The Hands of Fateby AedanrycheChaptersAct 1 Chapter 2: Settling Into a New LandAct 1 Chapter 3: Gods and GriffinsAct 1 Capter 1: A New World, With Old Rivals...Act 1 Chapter 2: Settling Into a New Land“What is it?” … “I’m not sure. It looks like a monkey*…” … “Is it dead?” “I’m…” Kerik mumbled, hearing the sound of things moving away from him. “I’m not… a monkey…” he could feel the air on his chest, as well as his feet; the light breeze chilling the sweat on his skin. “Water…” He croaked; his throat dry. He heard the sounds of hooves on stone leaving, returning quickly at the same pace. He could feel a waterskin pressed into his hand, which he closed around it. “Thank you…” he said before bringing the skin to his lips and releasing the kink he held into the material. The water flowed out into his mouth in large swallows, the tired Nord drinking all of it without spilling a drop. He let the bag fall from his grip, the soft material landing with a light thump as he pushed himself into an upright position. Looking around he noticed more of the horse creatures that resembled the ones on the battlefield, save for these having weapons in reach or attached to them. Around him were three of the creatures, each differing slightly from actual horses. One seemed to be a horse of very small stature, the other having a pair of wings and the last having a horn atop its head. He shook off the questions buzzing in his mind, deciding to ask the important ones; starting with… “Where am I?” The creatures looked at him, strange and confused expressions hanging to their flesh while the spark of fear blazed in their eyes. The first to speak was the one with the horn. “You are in Equestria,” the creature spoke in a feminine voice accented like an Imperial’s. “Home of the ponies and future kingdom of the Unicorn Empire.” The one with wings next to her bowed up, facing her with rage on its face. “Unicorn Empire my flank,” The creature spoke, its voice gruff and deep. “This is the soon to be Pegasus Commonwealth!” The last one spoke up, their voice rather neutral but still male. “Stop your petty argument,” he said. “It’s pointless to argue over ownership when we all know it shall be the Earth Pony Confederacy.” The three fell into intense argument at this point, Kerik giving them a blank stare as they fought amongst themselves. ‘Maybe I'm fighting the wrong enemy,’ He thought, sighing audibly. The three began to elevate in volume, each trying to yell over the other, as two more of the creatures walked into the room. These two were different, each having both the horns and wings while also being the size of a good draft horse. One of the two was white, glowing and held itself with an air of eminence and nobility. The other was a deep blue, its stance one more suited for combat or dueling. It seemed to have an air of ominous force, like a storm brewing on the coast and about to break over a mountain with all the force it could muster. As if he had predicted the future, the blue creature walked up behind the three arguing ponies, a deadpan expression coating its face for three seconds before it reared up and struck out at the group, landing a punch on each of their muzzles in one stroke. “What are you three thinking,” she scorned in a deeper feminine voice, anger painting her stance now. “This is the first contact this being has with the entirety of our race and you fall back into your petty squabbles! I have had enough of hearing your ever-changing forms of government! Be cooperative with each other or I shall have you all flogged for naught but stupidity!” the pony's body language and expression remained threatening as she looked over the three, relaxing and becoming passive again as she stepped toward Kerik. “My apologies, War Master,” She said, bowing slightly. “These ponies are usually the only ones that do not cooperate. May I be the first to welcome you to our home of Equestria, soon to be under sovereign ownership of the entire,” she said deliberately, casting an angry glare back at the three ponies. “Species of ponies and ponies alone. I am Luna. May I ask your name, War Master?” “Kerik of Windhelm,” he said, looking over the room. It resembled a keep from Skyrim, but built to different proportions. “Where am I?” he asked, noting the banners that were flying. Each one had a figure emblazoned before a graphic design, the figure resembling one of the three, still arguing, creatures. “You are in the city of Baltimare,” the white horned and winged pony said, walking up to him. “It is around fifty kilo-strides from the battlefield you arrived in.” Kerik gave her a confused glance, getting a slightly sheepish look from her. “A stride as nearly your height on a lateral movement. Just say that for us at a gallop it takes about one hour to cover.” Kerik nodded, understanding striking him. “Pardon my lack of hospitality. I am Celestia, controller of the sun. This is my sister Luna, controller