feet. “No sister please! Not that, anything but that! I don’t want to be launched to the moon again!” she groveled.

Celestia simply stared at her sister with a dumbstruck expression before a sudden realization set in. “Oh! No Luna, not that; I’m past that phase now. I was referring to this.” She pulled out a banana... from where, we won’t question. “The potassium in these specially crafted bananas will allow you to maintain your magical link to Equestira while you’re here on Nirn. You shouldn’t have to worry about your magic draining away from simply existing now, but do try and take it easy with your use of magic while you’re here,” Celestia warned “You’ll only be able to recharge so fast.”

“Oh... okay. Thank you?” Luna said as she took the banana.

“You’re welcome, farewell.” Celestia said before stepping through the portal once more, likely returning home.

“So…” Luna asked slowly “What is our status on the quest to save Skyrim?”

“Well Fenora’s unlocked her potential with the Skeleton key, but now she’s also dying. I’ve got a group of falmer minions that can’t see. And…” Stross stopped recounting his mental list “And I was supposed to ask Noctural where the Horn of Jurgan Windcaller was, but didn’t.”

“Do not fret my friend, for we know where the horn resides.” Luna told him with a pat on the head “As we speak, it is traveling southwards to Morrowind, on a traders’ caravan that collects rare and valuable relics. Surely they will not part with it easily, but the master of the caravan desires one thing more than any other artifact; an ancient tome of alchemy from Summerset Isle that can turn any substance into pure gold. But to obtain this tome, we shall have to go to Vvardenfell and-“

“I’m sorry, is this a trading side-quest?” Stross asked “Because this is sounding a lot like a trading side-quest.”

“Indeed.” Luna admitted with a sigh “But with my magic and flight it shall take no time at all, I shall spare you the details and simply complete the quest on my own while you and Fenora carry on here.”

“Okay, I like this idea.”

“Right then, I must be off. But I shall check in with you once every eve. Take this.” Luna handed Stross a small purple gem “This will allow you to call for my aid should you need it. Tally ho!”

There was a brilliant flash of light, and Luna was gone.

“So Luna is back. Aaaaannd… she’s gone.” Stross deadpanned with a sigh as he worked Luna's gem into one of his arm holes “I guess I should get back to Riften and tell Fen the good news. See you two later.” He waved to Gallus and Karliah before leaving the cave.

The dunmer and her ghostly lover watched as he departed before turning their attentions back to each other.

“So my little Nightingale, you must realize that Nocturnal will eventually call me to Evergloam to fulfill my contract with her. But before I go, I would like to ask you about something.”

“Anything Gallus, anything at all.” Karliah said as she leaned into his transparent form.

“I sensed you had an interesting encounter with my good friend Brynjolf recently.”

Karliah’s eyes shot open. “W-wait Gallus. It’s not what you think, I was just-“

“Could you describe to me what it was like?” Gallus asked, to which Karliah gave a second of pause “And try to be as descriptive as possible.” he said, pulling out a bottle of ghost lotion and unzipping his ghost trousers.

A changeling's best f(r)iend

When Stross got out of the Nightingale caves, he found that night had begun to fall on Skyrim, the sun finally setting below the trees. The tinted gradient of orange and red in the sky had almost faded out, and on the opposite side of the sky, the stars were beginning to show through. He also found to his surprise and annoyance that the Sepulcher was all the way over in the southern corner of Falkreath hold. Of course he had to wander around a bit until he found the nearest town (getting chewed up by a pack of wolves along the way, but that’s kind of beside the point.), the point was that now he was clear on the other end of Skyrim, and meanwhile Fenora and his falmer minions were all on their own until he got back to them.

Grumbling and trying to suppress his worry, he made his way out to rent a carriage trip back, knowing it was going to take all dang day... er, night.

But it was when Stross had neared the carriage that he noticed a brown fluffy thing in the distance making its way towards him. “Hold on a sec.” He told the driver as the thing got closer, allowing him to see that it was a short little dog with a very shaggy and unkempt coat.

The dog walked up to him and stopped, apparently looking him over as he wagged his tail happily.

“Aw, hey there little guy. Are you lost?” Stross baby-talked as he knelt down and gave the dog a nice scratch behind the ears.

“Ah yeah right there… right there.” a voice spoke, seemingly from the canine in front of him.

Stross gave a surprised and inquisitive stare at the tangled mess of fur with a big slobbery tongue before him. “Did… did you just talk?” he asked, sounding almost silly despite stranger things happening to him.

“What? Nah, of course not. That would be ridiculous; you’ve clearly just taken a few too many blows to the head and have finally gone completely insane, to the point that you hallucinate talking animals.” The dog said, blatant sarcasm coating every word “Yes I’m a talking dog.”

Stross leaned back a bit, raising an eyebrow and giving himself a good slap across the face. Yet the dog remained in front of him anyway. “So... are you real or not? 'Cause if you're real that's kind of weird.”

“Oh look who’s talking.” The dog replied indignantly “Skyrim has dragons, and two-legged kitty-cat people, not to mention whatever it is you are; and you think a talking dog is strange? Boy let me tell you, I haven’t even begun to show you weird.”

“Right well, was there something you needed, ‘cause I’m kinda in a hurry.” Stross said as the cart driver was motioning for him to stop wasting his time standing around.

“Well you see, you look like exactly the kind of person I need. My name is Barbas, and I’ve got a problem I need you ta help sort out.” the dog introduced himself “You see my master and I had a bit of a falling out; we had an argument that got a bit… heated.”

Muted sounds of war, slaughter, chaos and death, as well as quite another thing filled the air around the two as Barbas fixed him with a thousand-yard stare.

“And so he banished me.” Barbas continued “I would just talk to him myself, only with the barrier he put up, I can’t get within fifty feet of the place. But that’s where you come in, you just follow me to his place, and pass a message to him from me. Simple. But like I said, you seem like just the dim-witted, gullible, piece of meat for the job. What d’ ya say bucko?”

“Wait wait wait wait WAIT! Come back!” Barbas yelped as he ran alongside the carriage as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. “I didn’t mean it when I said you was stupid, help me out here!”

“Sorry buddy, but I don’t tend to listen to hallucinations.” Stross called over the side of the wagon.

“Touché bug boy, touché. Now will ya stop for a minute?” Barbas said dryly.

“I’ve got an army of minions possibly running amok in a city hours away, the woman I love is slowly dying in that same city, and somehow she and I have to save the entire word from an evil dragon tyrant together.” Stross listed off his problems “Give me one good reason to waste time helping out some dog I just met, when he didn’t even ask nicely!”

“Because if you help me, my master will grant you any wish you want!”

Stross pondered on that prospect for a moment. “Slow down a bit.” He told the driver before turning his attention to the dog now comfortably walking beside the cart “What kind of wish; do standard genie rules apply here?”

“Nope, just the one on how many wishes you get. And it can be anything you want, kid! My master Clavicus is the daedric prince of wishes and desires after all.” Barbas said with a smug smirk “You give the word and the whole world can be yours.”

Stross tapped his chin thoughtfully before asking “Is it one of those hubris things? Like what if I did wish for the world; would I just get a fancy map instead of becoming an actual ruler of the world?”

Barbas stared at him for a second in shock. “Hmm, maybe you ain’t so dumb after all.” He mumbled “I’ll admit, Clavicus does have a dark sense of humor at times, but hey, a wish is a wish. And… you already know to be careful what you wish for. So what d’ ya say, knowing the endless possibilities in store if you lend a hand…”

Stross thought on it for a second before jumping off the wagon and reaching out a hand for Barbas to shake. “You’ve got a deal, I’ll help you in exchange for one wish from your master.”

“Excellent.” Barbas said darkly as he shook Stross’s hand “EXCCELLENT! Mwa, mwa-hahahaha! Bah ha hahaha! Ahem- I mean… let’s get going shall we?”

Meanwhile in Riften.

Fenora stirred in her sleep, breathing was still painful to her, and her head throbbed with every heartbeat. She forced her eyes open to look around, but her vision was obscured by some kind of glaze that caught dim candlelight that filled the room, making that impossible.

In her mind, she tried to piece together where she was and what had happened, but the pain made it hard to focus for longer than a second. She remembered farther back in short flashes, leaving the college, meeting Karliah, facing off with Mercer, escaping the ruin…

But what then? She remembered anger, a calm anger… like frustration fighting to ignite into something far fiercer. So much of it. Why was she angry? It was like something was missing, stolen from her. But what happened?! Why couldn’t she remember!?

A particularly large throb went through her head, causing her to seize up and grit her teeth in pain.

It was then she decided she had to get up. The elf rolled onto her side, overshooting her mark and falling to the floor beside her bed. Gathering her strength, she pushed herself to her knees and looked around for something to hold herself up with.

A long black stick, which she eventually recognized as her sword scabbard, was within reaching distance… once she reached for it once, and fell over again.

With a crutch in hand she pushed herself upwards, using the wall for support as well. Once her head stopped spinning, she opened the door.

What greeted her was a pile of disjointed pale limbs attached to a pair of grotesque looking creatures that made loud wheezing noises as they slept. A short series of images returned to her mind, and recognizing the creatures as her unlikely allies she carefully stepped over them, the flaps of her duster brushing over them as she did.

Walking on her three legs half-blindly through the dark, Fenora finally reached the most daunting thing she could have faced at that moment. But she wouldn’t be stopped, the determination filling her mind and dragging her onward would see to that. Taking a deep breath as she struggled to stay upright, swaying uneasily regardless, Fenora took one step forward towards the daunting wooden obstacles.

Youtube Video

“How much faaaaarrrrther?” Stross groaned after the third hour of walking in circles through the woods in the dead of night.

“We’re almost there, don’t get ya panties in a twist.” Barbas said back as he sniffed a familiar tree for the fifteenth time and turned left again.

“You said that nine tiiiimmes noooooww!” Stross continued to whine.

“Gods you complain a lot; if I didn’t need ya help…” Barbas growled behind his teeth.

“Okay first off, there is a difference between complaining and whining. Knowing that difference can and will save your life.” Stross clarified, suddenly taking a sophisticated tone before dropping it just as fast. “And second… myyyy feeeeet huuuuurt!”

Barbas rolled his eyes before turning forward again, suddenly very excited at what he saw. “We’re here!” he exclaimed with a small jump for joy “Now just go on in and talk to Clavicus for me, tell him to let me in again.”

Stross looked over the rather plain looking cave entrance, there were a few barrels stacked outside, and a couple bloodstains, but nothing remarkable. There was also a distinct lack of magic wards or barriers of any kind, at least that he could see. “Why don’t you come in too?” he asked.

“Uh, because of the barrier my master set up to stop me. Doi!” Barbas chided.

“Barbas?” Stross asked as he walked up to the entrance “This is a door.”

“Exactly!” Barbas shouted and ran up to it beside Stross, giving him a glare “Do you really need me to show you the problem here?”

The changeling folded his arms, and there was silence as he waited expectantly.

Barbas sighed and faced the wooden planks unskillfully nailed together. He took a deep breath, focused his energy… and began futilely pawing and scratching at the wood, all while making the most pitiful whines imaginable.

This went on for about half a minute until Barbas decided his dignity had taken enough of a beating and he turned back to Stross. “You see!? This thing is impenetrable!” he began to pace in circles “This is why I need you, because as long as that abomination stands, I can’t-“

A click and a slow creak interrupted Barbas, and he turned around to see Stross holding the door open, motioning for him to go inside with a sweep of his hand.

“Ha-ha! You’re the best spontaneous servant I’ve ever had bug boy!” Barbas yelled victoriously before bolting inside.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Stross asked, looking around at the frozen walls and bleak stone around them.

“What’d ya mean, of course it’s the place. What’d ya expect!” Barbas said indignantly.

“I expected a temple, with some banners maybe!” Stross threw his arms out “Or maybe a few sacrificial alters, a fountain of blood and coins to signify the price of greed and want, something befitting the status of a daedric prince that grants wishes.” He gave a few examples “Or maybe a block of stone carved with a person, and the corners with the arms and legs are chipped off, to show what happens when you cut corners, or… Are you... taking notes?”

“Huh, wha-“ Barbas put his note-pad away “No. No no no… no. Anyway, since I left with half of master Clavicus’s power he can’t manifest himself too far from his shrine, so we’ll have to go to that shrine to talk to him. It should be at the end of these caves.”

Stross and Barbas walked for about another two seconds before the changeling chimed in again.

“So did that argument between you two end in like a legal divorce, or something?”

However, before Barbas could yell a snappy comeback about Stross’s hypothetical mother, they were interrupted by a large number of angry shouts and the sounds of several people charging towards them.

“There, intruders!” one of the black-robed figures shouted.

“And the dog is back! Don’t let them interrupt the ceremony!” one of the pale women joined in.

“Aw shit, we’ve got some of Clavicus’s goons to deal with. I’ll take care of this! Watch and be astounded by my awesome powers!” Barbas said as he took a battle stance “Bark! Bark bark bark, b-bar-bark bark! …Woof.”

Stross stared blankly at the dog as it turned up its nose and strutted off as though all that obnoxious barking actually accomplished something. “Yeah… you tell ‘em Barbas. So who are you guys?” he turned his attention to the cultists before surrounding him with daggers and lightning in their hands.

“We are vampires!” announced one who stepped forth.

“That explaaaaains everything.” Stross said sarcastically.

“And we’re here to meet the daedric prince of wishes, to pray to him for a cure. You shall not stop us!”

“Okay, that’s cool.” Stross shrugged “I guess we’ll wait in line.”

“Indeed, we will kill you before you ruin our chance to restore our humainit- wait, come again?” the lead vampire stopped mid-sentence, thrown for a bit of a loop.

“Yeah, you guys go on ahead. I’m just here to give Clavicus his dog back.”

“Oh, well… thank you.” the vampire told him. “Most people would have us killed on sight.”

“I will DESTROY you, you filthy, undead, blood-sucking- mmph fhur grr!” yelled an enraged Vigilant of Stendarr, who had been tied to a chair and swiftly re-gagged.

“Honestly Fjorr, why did you bring her along for this?”

“It was our anniversary!”

So with an entourage of nine repentant vampires, Stross and Barbas made their way to the end of the caverns where a large statue of Clavicus stood, holding a horned mask high with one hand, and the other outstretched to his side with nothing to rest it on. The vampires assembled before the statue while Stross and Barbas waited back a respectable distance.

“Oh lord Clavicus Vile, daedric prince of wishes and desires; we come before you now in our time of need. Please, answer our prayers.” The lead vampire said as he knelt before the stature, his companions following suit.

Patiently, yet eager for a response, they waited on their knees.

“Oi, and what d’ you blokes want now then?” a rather irritated voice came from the statue.

“Lord Vile, we wish to be cured of the curse that afflicts us.”

“Oh, well that’s easy. Draw your daggers I told you to fetch, those blades has the power to free you from this affliction.” Clavicus instructed, waiting to proceed as the men and women drew their blades. “Now trust-ith in me, the lord of wishes, and plunge thine daggers into thine gullets.”

“This ain’t gonna be good.” Barbas whispered, nudging Stross’s leg.

The vampires looked over their knives, and some more hesitantly than others, positioned the tips to their throats. Some took deep breaths, while others closed their eyes before driving the blades in without hesitation.

And then each of them fell sideways onto the floor. The two who luckily chickened out stared in horror as a slowly growing pool of blood formed around bodies of their friends.

“Right then, that’s that.” Clavicus announced with satisfaction over the vampires that lay dying before his shrine. “You two can stay cursed for all I care."

“Sweet Celestia!” Stross yelled as he shoved past the tow standing and to their fallen friends, putting his hands on the bleeding wound of the vampire nearest him, and trying to heal the man before he bled out or died from lack of air. “The fuck man, they wanted a cure, not death!” he yelled at the statue of Clavicus as blood soaked into his Nightingale gloves.

“Same difference, bug. No skin off my back if you mortals don’t think these things through.” Clavicus replied with a casual callousness.

“Good ol’ Clavicus, I had to warn people about you for a lot o’ reasons ya know, and this right here… this is reason number one.” Barbas said as he walked to the front, sitting down before the statue. “I should have warned these fellas to find help elsewhere, but I guess seein’ is belivin’ too, after all.”

“Help me get the others! Drag them in you have to!” Stross yelled to the two terrified vampires who weren’t bleeding to death.

The vampire Stross had just managed to save from death let out a strangled gasp for air. “We worshipped you! And you would trick us into killing ourselves, you’re a monster!” he spat at Clavicus.

Stross focused his magic into the palms of his hands as he moved from one patient to the next, forcing the cuts closed with his magic. Less than a minute later Stross had managed to heal the last of them at the cost of nearly all his magika reserves, and not a moment too soon as the last woman had already passed out from asphyxiation.

Each of the vampires gathered around to thank him in turn, allowing Stross to tap their life-forces enough to replenish himself somewhat, still being careful to not take too much though. Goodness knows these people would need it now.

“Come on everyone, we’ll need to find shelter before the sun comes up.” Their leader said and began to walk out of the caves.

“Hey, stop by Morthal when you get the chance. Ask for a redguard wizard named Falion, he’s cured vampires before.” Stross said, remembering his encounters with Movarth’s coven.

“Truly?” one asked, hope seeming to resonate throughout all of them at this news “Then we haven’t time to waste, let us hurry!”

“Oh well that’s just great.” Clavicus said with an implied sneer as he watched them leave “Fan-freaking-tastic! And who do I have to thank for ruining my entertainment this evening?”

“My name’s Stro-“

“Oh bah, I know who you are!” Clavicus cut him off “Stross, changeling, came from Equestria or whatever little Tia and Loony are calling their pet project nowadays. Nocturnal won’t shut up about you since she got her power back. So what do you want anyway; there has to be some reason you’re here besides being a party-pooper.”

“Actually I’m just here to give Barbas back; he says you two had a disagreement of sorts.” Stross told him.

“Oh right, Barbas, that insufferable pooch always preaching to me about right and wrong. Well you can forget it!” Clavicus shouted “Request firmly denied. Aw hell naw! Nope, nope nope… SO much nope.” Clavicus would have crossed his arms if could “And any other variations of ‘no’ you find applicable.”

Stross stared at the statue for a second, thinking of a way to change the daedric prince’s mind.

“Please?”

Clavicus stopped, not to reconsider, but rather to gawk. “No.” he said simply.

“Pretty please?”

“No!” the daedric prince repeated with more force.

“With sprinkles and a cherry?” Barbas added.

You could practically see the veins pulsing on Clavicus’s forehead.

“Alright you miserable whelps, apparently you’re not too bright, so let me hammer the point into your feeble little minds!” Clavicus thundered in annoyance “Barbas is no longer my problem. I am GLAD to be rid of him and his nonsense! I would rather be stuck in a pitiful shrine, in the back end of nowhere with nothing to do all day but twiddle my stony thumbs!” He paused to figuratively look around “Oh... I guess I’m already at that point. But I still mean it! I’m not taking that mutt back.”

“B- but…” Barbas started tearing up “Y- your my master, Clavicus. Yer a sadistic bastard, but you’re my sadistic bastard. Think of all the good times we’ve had. You’re my only friend!” he howled.

“Hmm, well… there may be a way for you to earn back your place by my side.” Clavicus said deviously “But no promises. Here’s what you have to do…”

Giants and dastardly deeds (part 1)

In the dead of night, through the pitch darkness in the forests, a glimmer of moonlight reflected off a pair of eyes amongst the trees. The glowing orbs disappeared as quickly as they came, following the hulking form they belonged to and leaving the woods in darkness once more.

Fenora stalked through these woods, fitfully rubbing at her eyes in a futile attempt to clear her blurry vision. Her head pounded with every beat of her heart, and she staggered every now and again, having to use her sword as a cane when she wasn’t simply dragging it behind her.

She didn’t know how she had gotten out here, or even where here was. The soothing sensation that once filled her and made the pain she was in bearable had faded away. Now all she knew was that something was missing, and she had to find it.

“Shimmering… metal... infinite stars… power… key.” she droned to herself “Where?”

Suddenly the ground fell out from under her foot, and Fenora was sent tumbling down a steep cliffside, cursing the entire way.

“Shit- shit- ow- dammit! FIEM!”

Fenora’s body became ghostly, and the rest of the fall simply felt like landing on air. Finally she finished her decent on the road below, and the Become Ethereal shout wore off, leaving her lying there in the dirt. Though the fall did little to her, her headache became worse and she spat up a mouthful of blood.

Groaning, she rolled over onto her back, her insides feeling like they’d been torn apart. “What’s happening to me?” she moaned.

Suddenly a roar of challenge came from her right, and through her hazy vision she saw a great mass of fur charging towards her out of the forest.

Immediately grabbing her sword, Fenora rolled out of the way as the sabercat pounced on the ground where she’d been. She took a haphazardly swing at the beast and heard a satisfying hiss of pain, telling her at least one of her attacks had hit. Moving in for the kill she lunged forward, driving her sword as far into the beast as she could.

The giant feline roared and swiped at her with its paws. But her armor was more than a match for the razor-like claws, only suffering superficial damage at most. Finally the beast stopped moving and went limp.

Fenora gasped, breathing heavily as she retrieved her blade from its carcass and fell onto her rump. “Try to... make a meal out of... me… will ya? You had… you better die.”

However, just as she was getting some respite, another chorus of roars sounded behind her, and quickly became a song.

“Tro lo-lo la-la lo-lo lo lo-looooo!”

“Fuck’s sake!” Fenora growled as she turned to fight the monstrosities coming her way.

Meanwhile at the Fortress…docks of Solitude, a shaggy dog scampered across the wooden planks above the water. It looked around cautiously, quickly shifting from barrel to crate, cover to cover as it checked the insignias on the sails of the merchant ships that had pulled in to port.

“No trespassing!” a nearby guard yelled “Can’t you read? Beat it mutt!” he pointed to a nearby sign with his torch.

The dog whined and tilted his head.

“Oh lay off man, dog isn’t doing any harm.” Another guard told him off. “By the way, did that shipment of cakes reach the city yet yet?”

“Sure did, it’s the big ship over there with the chef’s hat painted on the sails and hull.” The first guard pointed to a large ornate ship that took up nearly half the port “Good thing too. These're not like the sweetrolls we make up here either; these cakes are specially made all the way from Summerset Isle. Don’t know what would happen if it was late… or got stolen. There would probably be armageddon, or an apocalypse. Certainly a cataclysm at least. Oh I know! Apocalypse-gedda-clysm.”

“Oh… you don’t say.” The other guard chuckled nervously, tugging at his collar.

“Yep, well anyway I’m turning in for the night. Toodles!” the first guard said and made to leave “Wait a second… who are you again? All us guards look and sound the same under these buckets.”

“Oh… umm, I’m actually new here, yeah. New recruit into the guard force.” The other guard stammered nervously, pulling off his helmet to reveal a face like any other.

“Ah, another one. What’s your name?” the first guard asked, walking back now.

“Umm,  Smitty… Werben… Jaegerman Jensen?”

The guard gave a scrutinizing stare at the unconvincing reply. “Okay… then how did you become a guard?”

“I-“ the other guard was about to answer, but let out a long-winded sigh at what he was about to say “I used to be an adventurer, but then I… took an arrow to the knee.” He groaned.

“Alright, everything checks out here. Keep calm. Carry on.”

Quickly ducking around a corner, Stross let the red embers of his disguise wash off of him. He sank to the floor as the chainmail shirt and helmet hung loosely on his frame. “Barbas, why by the Fallen are we doing this?” he asked as he slipped back into his Nightingale armor.

“Because Clavicus told us to.” Barbas waddled up to him.

“But he’s asking us to steal forty cakes!” Stross whisper-yelled “I don’t know how good dogs are at math, but that’s as many as four tens! And that’s just terrible. I promised Princess Celestia I wouldn’t do this kind of stuff.”

“But it’s for a good cause; getting me back to my master, and granting you any wish you want. Just use your wish for something righteous and noble or whatever to make up for it. Now get on that boat while I try and find a wagon or somethin’.”

“Okay, okay you can do this. You’re Batmare!” Stross told himself as he crept around the narrow corridors of the ship, hiding behind open doors and narrowly avoiding a couple sparse guard patrols along the way.

There was a close call involving a vase and twenty-eight wheels of cheese, but thanks to the swiftness and stealth granted by his armor, Stross was able to make it to the cargo hold without any problems. The fact that most of the crew was asleep may have helped too, but that’s beside the point.

“Na na na, Batmare… Batmare.” Stross quietly hummed as he carefully creaked open the polished wooden door and slipped inside where the cakes were supposed to be.

As he turned around, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Lining the walls of the lower hold were rows and rows of metal shelves filled with fancy glass boxes. And inside each of those boxes with an air-tight seal was a cake, each one of them different in some small way, be it the color of the icing or the arrangement of the sugar flowers.

“Mother. Of. God.” Stross pulled off his Nightingale sunglasses “It’s… beautiful.” He wiped a tear from his eye.

“OW! You did that on purpose!” came a voice in the far end of the hold, followed swiftly by the sound of a punch being received.

“Oi, keep it dune you two. We doughnut want t’ get caught.” A familiar accent scolded them.

Curious, Stross crept closer to the source. Peeking up over one of the many countertops, Stross found that it was exactly who he thought it was. Not three feet away, Delvin, Vex and Brynjolf were absconding with several of the glass cases via a cleverly rigged conveyer-belt that led out of a recently cut hole in the side of the boat. Tied up next to them, leaning against a table full of playing cards, were two guards wearing the same chef-hat logo as the ship they were on.

“Hey guys!” Stross gave a cheerful greeting, standing up and waving with a big grin on his face “How's it hang- EEP!”

He was grabbed and shoved onto the table, playing cards flying everywhere. A pair of knives were pressed against his throat, the owner of said knives pinning him onto an empty table table. “Not a single sound, you hear me.” Vex said through her teeth “Now who in Oblivi- Stross?”

“Uh, hi Vex.” Stross answered meekly. “Please be gentle with me?”

Suddenly quite aware of the position she had pinned Stross in, Vex quickly got off him with a huff and set him back on his feet. “Hah, even I have standards, you know? So what are you doing here?”

“I’m supposed to steal forty cakes for Clavicus Vile. Why are you guys here?”

“Well ya see lad, now that we’re back in Nocturnal’s good graces, she wants us ta steal eighty cakes for her.” Brynjolf answered, to which Stross’s jaw dropped.

“Eighty cakes!” he screeched despite how his thief buddies cringed and made to secure any nearby doors “That’s TWICE as many as four tens! And that’s doubly terrible!”

“Keep it dune lad! Yer gonna give us all away!”

“To late, criminal scum!” a guard in a flowing red cape yelled in a heroic tone as he dramatically kicked in the wall next to the door “You won’t get away with your dastardly crimes on my watch! These decadent cakes are for the upcoming wedding, and we won’t have you making off with them!”

As the thieves scrambled to make their hasty getaway, Stross stood stalk still, several flashbacks to the days following that disaster in Canterlot plaguing his mind. The fear ponies felt, the hatred for his species flooding their minds, talks of putting together hunting parties, purging his kind from existance…

Stross breathed heavily and clamped his head between his hands fell into the fetal position “Not again… not this agai- Wait-a-minute… hey buddy, is it a royal wedding?” He asked Super-guard as he and the thieves were brawling it out.

“Well, I guess so.” He answered as Vex got him in an ineffective headlock “The bride is one of the Emperor’s cousins and the owner of the East Empire trading company; this ship actually belongs to her if you were wondering. Now then, back to JUSTICE!” he threw Vex into Delvin.

“Oh by the Fallen, not again; I just got to this world! Not another royal wedding; those things are bad for changelings! WAAAAAAHHHHH!” Stross screamed.

He then leapt to his feet,

“Nope, nope, nope, nope...”

And shoved his way past the brawl, lighting the occupants on fire as he did,

“Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope...”

And then he dove out of the hole in the boat, swimming through the icy-cold sea to safety.

“Nnnnnoooooooooppe!”

He then pulled himself back up for just long enough to snag one of the glass boxes of cake.

"Yep."

Meanwhile on the other side of Skyrim, far from the shenanigans taking place near Solitude, in one of the few remaining orcish strongholds, one of the sentries stood guard on the northeast wall. He’d-

*Crash!*

Dude, you’re jumping around a lot this chapter. Not sure your readers will like that too much.

What the... How’d you get in here? And did you just break the fourth wall? Man are you kidding me? It was healing over so nicely after all my abuse during those early chapters.

I’m your sense of pacing. I’m always here in some way or other… mostly... sometimes. So, now that you’ve dropped Stross like a rock, I assume you're getting back to what was happening with Fenora; It looked like she was getting mauled by the local fauna when we left off.

I’m getting to that right now.

Really? ‘cause I’m pretty sure our favorite elf has nothing to do with an orc stronghold.

It’ll make sense if you’d let me get there. I’m trying to set up another viewpoint to kick off the next few scenes in order to smooth what would otherwise be a boring and awkward transition. It's something I do a lot actually.

Ah, well okay, let’s have it then.

Gladly. Ahem…

One of the orcish sentries stood at attention on the northeast wall. He hadn’t slept in days, and was dangerously close to nodding off. But he gripped his sword handle tighter and shook himself awake, knowing that he needed to stay at attention, just like his brothers and sisters that stood ready on the opposite wall, or at the forge sharpening their weapons. At any moment the cursed giants that had been attacking them from the nearby hills could swoop down upon them.

Just then there was a thunderous crash at the treeline and his head snapped in that direction.

“We’ve got something over here!” he called as loudly as he could to the others of his clan, wanting to be sure they heard him, but not wanting to take his eyes away for a second.

Sure enough, the monstrous figure of a man easily twice as tall as the wall he stood on emerged from the darkened forest.

“Alright everyone, over the wall!” Ugor ordered as she vaulted over the fence “Lob, Ogol, you two hit it from the left. Keep the giant distracted while I hack at its-“

Before she could finish, another four of the gangly brutes came stomping into view, raising their clubs and grunting angrily.

“Gods…” Ugor breathed as she raised her shield ready to stand and fight, knowing this would likely be the end of her and her kin either way.

“FUS RO DAH FUSRIIN! (Force balance push shockwave)” came a great roaring voice, and a sixth giant was sent flying out of the trees, several large branches following in its path.

“What in the world…” Ugor mouthed as a shadow darted out of the woods as well, landing atop the downed giant and severing its head.

Swiftly as the first, another giant lost both its legs, fell to the ground and was relieved of its head as well.

Another three giants turned to face this new foe and began wildly stomping and swinging their clubs at the ground, causing great craters but not coming anywhere close to hitting their agile mark. And within moments, another two had joined the dead.

Ugor was so distracted by this display that she barely noticed the final giant rearing up to flatten her with its fist. She quickly sidestepped and raised her shield, but the blow still sent her sprawling.

She was about to recover and roll out of the way of a subsequent kick, but the giant was suddenly struck in the face with a bolt of frost that shattered on impact, a bit of cover from their shaman in the stronghold. It barely did more than anger the brute, but it also gave just enough time for her battle companions to leap from the wall onto the monster’s back, stabbing and bludgeoning it while it flailed to get them off.

Seeing her chance, Ugor gripped her sword and rushed forward, driving her blade deep into the giant’s gut.

The giant howled in pain, slapping her away and tearing her allies from itself before throwing them to the ground as well.

It raised its weapon over its head, a tree trunk nearly as wide as itself, preparing the killing blow as its prey tried to scramble to their feet.

“Krah Toor Haar! (cold inferno pillar)”

Suddenly the giant was engulfed from head to foot in a blaze of blue flames. Through the din the orcs managed a glimpse of a bloodstained elf in the dark, her stance and face devoid of emotion and thought, and her dead gaze seemingly staring right through them.

The giant reached up to the sky and howled in defiance as its body was frozen from the inside out by the flames licking it. Frost formed in its blood and slowly pushed out of its leather-like skin. Finally, it stood still, and all was quiet.

The orcs regained their posture and let their gaze wander in silence from the corpses of six giants littering the ground outside their stronghold, to the elf standing ten feet away with her sword hanging limply in her hand.

“We… we did it? We’re alive?” Lob asked slowly.

“YEAH!” he and Gularzob yelled their triumphant cries, thrusting their weapons into the air.

But Ugor noticed as the elf perked up, and how her head eerily twitched in their direction.

With three great strides she was upon them, impaling Gularzob through his gut with her sword, pinning him to the ground.

“Grah! What the fu- ARAAHH!” he screamed as the elf twisted her sword’s blade.

“Hey, get off em!” Lob yelled and tried to drag the elf away, but only succeeded in wrestling her sword away before she kicked him off and began strangling him with her bare hands. The small bosmer was doing a good job of making it hard to breathe, even though orcs had naturally bulky muscles around their necks and everywhere else.

“Stop this now! We have no quarrel with you, outsider.” Ugor tried to reason with her.

The elf gave a swift headbutt to the bridge of Lob’s nose, sending him to the ground in a fit of pain before turning on her.

Ugor raised her shield and sword, backing up defensively. In all her years guarding the stronghold, she’d never found herself so fearful of a foe, let alone a single elf. “I will fight you if I must, back off now!” she warned, though unlike most times it was more of a bluff than anything.

“What is going on out here?!” a large orc in heavy armor demanded as he marched out of the gate with his axe raised “Are the giants dead?” he then saw his kinsmen on the ground and cowering before a bosmer a head and a half shorter than each of them.

“Are you kidding me?” he said as though offended by their weakness “Kill this outsider and get back on the wal- HU-Gurk!”

The elf had taken advantage of his lowered guard and was now pinning him to the wall of his own fortress by the handle of his own axe, choking the life from him and crushing his windpipe, seemingly ignoring the punches and kicks he delivered to try and get free, or at least some breathing room.

“Nrg- No… Not… like this!” he squawked out.

But to the orc chieftain’s good fortune, help was on the way. A familiar pair of hands wrapped around the bosmer’s head, shoving a mixture of herbs into her nose and mouth. Within a few long moments, her muscles relaxed and she went limp, falling to the ground and releasing her victim.

Growling as he retrieved his axe, the orc was about to show the outsider what happens when you mess with a chieftain.

“Wait Yamarz!” Atub stopped him “Spare this one. I have a feeling she’s just who we need.” She spoke cryptically as always.

Giants and dastardly deeds (part 2)

Fenora’s eyes slowly opened, a few early streams of sunlight blinding her with their brilliance. She groaned as her senses awoke with her and her head started pounding again.

“Grh, oh, were are I?” she moaned “How much did I drink last night?”

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Came a coarse voice beside her.

Fenroa tilted her head to see an orc woman sitting near her mixing some powders, a shaman by the look of her robes and face paint. She tried to get up, but found her hands and were bound together around a large tree trunk, her feet tied in a similar manner around one of the large roots, preventing any kind of productive movement.

“Ah yes, I apologize for the ropes. But we had to take precautions.” Atub told her.

Frowning, Fenora focused on the ropes around her arms and legs. “Kren dii grin! (Break my bonds)” And the ropes were torn asunder, allowing Fenora to get to her feet.

But no sooner had she stood up, then a wave of pain surged through her, crumpling her to the ground as she coughed up more blood.

“Yes, I wouldn’t keep doing that if I were you.” Atub motioned casually and continued mixing a bowl of a chalky red substance “You were in a pretty bad way last night. But I force-fed you most of my stock of reagents, you seem to be doing fine now. Which reminds me… here, take this.” She handed Fenora a spoonful of the powder and a cup of water.

Fenora didn’t question and eagerly drank it, though the unpleasant dryness and taste made her cringe. “What was that; medicine?” she asked once she’d washed down the foul-tasting stuff.

“Sedative. It took four whole doses of this particular blend to keep you out last night” Atub corrected, chuckling when Fenora went woozy and sprawled on the ground like a puddle. “You nearly killed every one of us actually.”

“Sorry.” Fenora said, being the only thing she could manage to mutter.

“Well… you also saved us immediately before, so I guess that makes up for most of it.” Atub rubbed her chin “Ah, but no matter. We’ve still bigger problems to deal with, problems I have no doubt you could help us to solve.”

Fenora was in no position to add to the conversation, so Atub simply continued.