of the moon.” She bowed slightly, trading royal niceties. “We should thank you for your un-requested assistance.” “Assistance?” Kerik asked in honest confusion, not knowing what he had done. “I don’t recall helping you in any way, only killing a few dragons and not having the strength to chase the one that escaped.” Celestia chuckled slightly, shaking her head. “That is how you helped us,” she explained. “You see, we are at war with an idea manifested. Discord, as he calls himself, is corrupting the world as he sees fit and destroying the natural order. He is a malevolent force, ruining the land, tainting the skies and poisoning the waters. He takes ponies and other beings of Equestria and unmakes them, recreating them as he wishes them to be and inflicting endless pain on all within his reach. And I fear that reach is ever expanding.” Celestia sighed and turned around to face the arrow slit in the wall. “Every week, Discord can affect farther and farther from his hold on Cavalry Hill**. Now the Dragons have sided with him, and even those we once thought allies, the Griffins, have turned upon us. The only free species besides us that remain are the Entians, Tribal Buffalo and the Shadeskaul. The tribes will not have a part in our war, and the Shadeskaul are pacifists that live on the frozen seas.” Celestia took on a look of sadness, slouching slightly and looking off to the side. “Enough, sister,” Luna said in a not-too-unkind tone. “This talk does you no good, only bringing you pain and sorrow.” Celestia nodded slightly, obviously unconvinced but trusting her sister’s advice. “We have yet to make a statement to the public,” Luna said, looking toward Kerik. “On the battle, I mean. Undoubtedly, the ponies of the Free Republic are eager to hear about the victory, even at the cost of loved ones.” She turned and gestured to a large chest against the wall. “We have your armor stored in there,” she said. “When you wouldn’t wake, we removed it to allow our healers past the wards they contain, but it seems that you need no healing. You may join us at the keep gates once you finish dressing if you wish.” Luna led her sister out of the room, staying behind the bickering trio of ponies to keep them moving as the guards took their own exits. Kerik waited for the sounds of hooves on stone to diminish to the monotony of traffic before standing from the table. The blanket that had once covered his legs fell to the ground, the cold air hitting his skin like a knife and causing a shiver to run through him. ‘It must be the middle of Hearthfire here,’ Kerik thought as he walked to the chest. He opened the trunk, kneeling down and removing six rather heavy pieces of armor, holding the helmet in his hand after setting the others aside. He stared into the Daedric piece, his reflection gleaming on the polished black horns. The item reminded him of the head of a dragon, and that was exactly why he had kept it from the dungeon he cleaned out. He had been paid handsomely for his efforts, but nothing amounted to the worth of the full set of armor he had found. ‘This may not leave a good first impression on them,’ he decided, remembering the appearance of the dragon he had tangled with. He laid the helmet next to the other pieces, reaching for his pack. He lifted the framed leather sack, opening the tie on the top and digging through poultices, potions and food until he felt something soft. Withdrawing his hand, clutched in his fist, was a set of clothes; black leather boots, tan leggings and a red and yellow tunic. … Kerik closed the door to the room behind himself, turning back to the fore and tying an Elven sword and Glass dagger to the belt around his waist. He sighed, running a hand through his hair to pull it out of his face before nodding to the pony guard that was stationed outside the room. “Everything is in order sir?” the pony asked, a smile painted on his muzzle underneath the Imperial style helmet he wore. Kerik simply nodded to the pony, still unnerved by the fact that they talked. It was not the strangest thing he had experienced, but it was definitely among the top twenty. “Very good,” the pony said. “I am Ridge Runner, and I am to help you find your way around the keep and the rest of the city. My orders are to take you to the gates if you wish. I must say that Celestia and Luna would highly appreciate it if you do.” Kerik looked down the hall to the right, then to the left before returning his vision to Ridge Runner. “How highly,” Kerik asked, raising an eyebrow. Ridge runner smirked, nodding up the corridor before setting off. “It would be up there sir,” Ridge runner said. “Somewhere between gifts and a kiss, though I doubt you would get one from Celestia. She may just be the most prudish pony in existence. But Luna…” Ridge Runner chuckled mischievously. “I’ve heard some of the stories that float around the barracks about those she calls to her quarters. And not just the stallions,” he gave Kerik a wink, causing him to laugh slightly. “So you want to go to the Gates then?” he asked. “Only if the kitchen is in the other direction,” Kerik said. “I don’t want to walk farther than I have to right now. Being unconscious is not the same as sleeping.” “Then you are in luck,” Ridge runner said. “The kitchen is on the way. We will only have to take a small detour.” He directed Kerik towards a left fork, guiding him deeper into the halls along the counter clockwise curve. “Since it is between meals, you will probably only be able to get bread and milk. Those are always up for the taking. Ale is one bit a pint and Mead is two bits a flagon.” Ridge Runner opened a wooden door, the smell of cooking food wafting out and causing Kerik’s mouth to water. “Mead sounds divine right now,” Kerik said, walking in and waiting for the pony. “Sure wish I had some of your money. But all I have are these Septims,” Kerik reached into a pouch at his waist, pulling out a few of the inch and a half wide gold coins. “By the gods,” Ridge Runner exclaimed as he looked over the coins. “Is that one coin or something like fifty silver pieces?” Kerik held up a finger, getting a gasp out of the pony. “That’s worth at least seven bits in just gold alone. How many do you have?” Kerik added up the math in his head, coming out with seven-hundred thousand bits. “That is fragile information that could ruin our budding relationship,” he said, giving the pony a playful smirk and a wink. “Come, I’ll buy you a flagon or two.” ... “Yesterday, we achieved a great triumph,” Celestia said from the steps of the fortress, the gathered crowd cheering at her words. “Our losses were great, but through the sacrifice we were able to rout the largest Dragon offensive yet. Now we can take the fight to them, on their own land! We have pushed them back from our borders, and they are frightened by our force!” The ponies gathered cheered again, roaring praise for her, chants of her name filing the crowd. Celestia let the praise soak in for a moment, raising her hoof to call for silence. “However, we would have not won save for one being.” Someone in the crown yelled her and her sister’s name, another yelling the name of his or her war god. “No, I must admit that not even I or my sister could defeat their advance force, and it was not divine intervention.” She turned around, beckoning to something unseen. The ponies gasped as a creature. more than two meters tall, walked up to the podium, a gilt sword at its waist and garbed in deep blue clothes. Its hair was the color of sunlight, its skin as pale as snow. “This is Kerik, a warrior from another world. He fell from the sky to the battle, not knowing what was happening, raising his weapon in our defense against the dragons, slaying the largest warrior next to the Red King himself.” The crowd murmured at the sight of the human, one daring to ask the right question of whose side he was on. Celestia looked at Kerik, the Nord giving her a shrug. “Unfortunately, his side is yet to be determined, but I can tell you that his loyalties lie neither with evil nor the dragons. He is a being of worth, a warrior of honor and a creature of valor. He possesses power greater than many and a voice filled with a strength that can topple a wall.” One pony cried shenanigans and another cried farce. Kerik raised his hand, casting arcs of lightning to the sky. Thunder echoed around the area as the crowd went silent. “Because I haven’t chosen who to help does not mean I am weak,” He stepped down a stair, glaring into the crowd. “And the more I look the less of a choice I want to make. You are all cowards, the whole lot. Where I am from, when war came, there was not a man or woman that did not answer the Jarl’s call. Even children made their contributions by caring for the family trade in their parent’s absence.” He let his harsh words settle in, the edges sinking like daggers in their egos. He turned around, seeing a disapproving look from Celestia, Kerik simply smirking and giving her a wink. “What would you have us do,” A pony yelled from the background. “We have no training, no ability to arm ourselves! Would you have us fight with just our hooves, with no barding, no protection? I do not know about your world, but on ours, dragons breathe fire!” Kerik turned back to them. “Aye, they breathe fire in Skyrim. But also ice! They make the heavens rain flaming stones, and roar with a force that can topple castles!” A murmur rolled through the crowd. “That’s right. If you were to face Alduin, the Bane of Kings and Eater of Worlds, you would not survive.” He took another step down, the crowd backing up slightly. “If you rally, and answer the call to arms like my kinsmen do, then I will aid you, but until then, I will not raise my blade unless mine own life is threatened.” He placed his left hand on the pommel of his sword, turning and walking back to Celestia's side. “I’ll