“You see, for many moons our tribe has been cursed. Malacath, our god, is displeased with us, and our chief Yamarz has become afflicted with a terrible sickness. Because he is weak, our tribe is weak. The giants like the ones you aided us against last night can sense this weakness among us, and have besieged us non-stop ever since.”

Atub paused to collect herself, choose her next words carefully, and make sure no-one else was listening to closely.

“Yamarz is a good leader, as was his father. But… his solution is a terrible one.” Atub said as though she’d just spoken sacrilege “He wishes for us to wall ourselves away, to refuse help from anyone, even our own kin from the other strongholds. If this keeps up, we’ll all be wiped out, slowly but surely.”

“So what can I do?” Fenora said, managing to get into a sitting position.

“I’ve been trying to contact Malacath, but he praises only strength, something we have not shown. And so he ignores my pleas for guidance.” Atub knelt down to Fenora’s level and took her head in her hands “But you! You are far stronger than any of us! I am hesitant to bring an outsider into our affairs, but times are desperate; perhaps with you in our midst, Malacath shall answer.”

“M’kay.” Fenora said through her squished cheeks.

“Again with these pointless rituals Atub?” Yamarz said, looking very bored as he stood around the séance stone with the others in the stronghold.

“I refuse to believe Malacath would abandon us without a chance to prove ourselves.” Atub said as she aligned several items; a troll’s hide, a handful of bear teeth, a few jars of red mush that no-one wished to know more about… “You, elf, I’ll need your help for this. Place your hands on the altar with me.”

“My name’s Fenora.” She told her and did as the shaman said. “What exactly are we trying to do here?”

“Yes, what are you trying to do Atub?” Yamarz butted in “You bring an outsider into our home against my wishes, after she tried to kill us nonetheless! And now you’re wasting your time on these stupid rituals!” he yelled, spit coming from his mouth as he got in Atub’s face and jabbed a finger into her chest.

“The only waste of time here is you Yamarz, you pathetic weakling.” Fenora spoke, her voice deeper and heavily distorted. The rest of the camp, which had already been keeping a respectable distance from Fenora after her assault last night, now backed up even further.

But Yamarz was too angry to care. “You dare insult ME!?” he shifted the direction of his anger “I’ll have your head you stupid elf!”

“I would have yours… for speaking like that to a god!” Fenora yelled back, her eyes coated in black. The world seemed to darken around her as she marched up to Yamarz, who was suddenly on the verge of cowering before her.

“It worked!” Atub said with a mixture or joy and reverence “Malacath has answered us, and speaks through her!”

“That’s right… I have arrived, this champion acts as my voice to- wait. Did you say HER?!” Malacath questioned Atub and quickly patted down his vessel. “Oh this is so embarrassing for me. Are you seriously telling me that even this puny elf is stronger than you now, Yamarz? First you let giants, filthy lumbering GIANTS, take over my shrine to use as theirs toilet, and now THIS!?” Malacath shook Fenora’s head “You don’t deserve to call yourself an orc.”

Yamarz could only stand there baffled, his clansmen’s support for him wavering after being told off by those whom they all worshiped.

“It should be clear what you must do Yamarz. Go to Fallowstone Cave, rid my shrine of this plague… and give it a good scrubbing while you’re at it. In fact, scrub it with the blood of the alpha giant! And then set it on fire!” Malacath ordered, finally content with the awesomeness factor.

“Would you like to add fries and a shake for ten septims more?” Fenora joked.

“Quiet woman!” Malcath wrestled for control of her body “Go Yamarz. Prove to us all what it means to be a true orc! Only then shall I lift this curse.”

And with that, Malacath released control of Fenora’s body for good, returning to Oblivion to… I don’t know, do some crunches and sit-ups or something.

Protein powder yo.

Now that their god had spoken, the orcs had their full attention on Yamarz, waiting for him to speak.

The chieftain let out a disgruntled sigh. “Then I shall venture out for Fallowstone Cave!” he said with forced enthusiasm “Give me a moment to prepare, and I shall end this curse once and for all.”

His kinsmen cheered and praised him as he left to his longhouse to gather equipment and weapons.

“You see Ugor? Everything will be fine now. And you had your doubts about this outsider.” Atub lightly chided her friend.

Ugor huffed “She still attacked us you know. But now Yamarz will save us, just like he always has.”

Atub rolled her eyes and turned to Fenora. “And thank you for helping us.”

“Of course. Sorry again about the whole trying-to-murder-you-in-a-blind-killing-frenzy thing.” Fenora rubbed the back of her head “Things haven’t been going too well for me lately.”

“You are forgiven.” Atub put a hand on her shoulder “Please, join us for breakfast. I believe this will be the first calm meal we’ve had in a very long time.”

“No way! You’re the legendary Dragonborn?!” Gularzob said, leaning over the table with stars in his eyes, despite the fact that doing so had reopened his wound.

“That is so freaking cool bra.” Lob agreed.

“It’s not like I had much choice.” Fenora told them, setting aside her half-eaten goat leg “One day I just happen to kill a dragon and absorb its soul and BAM! I’ve gotta save the world.” She let out a sigh “I should have been back in High Rock tending my farm by now; the place is probably falling apart on me as we speak.”

“You speak of being a hero like it’s a bad thing.” Garakh said questioningly, pausing with her meal as well.

“It’s not bad really, it’s just…” Fenora searched for the right words “Inconvenient… and really tiresome. But if I don’t do something, I know there isn’t anyone else who will. Or at least they haven’t come up to me and said ‘Hey I’m the hero now, leave this to me!’ and I’d be like ‘Cool! Dragons be that way.’, happy ending.”

“Well, I for one am glad you were able to pause in your quest to aid us.” Atub told her “Those giants would have likely crushed us had you not come along.”

“But Yamarz is the one who will truly free us from this scourge!” Ugor chimed in, feeling the outsider was getting more praise than their leader. “Isn’t that right Yamarz?!” she called over to him while he walked to the exit.

It was strange, for one with such a large presence; Fenora hadn’t even noticed him until now.

“Hm? Uh, yes. I must be off!” he waved to them.

Fenora watched as he left, hefting a large pack over his shoulder and struggling to keep it from falling off his back. “Thanks for the meal guys, but I’ve gotta go too.” She said, eyeing the direction Yamarz left in.

…

Yamarz huffed as he struggled to keep his pace up, but he would have to. “Gotta get away from here…” he said to himself “No way I’ fighting a whole tribe of giants…”

“Hey!” A voice called out behind him, making him flinch. “Yamarz!”

“Oh great…” he turned to face the elf, if he played this right he could still walk away without a scuffle “Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there.” he said with a winning smile “You’re that outsider that helped us, Fenris right?”

“Fenora.” she corrected him.

“Right, that. Is there something I can help you with? I’ve kinda got a giant to fight.” He said, gritting his teeth trying to maintain this chipper attitude.

“You certainly seem prepared for it.” Fenora motioned with a nod to his bulging pack.

“Well you know… giants. Gotta be ready for anything… right?” Yamarz awkwardly shifted under Fenora’s calm yet scrutinizing gaze.

“Oh yes, of course.” Fenora then pulled her arms out from behind her back, revealing a pouch full of gold coins and small gems “I’m sure this will be enough to bribe them.”

Yarmarz’s eyes went wide. “Where did-“

“It fell off your belt just outside the stronghold. And I’m guessing you don’t just carry around enough money to buy a house everywhere you go.” She glared at him “So… about those giants.”

Yamarz’s brow cringed and he threw his bag at Fenora. She avoided the massive weight, but was instead grabbed up by the giant orc, who pinned her against a nearby tree.

“This is all YOUR fault!” he screamed in her face.

Fenora grabbed the handle of her sword with her left hand, unsheathing it so it would cut across Yamarz’s chest with a single movement. He immediately dropped her and backstepped, bringing out his axe.

“I’m not the one abandoning my tribe!” Fenora circled him with her sword poised to strike “They trust you, they look up to you! Now you’re robbing them and running like a coward!”

“Stupid outsider, you know nothing!” Yamarz spat “I’m already weak from this curse, barely slept in weeks! And you just had to come along and interfere. Now I have to fight a giant because of you! There’s no way I’m going to die for nothing.”

“And there’s no way I’ll just let those people get wiped out because of your selfishness!” Fenora countered.

“Then how ‘bout you kill that giant instead?! Head that way until you reach the cave with Malacath’s damn shrine and clear it out, if you care so much.” Yamarz pointed in a direction to the northwest “I’m out of here.”

And with that he picked up his pack and kept running before Fenora could retort.

“Huh, clear it out myself. ’S not a bad idea.” She mumbled to herself before quickly checking herself over, sheathing her sword and heading in the direction of Fallowstone cave.

Stross and Barbas walked side by side in silence down the dirt paths outside Whiterun as the sun was slowly rising into the sky, and farmers were heading into their fields to start the day.

Stross swiveled his eyes to the dog and then looked away, and Barbas did the same in return.

“I said I was sorry.” Stross whined like a little kid would whine to their parents after egging a neighbor’s house.

“I can’t believe you screwed up the cake heist because of some stupid random PTSD.” Barbas said bitterly “You weren’t even at that stupid invasion, bug-brain! What’re you complaining about?”

“That’s not the point!” Stross yelled back, a bit louder and more suddenly than he wanted to, but he couldn’t help it “Things are bad for changelings in Equestria. I mean really bad; they always have been, and mostly 'cause we won't stop being evil. But I mean you look around and all you see are cute little ponies, all happy and friendly, no hostility. All the monsters like Manticores, and harpies, and deathmaws are all kept outside the borders of Equestria. But then…”

Stross did a little jig while he sang “One of these ponies is not like the other ones, one of these ponies just isn’t the same…” he stopped his impromptu dance number for a more serious tone “Changelings are terrifying to ponies. The only reason they never bothered to fear us all the time is because they didn’t know we existed; they thought we were myths and legends, stories to tell around a campfire.”

He let out a remorseful sigh. “Ever since that colossal failure of an invasion, we’ve been front and center in ponys’ minds. I know some of our factions are pretty bad, and should be feared for a reason, but I’m pretty sure changelings aren’t un-killable devils from Tartarus that can bend your will to theirs with a single thought and make you slaughter your own loved ones while we revel in your pain and misery.

“But that’s apparently what ponies think we are, and honestly I’m not sure how many believe it or not. Maybe that’s the real reason they haven’t tried hunting us down in our own territory, not because of mercy, but out of fear. I have to wonder what would have happened if we had tried to broker peace on first contact instead of declare war.” Stross rubbed his chin “What if we’d shown up in a crisis, aiding them instead of fighting them. We could have been heroes! We could have been-“

“Gods above! Are you still talking?’ Barbas cut him off. “And to think Clavicus calls me a chatterbox. Anyway, we're here. So look sharp, and don’t mess this up like the last one.”

“Okay!” Stross enthusiastically jogged off.

He then enthusiastically jogged right back. “What are we doing again?” he asked with a sheepish grin.

Barbas face-pawed. “Oh for the love of all that’s- Weren't you even listening to Clavicus back at... We’re here to ruin Honningbrew’s reputation. The owner, Sabjorn, wanted it to be a hot success, but he stupidly came to Clavicus for help. The head of the city guard and a contingent of his men are scheduled to attend an ‘inspection’ this morning. Use your brain, buggy.”

“Hmm, I’m going to scope the place out first!” Stross decided and switched on an invisibility spell, leaving his form little more than a rippling blur.

…

Once he’d cleared the small distance to the meadery and sidled up to the front door, Stross quickly pushed it open and slipped inside to the nearest corner. Immediately he witnessed a rather uncomfortable scene.

“Mallus how many times must I tell you!?” an older man with a receding hairline shouted at one of his subordinates who was sitting at a nearby table reading a book “The guards will be here any minute, and you still haven’t cleaned this place up! Honestly, what do I pay you for?”

Mallus looked up with a bored expression. “You don’t pay me, you son of a whore. I should never have taken that loan all those years ago.”

“I pay you with strong work ethics!” Sabjorn threw a broom at Mallus so the handle smacked him in the face “Now get sweeping! I need to check on the brewery.”

Another man sidled in after Sabjorn had left. “You know he’d probably go easier on you if you just did your work, right?”

“Oh I’m sorry Eimar, I believe kissing his ass is your job; you volunteered so eagerly after all.” Mallus snarked “Sod off. I’ve got work to not do.”

Eimar just shook his head in shame before leaving as well. Stross silently stepped around the entrance and behind the counter, trying to get his bearings before planning his first move. If what he just saw from Sabjorn was any indication of how he worked, he definitely deserved to be taken down a peg.

“You’re not very good at this are you?” came Mallus’s uncaring droll “I can tell you’re there. If you’re going to steal anything, I recommend checking the safe in Sabjorn’s office; the key is under his pillow.”

“Wait what?” Stross asked, dropping his invisibility and walking over to the inattentive worker.

“Oh, well look at that, a Nightingale of all things. You must be a newbie if I can see you.” Mallus said, his interest perking up by the tiniest bit “But like I said, do as you wish. I couldn’t care less what happens to this place, or that conniving bastard Sabjorn.”

Stross thought about this. Mallus already knew the ins and outs of Honningbrew, and could help him reach his goal. “So you know a way I could sabotage Sabjorn’s reputation?”

Mallus handed him a book. “Here,” he said “It’s my personal wishlist of things I’ve been wanting to do to the bastard.”

Stross gave Mallus a look of surprise, but began flipping through the pages anyway. In the book was described everything from torture, to murder, to political scandal the likes of which would take years to accomplish, and even then most of it only seemed possible in dreams.

Stross was pale by the time he’d finished half the book. “Uh, do you have anything milder?” he asked as he passed it back.

Mallus frowned, but turned his head to the door as his ears caught something. “Guards are here. Get lost.”

Stross didn’t need to be told twice, and quickly darted downstairs into the basement where all the barrels of mead were stored. Apparently Mallus really was negligent when it came to his duties, as there were rats and cobwebs everywhere in the musty dusty cellar. He had made himself hidden not a moment too soon either, as he heard the door swing open loudly and several pairs of armored boots stomp in.

“Well, Sabjorn, the boys and I are here for our weekly inspection.” a firm and commanding voice said with a distinct lack of actual authority “You've taken care of your little pest problem, haven’t you?”

Stross recloaked to peek outside at the events unfolding.

“Ah yes, here at Honningbrew you’ll find only the finest quality in both out mead, and our establishments. I think you’ll find this place is quite up to standards.”

Suddenly a mouse scampered across the floor.

“Eh-heh, as long as you don’t look too hard.” Sabjorn chuckled while giving a quick glare to Mallus.

“When do we get to sample the mead?” one of the eight guards asked bluntly.

“Ah yes, of course…” Sabjorn moved around the counter to the taps, happy for a change of subject “Help yourself, gentlemen. This is my finest brew yet... I call it Honningbrew Reserve. I think you'll find it quite pleasing to your palate, but I do recommend caution; the taste can be dangerously incredible.” He joked.

“Now this is what I’m talking about.” The guard captain grabbed the first mug “Let’s all find out if Honningbrew has ‘passed inspection’, eh fellas?”

The rest of the guards joined him in a rousing toast, drinking the amber liquid down with gusto.

It was then that a delivery boy came up from the cellar carrying a large, dirty-looking crate. “Hey boss, here’s that spider venom and skeever droppings you wanted for the mead!” he said in a loud and overdramatic tone.

Several of the guards coughed, sputtered and spit up their drink all over the floor.

“Guardsmen I assure you, I can explain I- Just wait. Hold on here a minute.” Sabjorn walked over to the delivery boy “What are you doing here?” He hissed in Stross’d ear “You weren’t supposed to get here with this delivery until tomorrow.”

“Wait, what? You actually put spider venom in your mead?!” the delivery boy said, clearly confused.

Sabjorn stepped back “Wait… you’re not the guy that delivers the spider venom and skeever droppings! What is going on here?!”

“What’s ‘going on here’ Sabjorn, is that you’re under arrest!” the guard captain stormed over and drew his sword “Trying to profit off of tainted mead; I’ll see you rot in the dungeon for this! Now move!”

“This is impossible, there must be some kind of mistake. There’s no law against this kind of practice, mead is poison anyway!” Sabjorn yelled as a guard dragged him off.

Many of the guards gasped in disbelief, one even shrieked like a lady and fainted.

“We’ll have you charged with sacrilege as well you imperial, tea-loving, mead hater!” the captain spat in his face “Take him away! You there,” he pointed to Mallus “You’re in charge now.”

Mallus jumped up in an uncharacteristic display of pure joy. “Yes! Suck it Sabjorn, Mallus Maccius is in control now!” he threw his hands in the air and taunted his former boss. “Eimar… get me a sandwich.”

Outside the meadery, hidden from view around a corner, a young delivery boy dove out an open window where his canine companion was waiting. A pulse of red embers washed over him to reveal his true form.

“Well that worked better than I could have hoped.” Stross said as he discarded his makeshift delivery boy getup and redonned his Nightingale armor “Aaannd it turned out Sabjorn neither conformed to workers’ rights, or to quality control. I’m not evil for doing this, yay!”

“I gotta admit, ya did good in there. It was easy work and you barely did anything anyway, but ya did good.” Barbas gave him a nod. “Now let’s get back to Clavicus and-“

“AAAHHH! Oh gods they’re all over the place!” came a frantic yell from the front of the meadery.

Barbas shifted his eyes back and forth. “… let’s get back to-“

“So many teeth!”

“Let’s-“

“Won’t someone help us?!”

“… le-“

“Screw it, I’m going out there!” Stross ignored Barbas and charged around the corner, igniting his hands, ready for anything.

The scene he found was one of utter chaos; giant skeevers were swarming the yard in front of the meadery, pouring out of the building full of boiling vats. The guards were fighting a losing battle, many of them were already on the ground, parilized by the skeevers’ venom and frothing at the mouth. The captain and the two guards that had not already fallen were frantically hacking, kicking and stomping the giant rats away.

Meanwhile, an elderly mage clothed in fur and a cloak of shredded leather stood among them with his arms outstretched. “They laughed at me, they said I was mad! But now I’ll show them, I’ll show them all!” he laughed manically “Go my swarming brethren! Go and devour all who stand before you! Show them that Hamelyn the rat master will not take their insults and disgrace lying down! Vengeance!”

“Aw rats.” Stross muttered before taking to the sky and condensing a volatile ball of fire.

Fenora stood outside the entrance to Fallowstone cave. There were telltale signs of giants living there; painted rocks, and stings of bones littering the entrance.

Drawing her sword, Fenora took a deep breath and walked through the narrow passage. How any giant managed to fit through was beyond her.

Inside Fallowstone was beautiful. It was a large cave hollowed out of the mountain, with large pine trees growing up towards the light granted by hole in the ceiling. Snow drifted down through that hole as well, and anything that melted at the top flowed down as a waterfall that eventually became a branching stream of rivers that flowed through the rest of the cave.

But Fenora didn’t come there for sightseeing, and even through its splendor, she could see even more evidence of the giant’s presence. There were bloodstains, piles of shattered animal bones, and more of those painted rock shrines everywhere.

It seemed as though she was not the first to enter this place either. Immediately to her right was the corpse of a bandit, or perhaps a mercenary. It was hard to tell with how smashed in their torso was.

Fenora knelt down to the dead woman, and gave a customary moment of silence before looting her remains for any choice bits of gear.

With a few extra pieces of gold, a couple small heath potions, and a new satchel to carry them in, Fenora cautiously crept deeper into the cave.

…

The journey to the end of the cave was surprisingly uneventful. After traversing some natural steps made by a series of small drop-offs, and dispatching a single giant lurking about via a sneak attack and subsequent impaling, Fenora found yet another dead body.

“Huh, you know I thought this would be way harder.” She said to the fallen orc as she pulled his shield off his arm and slung it over her back “I thought these giants would be stronger, or at least there would be more of them. But they can’t even swing those clubs straight.”

The dead orc responded by being a dead orc.

“I guess all the others are out hunting. Or maybe I just killed the rest when they were attacking the stronghold.” Fenora surmised “Anyway, thanks for the stuff buddy.” She thanked the corpse as she pocketed his loose change and lockpicks. And with that, she moved on to defeat the dungeon boss.

As she entered the final area, Fenora found the gaint’s leader. It was a massive thing, even taller and larger than a regular giant, wielding an entire massive tree trunk as its weapon. The leader and three of its underlings sat around a giant bonfire in front of the shrine to Malacath, roasting a whole mammoth, tusks, hide and all.

She crept up a bit closer and watched them, devising a plan of attack.

Then one of the giants got up and walked over to Malacath’s shrine. It unzipped its loincloth, and there was the distinct sound of liquid hitting rock. After a few seconds it let out a satisfied grunt and trudged back over to the fire.

“Well… I guess that’s better than using a shrine as decoration.” Fenora muttered.

Apparently the giants’ leader had heard this, as it stood up and thrust its chest forward in a “Come at me bro” stance.

Fenora decided that her cover was officially blown, and stepped into the open, drawing her sword and shield. She stood there in what was admittedly a pretty epic pose, weapons at the ready, standing there like a badass as a slight breeze ran through her hair and coat.

The giants stood there looking at her for a second, seemingly confused for some reason. They then looked between each other scratching their heads. One made a motion of grasping at its chest with its hands, looking to the others for confirmation.

The others looked back at her before nodding.

Then, one by one they started snickering. The snickering soon became hooting laughter as the gangly brutes stared making what looked to be vaugely effeminate gestures and laughing more. It took a second for it to click in her brain, but once she did, Fenora was outraged by what they were saying. And it basically boiled down to this;

(“Come at me bro!”)

(“Hold up bro, is that a chick facing us down? Are you guys seeing this too bro?”)

(“Yeah bro, that’s totally a chick.”)

(“Bro that’s crazy, everyone knows chicks can’t fight!”)

(“Right bro? They're all like Oh look at me, I’m a big tough lady hero. Oh no- I chipped a nail! Bah hahaha!”)

(“Oh, let me try. Ahem… I might smear my makeup if I fall. HA ha ha!”)

(Umm... Periods.)

(...)

(“HA-HAH HA HO-HAHA! Good one bro.”)

Well Fenora wasn’t taking none o’ that smack!

“Oi! Are you dude-bros questioning my awesomeness because of my gender?! My inherent badass factor is more than a match for your testosterone fueled tomfoolery!” she yelled taking an even more aggressive stance. “How ‘bout you come over here and say that to my face!? I’ll show you what a proper beating feels like! I'll hit you right in your incredibly vulnerable man-parts!”

One of the giants grunted and jabbed a finger at her before crossing its arms as if saying “Those words had too many syllables. Say you’re sorry!”

The leader shoved the others out of the way and stood to accept Fenora’s challenge, grunting something along the lines of “Chill out bro, I got this.”

The giant hefted its massive log above its head and brought it down with a force that shook the earth, but expectedly, its target had moved out of the way the second it began choreographing its attack.

It was prepared for this however, and quickly shifted its body to drag its club sideways in a large and fast sweeping motion that caught the elf in its arc, getting her airborn in the process.

Fenora managed to recover from the blow and land on her feet. The size of the log actually helped distribute the force of the impact rather than increase it, but she knew a direct hit would be the end of her. She dashed forward and swung her blade, carving a mark in the giant’s massive boot and into its leg.

The giant seemingly shrugged this off though, clearly made of tougher stuff than its lesser brethren, and used that very same leg to punt the elf across the battleground as the others cheered it on.

Fenora got up with a grunt, her ribs aching from that kick. It was time to bring it up a notch.

“Iiz Slen Nus!” she used the Ice Form shout, catching the giant in its wake and freezing it over “KREN! (shatter)”

The ice did shatter, but not like she’d hoped. Instead of turning to a bunch of frozen meat bits, the giant had resisted the initial ice form shout, and when the ice broke it simply left a series of bloody gashes and frostbite.

The giant roared. (Aw 'blivion naw, you did not just give me the cold shoulder dude-chick-bro!)

It charged forward, and Fenora made to dodge but her movements were more sluggish than before. When the giant brought his club down a second time, she had no choice but to block it with her shield.

There was a clang of metal denting and bending, wood being splintered, and the sickening sound of bone snapping as Fenora was smashed into the ground. She cried out in pain as the log was dragged off her, and she was forced to roll out of the way of a killing blow.

She breathed heavily, looking to her arm hanging limply from her side with the remains of a shield still clinging to it.

Gritting her teeth, Fenora called upon her thu’um once more. “Rathol Nah Do Qo Wah Dii Zahkrii! (Channel the fury of lightning to my sword.)”

With her echoing call, her sword’s black blade was encased in lighting, and a chorus like a thousand birds drowned out nearly all other noise.

Fenora charged forward towards the giant. It raised its massive club to block her assault, but she struck it, and the tree trunk was torn in half, splinters flying everywhere.

“Chidori blade!” Fenora yelled as she leapt and drove her sword into the giant’s chest. “Fus, Krentaan Dii Paal! (Force, sunder my foe.)”

As soon as the words left her mouth and were channeled through her blade, a great pulse of energy was forced into the giant’s body, liquefying its organs, and causing its limbs to fly off while a geyser of blood erupted from its mouth.

Fenora slowly turned her head to face the other three giants, who were trembling in fear at this point.

One of them threw its hands up and let out a most undude-like shriek. (Shit be whack, yo!)

The others quickly agreed with it and they ran away, scrambling up the sides of the cave to escape.

Fenora heaved a sigh of relief, droplets of blood falling from her mouth and the headaches returning. The adrenaline from the fight wearing off as well and letting her know just how badly she was hurt. With her good arm she reached into her satchel for the healing potions, but to her misfortune, she found that all but one had been destroyed at some point during the fight.

Sighing, she set it carefully on the ground and removed the remains of her shield, having to forcefully pry the twisted metal off. It was not exactly pleasant.

She rolled back the sleeve of her armor to find that the bone was sticking out through her skin, but at least it looked to be in one piece. Gritting her teeth, Fenora fought through the pain as she realigned the bone.

Quickly uncorking the healing potion, she took a small sip of it before pouring the rest into the open gash in her arm. The gash closed up quickly enough, leaving only a small red line to show it had been there in the first place. The bones inside were probably a different story however, and she’d likely need a couple more potions and some rest before they healed completely.

She smirked at a thought that just occurred. “If Stross were here, he would have fixed me to mint condition by now. He’d probably scold me on how reckless I was too… and then I’d just hug him and say I’d be more careful next time… and he’d say ‘no you won’t’ but hug me back anyway.” she chuckled to herself “And he’d be right.

“Where is Stross right now?” she wondered.

“Wherever he is, he’s probably safer than you’re about to be!” came a familiar mocking voice “But regardless, thanks for taking care of that giant for me.”

Fenora got to her feet to face the chieftain. “I didn’t do it for you, you coward. You left, remember? I did this so the others at the stronghold wouldn’t be killed.”

“Whatever. What matters is you did it!” Yamarz declared, though it was far from congratulatory “That means I can go back and tell them all that I did it! Unfortunately, that means I can’t let you leave here alive; wouldn’t want you telling anyone the truth after all.”

“Are you stupid or something?” Fenora asked him “I just killed a giant- ‘Blivion, I killed six more at your stronghold! Why in the world do you think you could take me on and win?”

*Fwip*

A poison dart stuck in Fenora’s neck, and suddenly her body locked up on her. “Gard… derrnit!” she managed to growl from behind her teeth.

Yamarz strutted up to her, casually discarding his blowgun in favor of his axe. “And now to end this.” He raised his axe to execute her.

“Well now that’s just cheating…” Malacath’s voice echoed in the back of Fenora’s mind.

Yamarz swung his axe, expecting to hear the satisfying sound of it cutting through bone.  But instead, all he got was a silent thwump.

Somehow, Fenora had managed to move her hand to intercept it. She grabbed the shaft and yanked it away in that moment of surprise.

“W-what, how!?” Yamarz backed up a few steps as Fenora stiffly got to her feet and glared at him.

“You want to know how?” Fenora growled as she grabbed him by the collar of his armor and miraculously lifted him off the ground “I’m the Dragonborm, motherfucker. Fus… RO DAH!”

The unrelenting force hit Yamarz in the face point blank, snapping his neck and killing him instantly.

“Yamarz was a coward. Always scheming his way out of responsibility.” Malacath spoke through his shrine as Fenora panted, letting Yamarz’s body fall to the ground “But you have done well; you have done what he could not, and rid my shrine of these disgusting creatures. You even managed to defeat Yamarz himself… with a little help from me of course.”

“So what now?” Fenora asked the daedra.

“Normally I’d make you the new chief.” Malacath told her “But seeing as how you’re neither an orc, nor a male, that just wouldn’t work.”

Fenora frowned “Are you seriou-“

“However!” Malacath cut her off “You’ve proven your strength. Here, take Volundrung, this big-ass hammer.” Suddenly a giant, spiky glowing warhammer appeared in her hands “Now go. Return to Largashbur and tell them that Gularzob is the new chief, I gotta do some more chin-ups.”

Giants and Dastardly deeds (part 3: the reunion-ing)

Honningbrew looked like a battleground; corpses of giant, mutated skeevers lay strew across the ground and hung limply from various objects, and in more than one place the ground itself had been scorched and blown apart.

But there was victory on this day! A squad of guards and their captain stood amongst the destruction, weary and still suffering from tetanus and rabies, but still alive.

The captain marched over to the wizard bandit to blame for it all. “Now let’s see who you really are!” he announced as he pulled off the wizard’s intimidating rat-shaped mask.

Everyone present gasped.

“Old man Hamelyn!” they said, all equally in shock.

“Yes it was me all along.” The elderly alchemist sneered “And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that meddling bug, and his stupid dog!” he spat at Stross and Barbas.

“Scooby-dooby fuck you too, pal.” Barbas retorted.

“We can’t thank you enough for your help here today. You’ve done our city a service yet again, changeling.” The guard captain thanked him.

“Not a problem captain, it’s what I do.” Stross accepted the praise like he figured a comicbook hero would. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Barbas and I need to see a certain Daedric prince about paying up on our deal.”

“Well you made it back, did you?” Clavicus spoke from his statue when Stross and Barbas arrived before him “And you’ve ruined Sabjorn for good?”

“If poisoning his product didn’t get him in trouble with the guard, then housing a dangerous fugitive bent on wiping out Whiterun sure did.” Stross informed him.

“Excellent!” Clavicus would have jumped for joy had he not been locked in a statue “I’ll have to tell Maven immediately; I’ll have all the mead I could ever drown people in! And maybe I can convince Maven herself to drop by and, ahem… ‘polish my shrine’ if you know what I mean. I swear that woman is a malicious bitch after my own heart. The two of us would have some real fun together, don’t you think?”

“Rriiiight… so about our deal?” Stross interrupted Clavicus’s rambling.

“Ah yes… the dog.” Clavicus turned a disgusted eye to Barbas, in thought for a moment before returning his stony gaze to Stross “How would you like to sweeten the deal for yourself?”

“What do you mean?” Stross asked cautiously, knowing full well how Clavicus worked.

“Have you heard of a weapon called the Rueful Axe?”

“You mean this?” Stross pulled out a viscous looking executioner’s axe, etched with an engraving of a suffering wolf, and pulsating with an unnatural energy.

“Yes I- Wait, what!? How in Oblivion do you have it?!?” Clavicus shouted, actually thrown for a loop for once.

“A kitty-cat named M’aiq gave it to me when I first got to Whiterun, and I can’t get rid of the stupid thing!” Stross said, trying to fling it away, only for it to remain attached to his palm.

“That conniving feline is really getting bothersome… I wonder what his game is.” Clavicus mumbled to himself “Anyway, yes! That is the Rueful Axe, it is a simple thing, but with many uses for those with a clever mind.”

“You mean like that clueless farmer, the one you told it would cure lycanthropy?” Barbas snarked accusingly.

“He said he didn’t want to see his daughter suffering as a werewolf, so I gave him the answer; make her a dead werewolf.” Clavicus explained in his casual yet remorseless way “But that’s beside the point, for now the axe has a new purpose, one I’ll quite enjoy. Changeling, I want you to use that axe… to kill Barbas.”

Stross and Barbas stood in silence after Clavicus’s decree.

“Dun dun DUUUUN!” Clavicus added his own sound effects.

“W-wait, hold on now buggy.” Barbas stammered, backing up apprehensively “Ya don’t have to do this, I can just leave ya alone if you want. I’ll find someone else to help me out, just don’t hack me up with that thing!” he shouted “It’ll take centuries to reconstitute my form from that kind of magic-fueled dismemberment! Who knows what kind of trouble Clavicus will cause in that time!?”

“Silence mutt!” Clavicus ordered “It’s now or never changeling. Kill Barbas, and you’ll get your wish, any wish you want!”

“N- no… no.” Barbas plead “Nnnnnnoooooooo-“

“Shut up!” Stross yelled at them both. “Let me get a word in edgewise, geez. Clavicus, I’m not going to kill Barbas. How about instead, you can have the Axe, and I get to keep Barbas.” He said, calmly placing the axe on the alter in front of Clavicus.

“Uh, What?” Clavicus said, baffled.

“What?” Barbas asked, equally shocked.

*Shatter!* “WHAT?!?!” came the angry comments from the readers, pre-emptively inserting themselves straight into the story “Are you kidding us!? Barbas was the most annoying character EVER! Why by the gates of Oblivion and Celestia’s glorious sun would you include him MORE?!”

“Yeah!” Stross told them, undeterred “I’ll take Barbas as my right hand minion until we save the world. After that he's free to do whatever. You’ll be rid of him for a while, and I get a new friend! Everyone wins! And let’s face it; you two need some time away from each other.”

“Y-you really mean it?” Barbas asked, slowly walking up to Stross’s side.

“Of course buddy. But let’s get one thing straight from now on. You follow me." he stated simply "Got it?”

“Eh-heh, sure thing boss.” Barbas chuckled sheepishly.

“So, you’d rather team up with some realm-hopping parasite than the daedric Prince of wishes?” Clavicus sneered “Well fine then! Go on, get out of here. And you can forget about your wish! Mark my words changeling, you’ll look back on this day with regret… regret at how you could have had it all, had you simply swallowed your compassion and done as I said! You’ll… you’re already gone aren’t you?”

The only response the spiteful deity received was the obnoxious chirping from one particularly loud cricket.

“Well, I guess it’s time to do what I always do when I’m alone.” Clavicus said to himself.

A small book titled The Yellow Book of Jokes appeared in his stone hand, and he flipped to a random page. “HA-hah ha-ha... Marvelous.”

By the time Stross had made it Riften with Barbas, it was already mid-afternoon. He was thankful Barbas had not talked his ears off the entire way, opting instead to simply keep pace with him, wagging his tale happily. Stross let out a contented sigh when he saw the waterside city come into view, pulling his Nightingale hood off to get a better look.

“Let’s get going, Fenora’s waiting for us in there.” he said, quickening his pace “I hope she’s okay.”

A large splash interrupted him though, and he looked around to find the source.

“Fen?” he mumbled when he saw the black-coated figure standing near the water’s edge, under a shady tree angrily throwing stones into the water.

He slowly and quietly stepped over, watching her. Fenora tossed a large, flat rock a couple times in her hand before throwing it across the water with much more force than was needed, causing it to ski across the surface several times before finally sinking.

Stross could feel how angry she was, tense and disturbed. But luckily, a brilliant idea came to him as he came within a few inches undetected.

“Hugs time!” he yelled and latched onto her from behind, his legs wrapping around her waist.

Fenora yelped in surprise and screamed while backing up, ramming backwards into the nearby tree. Stross immediately released her and she spun around, crushing him against the bark with a solid boot to the gut and drawing her sword against his throat.

“Okay… not hugs time. Got it.” he squeaked.

“Stross?” Fenoras eyes went wide and she immediately lowered her sword. Then she quickly made up for her mistake and scooped him up into her arms, nuzzling his cheek affectionately. “I’m sorry Stross. It can be hugs time whenever you want.”

Stross hugged her back, absorbing a bit of her energy as it washed over him. “Are you alright Fenora?” he asked into her ear, still holding on to her.

Fenora took a deep breath before answering. “Yeah, I guess. Not really. I won’t be using my thu’um any more, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What? Why not; shouting at stuff like a dragon is awesome.”

===(Expositional flashback!)(Wha wah wah)===

Fenora had just finished getting back to Largashbur after yet another burst of pain hit her, leaving her to pitifully drag her feet for the whole journey from Fallowstone. Luckily Yamarz had been courteous enough to leave the giant bag of stolen gold just outside the cave, and there had been a few potions within to keep her standing through the rest of the trip.

“I can’t believe Yamarz would do this to us.” Garakh shook her head like the others once Fenora concluded her tale of what happened. “This must be some kind of trick!”

“I don’t wish to believe he would go so far either, but in my heart I know the truth.” Atub sided with Fenora “Thank you for bringing back what he stole. And for doing what he could not. I can only hope that Gularzob will do a better job as chieftain.”

“I couldn’t just let you all get wiped out.” Fenora said to her before bringing her voice to a private whisper “You’ll make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble, right? After all, a leader is only as strong as those who follow them… or something like that.”

“Halt outsider! Stop!” came Ugor’s angry voice from the gates as a spryly messenger dashed past the walls.

He spotted Fenora and immediately jogged over. “I’ve been looking for you; got something I’m supposed to deliver, your hands only. Let’s see here…” he said, shifting on his feet but not actually looking through his pockets “A-hah!” a letter suddenly materialized in his hand which he quickly gave to her “It’s from the Greybeards of all people, what an honor. Looks like that’s it, got to go.”

“Yeah you’d better run!” Ugor yelled after him as Fenora opened the letter.

It read,

}(“Dear Dragonborn,

We have sensed a tremendous increase in the power of your voice. But we ask that you use it wisely, and with caution. For while your task of most importance may often demand that you use your gift to its full potential, balance and peace in all things is the way of the voice, and disregarding it will only lead to your suffering.

More importantly, your recent reckless use of the voice has had a tremendously adverse effect on our leader, Paarthunax. Quite simply put: you made Paarthunax cry.

I’m serious! He just sits atop the Throat of the World, spooning ice-cream into him mouth all day and night! We don’t even know where he got it all, but he won’t even talk with us anymore.

Please Dragonborn, whatever new thu’ums you’ve discovered, or even invented, please just stop abusing the voice so maliciously! I hope this letter reaches you soon, otherwise Paarthunax is going to get really fat at this rate.

Your friends and mentors, the Greybeards.”){

===(end of flashback)(… blarb)===

“So there you have it.” Fenora sighed “And I think they’re right, unfortunately. Whenever I use a shout, I always get some kind of… backlash from it; my head starts pounding, I start to bleed, and it even gets hard to see straight. I hate to say it, but I think I won’t be using that kind of thing anymore.”

“I’m sorry Fenora.” Stross patted her on the back “But at least you’re okay, that’s all that matters to me.” he leaned his head on her shoulder.

“Thanks Stross. Hey do you still have that Skeleton key? I’d really like to see it one more time.”

“Uh, no… I gave it back to Nocturnal already.”

Fenora grit her teeth “Oh… that’s… that’s fine. That’s just great.”

“Oh, and that reminds me, Luna’s back!” Stross said with a winning smile “And she’s looking for the Horn of Jurgan Windcaller for us!”

“That’s… actually really good news.” Fenora said, finally perking up for once “How close is she to getting it?”

“Umm, hold on a second.” Stross shuffled through his pockets until he found the dark purple gem Luna had given him. He turned it over a few times, wondering how to use it since Luna had never told him how. He eventually figured it out by channeling a bit of magic into it, making it glow slightly.

“Hello? Who is this?” came Luna’s voice from the stone, making it pulsate in time with her voice.

“Hi Luna, it’s Stross. I know you said you’d call me later tonight, but I just got back to Riften, and Fen wanted an update. How’re you doing?”

“Splendidly!” Luna answered happily “I hath already found the lost sunken temple, fetched the ancient tapestry within for the merchant king, and defeated a necromancer along the way! I am currently gathering shiny rocks for an old woman on the outskirts of what the natives refer to as Black Marsh. Hold one moment, friend.”

There was a shuffling of cloth from the other end of the gem, and a muffled transaction was overheard.

“Greetings, elderly one! I hast returned with many shiny stones for thee!” Luna said, with a loud crumbling sound quickly following.

“I only needed ten.” An old and raspy voice said blankly. “But no matter. Now, I can finally revive the great lord Cthulu, and bring madness and doom upon the world! Bwa-ha-hah-ha-h GAAAHHH!”

Stross and Fenora looked to each other in the ensuing silence.

“Ahem, I apologize for that brief interruption. It turns out the wicked crone t’was actually an evil cultist.” Luna told them sheepishly “She has been dealt a swift and righteous defeat, and my search continues.”

“W-wait! Luna.” Stross halted her “Would you like to… come back here for a while and… hang out?”

There was an awkward pause.

“Hang out?” Luna asked “As in the three of us… spend time together as friends?”

“Mm-hmm.”

In a flash of light Luna had appeared beside them, and in another motion she had dragged Stross into a hug that shattered several vertebrae. “Verily!” she announced in the Royal Canterlot Voice as Stross fell to the ground in pain.

“Aww, and who is this adorable canine companion?” Luna asked, leaning over to pet Barbas.

“The name’s Barbas, demi-daedra and all around amazing guy.” Barbas answered, taking both Luna and Fenora quite off guard, being a talking dog and all. “So boss, who’re these chicks ya got following you around? Are they hookers; ‘cause they look like hookers.”

“Watch thine foul tongue, tiny beast!” Luna commanded “We are a Princess of Equestria, Princess of the night, and thou shall treat us as such!”

“Oh, well excuuuuuusssse me, Princess.” Barbas scrunched up his face “It’s not my fault you have no sense of fashion. What’re you even wearing?”

“I shall have thee know that this elegant cloth wrap was a gift from the merchants of Valenwood.” Luna said indignantly, holding up a piece of her new outfit; a midnight colored dress with a cape that covered her shoulders and back while leaving her midriff exposed, and matching her flowing hair quite nicely.

“Right…” Barbas rolled his eyes “And the dominatrix-looking one in the leather?”

“That’s Fenora Tandis.” Stross introduced her “Dragonborn, owner of my hypothetical heart, and certified bad-ass.”

Barbas chuckled “Aw yeah, this is gonna be a hoot. C’mon, first round of drinks are on me!”

The Bee and Barb had its usual share of customers, the two that kept bickering, the one that was always scheming, Maven Black-Briar, and the others no one bothers to remember. But amid the idle chatter and clatter, there was one distinct noise that stood out.

“I lost ALL my minions!” Stross wailed as he let his head fall onto the barcounter with a thud.

“Cheer up Stross, they’re still around. They just work for someone else now.” Fenora consoled him.

“Indeed, and dids’t thou see how much good they’ve done for this city and its people?” Luna joined in.

“And look at all the money they gave us for them!” Fenora showed him one of many large bags of septims that had been given as payment by the Jarl.

“Half o’ that was profit from the three workin’ at the ‘Bunkhouse’. HAH! People like all kinds of special company ‘round here.” Barbas laughed as he continued lapping up his mead.

Stross sniffled and wiped the tears out of his eyes before glugging down another iced tea, and returning his face to the counter. “I’m sad. Sad…sad…sad…” he mumbled over and over.

Then, just as Fenora was rolling her eyes, the door to their right was thrown open and a terrified boy rushed in, frantically looking around for a place to hide.

“Hey kid, you’re not old enough to be in here, scram!” Keerava, the argonian barkeep shooed him away.

But he didn’t listen to her. In fact he ran up to the counter and started begging them for help. “Please don’t tell her I’m here! I can’t take it there anymore, so I’m running away just like Aventus did!”

Suddenly the doors flew open again, slamming against the walls. A frightening silhouette stood framed in the archway as a bolt of lightning pierced the sky… on a sunny afternoon… with no clouds in the sky… or dragons or mages around.

“So tell me…” the old crone rasped “Have any of you good people seen one of my filthy, snot-nosed brats run in her recently?” Her hawk-like eyes locked onto the frightened boy almost immediately. “Ah, there you are, you worthless little… come here.” she ordered, motioning with a jab of her finger towards the floor.

The boy said nothing, but he backed up fearfully and shook his head.

With uncanny speed for one so old, Grelod was on him in a second, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out screaming for his life.

“Halt!” Luna yelled after her, only to have a door slammed in her face.

“My friends, I must depart from our consuming of refreshing beverages, and postpone our hanging out. There is a crime that I must bring to justice.” She told them darkly.

“Right here with you.” Fenora told her, with Stross getting up to follow.

Fenora was about to bust open Honorhall with her signature door opening technique, when Stross jumped in front of her.

“WAAAIIIIT!” he yelled with his hand up. “Just wait a second! I met Aventus Aritino in Windhelm, and he told me how bad this Grelod the kind is; he even wanted to summon a group of assassins to un-alive her, and thought I was one of them at first. But he was exhausted, and he’d dug up a whole corpse and dragged it back to his house. That’s crazy! What if this is all just a huge misunderstanding?”

“And what if it’s not?!” Fenora countered.

“And what if it is?!” Stross retorted “Let’s take this slow for once. Let’s just go in, and take stock of the situation instead of going in swords slinging. Okay?”

Luna and Fenora glanced at each other, and then at the large number of guards that had gathered around.

Deciding it wasn’t a bad idea to be sensible, they nodded reluctantly.

Stross thanked them, and quietly turned the doorknob.

“Welcome to Honorhall Orphanage.” A warm, cheerful voice greeted them “My name is Constance Michel, h-how may I help you today?”

Stross stepped forward to do the talking. “Well, we just saw Grelod drag a boy back here, kicking and screaming. And we were wonder-“

“Is the lad alright?!” Luna butted in, literally shoving Stross aside with her hindquarters.

“Oh… oh y-yes of course.” Constance answered shakily “We here at Honorhall make sure the children under our care are healthy and loved. We also-“

“May we see him?!” Luna asked, leaning over the counter into Constance’s face.

“I, uh… I’m sorry. We- uh, we’re not open at the moment.” Constance started to sweat “You’ll just have to come back later! I can make you an appointment in a few months to-“

“NO! Please not the room, anything but the room!” came the boy’s terrified voice from behind a set of locked doors.

Luna quickly stepped over to the doors, but Constance got in her way. “I’m sorry, you can’t go back there.” she said with a pleading expression.

“Fenora, hold her back.” Luna commanded.

Fenora did so readily, and pulled a struggling Constance off the Princess.

With that out of the way, Luna focused her magic on the doors and practically ripped them off their hinges.

The room beyond was dark save for the light of a few sparse candles. In the spaces between the rickety bunkbeds, several children were forced to stand still with their heads against the walls. Only a brave few looking up to see what had caused the commotion, but still they made no attempt to move, and only trembled in fear.

A cry of pain came from behind the door at the far end of the room, making the other children flinch.

Luna marched over to the door with all haste.

“No please, I beg you, don’t make things worse!” Constance called out to her.

The Princess of the night paid no heed, and ripped the door open. What greeted her was a sight that made her blood boil.

Inside the room, among racks of horrendous looking tools, the boy that had ran to them in fear was shackled to wall with his bare back exposed. Grelod was standing over him holding a cat-o-nine-tales made from a series of saw bands, ready to flog him. And as the many scars already present showed, this was hardly a first time punishment.

Something snapped in Luna’s mind and she stared in horror at the scene.

“What are you doing in here? Get out!” Grelod spat at her.

Luna did not reply. “How dare you.” she muttered, and it was not a question.

“Wh-“

“HOW DARE THEE HARM AN INNOCENT CHILD SO!” she blasted Grelod with her royal Canterlot voice before grabbing the old witch and throwing her to the floor in the other room.

Luna quickly blasted off the shackles on the boy’s wrists, and held her close when he fell. “There there child. We shall not let the wicked crone harm you anymore.” she picked him up and brought him into the other room, finding the least filthy bed and gently placing him upon it. “Stross! We have need of your healing skills!”

“Sweet Celestia, Aventus was telling the truth.” Stross said, unsurprised and yet somehow shocked by it all.

Meanwhile Grelod was struggling to get up, reaching out with her claw-like hands for the nearest support, and Constance was fighting against Fenora’s grip to come to her aid.

“Let me go!” Constance shouted “She needs help!”

Fenora grabbed her shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes. “You hold it right there. That old bat tortures these children, terrifies and abuses them, and you’re still defending her?”

“She doesn’t know anything else! It’s always been like this.” Constance told her “I’ve just tried to make it all okay somehow, but there’s nothing I could say to her to make her stop.”

“Your feeble excuse does not justify what this villain has wrought!” Luna joined in now that the boy’s health was in Stross’s hands.

“I know! I know.” Constance started tearing up “But I had to try and help her. I thought I could get her to change if she saw how to be kind to them, and I just… I just… Please do something!” she begged them, seeing Grelod try to stand after nearly the fifth attempt, only to fall again.

“Fine.” Fenora passed Constance over to Luna and went to pick up the old woman.

“You! Finally! Get me up this instant!” Grelod thrust her hand towards Fenora “What do I even keep that good-for-nothing Constance around for? Gently now! I should have each and every one of you thrown in the Jarl’s dungeon for this.”

She then glanced over to notice the children that were once cowering in the corner were now staring out with curious and bemused expressions.

“And what are you looking at you little guttersnipes!?” she shrieked “Don’t you look at me! I’ll have your fingers for this!”

“Why don’t you shut up already.” Fenora told her coldly.

Grelod looked at Fenora like she’d sprouted wings from her head. “Shut up?” she repeated the words before her face morphed into an even deeper frown “Who in Oblivion do you think you are to tell-“

That was all that was said before Fenora grabbed Grelod’s head.

A sickening crack and a stretching squelch filled the air as Fenora snapped Grelod’s neck and proceeded to twist her head off her shoulders.

Gloom on the horizon

There was a great silence in Honorhall that day, as all eyes were on Fenora. The dragonborn made a subtle sneer at the decapitated head of Grelod hanging from her fingers by its dull grey hair.

While the old woman’s body started pooling blood on the floor, she calmly walked over to her speechless friends, and poor Constance, who was staring at her with trembling pinprick eyes.

“There… I did something.” Fenora said as she tossed the head to Constance “Something that was long overdue.”

Constance fumbled to catch the severed head, splattering herself with blood in the process. She drew breath erratically as she looked into the shocked expression, and the glazed over eyes of the mean old woman she’d tried so long to save from herself, even though Grelod deserved no such chance.

There was a long moment of utter stillness, save for the hitching in her throat.

And then all Oblivion broke loose.

Constance shrieked in pure terror, unbridled shock, and she scrambled backwards pointing at the unflinching elf responsible. “MURDER!” she screamed “You’re a murderer! Guards! Guards help!”

“Shit…” Fenora made to stop Constance as she ran for the door with a bloody head under her arm, but Luna and Stross stood in her way.

“Fenora, what the fuck?!” Stross was the first to protest, uncharacteristically swearing outright.

“Indeed!” Luna frowned “What in the name of fornication was that?! We more than many others understand the blasphemy in harming innocent children, but to so callously kill an old woman… right in front of them.” she moved over to the nearest child and hugged his head “What doth their impressionable young minds glean from this? They must be traumatized, horrified, scarred for li-”

“Grelod’s dead!” the boy shouted with glee.

“She’s dead!” he others echoed.

“Ding dong, the witch is dead! Which old witch? The wicked witch! Ding dong, the Wicked Witch is dead!” they began to dance and sing.

“They don’t seem too perturbed.” Fenora watched them. “Come on, let’s just get out of here already. I’ll get the next round of drinks.”

Luna looked to Stross as Fenora left them behind. “Go to her my changeling friend, I must rectify the situation here. And then, the two of us shall stage an intervention.”

“Okay.” Stross nodded slowly, his mind on other things at the moment. He opened the front door and left as the children began a chorus of “Thank you very much.”

Nearly the second he stepped outside though, Stross found an even worse situation to contend with. Fenora was facing down a densely packed phalanx of guards, Falmer in purple cloth with daggers up front, burly nords with axes behind. At their head was Jarl Laila with her housecarl, sheltering a frantic and very shaken Constance.

“That’s her! She’s the one that killed Grelod!” Constance pointed a finger.

“Is this true dragonborn?” Jarl Laila asked Fenora “Did you kill Grelod?”

“With my bare hands.” Fenora responded coolly, causing quite a few uneasy whispers amongst those present.

“Unacceptable.” Laila stated simply “Grelod was a cruel woman, everyone knew this. But I shall not tolerate murder in my city, so you’ll have to pay for your crime like everyone else.”

“You’re an idiot for trying to arrest me; I did you a favor. With the way she treated those kids, Grelod was no better than the bandits I kill on a regular basis, worse even! What’s more, you let her get away with it all this time!” Fenora flipped the blame over to Laila. “And to think you carry the title Law-Giver.”

“How dare you? I have done my best as a Jarl to my people! I have tried to bring proof of her abuse, and her affiliation with the Thieves’ Guild for years, but any documents of her loaning out the children for covert tasks were done away with! And even the confessions of the children meant nothing without solid evidence!” Laila defended.

“I see… so you’re just bad at your job.” Fenora stated.

Laila growled through clenched teeth “Take her to the dungeon immediately!” she ordered her guards.

“Fucking try it!” Fenora drew her newest weapon, Volendrung, with one hand while drawing her sword in her off hand and slowly sweeping its edge across the phalanx’s eye level “I dare you.”

None of the guards moved an inch in her direction.

“Fine! I shall deal with this matter myself!” Laila yelled in frustration, appropriating a sword from her housecarl and charging in.

But while she proved to be a semi-capable Jarl, a fighter she wasn’t. Fenora easily parried the blow, and kicked her to the ground while she prepared a killing blow with Volendrung, even as Galmar the Housecarl rushed to shield her with his own body.

“ENOUGH!” Stross roared, a wall of flames shooting up between the two parties, and they soon found their weapons relieved from their grasp.

“Stross, what-“

*SMACK!*

“Shut up!” he yelled at Fenora as she held her cheek in surprise “Go sit in the corner, and think about what you’ve done.”

The flaming bug then turned his attention to everyone else in turn. “Guardsmen, return to your posts. Former minions, keep being awesome. Jarl Laila, I’m sorry for the disturbance, but I must humbly demand that you back off and let me handle this… for your own safety of course. Go on now.”

They all looked to each other unsurely for a moment before taking Stross’s advise and leaving. With one crisis out of the way, Stross turned back to Fenora, who was still looking at him incredulously.

“Stross… you… I can’t believe- OW! Hey- ow! Stross my hair, that hurts! Quit it!”

Stross gave a sharp tug on the clump of Fenora’s hair he’d grabbed. “No! You don’t get to complain after that! Now keep walking.” He ordered as he led her out the city gates.

For the next several minutes Fenora had kept quiet and simply let Stross lead her along by her hair, keeping close so he would stop tugging. After they’d reached a fair distance away from the city, Stross came to a stop on a hill overlooking a valley below, with the sun hitting it to reveal the natural and peaceful colors. Here he released Fenora and walked over to sit atop a slight peak on the hill, not bothering to look back once.

Fenora massaged her aching scalp and used her fingers to comb her hair back into place. “So are you going to tell me what that was all that about?” she asked “Even without my thu’ums I could have taken them on, no problem.”

Stross was silent as he sat there, staring out into the distance.

Fenora walked over until she was just slightly behind him. “Stross?”

Still no response, so she sat down next to him with a sigh. “Why’d you drag me out here? I assume you have something to say. If it's about getting in a fight with the guards, I'm sorry. But they started it.”

“You’re hurting me Fenora. It hurts to see you like this. What’s happened to you?” Stross asked, his voice cracking “Why are you like this now?”

It was then that he turned to face her, and with the aid of the shimmering sunlight, Fenora could finally see the rivers of tears flowing down the scales on Stross’s face.

“Stross…” she moved a hand to wipe away some of the tears, but he quickly used his own to clamp it to his cheek.

“How could you just kill someone in front of all those kids. I don’t care how mean she was or how much she deserved it, that’s not like you!” Stross sobbed as he rubbed Fenora’s hand on the side of his face. “And then you were going to kill the Jarl and her men. Why? Just… w-why?”

“They… they were going to lock me up. They surrounded me-“

“Because you threatened them!” Stross cried. “Ever since we took down that bastard Mercer, I’ve seen you change. You’re cold now. You’re angry almost all the time, quick to anger, quick to resort to violence, and you treat killing like it’s nothing, on the flimsiest excuses.

“You used to be fun! You used to smile, and laugh, and talk with me. There was a lot of pain and a lot of stupid to go through, but we were going through it together! That used to be all that mattered; us having each other no matter what.”

Stross released her hand to wipe his eyes, but just as quickly cradled Fenora’s chin under his palms. He stared into her amber eyes as more tears replaced the ones wiped away.

“What happened to the elf girl that wanted to save innocent people instead of smack them around? Where’s the heroic, funny, and caring person that I loved to pieces, that I would die for? Please don’t tell me Fenora died in Irkngthand, and that you’re the one that took her place. I don’t want to think that some… changeling led me out of there instead of the girl I loved.”

“Stross…” Fenora felt tears slide down her face this time “I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She whispered and pulled him closer. “I’ve just done what felt right, all this time, ever since we met I’ve just done what felt good. But… now I feel like killing everything in my way is the fastest and easiest thing to do, and the sooner this can all be over, the better.

“I’m so sick of everything right now. Everything except for you.” she pulled back to look at Stross again “Please don’t hate me Stross, you’re the only thing that feels truly good to me anymore, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I’ll always love you.”

Stross leaned in and pecked her on the lips. “I love you too Fen. I just want you back to normal.”

They pulled each other into a tearful embrace, and stayed that way for a good long while, eventually laying back into the long blades of grass as the scattered sunlight washed over them.

…

“Stross?” Fenora asked as the two of them lay there watching the clouds.

“Yeah?”

“Out of all the significant others you’ve had, what was the longest time you kept one?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Just tell me already.”

After a short pause, Stross decided to answer. “Half a year.”

“Okay, now tell me the truth.” Fenora said pointedly. “Because there’s no way I’m going to believe someone as sweet, caring, patient, and cute as you hasn’t been able to hold onto a girl for any longer.”

“I was telling the truth!” Stross said defensively, shifting positions in her arms “Ponies are flipping scared of changelings. We’re like walking factories of hate and deception to them, anything we were to them before we’re revealed instantly washes away along with our disguises. Or so I’ve been told.”

Fenora took a moment to think for a while. “What about guys? I assume you can make yourself a female disguise too.”

“There are problems with that.” Stross put simply.

“Like what?” Fenora inquired further.

Stross sighed. “Well, when I don a glamour to look like a sexy lady, certain things tend to happen. If I act flirty, guys think I’m giving them a green light for sex. If I act cute and modest, they think I’m into their manliness and want them inside me. And when I tell them I just want to be friends or to take things slow, they think I’m playing hard to get.”

“I’m… almost jealous that you can pull that off so well.” Fenora admitted “I’d actually like to see that some time.”

“Ah, there you two are. I do hope things have been resolved.” came Luna’s resonant voice a short ways away “We hath been trying to find thee for nearly an hour. When mine reconnaissance by air yielded nothing, I had to take my search to the ground.”

“And I was along for the ride getting my fur ruffled by the wind.” Barbas complained “What’re you guys doing?”

“I’m being the little spoon. Fenora’s being the big spoon. And we’re watching the clouds go by.” Stross told them, to which Luna smiled.

“Truly? I do enjoy this game. Mind if I join?” she asked, sitting down next to them.

“Sure. But the clouds aren’t like the ones in Equestria, they’re all misshaped and weird.” Stross let her know. “Like that one. I can’t tell if it’s a house or a potato.”

“It looks like a pumpkin to me. The chimney is more curvy like a stem, see?” Fenora pointed out a newly formed detail.

“It doth slightly resemble an overturned book in my eyes.” Luna traced the outline with her finger.

“It looks like a giant magic vortex of death and destruction to me.” Barbas said, looking in a totally different direction.

“Which cloud are you looking at?” Stross asked.

“That glowing one over there.” Barbas pointed with a paw in the direction of Winterhold shortly before the whole horizon was consumed in a flash of pale blue light.

“… Well shit.”

Four mages and Shalador's maze

The city of Winterhold, for those who knew it, was wrought with inhospitable cold and had been ravaged by many disasters over the centuries. Winterhold was not the city it was before The Collapse. Those who lived there usually came to join the famed and infamous College, and then stayed because they had little money and nowhere to go.

Those who chose to join the College were often the victims of their own experiments, rouge elementals and malevolent beings from other worlds, or powers far beyond their control and comprehending; not to mention the overwhelming backlash from the townsfolk, a majority of which detested their daily disasters to the point of hating all magic.

And of those magic-haters who defaulted to the life of a merchant or guard in the ruined town, all had to struggle to get by. Business, resources, and cheerfulness were scarce. And the omnipresent dangers, while easy to become jaded to, were no less potent.

It was debatable which of the two groups were worse off.

A sparking ball of animated ice whizzed around the town between the buildings, emitting an aura of cold wherever it went. It swooped angrily through the air until it was struck with a bolt of lightning. The sphere became unstable, hissing violently before exploding into a shower of dust and bits of smoldering soul gem.

“I think that’s the last of them.” Faralda said to the other College mages as they all stood amid the remains of dozens more of the anomalies.

“Good! Now I can get some answers!” Jarl Korir growled as he sheathed his sword. At the first sign of trouble, he had rushed out into the fray with the mages in order to defend his town while his people hid within their homes. “What have you filthy magic-users done this time?! I swear, Savos is gonna get an earful from me.”

“Archmage Aren is dead!” Mirabelle stated, nearly matching the Jarl in terms of anger “So unless you’d like to complain to him in the afterlife, I suggest you evacuate your people and let us handle this problem.”

“I think not, mage. I’ve outlasted worse than this, I’ll outlast it all. Winterhold will stand against anything the heavens can throw at us!” the Jarl declared, shaking his fist at the sky.

“Screw that! We’re out of here!” one of the villagers shouted as he, and all his neighbors sprinted out of town with their belongings strapped to their backs.

As the stubborn nord Jarl shouted to his traitorous townspeople, Mirabelle searched around for the four apprentices, holding Savos Aren’s amulet in her hand.

When he’d given it to her along with a strange piece of curved metal and a crudely drawn map for safe keeping, she was rather curious as to what he intended to do with them. Shortly after the incident that took his life, and sealed the College inside an ethereal storm, she’d found the latest entry in his journal stating he had to finish what he’d started in Labyrinthian.

After barely a minute of searching, the assistant to the Archmage had found the students, sitting inside the inn around the fire, tending the frostbite they’d received while battling the anomalies.

“You four,” she called out to them “I have need of your assistance.”

“Of course Miss Mirabelle. What is it?” Onmund asked as Brelyna bandaged his arm.

“At the rate it’s spreading, we can safely assume that whatever Ancano released from the Eye will continue to increase in size, and devour all of Skyrim if we don’t do something to stop it. This is why we shall remain here and set up wards, countermeasures, anything to slow it down. Meanwhile, the four of you must travel to a place in the mountains west of here, it is known as Labyrinthian; I’ve reason to believe it is where the Archmage stored a way to control the Eye.” She explained. “For all of Skyrim’s sake I hope I’m right about this assumption.”

“Y-you’re sending just us? Alone?” Brelyna asked nervously.

“Indeed. And I’m sorry it has to be this way.” Mirabelle answered solemnly as she passed them the map, and the objects. “I know how much I am asking of all of you, but there is no other way. We’re counting on you, so do your best… and hopefully we’ll be waiting for you when you return.”

With nothing more she could say, Mirabelle turned and left.

“J’zargo never signed up for this shit.” J’zargo said bitterly.

“You’re telling Trixie. Trixie only wanted to become a great sorcerer, and live a long happy life in a new world.” Trixe lamented “And become ridiculously famous so she could rub it in Twilight Sparkle’s face.” She added.

“Come on you guys, everyone is counting on us!” Onmund tried to rally them “You heard Mirabelle, Skyrim is doomed if we do nothing, and we’re the only ones left who can. We can be just like the Dragonborn, saving the world from certain doom! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

The others looked to each other with shrugs, and nodded meekly.

“So enough whining. Let’s tend to our wounds and set off for… uh…” Onmund looked at the map “Lab-a-rinth...ian? Labyrinthian!”

“Would any of you like me to try out that new healing spell I’ve been working on before we go?” Brelyna offered.

“NO!” everyone immediately backed away.

“Oh come on, please? The test frogs don’t turn into oranges anymore!” Brelyna pouted.

“Stross! Slow down!” Fenora called as she sprinted to keep up with her changeling as he buzzed overhead.

“I can’t, my mage buddies need me!” he yelled back before flying off further.

Fenora wished that she’d asked Luna to teleport them straight to Winterhold. But nooooo, she simply had to tell the all-powerful Princess to get Jurgan’s Horn first and meet up with them when they got there, it was sooooo much more important than saving their aching legs. Still, she soldiered on in hot pursuit of her intrepid changeling hero.

They had nearly reached the outskirts of Windhelm, and the area around them was still quite easy to make out despite the sun having nearly set. The swirling tower of magical energy just over the mountains that reached up to the skies bathed the entire area for miles around in its pale blue light, adding ever more urgency to our heroes.

Fenora lost sight of Stross as he flew over a patch of trees, and she had to go through in order to keep pace. Slashing her way out of the foliage, she looked all around the sky to spot him again.

When she did, he was no longer racing through the air, but diving to the ground near the city gates in the distance.

On closer inspection, he landed just in time to defend a group of four cloaked travelers from the paranoid city guards. Of the four, there was a nord man, a dunmer girl, a kahjiit, and a horned woman wearing with a ludicrously large hat.

It didn’t take too long to recognize them.

…

“We don’t like you filthy mages sneaking around in the city, especially not you furries and grey-skins!” the foremost guard sneered as he shoved Onmund to the ground next to his already battered friends. “And if you even think about coming back we’ll have worse for you.”

“Hey! No one treats my friends that way!” Stross yelled as he landed “They’ve got as much reason to be in the city as anyone else.” He jabbed a finger into the guard’s muscular chest.

“Oh? And what are you gonna do about it, bug?” the guard faced him down with five of his buddies backing him up.

“Uhh…” Stross deflated with the odds suddenly against him. If only they had been bandits, he would have roasted their butts until they were charred and crispy.

“Hah, that’s what I thought. Don’t think about showing your face around here again.” The guard laughed as he and the others went back to their posts.

Fenora arrived a few moments later after finally catching up to Stross, panting and out of breath. “Hey, are you guys alright?”

“Dragonborn? Uh, not really, but we’ll live.” Onmund told her, holding his bruised face as she and Stross helped him and the others off the ground.

“What the heck did they do to you guys?” Stross asked as he looked over the rest.

“We were hoping to gain an audience with Jarl Ulfric. We were going to ask for help containing the situation in Winterhold, but we couldn’t even get inside.” Onmund explained “The second we got within a stone’s throw of the palace, the guards surrounded us and… well, you caught the tail end of it all.”

“That’s actually the reason we came running all the way out here.” Fenora told them “We saw that beam all the way from Riften, and were on our way to help you out. What’s going on up in Winterhold?”

“That’s a long story.” Onmund told her before starting the tale from the beginning.

“…And that’s basically it.” Onmund finished retelling all that had happened “Long and short of it, with the Archmage dead and all the teachers trying to contain this surge of power, we’re all that’s left to find this… whatever we’re looking for. Gods I’m glad you two showed up when you did.”

Our heroes and the apprentices now sat around the house used once before when helping Karliah and the Thieves’ Guild, this time recovering from the earlier tussle with the guards.

“This is quite the predicament indeed.” Luna said via the violet gem laying on the table between them all “Our tasks are becoming ever more dire, my friends; your Eye of Magnus threatens to consume this world, and Alduin wishes to rule over it.”

“We’ll just have to stop them both.” Fenora told them “But I think it’s unanimous that we need to take care of the Eye first. Unlike Alduin, it doesn’t seem to be taking it’s time.”

The group nodded in agreement.

“Then why pray tell am I still doing these tedious side-quests for these villagers of whose feet art glued to the ground?” Luna questioned. “Would I not be more useful at your side?”

“No Luna, we need to have that horn. Alduin hasn’t done anything yet, and that’s what’s worrying me. That’s what’s been worrying me this whole time, ever since Helgen.” Fenora explained.

“What does the elf lady mean?” J’zargo asked.

“Yeah, isn’t it a good thing the dragon god of time hasn’t started killing everyone?” Onmund added.

“There’s a dragon trying to take over the world?!” Trixie screamed.

Fenora was about to snap at each of them, but Stross quickly went into a rambling explanation before she could.

“Yet. He hasn’t started killing everyone yet.” Stross put simply “The first time I ever saw him, Alduin was able to raze an entire town on his own. And he’s got an entire army of dragons at his disposal, yet we’ve only seen two. But each time we fought those flying death machines, we were barely able to win against them, even with help. In all seriousness, Alduin could swoop down with his army and wipe out everyone; we’d be powerless against that many dragons at once. So why doesn’t he? More to the point, why would he not unless he’s working some angle we can’t see?” Stross finished once he was sure he’d made his point.

“Thank you Stross.” Fenora breathed a sigh of relief “See? This guy gets it! I just have to wonder what’s holding that damned dragon back, and it’s driving me mad.”

“Hmph, perhaps it’s because he knows that the Great and Powerful Trixie would defeat him easily.” Trixie said smugly.

“More like J’zargo, the Arcane Scourge would smite him down and mount his head on J’zargo’s wall.” The boastful kah’jiit challenged.

“Well I can set my mind at ease now that I know the solution,” Fenora said sarcastically as the two began to argue “When Alduin does come crashing down on our heads, we can just put you two on the front lines. With both of you fighting, they’ll probably surrender on the spot.”

“What?!” Trixie’s eyes went wide “Uh, no that’s alright. Trixie is sure J’zargo would be more than enough. He is the most skilled at destruction magic after all.”

“No. J’zargo would not say that.” the khajiit quickly backed down as well “J’zargo’s spells are no match for the Trixie-woman’s dazzling illusions and ability to draw a crowd.”

As Trixie and J’zargo’s desperately tried to deflate their own egos in a stroke of irony, even going so far as to hand the other compliments to their skill and give reasons as to why they should go instead, Stross finished tending to Brelyna’s wounds.

The damage the guards did to J’zargo was far more severe, and required immediate attention, whereas Onmund escaped with only a few bruises and a cracked rib. Trixie wasn’t even hurt past a couple scrapes on her elbows and knees, likely from kiting the guards until they were thrown from the city steps.

“There. All better.” Stross said as the healing waves faded along with the last few scratches on Brelyna’s face.

“Thank you Stross, I’m glad to know there are people like you in the world.” Brelyna sighed “I still cannot believe how they treated us in the city.”

“Did they refuse to talk to any of you?” Stross asked.

“I wish they had.” She said, that one sentence telling him all he needed to know, and yet she kept going. “One man tried to defend us, he looked like an old soldier, and they ridiculed him for it!”

“Good ol’ Brunwulf.” Stross remembered.

“They even have a whole section of the city sectioned off so the dunmer and argonians are kept away from everyone else; it felt so depressing just looking at it.” Breylyna told him of the Grey Quarter “How is anyone supposed to learn to coexist in a city so divided like that?”

An answer was already loaded on Stross’s tongue, ready to go. But then he thought on it for a second, and realized it was just a gentle assurance with no substance.

The more he thought about it, Stross realized the same thing would happen to his own kind back in Equestira if they ever tried coexistence that wasn’t hidden behind a disguise. Griffons and zebras were already considered strange by ponies, diamond-dogs even more so. And it only applied to changelings more; they were practically the stuff of nightmares by comparison.

“I wonder if they would accept us… or if we would make them.”

“Stross?” Brelyna asked after a while.

“I don’t know.” Stross answered and gave Brelyna a sideways hug “I don’t know how anything could work, if nopony wants it to. You just… you can’t force anyone to like anyone else, it’s not right.”

Brelyna sniffed a bit and pulled away from him. “Yeah. I can’t.” she whispered.

“Brey, what-“

As he was about to reach out and stop her, Fenora cut him off. “Stross! Are you two ready to go? We’re heading for Labyrinthian, no time to waste.”