be inside should any dragons attack the city,” he said to her alone, turning and walking back through the doors. … “What were you thinking,” Celestia demanded, slamming her hoof down on the table, knocking a goblet of wine over. Two servers from the kitchen hurried over, cleaning the spill and refilling the cup. “Not only were you completely out of line, but you may have placed a target on our throats!” She slammed her hoof down again, a server lifting the cup before it struck. “You could have undone everything I have worked for in this city, and if word of your little soliloquy reaches the other cities of the Free Republic then we will lose the modicums of trust we have with the city-states, effectively neutralizing our combative force!” Across the table, Kerik sat in a chair that had been made to his requirements, his foot on the edge of the table and the chair balanced on its back legs. He sipped mead from a tankard, his demeanor calm and his face unchanging as he stared down the white horse. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Kerik drained the last of his drink, snapping his fingers. “More mead,” was all he said, holding out the cup as a server poured more honey-wine into it. He took a drink as the pony bowed and stepped back, lowering the mug and wiping his lips with a sleeve. Celestia guffawed at his blasé attitude, effectively dumbstruck and without words to express her rage toward him. Luna giggled slightly at her sister, falling into a gut hold as she continued to stay mouth agape and half-upright. “Calm sister,” she giggled. “And close your mouth, it is most unbecoming.” Celestia closed her jaw, glaring at Luna as if to set her on fire. “Look at it this way,” she said, waving a hoof to Kerik. “If this warrior can stare you down in the height of your scorn and anger, imagine what he has had to see and do. I could wager that this… Man, was it?” Kerik nodded, his tankard affixed to his lips like it had been cast there. “I could wager that he could take on an entire assaulting force by himself.” She sank into her cushion further, imagining the sight of the battle. “What I would give to be a part of the fray.” Kerik and Celestia both raised an eyebrow, looking at her as if she was a seven legged dog with one eye and four mouths. Luna woke from her daydream, noticing not only Kerik and Celestia, but Hurricane, Platinum and Puddinghead were all looking at her. “What? It would be a glorious fight…” Kerik shook his head and continued to enjoy his drink as Celestia took her turn to laugh, Luna’s muzzle blooming with a slightly brighter blue. “So Celestia,” Hurricane spoke up, setting his plate of food aside. “You mentioned attacking the Dragons on their own ground. Do you believe this to be truly possible? I mean no disrespect, but our friend here stated it quite plainly. We do not have the recruiting numbers we need to take the fight farther than our own borders.” Celestia was about to reply, but Kerik cut her off. “You have to rally more efficiently.” He said calmly, causing the room to turn and face him, confused by his sudden interest. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I'm surprised you all made it to this point.” He set his tankard down, picking up a plate and sliding it into the middle of the table, an ice sculpture of a dragons head dominating the small plate. “This plate is your forces, the sculpture is theirs.” He tossed several knives between the two, the tips sticking in the wood. “That is the border. Plates,” he called, snapping his fingers. Twenty small plates levitated to his side, Kerik taking several and placing them around near his side of the table. “Where do the bulk of your soldiers come from?” “Cloudsdale.”Commander Hurricane said, Kerik placing a plate forward of the others. “Baltimare,” another plate… “Buckingham,” Another… “And Eastpony.” Another plate. “The advance force is already at the border, correct?” Nods waved at him, Kerik moving the plates near the line of knives. “If you can rally an equal force from each of those cities, you could breach their border defense, using systematic and precise pressure from Siege engines and magicians. Each of these obstacles will fall, and you are free to move in.” He tossed the plates until they created a cal-de-sac with one exit for the sculpture. “Once there, you will fight them until they run, keeping them funneled toward their capitol city.” “You mean Cavalry?” Princess Platinum asked. “But that is the most heavily fortified city in their territory, there is no way we could get in.” Kerik ran a hand over his face, sighing through his nose. “With a name like Cavalry I would suspect it was once ruled by your kind,” The table nodded. Kerik waved his hands in the air. “Then there must be someone or something to tell you how to get in! Are you all stupid or just too stuck up in your nobility to see the answer before you?” The ponies recoiled at his remark, save