It was a long and arduous trek through the mountains to the ancient and crumbling city of Bromjunaar, more commonly known as Labyrinthian. Nightfall was well upon them once they had even begun to near their destination, along with all the cold that came with it. With none of them having the forethought to bring warm cloaks, Stross found himself very popular with his ability to radiate a dome of heat; so popular that he accidentally tripped over someone else’s feet more than a few times.

However, Brelyna always held back a number of paces, noticeably enough to be out of the sphere’s influence. Stross slowed down a bit for her to catch up, but she still maintained her distance.

With a questioning look, Stross grabbed her in his magic field. “Come on Brelyna, there’s plenty of room next to me.” he told the shivering dunmer as he pulled her in and placed a hand around her waist as they walked side by side.

She looked startled, almost frightened even. But before she could protest, Fenora came up on her opposite side, and placed a hand on her shoulder “Come on, we can’t have any of you freezing to death.” She told her with a reassuring smile.

It was almost enough to keep her calm for the rest of the trip.

…

Upon arriving at the ancient city, the party had found a nest of frost trolls infesting the area leading up to the city square. With the scent of tasty, pre-warmed meat waiting for them, the trolls attacked without hesitation. But after a bit of cleverness involving a steep drop off a cliff, followed by some burny-hacky-slashy, they had all survived and reached the gates that led deeper inside the temple.

Fenora had some difficulty attaching the torc to the main door, to which Stross, Onmund and J’zargo each made a simultaneous joke about her fiddling around with knockers. They were each slapped for it.

The doors opened with an earsplitting grind, and just inside the massive archway they found a large foreboding hall that split off in four different directions. Each of the apprentice’s immediately chose a path and would have started down it, but Fenora quickly called them back, figuring that this place (like most things in Skyrim) was likely a deathtrap full of monsters and spikes.

Having exhausted most of their energy on the trek anyway, everyone decided it best to set up a camp and rest for a bit.

And that was where they found themselves now, sitting in one of the more sheltered areas of the courtyard near the Labyrinth, around a fire, trying to keep warm and regain their strength.

“What do the rest of you believe we’ll find in there?” J’zargo started up some idle conversation.

“I don’t know.” Onmund answered as he poked the fire with the end of a broken sword he’d found discarded amid the ruins “This is where Shalador locked himself away, right? To study magic.”

“Obsessively.” Brelyna chimed in “There were numerous writings and legends based around his work. Urag Gro-shub told me he spent most of his life researching magic, as well as trying to keep it out of the hands of the common folk; if you wanted to learn magic, Shalador believed you needed to know how to use it wisely. The massive maze here was actually built by him to test the skill of new mages, to determine whether they were fit to even practice magic in the first place.”

“Wow, that’s really strict compared to Equestria standards.” Stross commented “They use magic for everything there! Controlling the weather, growing their crops, washing their windows; even non-unicorns have a different kind of magic, primal or something. I wonder what Equestria would be like if they followed Shalador’s way of thinking, only letting a few powerful ponies use magic.”

“It would probably be very miserable if that were the case.” Brelyna told him “Shalador was so obsessed with his studies that his own wife left him, after many years of neglect where she hardly even saw him.”

Stross looked a bit taken aback by this, but it was not impossible to believe. It was easy to get so caught up in your own thing that you lose sight of all else. He sighed to himself and stared into the crackling flames, thinking of some ponies in Celestia’s school he’d known who were just like that.

“I’m back!” Fenora called as she approached and dumped an armful of firewood on the slowly burning pile. It was mostly broken up barrels scavenged from the nearby ruins. “How’s everyone holding up?”

“Could be better, could be worse.” Onmund reported “We’re facing down the unknown after all.”

“Trixie is hungry.” Trixie replied “These trolls are bland and inedible. Will somepony tell Trixie why we did not pack any food or water.”

“J’zargo read a survivalist book stating that one could survive any situation by consuming their own urine.” J’zargo told them.

Fenora groaned and turned to the one person that could give her any good news. “Stross, how’s Luna doing? Is she almost done?”

“Lemme check.” He pulled out the violet gem and activated it “Hey Luna, it’s Stross. How’re ya doin’?”

“Ah, it is good to hear your voice again. The canine, Barbas, with his knowledge of fallen champions of old, has been most helpful in retrieving lost treasures for the pirates of the Morrowind coast. They have agreed to aid us in turn in our search for the orc rabble that stole the Horn from the Merchant King two days prior.” Luna told them “And how doth thou fare? Hath thou reached Labyrinthian yet?”

“Yeah, we’re here, but there’s some kind of maze blocking our way.” Stross told her.

“Do as thou see-ist fit. I shall finish my business and be with you again soon. In the meantime…” there was a shuffling of cloth on the other side of the gem. “Onward ye sea-dogs! Raise the main sail and turn ‘er four degrees starboard! Arrg!”

“You know we don’t actually talk like that, right?”

“ARRG!”

"Hah! This crazy bird is havin' fun with us, I'll tell ya what!" Barbas's muffled voice yelled through the gem.

The conversation ended shortly after, with the light from the gem fading out. “Well, I guess we just wait a little longer for her, right?” Stross said as he repocketed it

“Sure, and for every second we waste, another inch of Skyrim gets swallowed by the Eye.” Fenora reminded them, her truthful yet pessimistic tone not helping their morale. “Who says we just go in now? Make some progress on that maze so we’re not wasting time with it when Princess Luna gets back.”

“I’m in.” Onmund raised his hand “I’m not about to sit around while Skyrim gets destroyed.”

“J’zargo wishes to go as well. Who knows what treasures lie in wait within these walls?”

“Or what dangers.” Stross reminded them “If we go in, which I don’t think is a good idea, we need to be careful.”

“Trixie wishes to get this over with so she can go home to her nice, comfy bed.”

“That’s four votes to go in and one to go in cautiously.” Fenora tallied them up “Brelyna, what about you?”

Brelyna looked timidly between her companions and the giant maze. “I…” she began “I don’t know. This seems really dangerous.”

“Hah, don’t fear. The Great and Powerful Trixie can handle any danger thrown at her.” Trixie said confidently.

“We can’t do this without you Brey, are you with us?” Onmund encouraged her.

The dunmer took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay. I’m in.” she said reluctantly.

With varying degrees of conviction in their hearts, our heroes and the mages marched through the giant archway, and into the great stone halls that were Shalador’s labyrinth. Looking to each other, they took the first steps forward.

“Okay everyone, let’s choose a path forward, and stick togeth-“

And then the floor shot up to the ceiling, creating great solid barriers of metal and stone between each of them. A loud sound of grinding stone echoed out as the magically reinforced walls of the maze locked in place, keeping each of them separate from the others and locking them inside the maze as well.

“Oh come on!” Fenora screamed in frustration.

“This place is… a-maze-ing me already.” Stross joked, and everyone groaned.

Shalidor's maze part 3: that grumpy old ghost

A wall of vines covered the solitary exit on the far end of the maze. They were thick, nay impenetrable, enchanted with oakflesh and a greater magic ward, as well as a magic water supply that made them grow back at an astonishing rate should they be damaged.

Truly it would take a mage of considerable intelligence to identify it as Devil’s Snare, and know it’s vulnerable to sunlight. Then figure out you must first freeze the water to cut off its healing property, dispel each of the ward enchantments one by one by destroying the soul gems linked to the plant in the correct order, before being able to use a sunlight beam to make the Devil’s Snare retract it’s-

“GYAAAH! DIE! DIE! DIE!”

Or just… you know. Keep hacking away at the things until you get through.

*Sigh* Adventurers these days! No respect for the cleverness and insanity required for dungeon-building!

“Get! Off me! You stupid! Plants!” Fenora yelled as she fought her way through the creeping vines that ensnared her and Trixie, slicing through the rapidly regrowing mass of tendrils with every word.

“Feed me!” one of the plant’s many talking heads yelled.

“NO!” Fenora swiftly cut it from its stalk when it neared her “I’m not your fertilizer! I’m not soylent green! Go photosynthesize or something! Trixie I could use your help any day here!”

But the unicorn mage was unresponsive, trapped in some kind of magical sleep that Fenora could not wake her from. It was annoying having to carry her through the maze on her back, but as the cursed wall of plants refuse to release Trixie’s hat and cape, she was quickly becoming a liability.

Gritting her teeth in anticipation of pain, Fenora sucked in a deep breath of air. “FUS RO DAH!”

The vines entangling the pair were easily knocked away by the shockwave, and Fenora quickly snatched Trixie by her cape and scrambled for the exit before the relentless things could get ahold of them again. With no small amount of effort and a liberal use of thu’ums, the elf finally managed to slice through the last remaining curtain of leaves and break through the exit to the other side.

“We made it!” She yelled triumphantly as a trickle of blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. “You okay there, Miss Great and Powerful?” she asked Trixie, who was still out cold.

Fenora sheathed her blade and pulled Trixie over to a nearby stone bench and laid her down on it before taking a moment to look back at the great stone walls of Shalidor’s legendary maze. “It doesn’t look like the other made it out yet. I hope they find their way alright.”

Her worry was interrupted by a trio of popping sounds behind her. Spinning around and drawing her sword again, she found the apprentice mages standing there. Well… more like hovering mid-air before falling on the floor like ragdolls.

Fenora cautiously walked over, intending to see if they were okay, but before she could, a loud grinding sound shook the floor. She dove off the smooth slab of rock beneath her feet as it slowly rose from the ground and turned to face this new potential threat. To their relief though, it seemed it was simply convenience striking again.

“Fen!” Stross said with a smile as he stepped out of the elevator “You’re alive!”

“Stross you’re… covered in rotting skin? Do I want to ask?” Fenora noticed as she sheathed her sword and walked over.

“We had to use dead bodies to get past an obstacle course. Brelyna’s a necromancer, and that’s flipping sweet!” Stross told her “But now she’s gone, just like Onmund and J’zargo! I found them and helped them and then they just vanished!” he wailed.

“Oh, that’s okay though-“

“Okay?! How’s that okay?!” Stross gawked at her “They could be anywhere now! They might be freezing on top of a mountain, or trapped on an island, burning down in the planes of oblivion, or worst of all… teleported to Equestria while wearing some silly costume that becomes real and gives them superpowers!”

“Stross, they’re over there.” Fenora stepped out of the way to show the apprentice pile.

“Oh…" Stross looked over at the pile of tangled limbs and torsos that were his friends. "YAY!”

Fenora smiled and shook her head. “Well, the gang’s all here. Now we just need to wait for Luna to-“

And at that very moment, Luna decided to keep with the trend and appear right in their midst with a triumphant cheer. “I’ve returned! And I hath brought the Horn of Jurgan Windcaller! Tis strange, we had assumed it to be larger…”

“That’s what she said!” Stross threw in.

Fenora went ahead and took the horn from Luna. It was indeed small, simply made from some kind of animal bone and even a bit rough around the edge where it was cut. But Fenora could feel that it was the real thing the second she held it; it seemed to resonate in her hands in a way she couldn’t explain.

“This is fantastic, Luna, one less thing to worry about. Thank you for your help Princess.” Fenora said as she gave Luna a quick hug.

“Think nothing of it friend.” Luna said, barely hiding a blush.

“Hey, where’s Barbas?” Stross asked “Wasn’t he with you?”

Luna chuckled. “Oh, he said he had some business to take care of…”

*Meanwhile with Barbas*

Barbas dug feverishly into the soft soil, the mud clinging to his already filthy coat and it was only getting more caked on with each passing second, but he wasn’t about to slow down. He had to make sure no one would get their hands on his stash after all.

“I’ll never understand you dogs.” Sercie said as she watched him dig, the hole was nearly three feet deep and twice as wide around. A pile of the skeletal monsters they’d fought before lay on the edge, waiting to be hidden away. “Why bother burying your bones for later. You might not be able to even find them ya silly mutt.”

“Hey, calling the kettle black aren’t ya?” Barbas snarked as he kept digging.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sercie asked with a frown.

“Ey new Captain! Where d’ya want us to bury all this extra gold!?” one of her surviving crewmates called.

"Over near that tree! Draw an 'X' in the sand on top when yer done, that'll make it easy to find in ten to a hundred years or so." Sercie  yelled back "Like I said, I'll never understand you dogs."

*Back with our heroes*

“He said to come pick him up later. What has happened whilst we were away? Each of you look positively exhausted.” Luna said as she noticed the apprentices sleeping on the floor in a pile.

“While we were in Shalidor’s maze, they had some kind of spell on them. I was able to break it once while we were in the maze, but afterwards they vanished. I guess the maze sucked them back in and spit them out here.” Stross guessed.

“You went into the maze without me?” Luna asked “While I might scold thee for your recklessness, I’m pleased that none of you were harmed. Allow me to reawaken them before we continue.”

With that said, Luna wrapped the apprentices in her magic glow and settled their bodies around her as she began to meditate. A few calm seconds passed as the Princess gently probed each of their minds in turn, but then the aura surrounding her became distorted. It pulsed once, and all concentration was lost. Luna fell to the floor with a cry of distress, yet the apprentices remained floating in the air.

“What happened?! Are you okay Luna?” Stross asked as he and Fenora ran over to help her to her feet.

“I am fine. But I could not break through their dreams. It’s as though something is stopping me… or someone.” Luna explained, trying to make sense of it and recover from the shock of being thrown from her own domain.

“Magic is as magic does…” came a ghostly voice that echoed around them, and the ghost of an old man in a tattered cloak materialized before them. “Or at least that is what the ignorant say to explain concepts unknown to them. I am Shalidor’s spirit familiar. All that remains of his mind is in me, bound here by a duplicate soul gem-“

“EEEEEEEAAAAHHHH!” Stross shrieked and blew a gout of flame at the scary ghost.

The ghost of Shalidor paused for a moment before continuing. “I am the custodian of this maze. I ensure that all who would practice magic, do so with purpose.” He pointed a hand to the apprentices, still comatose in his magic field “These four are the same in that regard; they each study magic because they feel alone, the possibilities of magic bring them comfort where none else exists. But this is not purpose, it is pleasure and fantasy, and for this they are weak. They do not deserve to search for what they seek, and so they shall remain here... forever.”

“Enough!” Luna interrupted “As Princess of the night I demand thee release these young mages immediately! Their mere fascination is no excuse to be detained by you.”

Shalidor scowled “Fool! Magic is an art! It is not some children’s toy to be used on one’s whim, it must be mastered before it is allowed to master you, something so very few understand. Do not act as though you are any different, wielding raw power with such abandon, with no thought to your spells.”

Luna tried to bark something back, only to find that the phantom had cast a silence spell on her.

“And so I turn to you…” Shalidor’s ghost said to Stross while Luna tried to counter the hex on her mouth “I turn to the last of the mages to make it through the maze, the one who danced about the enchantments to free the others. If you can satisfy my query, then the others shall be free." it spoke slowly and deliberately "Why do you seek to master magic?”

“I…" Stross looked to the others, detained and helpless, relying on him. "I... I don’t know.” he said finally, his mind drawing a complete blank “I’ve always had to use magic, to hide, to survive, just like every other changeling in Equestria. I just use magic because I need to.”

Shalidor's ghost pondered this. “So your gift is inherent, crucial even, and yet you do not seek to perfect it. Is this what you say? How can you call yourself a mage?”

“Wha- well I… I never needed to. What I had worked just fine for me. Sure it could have been better, but I...” Stross stammered. "Don't hurt them!"

“Mages these days... how truly pathetic they've have become.” Shalidor sighed “This is why I wished to restrict the use of magic to those who would unlock its full potential. When everyone can use the arcane arts, even the smallest triumphs are seen as glorious, and mediocrity runs rampant. Your kind are the epitome of failure.”

“Oi! What do you know about magic anyway?!” Fenora snapped. Shalidor looked almost taken aback, yet she continued. “Who the ‘Blivion do you think you are to dictate who can and can’t use magic? You eggheaded bully!”

"I am the master of the arcane, you dim-witted fool!" Shalidor roared "I am the mage of Nirn. Who else has dedicated their entire life to magic?!"

"There’s more to magic than perfection!" Stross shouted, memories of Equestria and its solar Princess coming back to him. "There’s friendship and wonder and compassion… living in Equestria has taught me that this magic can’t just be learned, that it has to be felt!” He looked to the apprentices and to Fenora “Books can only do so much, we need each other to know all that we can be. Holding everyone down so that only a few rise to the top is cruel and unfair, no matter how well it works. So let them go. Please.”

Shalidor floated there in silence for a long moment.

"No." he stated firmly.

"No? What do you mean 'no'!?" Stross whined "I just gave you a big heroic speech about friendship and caring about others to find the magic within yourself! And you're just like 'no'. What is this 'no' you speak of?"

“Do not misunderstand, your efforts are commendable, but foolish. Many who entered the maze before you left with their lives, but few have ever tried to save another within those stone walls.” Shalidor said as a smile graced his ghostly features before a solemn grimace washed it away. "It is wasted on them."

"How would you know?! Have you seen them in action? Have you given them a chance, a real chance to prove themselves?" Stross said and stamped his foot to end each sentence "Give them back. If magic is all that's important to you then fine! I'll make sure they become the best darn mages Skyrim's ever seen! Just give them back... because I care about more than how well they can cast a spell, darnit!"

Shalidor frowned, but waved his spectral hand, and the field holding the apprentices aloft gradually fell. “You reason that unity can enhance one's individual potential... I hope for the sake of all worlds that what you say holds true.”  The ghost of Shalidor then turned and walked away, gradually fading into nothing.

“Well that was long, preachy and distracting as fuck.” Fenora deadpanned.

“Are my mage buddies okay!?” Stross yelled and ran to check on the two nearest him, Onmund and Brelyna.

“They seem to be alright.” Luna assured him as she checked over Trixe and J'zargo “Their minds are calm now, but their bodies are quite exhausted. Perhaps we should find a safe place to rest a bit before we continue.”

"Did you really mean what you said about making sure they become great mages?" Fenora asked.

Stross could feel Shalidor watching him through the walls at that moment. "Uh... yeah. Sure... I'll do my best. He-heh... oh boy."

Luna and the apprentices sat around a small fire Stross had lit for them. Each had awoken from their slumber, but still had pounding headaches, and were too dizzy to stand. While they took the time to recover, Fenora had decided to scout ahead towards the innards of the temple.

Stross left the main group a few minutes ago to find her, silently blaming himself for stupidly letting her go alone in the first place. Though it wasn’t long before he found her kicking her feet up on an overturned bookshelf.

Man, that’s some good scouting ahead she’s doing right there.

“Hi Fenora, how’s it going?” he greeted her and jumped up onto the bookshelf as well, noticing Fenora twiddle with Jurgan’s horn, turning it over in her hands to inspect it closer.

“It’s actually good, Stross. With this horn in my hands now, I feel like everything’s going to be alright again. And at the same time I can’t help like feel the world is gonna punch me in the gut any second now. But maybe that’s just my pessimism kicking in again.” She said and shoved the horn into a cushioned area of her pack. “So how are you doing, my little changeling?”

“I’ve certainly been better.” Stross told her while he pulled his rot-covered Nightingale outfit off and set it aside “They say they’re fine; Onmund, J’zargo, Brelyna. Trixie still won’t talk to me, but I could see them Fen. I went into their minds and I could see each of them in the moments they truly chose to become mages. There was so much… pain. I don’t know how they got over it.”

“We’re not soft you know.” Fenora told him “Maybe you ponies are squishy babies, but here on Nirn, we just deal with stuff… or go insane. But we mostly deal.”

Stross nodded. “What did you have to face anyway?”

“What?”

“I mean each of the others had to face a sad or painful memory that linked back to why they practiced magic. So what did you have to relive?”

Fenora frowned. “I wish that was what I had to face. I had to fight a minotaur, Stross. A freaking minotaur! But not just any minotaur either; it was a mini minotaur!”

“Not a mini minotaur!” Stross gasped “I saw one once and thought maybe it was a baby, only I found out that it nay-be! How did you beat it?”

“When it swallowed me I found an unopened bottle of tar-tar sauce in its stomach.”

“That would do it alright.” Stross nodded “I worked as a fish-n’-chips vendor a few times, and they always told us in training that mini minotaurs are deathly allergic to tar-tar sauce. It's especially bad in Sparta. Minotaurs in parts of Sparta don't like tar-tar on their carp, it causes sharp pains in their hearts, which leads to explosive bowel movements complete with smelly farts.”

Fenora tried to hold back a snicker and finally burst out laughing.

Stross couldn’t help but join her, and the two just laughed for a while.

“This is why I love you so much, you know.” Fenora said when her lungs stopped burning “Even when the world is ending, you can still find ways to make me laugh.”

“{…ash nazg…}”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything yet.” Stross told her “I was going to say how much I admire your-“

“Shh!”

“{...ash nazg…}”

“There it is again. Don’t tell me I’m not the only one hearing that.” Fenora hopped off her seat and looked around for the source of strange noise.

“{…ash nazg, durbatuluk…}”

“It’s coming from over there.” Fenora said as she followed the whispers. Their chanting became louder and louder. They led her to a wall with an engraving across the arch at the top; in Dovahzul it read [Speak in the tongue of our lords, and you are welcome].

“Bex.” Fenora spoke without a second thought.

The wall of solid stone seemed to dissolve in front of her, and a staircase leading down was before them. Fenora went down them, curiosity getting the better of her and Stross’s constant urging that it was a bad idea.

They came to a wide space filled with rows of stone seats leading up to nine pedestals, suggesting that must have been a grand ceremonial hall at one point, but had since been reduced to ruin by time and fire.

“What is this place?” Stross mumbled as he looked around at the hall once ornate.

Fenora however was distracted by the chanting in her mind that drowned out any other sound. She walked up to the pedestals, where, lying at the feet of the stairs leading to them, was the dead body of some intrepid treasure hunter. An orcish dagger was lodged firmly in his ribcage, but in his clutches was a cleanly carved wooden mask that dispelled all the voices once Fenora picked it up.

Also on his body was a bit of crumpled paper pulled from a book.

“It seemed like an easy enough job.” Fenora read aloud “Groz and me done plenty like it before. Some chinless Breton wants bodyguards for blah blah blah… Easy clink for us.

…goes on about this twice-forsaken mask of his the whole way… when Groz snatched it and put it on her face as a joke he threatened to fire us both for it …

…So we get here… me and Groz had to cut through ten stinking trolls… yadda yadda… and without so much as a warning, poof; he's put on that mask and vanished. Could have put my hands on his throat one moment, the next he's not so much as thin air!”

Fenora paused in her reading to look over the mask in her hand. She looked to Stross only for him to shrug, so she kept reading the note.

“After a while we didn't know what to do. Groz picks her gear up to head home, when he poofs back, that mask in his hand. He begs us not to leave, says he needs us to wait, this is what he's paying us for… and so on and so forth… puts the mask back on his sorry face and he's gone again. I'd seen wizard boys with cloaks do invisibility before, but a few swings of my fist proved he wasn't pulling that trick. Nothing there to hit.

Last night he shows up again, tells us he needs more time to figure out something about other masks, and vanishes again. I'm done with twiddling my thumbs and writing letters to myself. We're leaving come sunrise, and if he shows up again I promise Azura I'm putting this dagger through his chest to keep him in one place. We'll pull more loot off him dead than he could have paid alive. But that mask stays here. That cursed thing can stay and rot with him and the trolls for all I care.”

Fenora put down the note and looked at the mask again. There didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about it; it was just a spooky wooden burial mask. But if the ramblings in the mercenary’s notes were true…

Fenora went to put it on when Stross quickly grabbed her arm and wrestled it away from her.

“Are you completely insane?!” he panted. “Do you even know what this thing does? It’ll probably turn you into whatever creature died to make this! Just like in Mask of Neighjora!”

“Okay how about this… if you were right and this turns out bad, I’ll do anything you want me to. Within reason. But if I’m right and this is something awesome, you have to do anything that I want you too. And I promise it won’t be anything mean.” Fenora set the terms of the wager. “What’d you say? You up for it?”

Stross hummed in thought for a moment. “If this ended up going badly, I’d never forgive myself for going along with it. But on the other hoof… anything I want… even tummy rubs…”

Stross grabbed Fenora’s other hand in both his and his magic. “Let’s do this!”

Fenora slapped the mask on and the world around them was seemingly transformed. The ceremony hall was restored to all its splendor, with the stone pews and columns in their freshly-chiseled glory under ornate tapestries depicting great dragons soaring through the sky over the menfolk as they prayed to them.

“Stross… are you seeing this?” Fenora asked.

Stross gestured to the room around them “The buck is this?” he pointed to the outer limits of the halls that seemed to fade away to into the ether “The buck is that?” he turned to the once ruined pedestals that now looked to be made to bear masks “The buck are those?! AM I HIGH RIGHT NOW!?”

“Is this some kind of word wall?” Fenora asked as she walked over to the mask holders and tried to touch one.

Suddenly a blast of words came from each of the maskless stone faces.

“One mask to rule them all, eight masks to find it. Nine priests to bring them all, and in our glory combine it!”

The force of the voices caused Fenora and Stross to stumble backwards and trip down the stairs, the mask falling from Fenora’s face in the process. When they recovered from the fall, the world had returned to its normal ruined state.

“That was scary.” Stross breathed “What do you think it meant?”

“I don’t know…” Fenora spoke slowly before practically leaping on Stross “But what I do know… is that I can make you do anything I want! Oh I need to think long and hard on this, but trust me my little changeling… I’m going to enjoy it.” Fenora said with an almost sinister smile.

Stross trembled as he felt the soft breath of her laughter on his face. “Um- I… okay. Just remember, I can turn into anyone you want.”

“Oh Stross. You’re the only one I want.” Fenora told him as she stroked his cheek before pulling him in for a quick snog.

“Elf and Changeling! We are ready to continue questing when thou art!” Luna’s voice called to them from the top of the stairs.

Fenora turned to Stross with a confident smirk. “You ready.”

“I’m ready if you are.”

…

The two of them met with the rest at the entrance to the temple proper as they were doing one final check over their supplies.

“Ah, there you two are, we were beginning to worry.” Luna greeted them as they approached. “Do either of you have any idea what we might face in there?”

Fenora sighed. “Not a clue I’m afraid. But Skyrim is getting slowly eaten by the Eye. So let’s not waste any more time.” She said as she leaned against the giant doors.

Stross, Luna and the apprentices each nodded their heads in agreement, and the seven of them prepared themselves to enter the depths of Labyrinthian.

*Many years ago*

“Come on, we're finally here! Let's not waste any more time!” Savos Aren said to his five friends as he leaned against the giant doors.

Each of them nodded as they prepared to face the horrors that lurked within Labyrinthian.

Same folly, different day Part 1: Girduin

Fenora took point as they walked through the doors, with Luna following on her left and Stross on her right. The first thing each of them noticed upon entering Labyrinthian proper was the number of skeletons littering the floors, gathering dust and cobwebs. The entire first room was practically covered in bones.

“Everyone keep your guard up in here, and take this slow and careful.” Fenora told them “This place apparently has a lot of magic in it, so there’s no knowing what we might come across. Stross, see if you can sense any life coming from th-“

“J’zargo has found fifty-two septims!” the Kha’jiit said as he ransacked the piles of bones.

“Trixie found a spell tome!” Trixie said from the other side of the room.

“You guys, come on! Forget the small loot, we have to get the staff!” Onmund called to them as he ran further ahead without them.

“Gods dammit,” Fenora growled “Fine! Let’s just dungeon rush this thing!”

“Fen, wait up! Don’t leave me here!” Stross yelled as he chased after her.

“Stross no! Don’t leave me!” Brelyna screamed and chased after him in turn, leaving Luna standing alone, dumbstruck.

The lunar Princess just stood there in the entrance for a few moments as the shouts from her companions grew quieter and quieter. “So… have we decided to not be careful?”

After rushing down a long dark hallway, their charge came to a halt at an old iron gate. It was impossible to see anything in the darkness that covered the area beyond, and attempts to cast spells through it ended with very lackluster results.

Onmund found a lever nearby and tried to use it, but it was stuck in the shut position, and he had to push and shove with all his might to get it up. When he did, a loud snap echoed out, as though part of the mechanism broke when he forced it.

“I’ll hold it up, go!” he shouted to them.

The others nodded, and once they had made it through the door, Onmund dropped the switch and dashed through before the gate collapsed shut behind him.

“Well we’re not getting back that way.” He stated by the obvious fact that there were no other levers around, and the door was likely too broken anyway.

“That’s alright. These tombs in Skyrim always have a shortcut back, only you can’t get to them until you make it through all the stupidness.” Fenora told him and drew her sword “So what did we just walk in to?”

It appeared to be some kind of large, cavernous area. But it was hard to tell with the nearly pitch black darkness covering it.

Stross decided to shed some light on the situation and shot some fire towards the ceiling, hoping that maybe there’d be a chandelier or something to catch it. Brelyna did one better by casting several balls of magelight into the distance, while Luna decided to best them both, conjuring a giant orb of light that suspended itself near the ceiling like a disco ball.

Each of them wished they hadn’t when they saw what they awoke in the darkness.

Dozens of skeletons, archers and spell-blades cloaked in tattered ancient robes began advancing towards them and nocking their arrows.

In response, each of our heroes took up defensive positions, readying their combat spells of choice. But before they could start whittling away at the bone soldiers, they found the worst had yet to come.

A great rumbling shook the ground, at the far end of the room, before the exit, a giant skeletal arm erupted from a burial mound, followed quickly by its twin. After a second for dramatic anticipation, the whole beast emerged; a giant dragon skeleton, likely one of the first to fall in the great dragon war and enshrined here by the cultists.

Despite its lack of eyes it spotted the ones intruding into its lair. Despite its lack of lungs it let out a terrifying roar. And despite its lack of a stomach or even a tongue, it decided to get itself some lunch.

“Luna! You’re with me, let’s take that monster down!” Fenora commanded just as an arrow flew by her head “Yikes. Stross and newbies, keep the rest of these things off us!”

With that they charged, rushing past the infantry to face the giant dragon.

“Who are you calling a newbie?!” Trixie yelled in offence before throwing a blast of magic into the nearest skeleton archer.

The archer was knocked back, but not impressed, and quickly recovered to fire its shot. Trixie ducked under it with a yelp as it punched a hole through her great and powerful hat.

Onmund covered for her with an ice spike that crushed its way through the skeleton’s torso, making the rust crumble in its absence. “She was probably talking about you… newbie.” He said with a smirk as he moved on to the next.

…

At the start of the fight, Luna had taken to the air to distract the beast by raining spell beams on it while Fenora took out its legs. After a particularly devastating attack from the Princess, it was left vulnerable for a split second. Fenora took advantage of this and leapt for a downward slash across the skele-dragon’s face, landing and rolling away from its frost breath when it recovered immediately after her strike.

It still baffled her as to how it was able to use its shouts. Perhaps the magic of the sanctuary allowed it to retain the use of its voice during the afterlife, or maybe dragon’s voices weren’t linked to their physical bodies. Either way, she didn’t really care. All Fenora knew is that it was annoying as balls having to constantly dodge the torrents of frost.

Luckily Luna was there to hit it while it wasn’t focused on her, and the Princess’s magic blasts were much more effective than her sword.

Unfortunately the skele-dragon seemed to notice this and began attacking its airborne opponent instead. After the first few swipes with its talons were ineffective, it reared back its head as the Princess charged up her attack. It then lunged forward even as its face was bombarded with the Princess’s beam.

Luna gasped as the dragon pushed through her beam and tried to snap her in two with its jaws. There was no time to swerve away, so a barrier was her only option.

The skele-dragon didn’t care however, merely getting angrier and smashing her through the nearest pillar and into the wall behind it, her shield barely withstanding the force of the blows.

“Dragonborn, we require your aid!” she yelled as she tried to maintain the protective bubble around her as the beast gnawed on it.

“On it!” Fenora said as she lunged forward and smacked at one of the dragon’s back legs with Volendrung. Though it had just lost a tibia to the daedric sledgehammer, the dragon didn’t seem to particularly care and kept chomping down on the Princess, causing cracks to form in her midnight-colored shield.

“Fuckin’ stubborn, ain'tcha?" Fenora cursed as she sucked in a breath of air “Fus Kren-Kroz Fusriin! (Force shatter-rend shockwave)”

As the elf collapsed in pain, a rippling wave was sent through the air that tore apart anything in its path, including the skele-dragon’s left arm and most of its ribcage. Bones rained down on the floor and the dragon fell on its side.

Luna, now free from its jaws, flew up over it and conjured a giant orb of raw magic energy and threw it down on the weakened beast.

The resulting explosion sent even more bones flying this way and that. But when the dust cleared, there was only a pile of dismembered dragon bits where the monstrosity once stood.

“It is over. That was quite exhilarating.” She said with a smile as she landed next to Fenora, who was spitting up blood.

The elf simply gave her a thumbs-up as she pulled out a small health potion, taking a sip before replacing it alongside the other three she had with her.

Before they could get too caught up in their victory however, they noticed a rattling amongst the scattered bones. They began rolling, even flying to reunite with each other, more and more of the pieces piled onto the growing mass as the Fenora and Luna watched in horror. Finally the skull and jawbone found their place atop the now twisted and gnarled gathering.

The skele-dragons had mended and reformed into a much rougher and jagged shape, broken bones forming deadly spikes along its arms, back, and tail. It turned to face them once more, and roared.

Fenora gripped Volendrung and the hilt of her sword tighter. “Oh motherfu-“

…

J’zargo forced more magika into his cone of flames as the skeleton bared down on him with an axe. Finally as it was about to swing he cancelled the spell and opted to simply punch the flaming warrior’s head off.

“Our foes refuse to stay down!” he cried as he kicked at the bones already reforming at his feet.

“Trixie can’t keep this up much more.” The unicorn wizard panted as she blasted another archer apart with a brilliant display of light and sound.

“What do we do!?” Onmund yelled as he parried a blow with his conjured sword. “Stross!”

“I… I don’t know!” Stross yelled as he blew apart a pair of skeleton spell-blades for the fourth time, without flesh to cut, his anti-healing dagger did nothing to them. “I don’t know how to kill these things for good. Should we run for the exit?”

Just then the skele-dragon let out a thunderous roar that swept dust up even near the entrance where they stood.

“I like our chances of that even less!” Onmund told him as he cleaved the skeleton in front of him in two, only for it to start repairing itself yet again.

“Then what are we supposed to do?!” Trixie screamed as she kicked a skeleton’s head away. “This is a nightmare!”

“Hang on a second, what happened to Brelyna?” Stross looked around and spotted her cornered by two of the spell-blades “Brey!”

Stross was about to rush over and save her, but it seemed she didn’t need the help. Her eyes opened, glowing bright blue, and the light spread over her whole body before erupting into a pulse of blue flame that engulfed the skeletons right as they were about to hack her to pieces.

The skeletons went limp and burned for a few seconds before their bones simply turned to ashes. Meanwhile, the dunmer’s friends just stared in astonishment.

“It’s called Bane of Undead.” Brelyna told them when she noticed them staring “Colette taught it to me; she seemed more than happy to teach me about the uses of restoration beyond simple healing sp- Stross watch out!”

Before Stross could turn around he found his head being repurposed as a snow-globe while another wave of skeletons assaulted his friends. “Ge-e-e-t…. i-i-i-t… o-o-o-f-f-f-f-f… me-e-e-e-e!” he pleaded as the skeleton continued throttling him and shoving its bony fingers up his nose-holes.

Brelyna was quick to oblige, and the second she touched him with her glowing hands the fire spread through him and onto the skeleton.

“Thanks…” Stross mumbled while he got his eyes to stop spinning. It was then that he noticed the glowing flames covering him when Brelyna held his hand. “Huh…”

He let go, and the flames dispersed.

He poked her with a finger and the flames spread to him once more.

After poking her a few more times to mess with the fire the changeling smiled at her. “Brelyna I’ve got a crazy slash awesome idea!”

…

Fenora struggled to remain on her feet as she was shoved across the floor, barely holding her ground against the savagely spiky tail of the skele-dragon. After her sword was lost beyond a safe retrieval in the monster’s jagged maw, she had switched to two-handing Volendrung, and was currently using its shaft to keep the knife-like spines from impaling her. It was amazing how much force was put into the swing considering the beast was merely turning around to get a better angle on Luna.

Luna wasn’t faring much better all things considered. Her flight and teleportation allowed her to avoid the majority of the dragon’s arsenal, but it simply came up with a new method; using the shout of Unrelenting Force to launch arrowtip shards of bone at her in massive quantities. She had already failed to block one of the rending hails when it was first used, and was covered in multiple gashes and cuts because of it.

From then on she hadn’t been able to even risk an attack, and was currently pinned under the dragon’s infinite bone machinegun.

That had to change.

“Ag. Straag Wah Viiz! (Burn. Turn to dust!)” Fenora shouted and the dragon burst into flames.

Its assault on the Princess completely ceased as it writhed, and Luna took this opportunity to ensure that Fenora’s thu’um did its job, conjuring a whirlwind to contain and fan the flames as the dragon trashed.

Soon the movement died out, and Luna let the wind stop, revealing only a pile of sand.

“Is it finally dead?” Fenora huffed.

She really should have learned not to tempt fate, as not more than a second after she said that, the dust began to swirl.

“Oh thou have got to be kidding us.” Luna said in protest and disbelief.

The bone dust collated in a shifting, dragon-shaped sculpture held together by no more than the dragon’s dead soul, Fenora’s sword sticking out of its face like a long slender fang.

The two looked up in frustration and dread, wracking their brains for a way to kill it for good when a blast of red and blue flame impacted the dragon’s face.

Luna and Fenora turned around to see Stross, Onmund, J’zargo, Brelyna and Trixie all wearing blue flames like a cloak. Each had one hand on the shoulder of the next, and the other arm outstretched wielding the combat spell of their choice.

They fired off a barrage of spells, one after another, each one carrying an infusion of Bane Undead.

Lightning, fireballs, exploding magelight and searing spears smashed into the dust dragon, burning it away at each place it tried to reform itself. After quite a few more hits the dragon finally was unable to keep itself together, and as it let out its death roar, the whole mountain of bone dust collapsed.

Stross and the mages strutted over victoriously as the fire around them slowly vanished.

“What in the name of my sister was that?” Luna gasped.

“Oh, you know. Just smiting evil with the power of friendship, the usual.” Stross shrugged “It’s like you haven’t heard of Twilight Sporks and the other Elements of Harmony before.”

“Do not dare speak that name around me, changeling.” Trixie pointed a threatening finger at him “Even if you don’t pronounce it right.”

“I’m sorry; who are we talking about again?” Onmund cut in.

“Twilight Rooster, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Rarity; they’re the Elements of Harmony in Equestria, and they’re totally famous! They saved Equestria like…” Stross paused his fan-girling to count on his nifty new fingers “Like FIVE TIMES! And that was just since I left a couple weeks ago. They’ve probably saved it like at least two more time since then. They’re pretty cool.”

“You guys are pretty cool!” Fenora called over while she dug her sword out from under all the powderized bones. “Seriously, when this is all over, I’m treating each of you to dinner.”

“That sounds great; I know a place in Dawnstar we can go. Their mudcrab cakes are amazing.” Onmund told them, nearly drooling as he thought about it.

“Well, we can’t go back this way…” Stross remembered the broken gate “Might as well go forward. But no more rushing forward from now on.”

*Many years in the past*

Savos panted for breath, out of all his classmates, he was the only one to escape the dragon uninjured. But he’d seen poor Girduin die right in front of him. It happened so fast, none of them even had a chance to react. One moment they joked together about what kind of treasures they would find, and the next the bosmer boy had been ripped in half by that… thing.

"We... we have to go back. We can't leave Girduin back there!" Elvali shouted and was about to go back.

Hafnar grabbed her before she could however, looking at her like she was insane. "We barely made it out alive, and you want to go back in?"

"It's too late anyway.” Atmah said sadly as she healed the bleeding gashes across her chest from where the dragon had come inches away from cutting her to shreds “There isn't enough of him left to go back in after. We’d be killed for nothing."

"Gods, what have we done?" Takes-In-Light shook her head, wiping the tears out of her eyes while she slowly bandaged her left arm.

At that moment, it had fully sunk in for Savos how unprepared they were. It was amazing the rest of them survived, even if it was to grieve. But they had already come to this place, they’d already lost one of their friends…

"We can't go back. Might as well go forward.” He said, emotion barely evident in his voice. “We can still do this."

He looked to Atmah and Hafnar as they stared at one another, pale-faced, none of them willing to admit they'd made a terrible mistake coming there.

After nearly a full minute, Atmah was the first and last to speak "Savos is right. We can make it if we just stay alert."

Same folly, different day Part 2: Elvali

Stross and the mages strode onward down the hallways of Labyrinthian, more confident than ever after their victory over the dragon. But as they worked their way into the next room, they noticed it getting steadily colder, until it was almost freezing.

“Burr-r-r. What’s with the temperature this place?” Brelyna asked. At that point the group had to watch their footing on the icy floor.

“I sense a fell magic at work here, be on your guard.” Luna warned them.

“Hey, maybe we can ask those guys over there!” Stross pointed at a group of frost wraiths leaning against a nearby wall like they didn’t care about nothin’. In addition, each were wearing leather jackets and sunglasses, even though they were indoors.

“H-hey fellas. Can you do something about the cold in here, maybe turn down the AC a notch?” Stross asked them politely as Fenora face-palmed.

The wraiths each raised an eyebrow at the changeling before going back to loitering.

“No? Oh… okay then. Well can you at least let us past that door over there?” Stross motioned to the frost gate blocking their path.

One of the wraiths turned to him while the others scoffed. “Sorry bruh, no can do. You’re just… not cool enough.” And with that, the wraith turned his nose up and went back to ignoring him.

“D-did you just… give me the cold shoulder?!” Stross asked, stunned.

“Tis to be expected from frost spirits.” Luna commented “Such beings are said to have ice-water in their veins. Any suggestions on how to proceed?”

“I got this.” Fenora said and quickly plucked out one of Luna’s feathers, causing no short amount of complaints from the Princess. She then walked over to Stross, and tickled his nose with the tip of it.

“Fen no wait, I’m gonna… hhhe, gonna... Ah-CHOO!”

When Stross sneezed, a blast of fire came with it, melting the ice wraiths into puddles.

“Nnnnnooooo!” one of the wraiths wailed as he spilled down through the frozen grate in the floor “Mah coolness was so cool… it came full circle and made me uuuuuuunnn-coooooool! …Bruh.”

Stross stared at the disappearing elementals in silence for a few seconds and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Uh… ‘scuse me.”

“The way is open! Let’s go!” Onmund called and beckoned them to the melting door.

On the other side of the frost door was a huge dripping cavern, with stone walkways all the way down. It was likely frozen over, but without the frost wraiths, it had already begun to thaw, and rushing water could be heard far below.

About half way through, they heard it.

“Wo meyz wah dii vul junaar?”

The voice was rough and cracked, ominous and evil sounding. But it was what it carried with it that devastated the group the most. A magic wind washed over them as the words came to their ears, and each could feel the magika being stripped away from them by it. For Luna and Stross, the effect was much harsher.

Luna’s hair stopped flowing in its magical breeze and instead whipped around her in the voice’s gale as she collapsed to her knees. For Stross, he felt like his stomach was being set on fire and ripped out. Fenora and Brelyna rushed to him as he fell on the ground, hacking and gagging.

“Hi lost daal, Aren? Dii wuth fahdon? Nivahriin muz fent siiv nid aaz het.” The voice continued to whisper as the wind ravaged them. “Dreh hi yah wah geblaan tol fos hi vust ni. Nunon funtaas sarran.”

“By the Gods, what is this?” J’zargo said as he tried to shield himself.

“What is it saying?!” Trixie yelled while trying to do the same.

“It’s asking about Aren… the Archmage from the college.” Fenora tried to translate “Something about returning to finish something he started, and cowards finding no mercy.”

The wind continued to sweep over them, but for a moment the voice paused.

“You do not answer.” It stated “Must I use this guttural language of yours?”

“Zu'u egnah hi kos nahlon, dur nau dii honiir! (I prefer you be silent, curse on my ears!)” Fenora shouted back, seeing that Stross was about to pass out.

The draining wind came to a sudden stop.

“You… you are not Aren.” The voice echoed throughout the cavern without its magic wind to carry it. “Has he sent you in his place perhaps, to finish what he could not so many years ago? Tell me, did he warn you of how your own power would only serve to strengthen me?”

“I don’t know who you are or what, but I don’t care. We’re still going to destroy you!” Fenora shouted back back, and the other voice was silent for a moment.

“You are not alone. There are others with you.” it said in an eerily calm tone. “Then come, face your ends. Let the echoes of history ring again in my halls!”

Fenora could almost feel the overconfident smirk in the monster’s voice as it spoke. She couldn’t wait to wipe it off its face with the business end of her sword. But first… something much more important.

“Stross, Luna. Are you two alright?” She turned to her friends.

“I’ve certainly been better.” Luna said and rose to her feet with the help of Trixie “It was like arriving here from Equestria for the first time. I feel so weak right now…” she breathed heavily and wiped the sweat off her forehead.

“Stross? …How about you?” she placed a hand on him, feeling his jumpy and pained breathing.

“I could really use a sandwich.” He replied weakly with a smile.

Fenora would have laughed, but she knew Stross was in bad shape, trying to lighten the mood with humor so they wouldn’t worry. “We need to keep moving in case chatter-box decides to hit us again. Stross, I’m going to carry you but I need you at your best when we face this thing. So feel free to feed on me while we walk.”

“Nn… no. You’re drained too… It’ll… hurt you if I…” Stross tried to warn her.

Fenora sighed as she picked him up and put him on her back. “Okay, I’ll figure something out. Luna, can you stand?”

“I’ve got her!” Onmund called and rushed to help Luna up, slinging one of her arms over his shoulder and bringing his other hand around her side... a bit too high, to be honest. *Squeeze*

“J’zargo does as well.” J’zargo said and taking the other side and doing the same. *Squeeze*

Luna’s eye twitched as she stood between the two college boys. She opened her mouth, and without looking at either one, spoke slowly and clearly.

“Good sirs, release thine fingers from mine royal funbags immediately or have them broken off.”

The only way forward was a climb down the slippery stone walkways and into a collapsing aqueduct. Thankfully the voice hadn’t returned, as the freezing water seeping into their boots made life miserable enough for them. There were small bits of loot to be found, hidden in nooks and in chests half buried, which the mages decided to root through for anything useful. Sadly they only found small amounts of septims and inedible jewelry.

Once they made it out and onto dry floor, they found themselves in what at first appeared to be a dungeon, but they soon realized it was some kind of ritual chamber. The walls were lined with disintegrating tapestries, and strange stone spikes no bigger than most stalactites formed a circle in the center of the room.

A desiccated corpse in mage robes lay in the center of the circle, impaled though the chest on the central spike.

“Everyone, I really don’t like the looks of this place. Move through it slowly, and don’t. Touch. Anything.” Fenora instructed through gritted teeth. “I mean it.”

Everyone nodded and they began to make their way through the circle, being cautious not to touch the pillars, or even step on the lines carved between them. The air was tense, static even, and the silence didn’t help to ease anyone’s nerves. It was especially bad having to walk past the dead body of the mage, her empty sockets seemed to follow them when they made their way around.

Just as they were about to pass the last set of pillars, a light appeared, followed by its source. Each of them stopped in their tracks as the little green orb of spectral light floated between the spikes and blocked their path.

“Is that what I think it is?” Fenora asked in a whisper, having heard the legends before.

“It is. It’s a wisp.” Brelyna answered. “I’ve read about them; spirits of those who were lured to their deaths in the wild. Whatever happens, don’t follow it or you’ll be led to the same fate.”

“Ooh, pretty.” Stross said as he walked slowly towards the shiny blue light.

Fenora’s eyes popped open and she quickly checked her back.  “What? How did- When- Stross get back here!” she ordered as loudly as she could without actually raising her voice.

“Can’t. Must… touch… shiny…” Stross said while more of the orbs gathered around him and his friends began biting their nails.

“Nom.”

“Om, nom. Nom.”

“Mmm, donuts.”

Fenora and company just stood in shock.

“Did… he just?” Trixie began with her jaw hanging open.

“Yeah. I think he did.” Fenora slumped “Stross… you starving IDIOT!”

A chill filled the air, and a ghostly wind seemed to replace all the air in the room. Then from the ever darkening shadows came a voice.

“You… ate MY BABIES!”

Suddenly the room was flooded in a ghostly light, and the Wispmother appeared along with at least two dozen more of the ghostly orbs. The tattered ghostly cloth covering her was whipping around furiously as she grabbed Stross up by his throat and bared her rows of jagged teeth in his face.

“YouAteMyBabies!” she spat.

“I’m sorry!” Stross cried “They were delicious!”

The Wispmother shrieked like a banshee, causing Stross to scheme right back in terror. The wind picked up and the ground started to shake as this impromptu screaming contest went on for another full minute without either of them taking a breath.

“…RO DAH!” Fenora interrupted them, sending the Wispmother flying into a wall and proving once and for all that no one out shouts a dragonborn, even when said dragonborn was not supposed to be competing.

“Stross, are you alright?” Fenora rushed to him as the others took defensive positions.

The changeling grabbed onto her tightly and refused to let go. “I’ve seen the face of death, and it told me to go on a diet!” he screamed.

The wispmother had recovered, and immediately started throwing her precious babies at them like bombs, screaming at our heroes as they scattered and took cover behind the ritual pillars to get away from the explosions of frost spikes. “You… ate… my… babies!” She repeated like a broken minstrel with each throw “Do you know… how many unfortunate travelers… I had to lead to their deaths… to make those?! They’re mine! Only I get to eat them!”

“This bitch is crazy!” Onmund shouted as he took cover. “Princess Funbags, can you do something?!”

On that que, Luna got hit in the head by a thrown wisp and was comically encased in a block of ice.

“Fear not fellow sorcerers!” Trixie stood up and posed heroically “For the Great and Powerful Trix- Gah! The Great and Powerf- Ah! TheGreatAndPowerfulTrixieShal- Ehah! Stop interrupting the Great and Powerful Trixie’s great and powerful speech!”

“STOP SHOWING OFF AND BLAST IT!” everyone else pleaded before they got another dusting of frost.

“Guh, alright fine. Taste the power of the Great and Powerful Trixie!” And after finally getting off a lengthy one-liner, Trixie summoned up a barrage of multicolored fireworks that smashed into the Wispmother.

Disoriented and slightly weakened, the Wisp had to cease throwing her suicide bomber children. She instead began focusing her energy, and called out in a haunting echo, “Cool-guy wraiths, to me!”

And then nothing happened.

Everyone waited for a while, and then a puddle with sunglasses sloshed up beside the Wisp. “Sorry boss, but we’re just not cool anymore. The competition was just too hot to handle, and now I guess we’re just… washed up.”

The Wispmother hissed. “Those fools. Time for plan B.” she brought her hands together and crossed her fingers, gathering a huge amount of power until the air reverberated around her. “Kage bunshin no jutsu!” She screamed, and five shades identical to their master appeared in battle position, and each summoned twelve little wisps of their own to use.

And so the fight was on! The shades and Wispmother let out piercing shrieks, pointing at our heroes and ordering their minions to attack.

The mages began frantically blasting at the glowing orbs of oncoming death flying straight at them. Fenora tried knocking them out of the air with her sword, but the little things were quick and agile, able to dodge almost all of her swings only to swerve hit her in the back. Out of ten swings the elf took, maybe one or two actually connected.

One finally collided and smacked the wisp orb away, where Stross caught and quickly shoved it in his gaping mouth.

“Stross! Ignore the snacks and get Luna unfrozen! We need her in this fight.” Fenora instructed before she began hacking a path through the oncoming wisps and to the Wispmother and her clones.

“Roger dodger!” Stross saluted and sprinted over to Luna, but not before slurping down a couple more of the wisps. He could feel his energy stores filling up every time he ate one. Plus they tasted like mint!

“Luna Luna Luna! I feel it’s time to really break the ice with you.” Stross said as he melted Luna out. And then his wings sprang out of his shell. “…You’re all wet.”

“Paint thineself a portrait changeling, it will last longer.” Luna said and got into the fight, blasting the orbs left and right as she rushed to aid Fenora in taking down the Wispmothers.

…

The mages were doing pretty well all things considered, their magika hadn’t fully recovered from the draining wind, but together they were able to hold the wisps at bay. Brelyna had taken it upon herself to sustain wards around them all while Trixie and J’zargo blasted away at the orbs when they drew near. The wisps had an apparent weakness to fire, and so a simple Flames spell was all they needed to drive them back.

Onmund had unfortunately taken a pretty bad hit when the fighting started due to a wisp hitting the ground and becoming a frost rune trap, and was in the process of treating a rather severe frostbite on his feet.

“Hey, you guys are doin’ great!” Stross said as he joined them, taking a second to snatch one of the wisps out of the air as it dived towards them. He began sucking on it until it shuddered and faded out.

“Yes, we’re fine without you!” Trixie shouted at him in a singular moment when the wisps relented “Go and bother somepony else!”

Just then a horrifying screech rang out, and a group of at least eight of the wisp gathered together and swarmed through the already crowded chamber. They flew spastically towards the ceiling before diving towards the mages like a group of rabid hornets, pulsating in a bright red light.

“Look out!” Stross yelled and grabbed hold of Brelyna, channeling his magic through hers and infusing the shields with his fire.

The several smaller wards melded together in a giant protective bubble of fire, which lit the berserk wisps ablaze as they bounced off in a failed divebombing. They landed on the ground and violently exploded in a huge blast of ice shards and steam.

…

Fenora breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Stross save the mages from her recklessness. When she cleaved through one of the shades, she had no idea that killing it would cause its minions to suicide. But it was also the quickest way end the fight if they could avoid the resulting explosion.

“Luna! Can you try and contain these things when they do that?!” Fenora asked and began fighting her way to the next shade, taking no small amount of hits along the way.

“Easier said than done, but I shall try.” Luna told her as she continued dodging and blasting away at the swarm of dozens pursuing her in the air.

“That’s all I need.” Fenora assured her and smacked away another wisp, giving her a clean shot at not one, but two of the shades. “Toor volusvaan yol-riin! (Inferno dissolving fire-wave)”

Flame erupted from Fenora’s mouth and engulfed the shades, as well as anything between them and where she stood. In a few seconds the flames evaporated, leaving nothing but a scorchmark on the ground and walls, and a silhouette of where the shades once floated.

Upon the deaths of their masters, nearly half the remaining wisps started glowing red and flying erratically. Luna immediately scooped up as many as she could in her magic and forced them all together before wrapping a barrier around them to contain the explosion.

The few that slipped out of her grasp detonated on the ground and walls, causing great spikes of ice to form. But it was nothing compared to what happened inside Luna’s sphere.

Trying to contain twenty of the wisps all at once proved to have been impossible, with disastrous consequences. The wisps were condensed like a pressure bomb, and the explosion was amplified nearly tenfold. Luna herself was thrown back, knocked out from the sheer magical backlash of her spell being blown apart.

Huge chunks of ice rained down like spear blades, and chunks of ice the size of fists were shot at bullet velocity in every direction.

One such ball of ice smashed through another shade, killing it instantly, and thus stating a chain reaction that sent the remaining wisps suicide bombing everything in a frenzy and killing the other shades, including the original Wispmother. For the next seven and a half minutes, explosion after icy glass-shattering explosion sounded out, until finally, everything was quiet.

Same folly, different day Part 3: Takes-In-Light (sort of)

Stross slowly regained consciousness as the silence and dark surrounded him. He felt sick and gross, like there was something sloshing around under his shell. Why he had been out or for how long escaped him, but the first thing he registered was the cold, wet sticky substance he was laying in. Groggily he opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, feeling the sticky stuff drip from him as he tried to sit up.

“What is this stuff…Blood? Did I get hurt?” he thought as his mind rewired itself “No… can’t be. I don’t even hurt.”

Then his mind jumped to a worse conclusion. “But wait, if it doesn’t hurt that means it’s really bad! I could be dying from blood loss! But wait… how could I be figuring that out then? No blood means no smarty-brain.”

Then out of his hazy vision he saw a pair of limbs laying on the other side of the room. “Whose are those?” they looked surprisingly similar after all.

Then he realized it, they were his arms! They were over there, which meant they weren’t attached to him!

He rolled over and pushed himself up with his… arms?

“How do I still have these?” he asked himself in mild shock.

It was then that Stross noticed the fine difference in the scales on his arms, near the wrist on his left, and closer to the shoulder on his right. “I… I regrew my arms.” He muttered. “How-?“

He ran his hand through the sticky stuff and brought it to his face. To his relief, it was only the remains of a melted wisp. That was likely what gave him the strength to regenerate.

“That’s right. The fight with the Wispmother and her clones. Did we win?” The changeling blinked a few times and began looking around the room. Then his eyes locked on something that made him snap to his senses.

“Oh no.” He whispered when he saw Brelyna lying flat on her back in a pool of her own blood.

Stross scrambled over to her. “Brelyna, you’re-“ he let out a gasp when he got a better look at her. From the ground she looked fine, but standing over her, he saw her entire left arm had been torn off, severed by blade of ice that was slowly melting into the pool of blood around her.

“No… No no no no no!” He put his hands onto where her missing arm was supposed to be and began trying to close it off, his magic slowly cauterizing the open wound. But all too soon he started feeling drained. “No, not now! Come on, stay with me.” Stross began to panic as his healing flames flickered out in his hands.

“Hey! Somepony hel- Nn…no.”  Stross’s call for help got caught in his mouth when turned his attention around the room, and then he could only look in horror at what was waiting for him.

Princess Luna, the mages; his friends… all of them lay motionless around him, each of them surely dying. Onmund was propped against a wall with several shards of red-stained ice sticking out of his belly, J’zargo sat in a similar manner against one of the spikes, many little bleeding holes drilled through his torso and neck. Trixie lay face down, covered in gashes across her arms and legs, likely more covering the rest of her. Luna was in some manner of shock, unable to do anything but stare outward into space with her unblinking, dilated eyes. His changeling eyes could see their life forces, barely there… nearly slipping away.

But worst of all was Fenora, and Stross felt sick when he saw her at the far end of the room.

“Fenora!” Stross called as he rushed over to her, unsure what to do.

Stross felt his breath hitch several times as he looked over her. The entire front half of her body was completely torn apart; an explosion had torn right through her armor and into her chest, leaving her bare ribcage exposed and her guts hanging out.

“F-Fen… no, oh no. Look at you… Fenora.” Stross slowly lifted her head up, and felt tears running down his face when he saw the state of hers. With a trembling hand he limply touched her broken jaw and traced where her left cheek had been ripped away.

He clenched his fists and trying to conjure up his healing again. But try as he might, the light on his fingertips simply faded away each time after making a pitiful amount of progress; a few muscles healed, or a bone fragment put back in place. He just didn’t have enough left in him to fix her all the way.

“Come on bug, think! Do something!” he yelled at himself.

Then Stross remembered something, the goo on the ground, the same stuff that let him regenerate with his kind’s healing factor. It was the essence of the Wispmother, the creature that harvested souls, and souls had energy he could use. He immediately looked around and found the puddle again.

Unlike the essence of the lesser wisps he ate before, it felt sickly and tainted when he touched it, but he started absorbing it anyway. As he drew the energy out of the slush and the puddle slowly began depleting, something felt right. Somehow it was far more than he could remember having in his entire life, even after his bandit massacre at Bleak Falls. Just how much power had the Wispmother harvested in this place?

Stross wasn’t in the mood to question it. The second he was done, he rushed back and grabbed hold of Fenora, and began working with all his might to restore her. It was easier than he could have imagined, and in seconds, shattered bones mended and became whole. Flesh regrew, eventually covering over in skin again.

Fenora sharply sucked in a breath of air, and her eyes shot open, darting around until they landed on Stross. “Where. What… how did-?” she breathed.

“Shh… it’s okay Fen. I’ve got you. Just rest, okay? Just rest.” Stross told her as he blinked tears out of his eyes.

Fenora’s breathing calmed when she heard his voice, and she gave him a nod before falling into sleep.

Fenora was alive, and Stross felt incredibly relieved. But he knew there was more work to be done, and very little time to do it.

Hurrying back to the mages, he started with Brelyna. There were numerous little cuts all over her, and frostbite covered her body, but stopping the bleeding and sealing off the empty socket where her arm used to be was top priority. Stross focused his healing there. Slowly but surely the wound closed itself, and the bleeding came to a stop.

Stross felt a sudden spike of pain in his chest, but shrugged it off. He considered trying to give Brelyna a new arm, but considering how long it took just to seal the wound, Stross knew he’d have to do it later, and she’d live for now.

Moving quickly, he made his way to J’zargo, and by channeling the magic coursing through his veins from the Wispmother goo, the holes punched through the kah’jiit’s body filled in with new flesh. There might have been broken bones, or something else Stross didn’t know, but at least J’zargo had lungs that weren’t full of holes now.

Then another wave of pain hit him. This time it was harder and lasted a bit longer than before.

“Grr- whatever’s doing that needs to stop. I do NOT have time for it!” Stross thought angrily as he shook off the pain and moved to the next patient.

Onmund was next, and the nord had to be pulled from his sitting position and laid on his back in order to pull the ice out. Easily the worst part was trying to get his intestines back in. It was like trying to figure out how to store a rope in a tiny box; a long, bloody, disgusting rope in a bloody, rank-smelling box. But once that was done, it was relatively easy to seal him back up.

Trixie had taken a bad hit to the head, and the ice had filled her mouth and nose, preventing her from breathing. Worse was her right eye, which was splattered down her face. Stross could deal with the eye later, and focused on melting the ice to clear the passageways for air, albeit filling her mouth and nose with water. But she could still breathe right? Right?

Why wasn’t she breathing?!

Stross looked back over the others, and saw that despite his treatment, none of them were awake yet either. But he healed them!

He rushed to Luna, who out of all of them had sustained the least injuries. Besides a few scrapes that were already almost healed over on their own, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her.

“Luna, you okay? I need your help.” Stross lightly shook her. When she didn’t respond, Stross held her head between his hands and channeled some of his healing magic through it, thinking she was suffering a concussion or something. This also yielded no results.

“Darn it, why isn’t this working?” Stross thought to himself and looked over Luna for anything else that might be wrong. “What happened to you? Your eyes are all wide and derpy, like…”

Then the changeling got an idea.

His horn started bubbling a sickly green glow and spread his influence into Luna’s mind, completely unchallenged in her state. As soon as his changeling influence was in place, he whispered for her to wake up. And when Luna began to stir due to his command, he quickly purged it from her.

“Uhh, what happened?” Luna mumbled through clenched teeth as she brought a hand to her head.

“You gotta help! I can’t wake them up!” Stross yelled, and Luna grimaced in pain once more before trying to ask what he was talking about.

After slapping him a few times to snap the changeling out of his panic, Luna got Stross to quickly explain what had happened.

“We must act quickly then.” Luna said with a determined frown, and shakily got to her feet.

After a quick inspection on the mages, Luna was disturbed to see how ghastly their injuries were despite the fact that Stross had healed them already. She was about to question him on it, but thought better of it knowing how distressed and emotionally fragile Stross was.

She instead checked them again, and set his mind at ease, telling him that the injuries that remained were superficial. She said that they were all still very much alive, but very weak, and in need of help if they were to recover.

Surprisingly, all it took was some basic CPR and a magical surge to jump-start their hearts, and each of the mages were back to life. Or as back to life as one could be, considering they should have each been in the hospital for no less than a year. They regained consciousness for maybe about a second before passing out again, leaving Luna and Stross to carry them someplace better.

The next room they entered was one of Skyrims many dead body preparation stations, complete with rusty embalming tools and hundred-something-year-old linen wraps. Perfect for helping repair bodies that were still very much alive!

Brelyna was the first one to wake up, just shortly after they’d finished moving into the new room. The first thing she noticed was her missing arm, and quickly began hyperventilating over it.

After no small amount of hugging and gentle reassurance from Stross, she finally calmed down, and was even able to rationalize that she could possibly make a new one with Stross’s help.

That was what they were currently up to. Beside them were a couple of healing potions that had been thickened to a paste with Brelyna’s instructions, a clove of garlic and imp stool mushrooms from Onmund’s bag would allow them a bit more potent. Her old arm was also nearby, and they made sure to thank Luna for finding it. All they had to do was reattach it.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Brelyna asked nervously as Stross held a recently cleaned knife thingy to her shoulder.

“Uuuuuuuuhhhhh… can you run it by me one more time?” Stross asked sheepishly.

Brelyna took a deep breath and pulled her mage robe down a bit more. “Okay, what you want to do is begin to make a cut just outside the rotator cuff- AAAAHHH!”

“Sorry! I started too soon!” Stross apologized.

“It’s okay just keep going!” Brelyna screamed “You want to get the shoulder socket open again so we can put the replacement- AAH- bone into the correct place before we- EEEE- ‘re able to reattach the arm into its- GAH-HAH… proper place. Did you get it?”

“I think, hold still a sec.”

Stross took the replacement humerus bone he’d made from fusing together pots of bone meal, and dipped the end in a healing potion paste. Then he carefully inserted it into the socket, and used his healing spell in tandem with the restoring effects of the potion to fuse the newly grown muscles to the foreign bone.

“Okay… good. Good.” Brelyna said, trying to keep her breathing under control. “Now for the arm. Take the rest of that paste and slather it on one of those ‘bandages’. We’ll need it to keep the arm in place.”

“You sure know a lot about this stuff.” Stross complimented as he did as she instructed.

“I had to. Physiology of mer and men was a large part of my studies back when I turned thirteen. Who would have thought it would actually be useful?” Brelyna chuckled.

“Alright, just hold still while I put this…. Here.” Stross said as he aligned the old bone and the new one and prepared to heat-fuze them together. “You might want to clench your teeth. This is probably going to-“

“NNNNEEERRRR-HUURRRR-Hurrr!” Brelyna shrieked in pain as Stross started to melt the two bone halves together.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Almost done. Almost done!” Stross soothed as he tried to keep his focus on the bones and nothing else, lest he lose focus and burn something he wasn’t supposed to. “There… all done. Finally.”

Brelyna just nodded and tried to breathe normally again.

The tears spilling down her cheeks told Stross that fusing limbs back on was probably way more painful if you had skin instead of scales. So Stross took extra care while wrapping the bandage around the healing flesh. A quickly made sling to keep her arm from moving and he was finished.

Stross leant back and observed his handiwork; not too bad, all things considered.

“I’d take it easy on that arm until it’s healed all the way.” Stross told her just as a matter of caution.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Brelyna said and scooched over to Stross on the embalming table “Thank you for saving us, all of us. You’re amazing Stross.”

“Yeah…” Stross sighed and looked down at his hanging feet, kicking them idly.

“But are you okay?” Brelyna asked “After all this we should all be worried about you the most.”

“I’ll be fine. It was just really close.” Stross told her “When I saw you all just lying there covered in blood, and my magic was almost gone I thought I was going to lose every one of you. Onmund and J’zargo were full of holes, Trixie lost an eye, and Fenora… Brelyna, why are you even here?”

“What?” Brelyna asked, for a second thinking Stross was trying to push her away.

“Why did they send apprentices to get this stupid staff?” Stross asked “It’s too dangerous for you- by the Fallen, it would be too much for an army! I don’t think me and Fen would stand a chance against all this if we did this all ourselves, let alone while looking after all of you.”

“I’m sorry Stross, I didn’t mean to be a burden on you. None of us meant to.”

“I didn’t mean it like that- it’s just I-“ Stross stuttered before realizing she was right in a way. “It’s not your fault. Skyrim needed heroes and you were all that were left. It’s… it’s just too much, and I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of it, especially my friends.” Stross sighed “I’ve barely ever had friends before, being a changeling and all that, not real friends at least. Not friends I could be me with.”

Brelyna didn’t know what to tell Stross, how to respond. She and him were the same in a way, but she’d never had friends because she’d never had the chance. He’d had all the chances and they’d blown up in his face. All the psychology books she’d memorized failed her, and all she could do was give him a sideways hug, lean her head onto his shoulder and hope it helped.

For a few minutes the just sat there, Stross with his eyes shut up in thought. Then he spoke up. “Hey Brey, I need to be alone for a minute. Can you keep an eye on the others while I’m gone?”

“Of course.” She answered simply “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Stross hummed and walked away down the path.

As he walked down the damp stone steps, listening to the water trickle down the rocks, Stross would have left his mind to wander had it not been for a blur of movement catching his eye. He turned to look, quickening his pace and rounding a corner down a narrow passageway. It soon came to a dead end, and standing there, looking disheveled and muttering to herself as she hit her fist against the solid rock was Trixie.

“Trixie?” Stross called out “What are you doing?”

The unicorn mage turned her head to face him, showing the makeshift bandage that covered her eye. Stross had tried to heal it when she was still asleep, but eyes were complex, and the healing simply made it scab over into a perfectly round white orb in her socket.

“What do you want changeling?” Trixie said, sounding very annoyed and even a bit anxious. She returned to testing different spots on the wall “Unless you can offer Trixie a way out of this horrible place, leave Trixie alone.”

“Are you okay?” Stross offered.

Trixie grit her teeth and momentarily paused what she was doing. “NO! Trixie is NOT okay!” she snapped and rounded on him “Trixie is exhausted and freezing. Trixie just lost an eye! And worst of all, Trixie is going to die in a cave, and it’s all your fault!”

Stross was taken aback, and tried to retort. “What do you mea-“

“If you hadn’t eaten that dumb wisp, none of us would have gotten hurt!” she cut him off “Trixie should have gone back to Winterhold the second she saw you! Trixie should have let you risk your life here alone. Changelings have never been anything but trouble and grief for me!”

Stross was going to feel hurt, but the fact that Trixie snapped out of her third person at the very end gave him pause. Out of curiosity, he asked her “What do you mean we’ve only been trouble?”

Trixie blinked, realizing she slipped up and tried to cover it with a frown. “That’s none of your business.” She huffed and turned her back.

“I haven’t done anything bad to you so far. I saved you just now, and healed your hand when you cut yourself! What have I ever done?!” Stross yelled.

Trixie crossed her arms and remained silent.

Stross grabbed her shoulders, spun her around to face him and started shaking her back and forth. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! TELL ME!” he demanded like a stubborn child who was denied a cookie.

“Fine!” Trixie slapped him off “Since it’s so important to you, I knew a changeling once!”

“Ooh.” Stross gave her his full attention, pulled up a seat and cracked open a wisp core like a coconut drink.

“Yes… I knew a changeling once, befriended her even.” Trixie sighed and got lost in her memories.

*Flashback returns!**Nostalgia film grain powers ACTIVATE!*

A cool night breeze passed over the city street where a humble stage was set up. The performer had just taken a bow and the small crowd that had gathered to watch was quickly dissipating. Out of the back, a blue unicorn in a purple star-patterned hat and cape wobbled out and sat on the stairs leading to her trailer/stage, practically collapsing on her rump.

Trixie removed her hat and wiped the sweat from her brow. The performance had been an exhausting one, but ever since her disgrace at Ponyville she had needed to give larger, more dazzling, more spectacular performances.

She didn’t even realize when a blonde pegasus mare with a deep purple coat approached her. She looked up in surprise, but it quickly turned to apprehension; another pony expecting a picture and an autograph. She’d had to start giving the mementos out for free ever since her decline.

But then the mare did something she didn’t expect.

“Trixie met her after a wildly successful show in Fillydelphia, she introduced herself as Floor Show; she brought Trixie a smoothie and asked if she could carry Trixie’s props. Apparently she was a huge fan of Trixie’s.”

…

A bright blue box painted with glittering stars wheeled itself on stage.

Trixie announced that for her next trick, she would need the help of her lovely assistant, and a few ponies in the crowd mumbled in confusion, as such a thing was yet unheard of for the traveling showmare.

Then Floor Show walked on from left stage, wearing quite a revealing gold skintight leotard, and earning a number of hoots and whistles from the stallions in the crowd.

Trixie rolled her eyes and opened the box, revealing there to be nothing inside. She motioned for Floor to get in, and proceeded to explain that she wound be cutting the mare in half as she pulled out a floppy saw.