Luna, who simply smiled and took a drink to hide it. “Who in their right mind would lead this suicide charge?” Commander Hurricane said, his resolve regained. “Certainly not me, I have not an urge to send ponies to their deaths.” Kerik tapped the handle of the wooden fork he had made against the table, thinking on the subject. The remaining ponies, save Celestia and Luna, expressed their positions in the negative. “Fine,” he said, dropping the fork and touching a hand to his chin. “If you can muster the force, I will lead them all.” He picked up his cup, taking a quaff as the three ponies stared at him in disbelief. “What,” he asked. “If you three aren’t competent enough to take charge, then I will lead them all in by myself. Remember, I like killing dragons.” He finished his drink, taking a loaf of bread from the table and standing. “C’mon Ridge Runner, I want to see the town.” Ridge Runner bowed slightly, leading Kerik out of the dining hall. The ponies sat there in silence, the tribal leaders poking their food with forks as Celestia stewed over on what had happened. Luna sighed, wiping her mouth on the back of a hoof and standing. “I don’t know about you three, but I’m with him. I will take a detachment as well when the time comes. Until then I am going out, show him the sites with Runner.” ... Kerik descended the stairs, noticing they were slightly longer than the stairs they used in Tamriel. “So…” Ridge Runner began. “What were the towns where you are from like?” Kerik looked down at him, walking to the fortress wall with the pony. “You mean the cities?” Ridge Runner nodded, stopping next to the gates as the guards opened them. “Well, usually they were divided into quarters or sections in Skyrim. Usually a high cost residential, low cost residential, industrial and market sections being the largest if they had more than that.” The doors slid away, revealing the rest of the city to their elevated view. Just as in Whiterun, Kerik could see the noble housing and market area, the low cost residential being outside of the inner walls and surrounded by a wooden defense. The Industrial District was directly beside the market district, smoke rising from a foundry. Farms squared the rolling hills beyond the outer walls, roads passing outside the houses that headed them. “Just like this in fact,” He said, a pang of homesickness running through him as he thought of Windhelm and his wife sitting at home alone. “Are you alright,” Ridge Runner asked, noticing the change in his voice. “You seem a little down all of a sudden.” Kerik shook his head, taking a step forward and descending the stairs from the fortress. “I’m fine,” He lied, continuing into the city. “How about you show me to a forge and where I can buy some steel, eh? It’s my trade,” Ridge Runner nodded, stopping and turning back as a voice called to them. “Luna, why are you here?” he asked as she trotted up to the two, forming a lopsided triangle before looking at them both quickly. “I want to see the city, maybe learn something of Kerik's skills; what he can do for us while he’s here,” She gave the duo an eager smile. Kerik and Runner looked at her, finding her behavior slightly out of place. “Well,” she questioned. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” ... Kerik dunked the glowing sword into the trough of oil and salt water, steam and fire rolling off the surface as the heat boiled the solution of brine. The steel stopped glowing, Kerik grasping the blanked handle and pulling it from the water, holding it up and testing the weight, making sure the balance was correct for his hand. He had created one of the curved Redguard swords he had longed after for so long, knowing it could easily lop limbs from an attacker with little effort. “That is craftsmanship,” he said in a dreamy voice, swirling the still burning hot blade by his side. “The weight is in the front, the handle being long enough to wield with either two hands or one, allowing for finesse or a simple edged bludgeon.” He took the blade to the granite wheel, working the pedal as he ground the flats to a shine. Ridge Runner gave the pony beside him a bag of coins, the transaction going silently as Kerik continued to admire the forming piece of art with a ravenous glee. Luna stood beside him, watching with meticulous precision as he sharpened the weapon. “Where did you learn to craft blades like this,” Luna asked, getting a glance in response. “In Whiterun,” he said, testing the edge on a block of wood, splitting the fibers against the grain nearly perfectly. “I was an adventurer when I began, like so many warriors in Skyrim, and I needed some armor and weapons. I met a smith, Eorlund Gray-Mane; he worked at the Skyforge, something that predates history. He agreed to train me in the ways of metal and fire, and here you have evidence that he is still better than me…” Kerik held up the edge of the blade before Luna’s eyes, showing her the