Most of the crowd yawned at the old and dated trick. But Trixie proceeded to pass the saw through the box halves and pulled them apart when she was done, showing that she had indeed sawn her assistant in half.

It lasted for about a second.

Floor then wiggled herself out of her half of the box, still very much whole and proceeded to blatantly tell the crowd in an overly oblivious voice that she the other half was empty, and that she was in the first half the whole time. Trixie growled at the betrayal, about to give her assistant an earful right on stage.

But then another Floor Show popped out of the box, announcing that she had been in the first half as well! A third and fourth followed, stating the same as the audience rubbed their eyes. The Floor Show’s danced over to Trixie and caught her between them as they all took a bow.

The audience began clapping, then they began cheering. A roaring applause sounded out as flowers were thrown on stage.

Trixie turned to Floor and quietly whispered in her ear, asking how she did it. Floor just smiled sweetly and told her it was a secret, and she’d tell her later.

"It was the most successful show Trixie had performed in a long time. ‘Our tricks really floored them.’ she’d say. We kept going for weeks, and in every act Floor Show would create a new surprise that even Trixie didn’t know about. The ponies loved her, and she made sure they loved Trixie too. She… didn’t even mind when Trixie took the spotlight from her.

“We had made it together, my wonderful assistant and I, we had reserved a show to play before the Superb-Owl Hoofball championships! We were inseparable, unstoppable together."

...

It was the night before the big show that would make the showponies’ careers, and Trixie was a nervous wreck. She sat in their hotel room pacing back and forth, looking over the routines. It was only a three minute performance, so she’d have to make it bigger than big. It had to be the most spectacular thing anypony had ever seen!

Floor show walked in the door, carrying the take-out they’d ordered. When she saw Trixie practically tearing her mane out she put the food on the counter and rushed over to calm her down.

Floor let Trixie vent her anxieties to her, let out all the stress she’d been feeling since they booked the gig. Trixie turned to her with the first hint of unsureness Floor had ever seen in the mare, and in a moment of weakness, Trixie asked if they should just cancel the show.

Floor just took her in her hooves and kissed her on the mouth. It was a quick one, but it pulled Trixie out of her state. Floor told her that she had nothing to worry about, and that she’d be with her the whole way.

Trixie appreciated it, but remained unconvinced, still doubtful of herself.

Floor knew it was time. Softly, she asked if she could trust Trixie with a secret. Trixie nodded, and Floor was covered in a whirl of purple fire, revealing her true form.

Trixie’s eyes widened, but Floor cut her off before she could scream.

“’Don’t you see Trix? This is how I’m able to do all those things in our shows; I’ve got magic too, and it’s fueled by all the ponies watching us. They love our performance, and I’m able to feed off them to power my spells.’ She told me ‘Ponies might have slandered your name at one point, but the truth is, you’re an amazing performer, most of the things I do I adapted from your tricks! With my magic and your showmareship, we’ve got nothing to worry about. So stop being so shaky, it doesn’t suit you so well.’”

Trixie smiled as Floor put on her disguise again. She was right, they had it as long as they were together.

*End flashback*

“And then when the day came for us to preform, she wasn’t there.” Trixie said, biting back tears. “Trixie had to preform alone, but it wasn’t the same without her, and the crowd knew it! Trixie tried to give them the biggest act they’d seen… but I went too far and my spell backfired. The next thing I know, I’m laying face first in the grass in the middle of nowhere, with this weird body and no way back.

“I loved Floor Show, she was my friend. And she abandoned me when I needed her most!” Trixie ended her story and heard a faint sniffling coming from behind.

She turned around to see Stross bawling his eyes out and blowing his nose on a linen wrap. “Th-that was the saddest story EVER!” he said with jumpy breath before loudly blowing his nose again. He got up and walked towards Trixie. “I have to hug you.”

“No. Get away from Trixie.” Trixie said and tried to push him away.

Unfortunately, she didn’t know that one doesn’t say no to changeling hugs.

…

After a tearful moment where Trixie kept resisting, only to finally break down and cry into Stross’s hug as he did the same into hers, the changeling walked back to the others with her. But he stopped right before they arrived in the next room.

“You go on ahead, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Stross told her.

Trixie nodded. “Alright. And… thank you, Stross.”

Stross waved to her and turned back down the passages leading deeper into Labyrinthian. He quickened his pace and set off at a run, knowing he wouldn’t be back until he had completely cleared the way ahead and secured a safe passage out for his friends.

Whatever he encountered ahead he would deal with. Whoever conjured that magic draining wind, he’d make them stop. If he had to fight for his life against an army of ghosts and draugr to retrieve the staff, he’d do it. He do anything if it meant keeping his friends from harm.

Where am I? What is that? Why am I on fire?!

Stross was a changeling much like any other. He spent most days disguised as a pony hanging out among the other ponies in Equestria and feeding off them when he was hungry. They just had so much of it, and it was incredibly easy to get them to part with it, when they thought he was a pony at least.

It wasn’t until the invasion of Canterlot that things got harder on him. Stross didn’t take part in it of course, invading always seemed so blunt and ruthless. He preferred a more subtle take on things. Even so, every guard, in every city was looking for him and his foolish brethren now, which made his job all the more difficult.

...

It was a calm and peaceful day when it happened, and Stross didn’t know what went wrong. All he remembered was finding a young mare all alone, walking over to her, and asking her if she’d like to get some lunch. The rest of the afternoon passed in sort of a blur, but ended in him being chased through the streets; half the towns guards on his tail.

“Shit shit shit shit, shit!” Stross cursed to himself as he tore around a corner and into the crowded market street. “Why does everything have to go so wrong?” He asked to no one as he dove behind an empty stand and assumed a random disguise.

“These ponies are crazy nowadays- ugk!”

When Stross looked up to see who he had bumped into, he was shocked to see a stallion that looked exactly like the form he had just taken, right when the platoon of armed guards rounded the corner and surrounded them.

“Stop right there criminal scum!”

Stross knew he was in trouble, but if he could somehow trick the guards into believing the other pony was the changeling and not him, he could-

“Alright I confess!”

“Wait what?” Stross asked.

"Wait, what?" a couple of guards echoed his words, equally confused.

“Here’s the money I took!” the stallion dumped out his saddlebags, the golden coins falling to the ground “I only took it because he owed me the money anyway. I didn’t think he would mind!” he yelled out between sobs.

The guards and even several bystanders gave a questioning look at each other.

“Umm… sir?” one of the guards reached over.

“Y- yes?” the stallion chocked out.

“We were actually looking for the changeling over there.” the guard pointed to empty air, before doing a double-take.

“Foal of a-

Stross had slipped away several moments ago, and was now in a new form, running as fast as his legs could carry him in any other direction.

“That was way too close!” He thought to himself “I need to get out of here! If only I had a faste-“ he stopped mid-thought as a new revelation came to him. “Wait a minute, I know magic!”

Stross dropped his disguise and began charging power into his horn, weaving it into a spell.

“I just need to teleport to somewhere far away and-“

Before he could finish, a lavender unicorn bumped into him, unable to see where she was going due to her book.

There was a huge green flash as Stross lost his focus, and overcharged his spell. In less than a millisecond, he was gone. The unicorn blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. Picking up her book again, she continued on her way.

Meanwhile, in a galaxy far, far away… (wrong intro sequence!)

Oh, sorry.

Meanwhile, beyond the frozen tundra… in the homeland of the nords. Where radiant stories bloom and you can dual-wield magic and swords! (There we go)

Anyway, that’s where Stross ended up after his teleportation spell went amiss. Face down in the dirt, he took a moment to get his bearings… then another… and another… it actually took him about four full minutes to pull himself up and get a look around.

“Ow my head.” he groaned “What happened, and -He paused to look at his hooves- “What happened to my body?”

Stross was indeed different from what he was used to. He still had his horn and insectile wings, his skin was still hard and chitinous, and his limbs were still corroded and full of holes. But instead of ending in stumps, his legs now had five smaller appendages on the ends; fingers. Stross had been a griffon once or twice, so the fingers he could get used to. But what he had never tried before was a bipedal form like the one he now possessed.

Summoning his magic and trying to change back to his normal shape yielded no results and only left him with a throbbing headache.

“Well that was pointless.” Stross sighed as he looked around for any indication as to where he was.

He found himself standing on an overgrown dirt path. Seeing no better alternative, he decided to follow it. Slowly, carefully, and with more than a few stumbles and face-plants, he made it to a larger, more traveled road. He heard a number of hoofsteps from his right. Taking cover in the dense foliage, he waited.

Soon, the source of the noise showed itself. More than a dozen large figures in blue chainmail, riding absolutely enormous steeds, made their way down the road. As they passed, Stross noticed the giant swords and axes they carried, as well as their shields with blue bear insignias.

“Whoever they are, they’re packing a ton of steel.” Stross thought to himself as they passed “One thing’s for sure; I’m not in Equestria anymore. Maybe I can ask them for directions.”

Suddenly, a shout came from the forest in front of the group, dozens more of the strange bipedal creatures burst out of the undergrowth, bows and arrows poised and ready to fire. Battle-cries and shouts of distress echoed throughout the ranks until a thunderous voice silenced them all.

“ENOUGH!” it bellowed “Hold where you are my brothers, we are outnumbered.”

“What would you have us do Ulfric?” another voice asked.

There was a pause.

“Stand down and surrender yourselves. There is no need for more bloodshed; not among our own.”

“A wise choice Jarl Ulfric.” a third voice joined in.

“-even if our own are a bunch of elf-loving traitors.”

“Enough! Take them into custody, and gag this one.”

Stross was starting to feel a bit nervous as he watched from his hiding place. Intrigued as he was, he felt a bit too close to the action. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Got another over here!”

Stross whipped his head around just in time to see the sword handle collide with his face before falling into darkness.

Stross awoke in a familiar setting; one he knew would surely mean death for him. Looking at the bleak stone walls of his cell and ignoring the pounding in his head, he struggled into a sitting position. Saying there wasn't much to the cell was being generous. At best it was a stone box with a wooden-frame bed in it.

“Sheesh, even the prisons in Equestria are better than this.” He thought as he looked for a way out. “No windows; and judging by how dark it is I’m probably underground.”

“Perfect.” Stross sighed as he walked over to the bars.

It was only as he took the first step that he felt something drag at his left ankle. Looking down he spotted the cause; a chain had him shackled to the floor.

“Hmm, so they feel like giving me a challenge, do they?”

He tried to gather energy into his horn for a spell to cut though the chain, a glow slowly grew stronger as he focused. But before he could muster the strength to complete it, the spell fizzled and Stross fell to the floor, panting for breath.

“Damn, how long have I been out? How long since I last fed?”

With his magic a no-go, he grasped the bars and pulled himself up. Looking out of his cell for the first time he saw another row across from his, each occupied by one of those big fleshy creatures he had seen before. As he tried to get a closer look he felt his head pop through the vertical bars. Quickly pulling himself back out, an idea occurred to him. Deciding to test his theory, he turned to his side and tried to squeeze through the cell door. With a lot of pushing, jerking, and discomfort, he managed to get his entire body through the bars and to the other side before the chain around his ankle impeded any further progress.

“Damn this thing, if I had my magic you’d be molten dust right now.” he mentally cursed as he pulled fruitlessly at the chain.

Before he could find out if he could chew off his own leg, a voice got his attention.

“You’ll need to do a lot more than that to break out of our prisons, bug.” an imperial guardsman told him passively before turning to his friend. “Get the others ready for transport to Helgen, I’ll take care of this one.” he said, lightly pounding his fists together.

“Eep”

When Stross awoke, he found he was on a wooden cart, seated next to four other prisoners. Two wearing the blue chainmail he’d seen when he first arrived. None of them talked much, though they gave him strange glances every now and then. Each cart following in line along a path through the mountains, that was how it stayed for the next couple of hours until the fifth member of their wagon-group woke up.

Stross had noticed it first when she woke, mostly because he’d been watching her for most of the ride. She was different than the rest of them, her entire body was much more slender than theirs, definitely female. Most notably though was her face, it was longer that most others he’d seen, with pointed ears that poked out under her long silver hair, and large black eyes with a shade of deep amber to them.

Stross secretly wished she had woken up sooner. Partly so he might have someone to talk to, and partly so she wouldn't have missed the amazing view as they climbed over the mountains. All there was to look at now were trees, rocks, and some snow.

“So… finally awake I see.” a man in blue chainmail spoke up. “You tried to cross the border when you were caught in that Imperial ambush, right? Same as us, and those two over there; the horse thief and the bug.”

“Damn you Stormcloaks.” the thief chimed in, clearly angry with his predicament “Skyrim was fine until you came along; the empire was nice and lazy around these parts. If it weren’t for you I could have been halfway to Hammerfell by now.” he seethed.

“Skyrim? Hammerfell? I never even heard of those places, anywhere. Am I even in my own world anymore?”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” The Stormcloak spat back.

The man next to Stross tried to grunt something through his gag.

“What’s up with him?” the horse thief asked “did he try to bite them or something?”

“Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!” the Stormcloak scolded.

“High king?”

“Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm? Leader of the rebellion? But if they’ve captured you, where are they taking us?” The thief asked, fear now entering his voice.

“Where do you think? End of the line.” the Stormcloak answered solemnly.

“So there’s a civil war going on; sounds pretty serious if they’re willing to execute anyone even remotely involved.”

“You can’t be serious! They can’t do that, I wasn’t even with you!” the thief yelled in disbelief.

“Shut up back there.” the driver of the cart uncaringly threw back.

The wagon train began entering a small village. As they passed through the gate and got a look at the buildings, the Stormcloaks’ eyes sparkled with memory.

“This is Helgen.” he told them “I used to be sweet on a girl from here; would visit whenever I got the chance. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper-berries mixed in.” he looked away, possibly hiding tears “It’s funny, you know? When I was a small boy, imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe. How times have changed.”

Stross looked around; unsurprisingly he saw that most of the townspeople had come to watch the execution. Save for a few, like the children who were being led back inside.

“Hey, what village are you from horse thief?” the Stormcloak asked.

“Roriksted… I- I’m from Roriksted. Why do you care?”

“A nords last thoughts should be of home. Anyone’s last thoughts should be of home.” he answered “You, wood-elf. Where are you from?”

“I was visiting a friend in Elsweyr.” She told them, her voice like music and soft grass “I was heading back to my home in High rock… and now I’m here.”

She had obviously caught Stross staring at her, and had stared back in return. Stross didn’t mind though, he liked looking at her eyes.

“So where are you from?”

He was startled out of his staring by her question.

“I umm… I’m from the Duna-mar badlands, outside southern Equestria.” he stuttered out in his scratchy voice “Why did I just tell her that?”

“So, the bug can talk.” noted the Stormcloak.

The wagons reached their stop at the end of the town. All the way the horse thief had been praying to several deities to save him. On the way they had passed a military official on a horse talking to some pointy-eared people in pitch black robes; the Stormcloak identified them as General Tullius and the Thalmor, muttering something at the end about “damn elves” and “I bet they had something to do with this”. The elf riding with them shot him a glare when he said that.

When they dismounted the wagon with the rest of the prisoners, an imperial soldier with a book began reading names as they stepped forward.

“Ulfic Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm”

The man with the gag stepped forward.

“Ralof of Riverwood.”

The Stormcloak soldier stepped forward with a look of resentment towards the imperial.

“Lokir of Roriksted”

“NO! We’re NOT rebels, you can’t do this!”

At this point Stross had spotted the executioner near the block, sharpening his axe. He realized that while his hands were bound, his feet were free now. He considered making a run for it while the thief argued with the imperial guardsmen. But the thief beat him to it, and was now sprinting away as fast as his legs could carry him yelling “You’re not going to kill me you imperial scum!”

He didn’t get far before the captain signaled to the archers. One arrow hit him in the thigh, another in the small of his back, and a final one drilled him through the back of his skull. He was dead before he hit the ground.

“Anyone else feel like running?” the guard captain threatened. “Then get on with the list!”

“Well… looks like I’m not running for it after all. Poor guy.”

“You there, step forward.” the guardsman continued “Wait, who… are you?”

“Fenora Tandis, herb farmer of High rock.” she told him.

“Captain, what do we do? She’s not on the list.”

“Forget the list,” the captain ordered “she was caught with the Stormcloaks, she goes to the block!”

“By the swarm, these imperials are  worse than the ponies even AFTER we invaded.”

And it was true, even after the invasion of Canterlot had been repelled, the ponies made no attempt the hunt them down. Only those changelings foolish or desperate enough to threaten them again were ever harmed. But these imperials just killed anyone they felt like, on even the suspicion of working with the rebellion. It was small wonder why there was a rebellion to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” he told her “we’ll make sure your remains are delivered back to High rock.”

“Elsweyr, have them send me to Elsweyr.”

“Very well, next.”

When Fenora stepped out of the way the guardsman finally spotted Stross, and didn’t know what to make of him. To him he looked something of a cross between an argonian and a mudcrab.

“Umm… captain?”

“Oh what fresh Oblivion is this?” The captain asked rhetorically.

“What do we-“

“I don’t care what that abomination is, send it to the block!”

“Bitch.”

Tullius and Ulfric had a quick, one-sided conversation in which Tullius denounced Ulfrics’ title as a hero of the nords, for using “the voice” to murder his own king. At which, Ulfric could only grunt angrily though his gag.

As the execution ceremony began, a priest walked up to the block and began a paryer.

“As we commend your souls to Etherius, blessings of the eight divines be upon you, may you-

She was quickly interrupted when a Stormcloak soldier pushed his way up to the block.

“How DARE you!? I’ll not have you slander our beliefs the moment before you sentence me, and my brothers and sisters to death!” he shouted “So for the love of Talos, shut up, and let’s get this over with!”

“As you wish.” The priestess hissed before stepping down.

The Stormcloak walked over and knelt down at the block. “My ancestors are smiling at me imperials, can you say the same?” Were his last words before the headsman raised his massive axe and cleanly severed his head.

“Murderers!”

“You imperial bastards!” his comrades yelled out as his body was kicked aside.

“Next, the wood-elf!” the captain ordered.

“No, no, not her.”

Stross frantically looked around for a way to save Fenora as she was escorted to the block.

“Oh no, you bastards aren’t getting her.” Stross thought as he gathered his magic at the tip of his horn. “Come on, just enough for a stun spell, or a flash-bang spell… something.”

It was no use; Stross was still too drained to cast anything. His mind raced through possibilities as Fenora knelt down at the block.

“I could maybe grab one of their swords. Take the axe and fight them off. Or just charge over to grab her and we run for it, she could even use me as a shield. Dammit think!”

But fate had a mind of its’ own that day, and the sky was covered in clouds as a dragon, yes a dragon, as black as the night sky with piercing red eyes, descended into the village.

“What in Oblivion is that?!” general Tullius yelled.

“Sentries, do you have a bead on it?” the captain yelled.

“It’s in the clouds!”

“No it’s not! It’s right there on that tower you idiots, shoot it!”

Suddenly the dragon shouted, and a thunderclap erupted from its mouth. A rain of fire fell from the sky as it took to the air, breathing fire upon all those below. It was safe to say the execution had been put on hold.

As the dragon set the village aflame, the guards tried to get the townspeople to safety while the Stormcloak prisoners fled for their lives, Stross had one other thing on his mind; saving Fenora. He didn’t know why he cared so much for her, especially when they had literally just met; maybe it was because he was hungry, but he didn’t think about it too much as he dragged her to safety with his teeth.

“Fenora, get up!” he shook her out of her daze “We have to get out of here before the whole village burns down around us!”

“One of the soldiers said there was a way out through the keep, we should try to join them.”

“The ones that just tried to kill us?” he questioned like Fenora was insane.

“Do you have a better plan?” she countered.

“Well… no.”

“Then the keep it is.”Fenora grabbed onto him and pulled him over to the outer wall of the fortress.

They made their way along to the entrance, staying close to the wall to avoid the fire. All around them was chaos as the imperial mages and archers attempted to bring the dragon down with only their longbows and spells. They may as well have been firing toothpicks and spitwads as the dragon body-slammed into yet another house, sending debris and timbers everywhere.

When they reached the front door of the keep, they witnessed an argument between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks.

“Ralof, you damned traitor. Out of our way!”

“We’re escaping too Hadvar, you can’t stop us this time.”

“We’ll see about that, have at it!” Hadvar yelled as he drew his sword.

Ralof responded in kind. But both were interrupted when the dragon torpedoed into the ground, plowing through it with its massive talons. The Stormcloaks and Imperials barely had any time to dodge. Even then, some were not so lucky. Those caught by the dragon were dragged into the sky along with it, and thrown into the distance.

“I can see my house from here!” one yelled as he was flung “It’s on fire!”

“We don’t have time for this, get in the keep!” Ulfric yelled to those remaining.

They quickly scrambled and shoved their way into the keep. Stross and Fenora were too late however, as a giant slab of flaming rock blocked their access before they could get through.

“Great, what now?” Fenora asked.

Stross quickly looked around, trying to find an alternate means of escape.

“Over there!” He yelled as he ran to a gate across from the keep's entrance. “Help me get this open.”

With a great amount of effort, mostly from Fenora, the managed to pry the gate open enough to get through. As they stepped through, the spot where they were just standing a moment before exploded into flame. The dragon had spotted them and was now gunning them down.

“RUN!” Stross yelled.

“Forget that, ride!” Fenora called back as she pushed a delivery wagon onto the road and hoped on the back “Get in.”

Stross caught up and grabbed her hand. Fenora quickly pulled him onboard while the gate behind them was destroyed as a six ton dragon smashed through it and took off into the sky, leaving several dozen dead, and a burning wreck of a town behind him.

The horn of Jurgan Wind- what do you mean it's not there?

“Okay everyone, just hold onto those soul gems now. And-“ Falion picked up a spray-bottle and walked down the line of vampires “The power of Shor compels you!... And you, and you, and you, and you-“

As he sprayed them with holy water and whatever, the vampires reverted to human form, their vampiric curse trapped inside the soul gems which abruptly crumble away.

“Thank you.” one of the vampires said as he reached a hand out to the sunlight. “It feels good to human again.”

“You’re welcome,” Falion said as he gathered up his remaining supplies “but that’s where my job ends. So I’ll just leave you with these nice men with swords.”

“Get moving to the prison, criminal scum!” one of the guards said as he pushed them along “No one brain-fucks Morthal and gets away with it.”

Stross and the gang watched as they collected their payment from Idgrod, who made them thanes of Hjallmarch and threw in some sandwiches as well. It was surprising how many of the vampires stuck around to be cured by Falion once Movarth was destroyed. As it turned out, he wasn’t the most caring tyrannical leader, and most of his coven leapt at the chance to be free of his curse now that they wouldn’t have to face his wrath…

But they still planned to take over Morthal and murdered a lot of innocent travelers to sate their hunger, so they were still going to jail unless they paid one thousand gold for each person they killed while being detected… which is way more than they could pay so each of them got a week in jail.

Man, the penalty for crime is really lenient in Skyrim.

Anyways, it was off to Ustengrav for our heroes and nothing was going to get in their way.

“Take me with you!” a woman in black robes pleaded them as she stood very much in their way “Please I have nowhere else to go.”

“Hey, slow down. Who are you anyway?” Stross asked as she tried to pry the woman off his leg.

“She’s Alva’s vampire servant,” Fenora told them “the one that killed Hroggar’s family.”

“W- what? I didn’t even- How did you know?” Laelette stammered.

Fenora looked at her flatly and pointed out the words that read :Property of Alva. If found, please return to Morthal: stenciled onto her robes in bright red paint.

“Oh… that.” Laelette chuckled awkwardly.

“My thane, we’re not really considering this, are we?” Lydia said cautiously “Those vampires nearly killed you two. Also I’m still upset you didn’t bring me along to help.”

“You just looked so peaceful when you were sleeping,” Fenora said in her defense “and no, we’re not bringing her along. Come on, let’s get moving.”

With that, Fenora continued onwards, but quickly found her path blocked again.

“You don’t understand!” Laellete grabbed her shoulders.

“I understand that you burned a woman and her daughter alive while they slept, AND tried to make that little girl a vampire so you could take her as your own.” Fenora shoved her off.

“I never wanted to!” Laelette yelled “Alva made me do it, but I still tried to save them so they could live as vampires like us. I messed it up and then couldn’t bring them back. Now I can’t stop seeing them burning.” she wailed “I can’t go back to that town, not anymore; they’d never understand. Even Thronir said that I wasn’t his wife anymore. He said his Laelette died fighting with the Stromcloaks and that I was just some monster that looked like her.”

Stross pulled her into a hug as she sat on the ground sobbing.

“Welcome to the team, mine kindred spirit.”

So after Stross won the argument with Fenora by holding his breath until she said yes, the four of them continued to Ustengrav. For realzies this time.

When they arrived at the crumbling nordic tomb, they came across a campsite covered in bloodstains.

“Geez, what do you think did this?” Lydia asked as she examined the pools of blood covering the bedrolls.

“I’m not sure, but this is obviously a bandit campsite. I mean who else would live like this?” Fenora observed as she sifted through a few piles of trash with the end of her sword “Maybe a bounty hunter or wild animals did this?”

“Umm, I don’t think it was animals.” Laelette commented nervously “Not enough blood or body parts left, even if the bodies were dragged off or eaten. Not to mention that there are no drag marks, cremation sites, or freshly upturned soil.”

Laelette then noticed the looks she was getting from the others. “What?” she asked as if she was oblivious to her knowledge of slaughter marks.

“Hey you guys, umm… gals.” Stross got their attention “I’ve got some bad mojo going on over here.” he pointed to the entrance of the tomb.

“What kind of baddies? And what weapons should I bring to kill 'em?” Fenora asked as she cycled through her armory of a backpack.

"I'm not sure... but it gives me the shivers." Stross told her nervously.

"Right then, all kinds of weapons."

As they stealthily entered Ustengrav… well at least as stealthily as you could with all the sharp bits of metal and platemail they had on them, they overheard the sound of metal clanking against rock. Soon they discovered the source. Necromancers had come delving for treasure and had killed the bandits to be used as undead muscle.

“Dammit, there it goes again.” one of them grumbled as her reanimation spell wore off and the bandits collapsed to the floor “I swear this is almost as tedious as just digging out this rubble ourselves... almost.”

“And it seems as though they get stupider every time you raise them, if that’s even possible.” another necromancer remarked as his colleague re-reanimated the bandits to resume their work.

“They’re smart enough to swing a pick, and that’s all we need them for.”

“Well… I wouldn’t say that’s all we can use them for. If you know what I mean.” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

“What do you…? Oh. Ooooh… OH!” the female necromancer yelled as she came to a frightening realization “That is just messed up Leckral! What kind of necromancer-"

They were interrupted by a muffled yell from deeper in the catacombs.

“The others must have found something, I’ll go check. And remember what I told you, you don’t know what you’re missing out on.” he winked at her and left through an unblocked passage.

…

Behind a wall of collapsed pillars, our heroes had just overheard most of that conversation and were either working on a plan of attack, or vomiting up their breakfasts.

“Umm… miss Fenora, can I eat those necromancers?” Laelette asked in an ironically sweet voice “I’m really hungry.”

“Don’t talk to me about eating right now, just go get them.” Fenora said as she wiped her mouth from another bout of dry-heaving.

Laelette clapped her hands happily and snuck towards the lone necromancer, who currently had her back turned as she looked over her thralls’… bathing-suit areas. (Whew, gotta keep it close to Pg-13 here guys)

“Soooo, you like dead guys huh?” she chirped once she was right behind the necromancer.

Her target whipped around to see her cheerful, smiling face before it contorted into an expression of pure hunger, fangs protruding from beneath her lips. She would have been on the necromancer, draining her dry in seconds if Stross hadn’t stopped her.

“Hold on! And you,” he zapped the necromancer with a stun spell and then stuck her to the floor with his resin “just stay right there. Okay then,” he turned back to Laelette, who looked at him questioningly  “I don’t know what Alva (that heartless bitch) taught you about feeding, but always know that no matter what, all life is precious. What I mean is, when you feed, life is being taken from one to sustain the life of another and should always be done sparingly and with respect.” Stross said with the tone of a wise philosopher  “Feed only when in need, and never waste what has been taken. I vowed once to be a better changeling, to live my life doing as little harm as possible, and that’s the mantra I’ve lived by ever since.”

“*sniff* That was beautiful.” Laelette said as she wiped away a tear.

“Really? I’ve worked on that for a little while, but I always thought it was too ‘holier-than-thou’, but if you liked it then- *Clang* -Ow my head!”

“Protect master.” one of the undead thralls monotoned as he smacked Stross across the face with a shovel.

“About damn time, now get them!” the necromancer ordered her shuffling servants.

Before they could get any swings in however, each was taken down by arrows and subsequently reduced to ashes.

“I have my own motto,” Fenora said with a smirk as she walked up to them “Whatever tries to kill me, is going to die for it.”

“Ooo, that’s a good one too.” Laelette said as she wrote it down.

So apparently the necromancers had disturbed the sleeping drauger, who were now awake and attacking anyone who intruded into their resting place. Fortunately, our heroes found them pretty easy to deal with, and after looting the walking corpse’s… corpses, for weapons and treasure, they found themselves faced with a new obstacle. An obstacle that made itself known when a platoon of skeletal swordsmen triggered it and accidently re-killed themselves; floor-mounted fire traps.

“Okay… so how do we get past this nonsense?” Fenora asked to no one in particular “And for that matter how did anyone else? There’s literally no way around them. Why even have these things here?”

“Well you see my thane, Nords really don’t like people grave-robbing. And we like getting killed by our fallen ancestors even less.” Lydia explained.

“Don’t worry,” Stross told them “I have wings. I can just pick you up one at a time and carry you over, easy.” he demonstrated by flying up… and immediately getting snatched by a giant spider, who wrapped him up, and dragged him deeper down the tunnels.

“AAAHH! Help me you guys, this thing is worse than my grandma!” he screamed as the others stood there in shock.

After hastily finding their way through the fire traps, discovering which ones still had oil to feed the flames through trial and error and coming out medium-rare as a result, they finally found their way to a room covered with webs. Light shined down through a large hole in the ceiling and the cocooned bodies of forest animals littered the floor and walls. But the thing that captured their attention the most was the screaming, dear Divines the screaming. It was like someone took a million whistles and strapped them to an engine turbine.

Stross had been cocooned, but that didn’t stop him from frantically wiggling and rolling his way across the floor to get away from the multi-limbed monstrosities that hungrily pursued him.

“Umm, shouldn’t we be helping him?” Lydia asked the obvious question as they all just sort of stood there.

“I want to but… I just can’t stop watching.” Fenora said as she blankly gazed at Stross caterpillering away from the spiders. “It’s like Animal Planet meets Benny Hill.”

“What?”

“What? Oh wait- Stross!” Fenora finally snapped out of it and dropped the popcorn that somehow appeared in her hand.

A few second later all the spiders were now mushy piles of arachnid juice or skewered to the wall. They might not be very dangerous or smart, but those things will haunt your nightmares for days; a fact that Stross was keen to remind them.

“They were everywhere and they were touching me all over with their hairy legs! Legs don’t make that sound!” Stross wailed as he clung to Fenora’s back and refused to let go. She didn’t mind though.

“Yeah, sorry about that Stross.” she said as she held onto his hands “But it was really funny to watch, especially with how much you were screaming.”

“You’re horrible but I love you.” Stross nuzzled her neck.

The group entered the main burial chamber. As they did, stone pillars in the stylized shape of roaring dragons emerged from the water to the sides of the stone bridge. Even the drauger had already been slain, it was as though the universe had finally cut our heroes a break. After all their hardships, they had emerged victorious together, and now all obstacles parted before them as the very room welcomed them.

They gazed wide-eyed at the grave of Jurgan Windcaller as they approached. His legendary horn, the solution to the entire world ending calamity that they’d been tasked by destiny to solve lay right at their fingertips and-

“It’s not here.” Stross pointed out. “Look, there’s just the empty place where it should be, no note, or I.O.U., or anything.” he explained as he searched around the base for anywhere it may have fallen out. Fenora, Lydia, and Laelette quickly joined him, searching all over the burial chamber for the key to defeating Alduin.

“I’m so sick of this always happening.” Fenora groaned after several minutes of scouring the room only to come up empty handed.

“I have to agree with you there, my thane.”

“You mean this happens all the time to you guys?” Laelette asked, unaware of the group’s previous misfortune in finding important artifacts.

“Yeah, it’s just like with Bleak Falls and the dragonstone.” Stross remembered.

“No, if this were like Bleak Falls a dead guy with what we need would have jumped out and tried to kill us by now.” Fenora pointed out.

As if the cosmic forces were waiting for that queue so they could maximize comedic value, a dead body fell from the ceiling and landed on Stross. Defiantly, he kicked it off and got to his feet in a battle stance.

“HA! I’ve got oakflesh this time, bring it!” he said as he readied his spells.

Despite his preparedness though, the corpse just stayed slumped against the wall.

“Aww yeah, you better be scared.”

“Stross, I think that one’s already been killed.”

“Aww yeah, it better have been- Wait what?”

“Yeah see? No life force left.” Laelette walked over and poked it.

“Darn it, the one time I’m actually ready for it.” Stross walked over and kicked the body, causing its head to fall off “Hey what’s this?”

“What’s what?” Fenora asked as she and Lydia joined them.

“This.” Stross pointed out a tag on the inside collar of the corpse’s leather outfit “[Property of the Thieves guild. If found, please return to the guild’s main location in Riften. But remember not to tell anyone about where we are, because it’s a secret].” he read aloud.

Everyone exchanged a few questioning glances.

“Well,” Fenora sighed “it’s not much, but at least we’ve got something to go on. Grab those Aperture stones Stross; get us home.”

“I can’t.”

“What.” Fenora asked, fire in her eyes and venom in her voice.

“I used them yesterday, by my count we’ve still got another hour or so before they recharge. Umm, sorry?” he said sheepishly with his best apologetic grin.

So it was unanimously decided that Fenora be put in charge of the Aperture stones from now on, and seeing as how they had some more time to waste, they decided to go back to a large cavern they’d passed on the way in. There were trees and moss growing down there, and the scattered sunlight mixed with noise of the waterfall created a very soothing atmosphere.

“I still can’t believe you kept that dead guy’s armor.” Lydia told Stross as he copied down the scriptures from the word wall.

“I can’t believe none of you called dibs on it.” he admired all the extra pockets “It’s swagalicious.”

“One, it’s putrid and covered in dead guy juices.” Fenora said as she soaked her feet in the water “And two, don’t ever use the term ‘swagalicious’ to describe anything ever again.”

“You should talk; have you seen what you’re covered in lately?”

He was right, after all the fights and wilderness wandering over the last few days, Fenora was absolutely caked in dirt, singe-marks, and various types of blood.

“Huh, alright then. Lydia, stand guard for me.” Fenora said as she walked behind the waterfall, her filthy and damaged clothes getting thrown back out a moment later.

…“GAAAHH!”*Splash*

Not ten seconds after she had gone behind the waterfall for some privacy while she bathed, Fenora reemerged, fighting off a drauger by impaling it on its own sword.

“For crying out loud, isn’t there anywhere that doesn’t have some kind of trap, or ambush waiting for- what are you all looking at.” Fenora interrupted her rant as she noticed the unblinking stares her friends were giving her.

Lydia, Stross, and Laelette were granted seven glorious seconds of uninhibited eye-candy before Fenora finally traced their lines of vision. In a blur of motion she was behind the wall of rushing water again, earning a collection of groans from the others.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!” she yelled at them, blushing furiously as she pulled her soaking clothes back on

“I apologize my Thane, but I’ve never seen a woman so well endowed before. I couldn’t bring myself to look away!” Lydia yelled back.

“I wonder if I could copy her form and then look at myself in the mirror.” Stross thought as he tried to fit his wings back inside his shell.

“Let me motorboat you once and I’ll be yours for-ever.” Laelette yelled to Fenora.

It's not really an "eye" per-say, more of a spherical lens or a giant glowing camera

Fenora had decided to take a break from studying up on the dragons, and since Stross and the others still weren’t back from their little dungeon delving excursion, she thought she might as well head in to Winterhold and get something to eat. Perhaps Stross and his new friends would even meet her in the Frozen Hearth and they could all swap stories about their boring adventures in academics.

“Heh, I wonder what that little guy is doing right now.” Fenora chuckled to herself at the thought of Stross discovering ancient artifacts in old buried ruins; it actually reminded her of quite a bit of her friend in Elsweyr.

“Hopefully he won’t get himself killed doing that kind of stuff.” She said, remembering how many times her friend had nearly lost her life, and the lives of her crew as well.

It was then that she noticed Brelyna running down the main street of Winterhold, nearly tripping over her own feet as she made it past the Jarl’s longhouse.

“Fenora!” she called as she got closer “Fenora get the others, we need help!”

“What’s going on, are you okay?” Fenora slowed her down enough to talk with, though Brelyna wouldn’t stop fidgeting in place “You look terrible, what happened in-“

“It’s Stross!” Brelyna interrupted her and broke out in tears again “He’s dying!”

At those words Fenora’s world seemed to shatter and crumble away, leaving only her inner thoughts. She tuned out the Brelyna’s frantic sobbing, and she ignored the people of Winterhold gathering around them to watch the spectacle.

Fenora grabbed Brelyna’s arm, turned on her heel and dragged her back to the college. Though she would have easily rushed back to Sarthaal to aid her changeling, she knew that she’d be next to useless unprepared. She’d need to know what she was dealing with and equip herself to help.

“I told you them no good mages would do something stupid again!” one villager pointed and yelled, only to get punched out of the way a second later.

“Faralda!” Fenora called as she approached the gate to the bridge “Get the other teachers, something has gone wrong in Sarthaal!”

“Oh for fuck sake, not again.” Faralda heaved a pained groan. She then raised her hand skyward and shot a burst of red sparks into the air. The magic wellsprings that lined the bridge changed from blue to red as well, and the whole college was put on alert.

Continuing across the bridge, Fenora turned to question Brelyna. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

“It’s all my fault. I was paralyzed with fear; I just stood there and did nothing and now he's-“

There was a resounding smack as Fenora’s hand impacted her face.

“I don’t care how or why!” Fenora shook the sobbing girl and looked her in the eyes “Just tell me what happened, from the beginning if you have to.”

Though tears still ran down Brelyna’s cheeks, she did her best to be calm. “Okay. Okay… I guess it all started when I was born. My mom was a bit of a drinker…”

Fenora face-palmed with a groan and continued through the courtyard into the hall of Attainment as Brelyna recounted her painful childhood.

“… and then Stross just closed his eyes and went limp and I thought he was dead! Onmund and I were the only ones that could still walk, so he told me to go for help while he made sure the others were alright.” Brelyna finished as they approached the back entrance to Sarthaal.

“You could have just said ‘bring a ton of potions’ you know.” Fenora told her as she kicked open the secret door, careful not to damage the crate full of flasks she was holding.

On the way in they passed one of the word walls that contained knowledge of the thu’ums. Fenora made a mental note of it and promptly shoved it into the back of her mind, right now there were more important things to deal with.

Winding down the passageway a bit further, they found themselves in the room with the glowing orb.

Onmund ran up to them from where Tolfdir and J’zargo were sitting, nursing their wounds and broken bones. “Thank gods you’re back! I thought we were all gonners and- wait a minute. Is it just you Fenora? Brelyna, I thought you’d at least bring some of the teachers.”

“You mean they haven’t arrived yet? We told all of them where we were.” she nervously defended.

It was then that they hear muffled shouts echoing from further within the catacombs.

“Drat it all, the gate is jammed!”

“But we solved the puzzle, and killed the draugr.”

“What do we do now?”

“Gaaz dilon, baragul!”

“Gahh, we missed one! Get it off before it rearranges my face!”

“Oh great… they took the long way ‘round.” Onmund deflated “I’ll go tell them about the secret entrance, I moved Stross over there.” he pointed to an alcove on one of the higher ledges that had some better lighting “Please know that I did everything I could for him, but he was in really bad shape and I’m no priest… I think that even moving him made it worse.”

With that he ran to get the other mages, sparing a quick glance over his shoulder as he did.

Fenora prepared herself for the worst as she and Brelyna climbed the stairs, but even so, what she saw made her feel sick. Stross was laying atop a table normally used for embalming the dead, practically in a pool of his own blood despite the bandages and appropriated linen wraps used in a futile effort to staunch the bleeding.

“Brelyna, help me out here.” she said as she placed the wooden case on the floor and grabbed a few bottles within.

Fenora placed an ear to Stross’s chest, a mixture of relief and dismay flooding her when she heard his breathing and how ragged and shallow it was. Setting the rest of the bottles on the table, she pulled back the linen wraps and the soaked remains of Stross’s mage robes.

The stench of the ichor nearly made her gag, but even worse was the sight of the horrendous wound causing it to spill out of the changeling. She quickly uncorked the first bottle of healing potion and immediately poured it into the wound, instructing Brelyna to pour a second into his mouth. The liquid gurgled down Stross’s throat and into the trench in his torso, but it all had little effect and most of it spilled out onto the table, mixing with his own blood.

Fenora silently cursed herself for not finding out how changeling bodies worked, and cursed changeling bodies for not healing like everyone else’s did. “Magika potions, now.” She ordered, and Brelyna handed her one.

The two of them poured the potions into Stross in much the same way as the ones before, with much the same effect.

“Why isn’t it working?” Fenora pounded her fist on the table, causing a few ripples in the ever growing puddle of black liquid.

Suddenly there was an explosion behind them, bits of rock sprayed from the entrance from the catacombs along with a heavily disfigured metal gate. Out from the wreckage stepped a familiar company of mages and one absolutely massive hulking rock golem.

“Thank you Herb.” Phinis said to the construct and gave it a careful high five before sending it back to its own realm.

“Out of my way!” Colette yelled and shoved her way over to Stross. She hummed thoughtfully as she examined him “This looks dire.” She concluded. “Excellent!”

While the others gave her a few odd glances, Colette couldn’t have been more pleased with the circumstances.

“Finally… my time to shine. Let’s see you all disprove my field of study after this!” she gathered a positively huge amount of magika between her hands, forming a great glowing ball of healing energy. “The power of restoration COMPELS YOU!” she yelled and brought the sphere of restoration down onto Stross.

Colette fell to her knees and panted for breath as the orange glow slowly subsided. “There, you see. Restoration magic is totally a valid-“

“It didn’t work.”

“What?” Colette’s eyes shot open and she hastily looked over Stross again, finding that he was still as butchered and bleeding out as ever. So like any reasonable scholar, Colette began to think of why her magic had no effect, and find another way to heal this unfortunate, dying-

“You son of a whore!” Colette screamed as she grabbed Stross by the scruff of his neck and punched him in the mouth “I don’t care if you’re unconscious and dying; how dare you reject my healing?! Stupid bug, you made me look bad!”

*Smash*

Colette released her hold on Stross as her eyes rolled back into her skull and she stood ramrod stiff before comically falling over like a timbering tree.

“Well that’s one problem dealt with. Anyone else have any ideas?” Faralda asked, casually discarding the remains of the burial urn she smashed over her collegue’s head.

“I don’t get it. Stross always heals so fast even without potions, something about his changeling healing factor using energy he’s stored up to replace damaged body parts.” Fenora remembered “So why isn’t it healing him now? We literally just pumped him full of magic and potions.”

“It’s because it isn’t magic that heals him.” Brelyna chimed in “Magic does nearly nothing for him if it doesn’t come from someone’s heart and soul, if it’s empty. Potions are even worse, they only stimulate his body’s healing by drawing more energy from his own stores rather than actually giving anything to him.”

“Right, that makes sense.” Fenora nodded “Wait… how did you know that?”

“Stross told me. We stayed up all night talking... and I took notes.” Brelyna said shyly “Sorry, I probably should have told you this sooner, huh?”

Fenora was already gone.

“Sergius, do you have any souls gems? Full ones preferably.”

“Yes.” the enchanter grunted as he rummaged around in his pockets “You know, I’ve been going through quite a lot of these lately. I expect you’ll reimburse me somehow-“

“Yeah. Cool. Don’t care right now.” Fenora snipped as she snatched the pink gems from his hand and headed back to Stross. “Here Stross, these will help you.” she placed the soul gems in his mouth, just under his tongue. “… I hope.”

Not three seconds after the gems were in his mouth, Stross’s body began to heal itself. It was quite something to see really; the lung that had ruptured began melting into a gelatinous slime as a new one slowly started growing into the empty space to replace it, the shattered and broken latticework of many tiny bones crumbled away and started reconstructing themselves where they once were. Even with as much fluid that Stross had lost, a new batch of the ichor began flowing through his veins, albeit still spilling out of the still gaping wound.

All too soon though, it all stopped, leaving the changeling with a partially constructed lung and quite a few missing bones.

“Sergius, I need another.” Fenora held out her hand.

Sergius stared back.

Fenora fixed a hard glare on him and twitched her fingers expectantly, to which he simply raised an eyebrow and held his hand out as well, preforming the same motion.

Fenora stood up, knelt down, picked him up by his ankles and shook him upside-down until several large soul gems fell out. She roughly dropped him on the ground to his continued displeasure, picked up the gems and then dropped a bag of septims heavily on him stomach with a thwump.

She returned to where Stross lay, carefully picked the used soul gems from his mouth and replaced them with the newer, larger ones. His changeling body seemed to like the greater amounts of energy produced by the larger souls, as it quickly began mending again, and at a much faster rate.

Soon the entire wound had closed up, the bones pieced together, the damaged organ replaced, and the sub-dermal skeleton was scabbing over. Fenora had to hold the nearly severed arm and shoulder in place to make sure they healed in… about the right spot, but once that was done, the only trace Stross had ever have been injured at all was a thin line in his outer shell that was quickly fading as the imperfect bits of scale chipped and crumbled away to allow better ones to grow in.

His breathing returned to normal shortly after, though there was a soft gurgling as lingering blood sloshed around inside his newly formed lung. To Fenora’s dismay however, he did not wake, she even shook him slightly but he stayed comatose.

“Is… he going to be okay now?” Brelyna asked softly.

“Yeah…” Fenora said slowly remembering the last time Stross had fallen “Yeah, it always takes a while for him to wake up. He’s been through worse than this. He’ll be fine.” she spoke in a distant and hollow tone “He’ll be okay. He’s lived through worse. He’ll be okay. I’m… I’m just going to stay here with him for a while.”

Brelyna nodded and turned away, only to return a moment later with the crates of potions. She offered one to Fenora and sat atop the other. “Then I’ll stay here with you.” she said and scooted closer, resting her arms on the table near Stross’s head while Fenora gripped his hand in hers.

And so they sat there in silence, both of them prying that their changeling would be okay.

Meanwhile, the collection of mages consisting of Faralda, Mirabelle Ervine, Sergius Turrianus, Phinis Gestor were quite preoccupied by the giant glowing ball of runed stone that adorned the center of the chamber.

Tolfdir was especially sure that his injuries wouldn’t stand between him and such a momentous discovery, even as he broke his still healing leg three more times while hobbling over to the artifact.

“Just what is all the fuss about down here?” came a grumpy voice as they were joined by Arneil Gane, and Steve the recently glued together statue of unmentionability. “I thought I made it clear that we were to keep these ruins intact as much as possible, and yet you’ve ransacked the halls, broken down doors and… and… Steve, would you look at that.”

Like moths to a bug-zapper, the company of mages was drawn to the mysterious orb, their minds wandering at what it was and what it was used for.

“We should take this back with us.” Colette said as she tentatively placed a hand on the stone’s cool smooth surface.

“Indeed,” Faralda nodded “it’ll be much easier to study in the Hall of Elements.”

Tolfdir agreed as well and continued licking the sphere.

“Sure. Sure.” Mirabelle said sarcastically “And just how do you intend to move this thing? It must weigh, oh I don’t know… a metric butt-ton, maybe two.”

Phinis snapped his fingers and summoned the rock golem from before. “Get your friends Herb, I know what we’re gonna do today.”

Nightingales, we're like superheroes... or somethin'

Fenora stood there over Mercer Frey’s mutilated corpse as the temple around her rapidly filled with lake water. Karliah and the thieves were collecting themselves and trying to find a way out, the baker’s dozen falmer that survived the fight were scrambling and sloshing around in a panic. Stross was painfully crawling on the soaking ground trying to find where his severed arm went to as he bled heavily from the gashes in his stomach… and all Fenora could focus on was the Skeleton Key in her fingers.

It was almost hypnotizing, that gem-tipped piece of enchanted bronze. It was as though it filled something within her very being, something precious… something she couldn’t part with. It made her feel invincible, and made all the troubles of the world simply vanish and melt away. It wasn’t until Vex’s palm impacted with her face that she snapped out of her stupor and back to painful reality that she was made aware of how dire their situation was.

“I… wh-what’s going on?” she stammered.

“We are TRAPPED in here!” Vex screamed “The door’s collapsed on the other side, brynjolf is bleeding out, and we’re about to drown in this damn place! Do something!”

“Hey guys, great news!” Stross chimed in as the water in the chamber rose up to their waists “I found my missing arm!”

“Oh that’s fan-flipping-tastic ya dumb bug.”

“Hold on a second,” Fenora silenced them “I’ve got this.”

She looked around them and at the water slowly spelling out their doom as it flooded in through the pipes and the massive hole in the roof that led to the lake above. In a stead and cold tone, she spoke in dovah.

“Lom.. kreh ahrk diin. Wahl ven wah lok, ahrk morkon ni un filok.”

(Water... bend and freeze. Build a path to the sky, and hinder not our escape.)

When the words resonated through the chamber, the water froze; not turning to ice however, it simply stopped moving, staying perfectly still save for a few innocent quivers as the last of Fenora’s thu’um rang out. Then a torrent of water spiraled upwards until it reached the shattered dome, a ripple came back down once it reached its destination, turning its slick and fluid surface into a hard and rigid staircase.

“Let’s go.” Fenora said firmly and led them on.

…

Stross could feel something different about his love-interest as their party climbed the unnervingly solid water-stairs. Not only was her aura blazingly more powerful than before, but there was something chilling about it… something terribly wrong.

It was reflected in the way she acted as they made their ascent. Fenora was always one to take care of business first and not let anything get in the way of her goal, Stross knew this and admired her for it. But now their mission was over; Mercer had been brutally killed until he was deader than dead, they got the skeleton key beck, and even managed to snag the eyes of the falmer on the way out.

The only thing standing between them and calling this a resounding success was getting out alive (and quite a few dead minions, but maybe that was just his opinion). Yet Fenora still seemed so angry and distant. She didn’t make sure everyone was alright before leading on, she responded harshly to their concerns, and never even bothered to look back to make sure they hadn’t fallen.

Even now she had moved quite far ahead of her wounded companions, her eyes ever forward.

“What’s going on with you Fen?” Stross wondered aloud, hoping despite his intuition that it was only a passing thing.

Once they reached the surface of the lake from the tunnel of jellified water, and then walked/dragged themselves across a water bridge to dry land, the thieves were finally able to get a breather.

While they tended to their wounds, Stross walked over to where Fenora had left them for, standing perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking a valley full of trees and wildlife as the sun slowly set on the horizon. She stood there unmoving and contemplative, gazing out with her amber eyes as the breeze swept through her hair and soaking wet armor.

“Fen, are you alright?” Stross asked as he walked over to her side.

“Uh huh.” Fenora hummed, not bothering to look his way for more than a split-second.

“Yeah… I think I’ll be okay too, in case you were wondering.” Stross ran a hand over the spots where he was impaled “Changelings are pretty tough when we’re well fed, this should heal in no time. And this thing with my arm… I should be able to fuse it back on and then let it sort itself out once I’ve gotten it lined up the right way.”

Once again, Fenora simply gave a shallow grunt in response.

“So… vengeance tastes pretty good huh? I just wish I could have helped more.” Stross rubbed the back of his neck “And maybe save all those falmer. You know, they’re really not so bad when-“

“Stross!” Fenora snapped at him “Shut up so I can think damn you!”

Stross flinched and backed off. “Okay... sorry I asked.” He said, trying to put his severed arm on the right way.

Fenora averted her eyes and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry.” She said, genuine feeling buried somewhere underneath frustration “Mercer is dead now, but we still don’t know what he did with that stupid horn. I'm trying to think but I've got this damned headache now that's splitting my skull open.”

“Do you think there was anyone else who knew what he did with it?” Stross asked, hoping some new leads might lighten Fenora’s mood.

“There may be one who still knows.” Came a voice behind them.

They turned around to see Karliah had appeared behind them out of nowhere again.

“Nocturnal.”

It was obvious that they needed to return to Riften as quickly as possible; from there they could contact Nocturnal and reach the Twilight Sepulcher. Fenora was ready to just grab Karliah and bolt, but Stross refused to leave his remaining minions, and insisted that they wait for the thieves to catch up as well. Walking over to them, they found the thieves in a heated argument over several large carts, throwing accusations at one another while the falmer cowered behind several large trees.

“You mean the whole time we were fighting for our lives, you were back there dragging out chunks of rock!?” Vex yelled furiously at Delvin, who had reappeared after his absence in the ruins and during the fight with Mercer.

“Well… yeah. But I wouldn’t ‘ave been any help in a fight anyway. And someone’s got to pick the guild up after all that coin Mercer took.” Delvin nervously gave his excuses.

“What are you idiots fighting about now?” Fenora asked- er… demanded as she stomped over.

“Delvin here ditched us for some shiny rocks.” Vex jabbed her thumb at Delvin and the carts behind him.

Looking closer, Stross realized that the carts contained the night-sky looking rocks from the ceiling they first saw in the falmer territory. It had been broken and pulled down in huge chunks that were now piled high onto the carts, and then covered up with tarps to keep them from falling off.

“I was gonna plaster them onto the ceiling of the Flaggon cistern. Won’t that look something incredible?” Delvin asked.

“The only thing incredible here is your stupidity.” Vex commented.

“Enough. You can come back for those later, right now we’re heading home.” Fenora told them.

The thieves were about to go back to where they left their horses in the hopes that they hadn’t gotten bored and wandered off, but Fenora had no patience for that.

She focused hard on Riften and nothing else, calling on her newfound mastery of the voice once again.

“Vos dii zul kren zeim ginun, bo ireid kriist us. Drun zey til!”

(Let my voice break through space, move aside all standing before. Bring me there!)

Her thu’um echoed once before vanishing into nothing. Then the air rippled before them, and the ripples grew until space tore in front of them, opening a rift through space with the city of Riften visible on the other side.

Fenora stepped though without delay and beckoned for the rest of them to follow.

Stross was the first to follow through, noting how the scenery instantly and seamlessly changed from one area to the next. “Whoa.” He whispered breathlessly and looked all around him, while Vex came through as well, dragging a still unconscious Brynjolf.

“Trippin’ right?” Maul asked as he and the others walked through.

“I might be havin’ a relapse of something right now, skooma, maybe sleeping tree sap.” Dirge agreed.

“This is incredible.” Delvin said and poked at the edges of the portal that were not even the width of a fingernail.

Suddenly the portal flickered and shook, clearly becoming unstable.

“Oh snap! Hurry my minions, to me!” Stoss called, to which the falmer quickly scampered over, pushing and shoving through the portal to sit at the feet of their master.

Not two seconds later, the portal flickered again before shimmering out of existence, and Stross began a quick count of the falmer. “… seven eight, nine and ten… Larry, Moe, and Curly. Okay they’re all here.”

“That was certainly convenient. Now then, Fenora will come with me so we can return the skeleton key to the Twilight Sepulcher, the rest of you should go back to the Flaggon and properly tend to your wounds.” Karliah told them and began walking towards the mountains away from the city.

The thieves had no complaints, save for Delvin still planning on going back for his rocks, and they limped their way into the city.

Stross meanwhile thought it would be as good a time as any to fix his arm. He positioned it over the bleeding stump and prepared for the inevitable pain that would come as the bones fused back together.

“Gah!” *Snap**Crunch* “Ooh, yeah that hurts like crazy.” Stross mouthed as he tried to get the muscles to line up right and then solder his shell back together in the right places.

*Snap**Crackle**POP!*

“Gah-hah-ah, Okay… there we go. That looks right-ish... sort of.” Stross said and inspected his freshly fixed and slightly melted arm. “Hey Fenora, does this look right to you?”

After a few second without a response, Stross just decided to move on. “Okay then, be like that.” he muttered.

However, he couldn’t bring himself to take more than a few steps without receiving some kind of acknowledgement that he still existed. When we looked back over his shoulder, he saw Fenora still standing in the same spot. So he walked back over to her, and noticed she was barely moving at all; her breathing was shallow and she swayed uneasily back and forth.

“Fenora… are you alright?” Stross asked gently as he circled around.

To his dismay, he saw her eyes were glazed over, and a drop of blood was running from her nose into her mouth.

“Fenora! Your nose is bleeding.” He grabbed hold of her shoulders in hopes that she would respond.

Her eyes lazily drifted downwards until they focused on him. Fenora opened her mouth and sucked in a breath of air, and Stross leant closer to hear what she needed. But instead of words, all that came out of her mouth was blood. She coughed and a mouthful spattered onto Stross’s face. She heaved once more and a buckets’ worth of the sticky red gunk covered the ground at her feet before she fell forward into Stross’s arms.

“FENORA!” Stross screamed in panic as he quickly put up a healing spell to try and stabilize her “Hold on, okay? Just hold on. Minions, go get the guards to help!”

Blood seeped out of Fenora’s eyes, ears, and nose as she lay there as unresponsive as a corpse. Her breathing looked pained, and her heart was beating out of her chest. Stross remained by her side and kept pouring his healing waves into her, but with the amount of blood she was coughing up she must have taken some brutal internal injuries.

Stross thought back to when she could have taken that kind of damage. Was it during the fight with Mercer? Had he hit her with something to put her in this condition? Maybe that had something to do with why she was acting so cold and angry. Stross clenched his fangs. Mercer hadn’t died slow enough in his opinion.

A few moments later the falmer returned, dragging a few rift guards by their ankles kicking and screaming for mercy.

“Finally! Good work guys.” Stross dismiss the falmer “Guardsmen, I need a bed and a lot of healing potions, stat! Karliah, help me move her.”

One of the Riften guards scowled underneath him helmet once the falmer released him. “I didn’t sign up for this shi-“

“You. Are. A. Guard! This is exactly the kind of stuff you signed up for!”

With a bit of much needed “Help” from what Riften called guards, they had managed to get Fenora into a room at the Bee and Barb. The falmer also got their own rooms to stay in until their master had business elsewhere, much to the annoyance of the Argonian owner Keerava.

With the aid of some healing potions and a few potions of regeneration, along with his own healing magic, Stross was finally able to stop Fenora’s excessive internal bleeding. But things were still up in the air on whether she’d recover, or how long it would take.

Stross was currently kneeling next to her bed. He put his one hand on Fenora’s chest as she lay there, always afraid her heart would stop beating again. She moaned in pain every few seconds and her breath was still jumpy, but Stross considered it an improvement over what she was like just an hour ago. Still, it pained him to see her in this condition.

“I realize this is a bad time for you, but we must return the key to Nocturnal.” Karliah told him, having already waited as long as she dared to, now that the Skeleton Key was now in their possession.

“Then take it.” Stross said, holding out the tightly bound cloth that held the key.

“I would, but…”

“But?”

“But I fear after Mercer’s betrayal that Nocturnal might reject me should I return to her, even to give back the key.” Karliah said, averting her eyes “I am ashamed to admit this foolish fear, but I dare not take a chance, not when I am so close to restoring mine and Gallus’s honor, along with redeeming the Guild in Nocturnal’s eyes.”

Stross let out a sigh. “Okay. Just give me a few more minutes, I’ll meet you outside.”

Karliah nodded and left them.

When the muffled footsteps beyond to closed door finally vanished, Stross turned back to Fenora, lying asleep in fits of pain. He carefully slid his arm under her neck while holding one of her hands in his other, bending over to hold her close to him while releasing a bit of his changeling magic to alter her state of mind. Not anything bad, just something to give her more feel-good feelings in order to combat the pain a bit.

Fenora’s breathing relaxed a bit along with the rest of her body with the soothing aura doing its work, and Stross managed to smile at this. He took a few more moments to focus a healing spell that he hoped would linger a while and keep her from getting any worse in his absence. With a final kiss on her forehead, he then left as silently as he could.

He motioned for two of the falmer to guard her room until he returned, and ordered them to not let anyone else in. Having done all he could, Stross left the city, clutching the Skeleton Key tightly in his hand.

“How much farther is this place?” Stross whined as he and Karliah walked through the woods for what seemed like an hour.

“We’re almost there.” Karliah assured him “We must take steps in order to prepare for our meeting with Nocturnal. The first of these steps is in Nightingale Hall, the place where new initiates into the Nightingales are brought to first don their armor and strike their pact with Nocturnal.”

“No wonder it’s so far out here, gotta keep a place like that secret.” Stross thought aloud.

“Indeed, for it to remain hidden from those unworthy is of utmost importance, for our sake and for Nocturnal’s.” Karliah validated “Ah here it is. It is a good thing we made this giant monolith to mark the location of the entrance.”

Stross looked up and saw the giant rock slab in question, literally marked with the words [Nightingale Hall], with a crude etching below that read “But don’t tell anyone”.

Karliah then proceeded through the very obvious and visible entrance, beckoning for him to follow.

Stross felt his eye twitch, but followed anyway.

The structure of Nightingale Hall had been carved into the mountainside, and so was made completely of stone. The air was musty, and Stross could hear the sounds of a river rushing deeper within the cave. As the two of them walked, Karliah lit a few old braziers to light their way.

“So, is this where we’ll give Nocturnal the key?” Stross asked.

“No, this is where I contact Nocturnal, and beg forgiveness before we head to the Twilight Sepulcher. But before that, I need you to look the part of a Nightingale.” Karliah motioned to a set of stone blocks inscribed with Nocturnal’s emblem, under tattered banners bearing the same mark.

Stross walked up to one of the blocks that came up to about chest height for him. He looked it over questioningly and brushed a thick layer of dust of the top.

“Nocturnal, mistress of dark, cloak me in your shadows.” He heard Karliah whisper behind him.

“Nocturnal…” he began and felt a tingle in his hands as he placed them upon the stone “mistress of dark, cloak me in your shadows.”

The tingling spread up through his arms. A shadow crept up over his shoulders and down his legs, finally consuming his head and obscuring his vision for a sparse moment before everything returned to normal.

Stross felt around himself to find he was now clothed from head to claws in a pitch-black garb that resembled shifting shadows. He also noted how light it was, and how it made nearly no noise when he moved; no ruffling of cloth, no flapping of material from the cape, not even a patter from his footsteps.

“Oh this is so cool! I feel like I’m batmare!”

“Hmm, you are a bit short for a stormtroo- I mean Nightingale, but it will work.” Karliah commented, now wearing the same armor as well.

“Now then, follow me.”

Karliah led the way into a cavern with a large circular platform surrounded by water. Moss grew into the etched emblem on the stone, and a faint light came from somewhere below the water’s surface, shimmering to the surface and casting an eerie glow on the mist. She walked slowly to the edge of the platform and took one step further. Stross though she would fall into the water below, but instead, some invisible path caught her foot and a stone column rose from the depths to meet her at the end. She then turned back to face the center, and dropped to her knees in prayer to recite Nocturnal’s oath.

“In brightest day, in blackest night

Let our actions evade all sight

May all shiny things we wish to pluck

Fall into our fingers, with Nocturnal’s luck.”

“I call upon you Lady Nocturnal, I call to you so I may right my failure.” Karliah spoke in a soft whisper, yet it resonated throughout the entire chamber “Please… hear my voice.”

A few seconds passed in silence, and then a dark sphere materialized on the central pillar. It swirled and pulsed with an unworldly power that seemed to draw all the light away.

“Ah, Karliah. I was wondering when I would hear from you again.” A woman’s distorted voice spoke from within the sphere of dark “It has been so very long. Twenty-five years and you never even bothered to call and say hi.”

“My lady, you must understand, I-“ Karliah began but was swiftly cut off.

“Understand? Oh I understand just fine girl-friend! You thought that just because you were busy hunting down that cheating Mercer boy, that it was okay to leave me high and dry. Some friend you are!” Nocturnal huffed.

“Nocturnal please, I simply-“

“I mean do you know what it’s like being stuck here in Evergloam with nothing to do?! Honestly, just watching you mortals run around is no fun! I used to be able to interact with my little thieves, affect their fortunes and fates, but now all I can do is sit here and watch! And there’s no-one to talk to, and my Nightingale spirits are bugging out, no-one accepts my friend requests, and I’m sooooo boooored, and-“

“But I’ve got the Skeleton Key back!” Karliah yelled, interrupting Nocturnal’s complaining “Mercer is dead, and we’ve come to return it to you.”

“Oh…” the sphere was silent and still for a second “Well why didn’t you just say so? Get over here gurl, and gimme a hug.”

Suddenly the sphere collapsed, and in its place a portal opened abruptly, and a pair of shadowy hands grabbed the two of them and pulled them through.

“Bestest friends again!” Nocturnal sing-songed while Stross flailed and screamed like a filly.

When the swirling vortex around them dispersed and the shadowy hands released them, Stross and Karliah found themselves inside another dark and gloomy cave, though this one was much larger, and its floor much harder. Or at least that’s what it felt like when they landed face first on it.

“Oh geez, I wish she’d given us some warning before doing that crazy stuff.” Stross said as he came back down from hyperventilating.

“She did seem quite happy to see us.” Karliah admitted “Unexpected really, perhaps this will go better than I thought it would. And it seems as though she’s brought us to the Twilight Sepulcher, let us not delay any further.”

And so the two of them quickly made for the large entrance archway, but as they were approaching, a new obstacle materialized in front of them.

“WAHHH! Ghost!” Stross screamed at the transparent blue figure before them.

Wasting no time, Stross threw a fireball at the phantom, only for it to pass straight through the ghost’s head, which reformed from a ghostly mist in less than a second.

“Oh noes! Ghosty not go toasty!” the changeling panicked and hid behind Karliah “Protect me shield!”

“Uhh… who goes there?” the specter asked, not making even the slightest aggressive motion, opting to simply stand there and be a Nightingale ghost “I sense you are of our order, yet I am weakened, and cannot see you clearly; everything seems to be in a haze for me. Could you come a bit closer?”

“Wait… I recognize that voice, distorted as it is.” Karliah said and stepped forward towards the ghostly Nightingale slowly fading in and out “G-Gallus? Is that you?”

“Gallus?” The spirit perked up a bit “That is a name I haven’t heard in a long time, I’d nearly forgotten it myself. How is it you know me?”

“Gallus my love, it’s me, Karliah. I’ve finally come back.” Karliah said as she held onto Gallus’s corporeal form for whatever it would support “I am so sorry for all of this, had I not been so blind, you may have survived.”

“No, please don’t cry. It was my folly as well.” Gallus tried to wipe the tears away from Karliah’s face, only for his hand to become mist upon contact. Regardless, he continued. “I am just glad that you were not another victim of Mercer’s vile schemes.”

“That traitor is dead now my love, the key is ours once again, and we may finally return it.”

Karliah broke away from Gallus’s spectral embrace and started to make her way into the Sepulcher, but Gallus quickly floated in front to stop her. “Wait Karliah, I must warn you of the dangers ahead! It’s the others… when Mercer took the Skeleton Key it severed the connection with Evergloam, and the other Nightingale spirits that guard this place have… changed.”

“Changed?”

“Indeed, they’ve lost their minds. It’s as though they can no longer see or hear, only feel life that they will seek to extinguish. They will attack any who enter.” Gallus explained “I was lucky enough to die after the key was stolen, manifesting without a tie to Noctural’s realm to be severed. Still, I feel my presence waning even now.”

“Then we must hurry.” Karliah said, more determined than ever “Stross, bring that key and stay right behind me. We’re going in quiet.”

“Do you even know what quiet means!?” Karliah yelled at Stross as the three of them ran for their lives away from at least five blood-thirsty ghosts.

“I thought it couldn’t see me! I couldn’t see it!” Stross defended as he ducked under a volley of arrows and into another corridor.

“That’s because you were facing into a wall, friend. They could still see you plain as day.” Gallus explained as he casually floated behind them.

After dodging a few swinging axe traps and slamming a few doors closed behind them, Stross, Karliah and Gallus finally lost their pursuers. They now found themselves in a room shrouded in pitch blackness, save for several orbs of light that shone like small suns upon the stone stairs and walkways.

“It’s so dark in here, what is this place?” Stross asked and stepped forward a bit.

“This is the beginning of the Pilgrims’ Path, a set of trials created by the priests of Nocturnal to test the worthiness of any who would dare to gaze upon her.” Gallus explained “I always found it rather silly, but they still exist. This is the first trial; above all they stand, vigilance everlasting. Beholden to the murk yet contentious of the glow.”

“You always loved your riddles didn’t you Gallus?” Karliah smirked “It means stay in the shadows and don’t let the light touch you, like any good thief knows well.”

“Oh, but it’s so pretty and bright.” Stross droned, hovering off the ground a bit with his eyes firmly locked on the glowing orb nearest him “I just want to fly straight into it like a fly to a bug zapper and- Wait! NO! Must… resist… basic… instinct. I will survive! I will- okay maybe just one lick.”

Karliah and Gallus just stood there dumbfounded while Stross caught on fire and started screaming about natural selection betraying him.

“The second trial, we’re nearly there.” Karliah said once they’d entered the next room after much screaming and burning from one third of their party.

Before them stood a statue of Nocturnal, brightly lit on all sides by braziers with white flames. A decomposing body lay at the feet of said statue next to a plaque that read [Offer what She desires most, but reject the material. For her greatest want is that which cannot be seen, felt or carried]. Around the base of the statue were various objects and trinkets ranging from coins of gold, bottles of wine, soul gems and even splatters of blood that had long since dried.

“Fools,” Karliah muttered “They tried giving her coin, but she does not help us gain wealth because she desires it. Nor does she desire flesh, blood or death. Nocturnal’s greatest want would not be anything so crass or material.”

“Then what does she want?” Stross asked after rubbing yet another bottle of aloe vera on his scales.

Karliah smirked and Gallus watched with pride as she walked to a well hidden pull-chain next to one of the torches. With a firm tug and a rattling of metal, the braziers extinguished, plunging the room into pitch blackness.

“Darkness.” Karliah spoke as a door opened behind the statue.

“Are you sure it isn’t entertainment she wants?” Stross scratched his head before following the other Nightingales into the dark.

Shalidor's maze part 2: the khajiit, the nord, and the dunmer

Luna leapt from the deck of the ship, pumping her wings with Barbas tucked securely under her arm, feeling the cold air on her face as a storm brewed in the distance. She landed, and her feet sank into the murky coast. She looked around as the rest of the crew disembarked from the ship, and saw nothing but grey rock, sand, and dead trees.

“Art thou sure this is the place?” she asked Barbas.

“Sure as I am seasick.” He answered and passed her a piece of parchment with his mouth “The outpost is right over there, the map says so.”

Luna unfurled the ancient map and looked it over, when suddenly a skull and crossbones came to life from its ink and began speaking to them. “Yeesss, the treasure of the spirit’s vein rests within the stronghold." It told them, slowly fading away "But be wary, for you must retrieve it before sunset…sunset…sunset…SUNSET!”

Luna tucked it away and walked forward onto dryer land, motioning for the rest of the pirate crew to follow. She could not see the sun through the thick clouds, but she reckoned they didn’t have much time. Taking to the skies, Luna quickly spotted the old crumbling building they had all sought after; not only did it hold the treasure for the pirates with whom she traveled with, but also the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller her friends so desperately needed.

She touched down at the destroyed gates of the small fortress, shooting a magic flare into the sky to signal the pirates that she had found it.

Without another thought, she set Barbas on the ground and barged straight into the courtyard, ready for a fight. But instead she was met with a scene of carnage.

The orcs that had stolen the Horn from the merchants, prolonging her journey, lay slaughtered and strewn about the ground and battlements. Many were hung by thick iron chains, left to dangle for scavengers, or skewered on pikes and pinned to the weathered stone.