small ripple in the steel. “He never makes mistakes.” Kerik sighed and wrapped the blade in linen, swearing under his breath. “I’ll have to start over, but I'm not about to waste this nearly perfect blade.” He went about the forge, returning tools to their places and restocking the coal for the smelter from the forge owner’s shed. “I will be back later this month, reforge the steel and hammer out the defects before I temper it,” He turned around, tying the blade to his belt by the wrappings. “Thank you for letting me use your forge,” he said, bowing slightly. The blue pony bowed back. “Anytime I can help, sir,” she said. “I would like to learn some of your techniques. You hammer style seems perfect for a new design of barding I'm creating for Celestia, as well as your heating method.” Kerik nodded, turning to face Ridge Runner and Luna. … “So why did you choose to be a warrior.” Luna asked, sitting on a cushion as she watched Kerik cover a rack with his armor and weapons. “From what you’ve told me, you were happy to be an explorer.” Kerik shrugged, leaning against the pommel of his sword. “It isn’t as simple as one would think,” He said, laying the blade on a rack. “The saying of 'Blood and Silver is what flows from Markarth' is true for all of Skyrim. If you don’t have money, you don’t have the things necessary to explore.” He took an axe from his pack, hanging it on some rungs. The entire room suddenly smelled of death to Luna, Kerik pulling a pair of black and red gloves from his pack. She covered her nose with a hoof, blocking most of the stench out. “Things like medicine, properly fitted armor and arms, food, maps… Things that you would die without. I took to sellswording, mercenary work. It began as clearing areas of danger under contract. Bears, Wolves, Undeath, traps and the like were my responsibility to remove from the area before historians, scholars and archaeologists would excavate. Then I began bounty hunting, chasing men across the country and bringing them to justice for their crimes. But when the dragons came, everything changed. I was pitted against one for my life, and before it died by my hammer it screamed 'Dovahkiin'. Then I was summoned for a greater purpose by the Graybeards, to save Tamriel.” Kerik placed the last of his items in a chest, locking it and setting the key around his neck on a leather thong. “I have taken many lives, and I know that I must take more before I am free from strife. Hopefully this war will be my last.” He stood and took Luna’s hoof, helping her to stand before walking her out of the room. Author's Note Hey everypony! It's me again. I had this already wrote up, but i figured that it could do with some editing and polishing. Blame my ADHD and very unorganized state for it not already being there. Ah yes, the Asterisks are back! Time for a few more explanations and origins of reference. *: The first one is a movie Reference. This is a line taken from the movie series Prophesy, namely the first three with Christopher Walken. the Angles called humans "Talking Monkeys" **: Reference two is easy for any Christian/Interfaith Student/School of Frostian Wicca graduate to get. Cavalry hill is where Jesus of Nazareth/Jesus Christ/ Joshua of Nazareth ect. was crucified. So, please review, gimme your opinions and if you would and this site allows, rate it! Act 1 Chapter 3: Gods and GriffinsAct 1 Chapter 3: The Blessing of Dragons Kerik sat up in his cot, the full moon shining through his window and directly onto him. He sighed, resigned to wait out the restlessness that filled him as he always had. Sleep never came easy to him, a man who had taken the lives of many, and doubly so now that he was in a world strange and alien to any human. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the sleep that had once weighted them away before swinging his legs over the edge of the cot. “Ysmir be damned…,” he said groggily, wishing he could sleep. He let his hands fall; clasping them together and casting a spell of Night Eye. His control over the power allowed him to see in the dark, the room becoming as bright as day. “A walk will do me good,” he said to himself, standing and grabbing his pants and tunic. He garbed in them quickly, his subconscious mind telling him they were unfit as he looked himself over in the mirror. He shrugged, disrobing and choosing instead his Steel armor. The pieces came together easily, the clasps causing the sectioned plates to join effortlessly from the constant care he gave them. He shrugged several times, rolling his shoulders and flexing his arms and legs to get the parts to sit right. He knelt before his arms chest, opening the trunk and withdrawing two glass daggers, tying them to his belt before moving to the weapon rack. From it, he took a Daedric sword, swirling the weapon by his side in his right hand to make sure the leather strips were fitted correctly before sheathing it by his left hip. He