Luna held her breath and her lunch, and turned to Barbas. “Canine, aid me in searching for the horn.” She told him.

“Ey, my sense of smell is like a billion times better than yours, you have any idea what this is like for me?” he complained, but got to work combing over the bodies anyway.

Luna recognized the chieftain of the tribe displayed in the center of it all, propped up on an old well, his heart ripped out through his chest and placed in his hand.

“Well… that must have been dis-heart-ening for him.” Barbas quipped, but quickly went back to searching when Luna glared at him.

The Princess sighed and looked at the pain filled expression locked on her enemy’s face. “Kra-zog. All this trouble you caused us, all that ambition and reckless greed. The people whose lives you pillaged… only to have it all end here.” she shook her head.

It was then that she heard a ruckus, and turned to see her sea-going companions arrive through the gates.

Sercie, the captain’s first mate let out a low whistle as she surveyed the bodies littering the area. “Well Princess, I see you don’t mess around.”

“T’was not I who did this, matey. Their end was brought by another.” Luna told her.

“Whatever, let’s grab their stuff!” another of the pirates interrupted as he and the others began looting everything they could from the bodies.

Luna suddenly got an ominous feeling. Barbas made eye contact and gave a nod, letting her know he felt it too.

“Make haste with thy plundering, we mustn’t linger here.” Luna warned them.

“Why?” one of the pirates questioned as he stripped a bloody vest off one of the orcs “These louts are dead as can- hurk!“

He was cut off as a broken bone passed through his windpipe. His last sight before he drowned in his own blood was of the headless orc rising up, and a skeletal beast bursting from its flesh to charge at the Princess.

Luna blasted the skeletal monstrosity away with a yell of vengeance, sending its giblets of skin and bone everywhere.

Barely a second later an earsplitting screech came from everywhere at once came as the corpses of the orcs lurched upwards, unpinning themselves from the walls, with more of the skeletal beasts pulling themselves from the depths of the well.

The remaining pirates formed a circle and drew their cutlasses and flintlocks, the Captain took up position next to Luna.

“Ya-harr! Yarr.” He growled.

“Well lass, looks like we’re in for a fight! Hope yer prepared.” Barbas translated.

“Indeed!” Luna shouted and conjured her moonlight spear “I do hope Stross and Fenora are faring better.”

“I am not doing okay!” Stross shrieked as yet another ball of ice pummeled him in the face “The only way I’ll get out of this alive… is if I don’t get killed!”

Reaching the end of the corridor, he started frantically banging on the gate at the end as more giant snowballs pelted his back. He kicked and hit it with fire, but to no avail. He just wanted to get away from those dang soul gem powered bringers of frozen misery.

“Wait a minute… soul gems!” Stross said as a brilliant thought struck him like a giant ball of ice to the back of the head.

And then a giant ball of ice struck him in the back of the head. But he managed to shrug it off, and fired a blast of fire at each of the pillars housing a soul gem.

The resulting explosions were enough to knock the gems out of their casings, and with nothing to power the spell matrix, the barrage of coldness finally stopped, and the gate in front of him opened.

The changeling breathed a shivering sigh of relief and continued onward through the winding walls.

As he rubbed his arms to try and warm himself, Stross found himself faced with yet another challenge in the next open room; a gate was locked, with a piece of lead in the shape of a heart acting as the lock. Above it was the inscription, [If your heart is not made of gold, then make it so. There is no reason you can't.].

Stross thought on it for a while. “Heart of gold… what does that mean? I’m sure it has something to do with this metal heart, but… what exactly?”

As he was thinking on it, a wall slid open behind him. Stross whipped around with a fireball ready, expecting a trap of some kind, but to his surprise J’zargo sat there, propped against the wall of the maze near a small empty alcove.

“J’zargo!” Stross called and rushed over to his side “J’zargo, you okay?”

Thought there seemed to be nothing wrong with him, and he was steadily breathing, J’zargo didn’t respond. So naturally, Stross tried channeling some healing magic his way in an attempt to wake him up.

Then he resorted to vigorous shaking. And when that failed, he turned to slapping.

The changeling grunted in frustration, “Why won’t you wake up!?” It was then that he noticed the lingering magic on the khajiit’s body, illusion magic like his disguises, but much more powerful.

He got an idea, and placed his palm on J’zargo’s forehead “Hang in there buddy, I’m going to try something.” Stross closed his eyes and concentrated on the magic surrounding his fellow mage. Dispelling it would be like stripping away his own illusions and mind influence; maybe a little tougher, but it would be simple… right?

The second he tried, the world went black and he fell to the floor, not feeling his head hit the stone.

Stross’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he noticed was the heat. The second thing he noticed was the sand in his eyes. And the third thing he noti-

“AH MY EYES! There’s sand in my eyes! It hurts so bad! Make it stop!”

Uh… yes, as I was saying. The third thing Stross noticed were the tall buildings of white stone towering over his head, nearly blocking out the clear blue sky and the blazing sun overhead. Bringing his gaze slowly downwards, he saw the scenery slowly transition to a busy market full of khajiit merchants, each peddling their wares.

“Where am I?” Stross asked to no one in particular as he walked by a few of the stalls, the setups reminding him of Ri’saad and his caravan. “Hey!” he waved to a nearby vendor “Can you tell me where this is?”

The merchant didn’t answer him, or even take notice of his presence, opting to continue staring forward into space. But before he could be confused or offended, something else drew Stross’s attention.

“Look friends! J’zargo has finally done it!” came a small excited voice from an alleyway.

Stross peeked around the corner and found a group of five young khajiit in ragged clothes, all gathered around a sixth. They seemed disinterested, giving their attention to the small boy and his pile of stones only out of boredom.

“J’zargo has finally done it. Just watch!” he said and held his hands out over the ring of rocks.

A burst of sparks flew out of his fingertips, but nothing changed with the rocks. Some of the others yawned, and one scoffed at the failed attempt.

“Give it up runt. You’ve never cast a spell right.” the oldest one sneered.

“B-but… J’zargo did it right just this morning, honest. Just look!” J’zargo pulled a piece of gold out of his pocket; no larger than a pebble, yet it drew the eyes of all the others.

“Give it here!” the oldest immediately ordered, advancing on J’zargo with his hand outstretched.

J’zargo happily handed it over, his face lighting up when he saw the others smile.

“Come on guys, now we can buy some food!” the eldest held the gold rock up high, and the others cheered.

The world rippled around that moment as it stood there frozen in time, fading away into another.

…

This time Stross found himself in a barren building. It was dark and cool, the smell of dusty fabric permeated the air. Three of the boys from before sat on the floor with their arms crossed, scowling.

Then the door was kicked open, its wooden frame creaking from the force. In stepped the other two young khajiit, holding a bag between them with something squirming within.

They dumped the bag on the floor between them all and emptied it out. J’zargo spilled out, bound and gagged with a gash on his forehead.

The oldest boy stepped forward and kicked him in the stomach. “Five months.” He growled “Five months we had to rot in that cell because you gave us a painted rock. What do you have to say for yourself, you curse?!”

“M’m fhawwy!” J’zargo tried to scream an apology around the sock in his mouth.

“What’s that? You’re sorry? Well you should have thought of that before you got. Us. Jailed!” the eldest punctuated his words with more kicks. “We’re lucky they didn’t gut us! You think you’re a mage? You think you’ll ever be a great wizard?” he sneered “Magic your way out of this. Mess him up boys.”

The other four khajiit got up and cracked their knuckles.

“NO! Get away from him!” Stross yelled and tried to step between them like a shield. But the boys passed right through him like ghosts and began whaling on their helpless former friend.

“Stop it! He doesn’t deserve this!” Stross yelled and threw himself over J’zargo’s body as he grunted and screamed muffled cries for mercy.

The onslaught went right through him as the world rippled again.

…

A sort of hospital surrounded them now. White cloth hung from the ceilings like walls between the simple beds, and at the one nearest where Stross stood was J’zargo, a small khajiit covered from head to toe in bloody bandages. His breathing was erratic and jumpy, but he was alive and conscious.

“St-Stross?” he gasped out, gaining the changeling’s attention.

“J’zargo, you can see me?” Stross knelt down next to the bedside.

J’zargo sighed. “Yes, but I wish you could not see me. Not like this; so weak, helpless, powerless and small.” He said, looking himself over in disgust.

“What happened? Who were those guys beating you up?” Stross asked as sympathetically as he could.

J’zargo paused for a moment, but finally answered. “They were the closest thing I had to a family in Elsweyr. They were like brothers, as mean as they were. They let J’zargo live with them in their abandoned store, and they shared their food and clothes. J’zargo only wanted to repay them for their kindness, so much that he lied to them.

“It was that day when they beat J’zargo and left him to die that J’zargo decided that he would never be picked on again. That he would learn magic and become a great mage. He would declare it to all the world! He would never be weaker than anyone ever again.”

Stross sat there in silence, wishing there was something he could say to make it all better.

“I envy you Stross.” J’zargo spoke up again “J’zargo sees and hears of your power and skill, and J’zargo wishes he could be just like you. Your will to push forward and fight against the impossible astounds J’zargo, fighting dragons and monsters… how do you do it?”

“I’m not as great as you think.” Stross told him “Everything you’ve seen me do was done on borrowed power. I was expending my life force casting those spells; saving Fen from death, killing that ancient draugr…”

“Is that the secret to becoming a great mage; doing whatever it takes to gain power, even sacrificing your own life?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Stross yelled.

“Then what?”

"They say friends make you more powerful, but for me it's literal. Their life force give me strength." Stross brought his eyes to the floor. “I did everything it did because I felt like there was no other way to protect them. I hate to admit it, but I get reckless and stupid when people I care about are in danger. But I mean... wouldn’t you do anything to protect the people you love?”

“J’zargo… I, have never allowed myself to care for another since that day. I do not wish to be hurt like that ever again.” J’zargo told him.

Stross put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile. “Hey, I know what it feels like. Believe me I do. But you can’t shut yourself away and deny everyone before they even get a chance. I tried that once, I nearly starved to death.”

J’zargo gave him an odd look, but Stross continued.

“What I’m saying is, there will always be those who will hurt you, but they shouldn’t deter you from letting others into your life. Having someone to live for, friends who will stand by your side… becoming great on your own feels good, like you’ve accomplished something. But rising to greatness with your best friends by your side? That’s one of the best feelings in the world.”

J’zargo sniffed a bit and wiped the tears out of the eye not covered in bandages. “But J’zargo does not have friends like you speak of.”

“The buck are you talking about? Of course you do! They’re trapped in this maze, and they need our help. They need your help.” Stross stood up and offered J’zargo a hand “So are you ready to go?”

J’zargo looked at Stross’s hand and cautiously placed his own small paw in it.

Stross pulled him up, the world fizzling and dispelling around them as the memory illusion was broken.

“Yes. J’zargo is ready to save his friends.”

The two of them walked over to the door with the lead heart. J’zargo read the inscription and confidently placed his hands on the latch. Sparks flew out of his hands, reaching a blinding intensity. When he removed his hands the heart was now solid gold, and the door slid open.

J’zargo turned to Stross and smiled. “Lead the way, friend. J'zargo has a good feeling about this.” he said before suddenly vanishing into a bright blue flash of light.

"J-J'zargo?" Stross stuttered, looking around for where he could have possibly gone.

He was left without any kind of an answer.

"You've got to be... Kitten me."

Youtube Video

Stross found himself on a misty trail, dirt and weeds populating most of the ground. He looked around only to find more thick fog covering the land.

After J’zargo had vanished, Stross had rushed ahead through the maze, hoping to find him again somewhere else, but instead he found Onmund lying face down on the floor ahead, his bag of minor alchemy reagents had spilled out in front of him. Further investigation revealed that he was under the same kind of sleep spell, and so Stross braced himself to awaken another friend. Now he was here.

“Hello!?” he called, hoping someone would hear.

To his relief, the fog began to part behind him, allowing him to see the cozy cabin house sitting behind it. It was a bit larger than what you’d expect from a building in the middle of the hills, but far from being a mansion or estate. It was made of wood and stone with a thatched roof, giving it the same homey feel the houses of most ponies would.

Stross walked past the small gardens up front, and up the steps that creaked under the weight of his feet. He knocked on the door, but there was no response.

Frowning, he knocked again, harder this time. There was still no answer.

Stross’s curiosity got the better of him and he decided to take a closer look inside, and he slowly crept over to a nearby window.

Flickering light from the fireplace and candles inside illuminated the scene before him. Inside the house were six people; an elderly woman sat in her rocking chair beside the fireplace, while four children, each no older than eight gathered in a circle, coloring on scraps of paper and humming to themselves. In the light shining through the door leading to the kitchen, Stross could see a younger woman chopping vegetables into a large metal pot.

“This seems peaceful, but what does this have to do with Onmund?” Stross wondered, and was about to move on.

But before he could, there was a muffled shout and a sound of a great many things falling. Suddenly a trapdoor burst open, and a large muscular nord man stomped up the stairs, a scowl on his beard-covered face and a thick tome clenched in his hand.

“Da! Da wait- don’t!” Onmund yelled after him as he scrambled up the stairs.

His father paid no heed, walking past the children and their drawings, and moving the old woman aside to throw the book straight into the fireplace.

“NO!” Onmund dove forward and pulled the book out of the flames as they roared to life around the pages. He started frantically brushing away the fire and patting out the embers with his bare hands, even as they burned.

His father stomped over and forcefully pulled him away from the burning book. “Enough son!” he yelled. “What have I told you about practicing that filthy magic in this house!?”

“What’s going on?” the woman from the kitchen came to see what had caused the commotion.

“Dear, get mum and the children. Take them to the other room while I deal with this.” Onmund’s father ordered.

His mother simply nodded and gathered his four younger siblings along with his grandmother, and quietly moved off to another room, shutting the door behind them.

“Da, I was just reading it this time!” Onmund told him “What’s wrong with just reading?”

“’Just reading’ my big toe!” his father shouted “I saw you drawing those circles out of bone dust! Chanting those incantations! Those words are the work of daedra, from the plane of Oblivion! Do you want to bring those monsters into our home? To have them drag your family to burn? Would you have your own brothers and sisters butchered by that magic of yours!?”

The man took a moment to calm himself and catch his breath. “Why couldn’t ya just learn to be a proper nord like the rest of th’ family? Yer grandad was a honored soldier, and his father was a famous folk hero! I would have been an adventurer… but then I-“

“Took an arrow in the knee?” Onmund cut him off.

His father looked him in the eye and slapped him. “I gave it up to raise a family. And for the last time, I won’t have any son of mine practice that infernal craft under my roof!”

“Fine then!” Onmund snapped and scooped up the smoldering remains of his book. “Then I’ll go to Skyrim! To the College of Winterhold! I don’t need you to hold me back, or tell me how to live my life!” he yelled and stomped out the door.

“Then go! But we won’t be here when you come crawling back.” His father told Onmund as he walked down the pavement, slamming the door behind him to further his point.

Onmund didn’t look back, and the house became dark and cold before the fog swallowed it up completely, leaving Stross just sitting there on the ground.

“Onmund!” the changeling called out, and chased after his friend “Onmund wait!”

Onmund turned his head, briefly showing the tears running down his face, but he quickly wiped them away when he saw who was following him. “Stross? How are you here?”

“It’s a memory Onmund; the maze has you under some sort of mind-searching coma.” Stross explained.

“Oh… I thought maybe… maybe I’d been given a chance to do things over. Fat lot of good it would have done anyway; it happened the exact same way.” Onmund said sadly.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Stross asked as they kept walking down the endless path.

“What’s to tell?" Onmund paused for a moment and sighed.

"I’ve always loved magic." he started "Ever since I was a child it was amazing to me. But my father always hated it, all because of an insane necromancer that almost sacrificed him for gods know what; that’s what got him to quit adventuring. Needless to say, we came to blows quite often over the subject.

“Gran was old and tired of it, she gave up trying to intervene. And mum… she was always so passive, hated fighting; she’d always take my sister and little brothers away to hide whenever the shouting started. And they... I don’t think they knew what was going on; too young to understand. But they were scared whenever my father and I started arguing, and that was enough.

“All in all, leaving home was probably for the best thing I ever decided to do for myself. I shouldn’t have been so cut up about it… but…”

“You wish you could have left on better terms?” Stross asked tentatively.

Omund nodded. “It was the last time I spoke to any of them. They never sent any letters, never replied to mine… I’m… I’m scared that they’re really not there anymore, like they might have fallen off the face of the earth the second I left.”

Onmund pulled out a large brass locket and clicked it open. Inside were two drawings, meticulously drawn by hand it seemed; one shown his parents smiling with their arms around each other, the other depicted him kneeling next to his little siblings. “I bet they don’t even remember me. Think I’m better off forgotten.”

Stross put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure they miss you, you’re their son, and their brother.”

“I want to be a mage.” Onmund told him “It’s so fascinating and incredible! Learning magic is everything I’ve ever dreamt it would be. I just wish I didn’t have to choose between doing what I love, and being loved by my family.”

“You don’t have to.” came a strong voice from his right.

Onmund looked up to see his father walking next to him, and it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Your mother, your brothers, your sister and I… we’ll always love you, no matter what. Never question that.” his ‘father’ told him “I’m sorry for the things I said to you, I just didn’t want you to get hurt; you’re my son after all.” he put a hand on Onmund’s shoulder “And I’m proud of you son, no matter what you choose to do with your life.”

Onmund smiled, and gave a slight chuckle. “Thank you Stross, it means a lot to hear it. Maybe I’ll even hear my real father say those words one day. Now let’s get out of this maze and save Skyrim! That’ll sure give them something to be proud of.”

The world flickered and faded to white.

…

Onmund groaned and rubbed his head as he got unsteadily to his feet. Stross followed suit soon after.

“The gate… over there.” Stross mumbled and pointed forward towards another magically sealed gate. “Oh, and here you dropped this. Sorry for messing around with your sack.”

“Hah!” Onmund laughed as he took his bag and pulled it back on. “So what’s the deal with this door anyhow?” he asked as he tugged at the metal bars.

“It’s got something to do with that riddle above the door.” Stross pointed to the rust-covered plaque that read [If what you wish is out of reach, reach farther for it].

“What do you suppose that means?” Onmund asked as he went over the words again.

“I don’t know, but if I could reach that pull chain over there, it wouldn’t matter.” Stross pointed to a heavy leaver far down the hallway. “I can’t get to it with my telekinesis, and blasting it with fireballs doesn’t move it. Trust me, I tried… several times.”

Omnund gasped and snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! I almost forgot about this spell.”

He grabbed a tiny bottle of sand from his pocket and poured it out on the ground near his feat. Onmund then cupped both his hands around the small pile of dust and concentrated for a few seconds.

In a flash of light and smoke, a rock surrounded in lightning and wind hovered just slightly above the ground.

“Hey little guy, remember me?” Onmund cooed to the little elemental “I need you to pull that switch over there.”

The rock blinked its single glowing eyeball, and then barked like a dog. Then a long snaking arm of energy reached out of it, through the bars, down the long narrow hall, and grasped the pull chain at the far end.

Stross gave Onmund a questioning look.

“I made it as a friend when I was nine, used it to reach the cookie jar.” Onmund explained “Dad caught me with it once and thought I was in danger; he cleaved it in half. After that I had to use a stool to reach the cookies like a normal kid.”

A metallic clink sounded out and the gate was lowered into the floor as Onmund’s elemental retracted its arm.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I met J’zargo already, but as soon as we got through one of these magic riddle gates, he vanished.” Stross warned him “So try not to do the same-“

*Pop*

“… thing.” Stross finished limply as Onmund and his summon instantly disappeared. “Bob Saget!”

"Not again not again not a- Oof! Ow my head and face.” Stross came to a screeching halt as he rounded a corner only to hit a literal brick wall.

“What’s this?” he monologued as he felt around the surface of the wall blocking his path. “No riddle plaque, no hidden switches, no non-hidden switches! How am I supposed to get past this?”

He was about to turn around and go back the way he came, and hope there was another way. But a wall had apparently materialized behind him while he had his back turned, leaving him in a claustrophobically small box of stone.

“Uhh…”

*Sh-unk!* Suddenly the floor fell out from under him, leaving only a black abyss where he was standing.

And Stross gave zero fucks about it!

“It’s a good day to have wings!” Stross declared as he hovered there.

And then a part of the maze’s wall fell away, revealing a can of bug spray.

“Oh come on! That trap’s way too specif-“ and then his speech devolved into a sputtering mess of coughing and wheezing against the cloud of pesticides as he plummeted down onto the depths.

Stross’s lungs and throat continued to burn when he crash-landed onto a soggy, overgrown surface. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly because the room lacked any kind of light source, but he was glad to have something to roll around in that would negate the effects of the cloud.

After a good minute of stopping, dropping and rolling, Stross finally relaxed into the bliss of the squishy ground as the last of the burning sensation left him. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat up.

“Alright, let’s find a way out of here.” he told himself and conjured some fire for light.

He immediately wished he hadn’t.

Laying around him in the dark and the gloom were dozens upon dozens of rotting bodies. What he had assumed were sticks and twigs breaking under him were actually bones, the rocks turned out to be skulls, and the squishy moss was… squishy moss. Growing on dead people!

However, despite the terrible smell and the juices seeping into his clothes, Stross managed to keep it together and focu-

“WAAAAAAAHHHH! Oh get ‘em off, get ‘em off! Sweet Celestia it’s in my shoes! Let me out! LET ME OUT!”

Stross’s mad scramble as he kicked and stumbled through the dark found him an exit; it was little more than a drain, and barely big enough to squeeze through, but he eagerly stuffed himself inside and started crawling on his belly. (Totally as planned… totally)

…

“Ah, eh, eww… ee-he-hew no.” Stross mumbled as he crawled his way through the narrow passage “Oh it's so gross and sticky... that's what she said.”

Finally, he reached a grate. It was old and rusty, and with some persuasion, it easily came off. Stross then dragged himself out of the cramped tunnel and fell to the floor, and it was solid this time.

“Well… thank goodness that’s over.” He said as he shook off a bunch of debris that had clung to him, it would probably take hours to get his Nightingale outfit clean after all that. “Now, where am I?”

The trickling sound of water hitting stone echoed through the dark surroundings, and Stross nervously lit another fire in his hands, not eager to see what horrors awaited him this time.

Thankfully, there were no rotting remains this time; instead it seemed to be the entrance to some sort of catacomb. Boosting the reach of his fire’s light, Stross found a corridor leading away from the wetness.

The next hallway was also lined with braziers, a couple of them already lit, through it might have been preferable had they not been. Dozens of corpses lined the walls. However these were by no means the expertly preserved draugr that many crypts in Skyrim housed. These ones were revoltingly slimy and decayed from the moisture and lack of embalming, and they hung from the walls by rusted shackles, their bodies threatening to fall apart from being held upright.

Stross walked by them, wholeheartedly expecting them to come alive and jump out at him any second (the bodies still had clothes on after all, everyone knows that the ones with clothes are still sort of alive).

He tensed up as he passed the first row, anticipating an attack from behind that never came. About halfway through, he accidentally brushed by one of the corpse’s hands, immediately backing up and becoming stiff, as he waited for something to happen, but after a couple strenuous seconds, the hand simply fell off and did nothing.

Stross let out a sigh of relief as he passed by the final two and was able to put some distance between himself and the rotting things.

Brelyna sat on the hard stone floor, a gate securely shut in front of her, its twin similarly blocking her retreat. She had been there for almost an hour now, and it felt like far more; time always had a way of either slipping away from her or slowing to a crawl.

She had felt so proud of herself when she managed to break out of the memory trap, and she had never been so glad to get away from memories of home. But now she was here, in a stinking, corpse-filled dungeon beneath Shalidor’s maze, all because she rushed ahead without thinking.

She couldn’t stop berating herself for being so foolish, but it seemed like such a simple puzzle. Turn a crank and the door opens to the next room, then in the next room was a similar device to open the next door and so on.

Of course the mechanisms would get more complex as one progressed, Brelyna expected that. But one that needed three people to operate? There was no way. And because the doors close behind you, she was now trapped inside with no way back, all alone.

Crying was useless as no one would hear her, and a waste of liquids that she’d need to survive. But that logical reasoning wasn’t enough to stop her, it never was. Over the last few minutes of being trapped, Brelyna had managed to get a hold of herself, or maybe she’d just gotten tired of crying, and now only had to hold back an occasional hiccup or two.

Still, it didn’t help change the fact that she was going to die down here.

Her friends were probably lost in the maze like she was. And even if they weren’t they had a mission to save all of Skyrim.

No one was ever going to find her.

Not ever, ever, not even in a million years- expect someone did.

“Hello?!” a raspy voice called out through the door to her right “I’m sensing copious amounts of depression and self-loathing in here! Brelyna is that you?”

Brelyna looked up, surely it couldn’t be… “St- Stross? Stross quick, open the door!” she begged him as she ran to the gate. “There’s a switch back there!”

Stross quickly found the lever she was talking about and pulled it.

Brelyna was overjoyed to be free again, and made it the first priority to run up and giver her savior a big hug, an act he gladly returned. “Thank you Stross, thank you thank you! I’m so happy to see you; I thought I’d be trapped down here forev- uh… Why are you all sticky?”

“I was rolling in dead people sludge.” Stross told her plainly.

Brelyna let out a mortified whimper before hastily taking a respectable step backwards and brushing herself off. “Oh… well I’m still glad you showed up when you did.”

“But how did you end up here? When I found Onmund and J’zargo, they were in some kind of magic induced sleep. I had to go in their minds and pull them out of their… I guess, most painful memories.” Stross told her.

“Oh… I already did that.” Brelyna rubbed her arm. “I found myself here a little while afterwards. My own mistake.”

"Aww, and I was building up such a nice helper streak too." Stross whined as the two of them backtracked a bit. “What were they about? The dreams I mean.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well I gave the guys a little pep talk when their memories were over, and it helped us get past these riddle doors.” Stross explained “And then they just kinda poofed out of existence. Did you see either of them lately?”

“Well no… I can’t say I have.” Brelyna told him in spite of the obvious “But if you really want to know, my dreams were just reliving my studies at home before being sent to Winterhold.”

“Sent? You mean you didn’t want to come on your own like the others.”

“No. Well- what I mean is… I’m part of a noble family in Morrowind, a branch of house Telvanni. I have a lot of expectations to live up to, being an only child. My parents always told me ever since I could walk how much it meant that I do something great with my life, and magic was an obvious choice. They had me tutored in a great many different schools of magic all my life.”

“Oh. Still that must have been fun, traveling all over, meeting other young mages, making friends…”

“They weren’t those kinds of schools Stross. Schools as in restoration, conjuration, not actual… schools. I barely ever talked to anyone but my professors and tutors.” Brelyna told him sadly “You, and the others are the closest thing to actual friends I’ve ever been allowed to have.”

“Wow… I’m sorry.” Stross said not knowing how to respond to something like that. Fortunately they just reached the hall of bodies. “Oh hey, it’s these things again.”

“What’s that? Is that a plaque?’ Brelyna pointed to a metal plate hanging above the bodies.

“Huh? I must have missed that. ‘[In magic there is no good or evil, only power. Do not be afraid to use all at your disposal]’.” Stross read the plaque “I wonder what that means.”

Brelyna gasped and put her hands to her mouth. “On no.” she muttered “No no no. Oh gods please not that.”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s talking about necromancy.” Brelyna said, looking as though she felt sick.

“Ah yes,” Stross stroked his chin like a noble scholar “The dark and forbidden art of making instant minions and sex slaves. Celestia herself once sought to have such practices purged from existence, yet none could resist the allure of molesting a reanimated corpse. And so the necro-romance wars began! Celestia’s holy Templars of ethics and chastity struck down with many pamphlets and folk songs against the roleplaying death-wizards and their harems of living-impaired! All the while the moderates, who simply wanted to live in peace with their newly risen marefriends had their ideals callously shoved aside-”

“Stross? That sounds like a very interesting tale, but we really should find a way out of here.” Brelyna interrupted him.

“Aww, okay.” Stross pouted “So you know any necromancy?”

“No!” Brelyna said, perhaps a bit too quickly “Well… maybe a little.”

“Sweet! Let’s get some of these guys to help us out.” Stross poked one of the corpses.

Brelyna hesitated. “I… I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this.”

“That’s okay, just tell me how to do it.” Stross offered.

“That’s even worse! I’d be tainting you with that knowledge too.” Brelyna refused “You’re too sweet and innocent for that!”

Stross giggled and blushed.

“No. I’ll have to do this myself.” Brelyna said and walked over to the decaying bodies lining the walls “Just don’t watch okay? Turn around.”

Stross did as he was told and turn his back while the dunmer concentrated. The air started to feel thicker, heavier with magic-

“Stross I can feel you looking!”

The changeling let out a small ‘eep’ and turned his head back around.

By the time the air had settled and Stross was allowed to look, Brelyna had brought to life eight loyal servants. She returned to him looking quite repulsed, shivering and hugging herself as the corpses followed in a conga line.

…

The first two rooms were a cinch to get past, one zombie to operate each crank. In the condition they were in, Stross assumed their bodies would fall apart from the mere effort of turning the cranks, but the magic Brelyna had used to bring them to life was apparently keeping them together.

Next came a bridge over a pit of spikes, where more bodies seemed to have fallen long ago, their bones still hanging on the stone protrusions. They had to leave one of the eight behind in order to keep hold of the lever while they crossed, and it fell apart the second it was out of range of Brelyna’s animation spell.

“Farewell, Captain dislocated-wrist!” Stross saluted as he shed a single tear “Oh captain my captain.”

“Oh Stross, this is why I told you not to name them.” Brelyna gave him a consoling hug.

…

The final obstacle seemed to be an empty room with an open door on the other end, but Stross quickly found out that it was far from empty when he set but a single toe inside and a crossbow bolt nearly nailed his foot to the floor. All around the room were statues armed with crossbows, loaded to fire at any form of movement.

“Yipes. That’s a lot of pointy things.” Stross observed “Brey, this calls for some advanced minion tactics. And so I’d like to introduce to you something I call… Operation Meatshield! Standard changeling tactics for the Queen’s royal guards.”

Brelyna gave him a questioning glance and tilted her head.

“Those changelings have balls of steel.”

And so the seven zombies were lined up in a defensive phalanx around Stross and Brelyna and they prepared to walk into the line of fire.

The second they entered the room, a dozen arrows whistled through the air, followed by the sickly squelching of their impacts into rotten flesh.

Though none of the arrows even came close to hitting either of them, Stross hugged Brelyna even tighter as they kept walking forward.

Light glinted on stone as the statues reloaded their crossbows, this time with fire-tipped arrows. As more and more salvoes of arrows were fired, one of the zombies on the right took an arrow in the… leg, and collapsed.

The remaining six filed closer in order to close the gap, but it would not last. In the span of a few seconds, two more fell, and our heroes quickened their pace.

Halfway across the room, the tallest of the zombies was downed by a headshot. With their defenses falling around them, a couple arrows whizzed by, narrowly missing them.

“Run. Run!” Stross yelled and the two took off as the corpses shambled to keep up.

For a few seconds the dead drew fire from the statues, but all too soon the last one fell and the statues were free to focus solely on Brelyna and Stross.

Arrows pelted the ground where the two stood only a moment before. Finally, one found purchase in Brelyna’s thigh. The dunmer let out a cry of pain as she fell to the ground and more arrows clinked into the stone around her.

“Brey, get up!” Stross shouted as he ran to her.

As he was helping her up, an arrow struck him in the shoulder, and another in the small of his back.

“Gah! Okay I got this, I got this…” Stross panted and cast Oakflesh on himself. It helped a little, in at least the arrows only embedded their tips instead of going straight through him.

He pulled Brelyna to her feet and the two started to limp towards the exit as the statues reloaded.

“Stross watch ou-!“

Stross quickly shoved Brelyna back to the floor and dove over her like a shield as several more arrows pelted him in the back.

“St-Stross… You’re-“

“It’s okay… I’m cool.” He managed to say, though the whimper in his voice told her otherwise.

Brelyna grabbed hold of his arms, and used her good leg to drag them both the last few feet out the door to safety. The door slammed shut behind them as soon as they were through, and the unmistakable sound of arrows thock-ing into wood rang out several more times.

“Stross are you okay?” Brelyna asked as she laid him gently on the floor and looked over the several arrows lodged in the bleeding holes in his back.

“I will be.” The changeling gasped “I just need to… heal my-… heal… Oh here I go again.”

“Stross!” Brelyna screamed as Stross’s head flopped face first onto the floor.

“Mmr hr ferf a nerr, berrf?” Stross asked.

“What?” Brealyna leaned closer and lifted Stross’s head up.

“Can I feed on you, please?” he repeated. “I just need enough to heal us both and then I- nmph.“

Asking was all he had to do, as the dunmer girl suddenly pulled him up and pressed her mouth against his. For the first few seconds Stross wanted to tell her she didn’t have to kiss him to feed him, but finally gave in to the tidal wave of love flooding over him, savoring every last drop of her soul being poured in.

Stross blinked after a few seconds had passed and tried to pull away. But Brelyna wouldn’t have it and continued to suck at his lips, wrapping her arms tighter around him. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and he rolled his eyes while he waited for her to stop.

Eventually she had to come up for air, and they broke contact.

“I… I-I’m sorry.” Brelyna said between gasps “I… sh-shouldn’t have-“

“It’s okay, I feel great now!” Stross told her and began awkwardly trying to pull the arrows out of his back before his shell healed around the shafts.

“H-here, let me help you.” Brelyna said and took over for him, being as careful as she could to not do any more damage. “I’m still sorry for latching onto you like that, it was wrong. Please don’t tell Fenora, she’d be furious with me.”

“Oh come on- Ow! I’m sure she’d under- Owch! understand.” Stross told her.

Brelyna paused for a moment before resuming her work. “She told me. After we escaped Sarthaal and the two of you were leaving Winterhold, she said she didn’t want to share you with anyone.”

“Ohmygosh, women are being possessive over me. I feel so giddy just thinking about it!” Stross said, barely able to contain himself. After all those years of having to fight to keep significant others, it was finally his turn to be the desired one!

“Stross…” Brelyna sighed “This is serious, I’m already in hot water with her as it is. I already… told her I love you.”

“Come on Brey, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Stross told her “Fen’s just really attached to me, and I don’t know what I’d do without her either. But I still love you too.”

“R-really?”

“Of course. You’re like the sister I never had.” Stross told her with a smile before a realization donned on him. “Oh Celestia I just made out with my sister. I’m like Luke-warm Skywater in Star- YEOWCH! Gently, please.”

“I’m sorry, but your sister still has an arrow in her leg.” Brelyna said in a sudden spiteful tone.

“Oh, here I’ll get it.” Stross switched places with her and started slowly working the arrow out. It was embedded pretty deep, and the lip-biting grimace Brelyna gave every time he pulled it out a bit more made it as painful for him as it was for her. “Alright, it’s out.” Stross said finally, discarding the projectile and placing a healing palm over the wound.

“Thank you Stross.” Brelyna said and got to her feet, only to feel woozy and almost fall over again if Stross hadn’t been there to catch her.

“Easy. Lean on me.” Stross told her, draping her arm over his shoulder so they could start walking. “I must have taken more out of you than I thought. I should have been more careful.”

“It’s alright Stross. And… thank you. For giving me my first kiss.”

“That was your first time!?” Stross exclaimed in shock “Brey, some lucky guy is gonna take you around the freaking world one day, I guarantee it.”

“Why would I want to travel the world?” Brelyna asked, confused by the idea.

Stross chuckled and let out a sigh. “Yep, round the world twice.”

*Pop!*

"Brelyna?" Stross looked around to find nothing at all. "Why does this keep happening?!"

IMPORTANT: Story is moving!

Okay, so this isn't really a chapter, but more of an announcement for anyone who missed my blog post, as well as an update for those who did catch it.

A Changeling's visit to Skyrim is being rewritten, and this existing story will be un-submitted so that the new version can be posted safely.

This switch will be taking place sometime on Nov. 6th. This story will be taken down at that time and, if all goes well with the mods, the new story will be up sometime in the afternoon of the same day.

Thank you for your attention, and I will see you all on the other side.

-Erised