lifted a steel shield from the floor, sliding his arm into the leather brace before grasping the handle and hefting the weight. His fourteen-inch biceps tensed as he curled the disc, waking his joints from their half-asleep state before he turned to the door. Kerik opened the door carefully, moving it quickly to keep the creaking hinges a quiet as possible. He stepped out silently, his leather-soled boots plodding quietly on the stone floor as he looked at Ridge Runner sleeping in his chair. He shut the door silently, turning and sneaking away, following the hall toward the front door. ‘Not the stealthiest way, but I guess I can make due,’ he thought, listening closely for guard patrols as he navigated the slightly less familiar path. Night made the castle seem to change, the structures Kerik had seen the day before seeming to be completely different. Where there had been a stairwell, there was now a hallway. Where there was a corridor, there was now a sleeping quarters. After what felt like an hour of searching, Kerik finally reached the exit. There were three black pegasi guarding the double door, Kerik sighing and knowing he was not going to slip out unnoticed. She stood behind a pillar, walking around the ornate piece and presenting himself to the guards. “I seek exit to the city below and the walls beyond,” he stated plainly, the three guard nodding before opening one of the oak doors wide enough for him to exit through. Kerik stood fast for a moment, shocked slightly that he had not met with confrontation. He exited at the urging of one of the guards, thanking them each with gold as he did before they closed the doors behind him. … Kerik walked out of the city gate, nodding to the guards as he passed them without incident and making his way farther out of the urbanized area. After ten minutes of walking he turned in a random direction, making his way into open fields and rolling hills layered in knee high grass and night flowers. Around him, deer frolicked, having known neither fear of man nor the danger of the creature that had wandered into their home. He slowed his pace, breathing in the cool night air and gazing up into the skies, taking in the beauty the night graced them with. He was slightly put off by the fact that there was only one moon, but it was easy to cope with given it was as large as Masser and Secunda combined. “The night is glorious,” he whispered, removing his shield and laying it on the ground, following it with his sword before falling backwards onto the rise of a low hill. He wedged his hands behind his head, staring at the stars aimlessly. An hour almost passed like this, Kerik watching the stars turn and the moon sail across the sky, deer grazing not ten feet from him and the sounds of Nightingales singing until a muffled voice caught his attention. He cast a spell to increase the sound, waiting in silence before letting the magic fade from his concentration. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds that surrounded him, having not been able to relax in full since he was a child. Then the voice was back. Kerik sat up quickly, looking around for who or whatever was talking. He cast a spell of Night Eye, observing everything around, spying trees and birds, bugs and deer… even a few wolves in the distance. But unless deer could talk on this world as well, there was no one around he could see. He was about to lay back down when he heard the flapping of wings, large one too. Kerik rolled over his sword and shield, clutching them both and rising to a low crouch to face whatever beast was heading his way. The sound of the creature passing overhead caused him to turn on the balls of his feet, facing the direction it had gone. He waited, crouched and ready to fight. The sounds of the flapping drifted away, as if it had not noticed him. Kerik sheathed his sword, setting off after the creature quickly. He followed his ears, unable to see the beast even with his enhanced sight. He continued against the slight breeze, following downwind of the creature to a copse of trees nearly a mile from where he had started. He drew his sword, stalking into the trees and light undergrowth until he came upon a clear stream. The stream flowed into and out of a small pond, two large black and white fish, as he had never seen, swimming in the center. He stayed at the perimeter of the clearing the pond had demanded, hiding in the ferns and night-blooming flowers as he searched for the creature. He had heard it land in the trees minutes before, now all he had to do was wait. Kerik heard the voice again, this time clearer, closer. He listened silently, the voice sounding calm and melodic, as if it was singing. Soon he was able to make out words, and indeed, whatever it was, was singing. He searched the area before him, checking every boulder, every tree and every stand of tall grass and bush. He froze as he saw a pair or slightly glowing and vividly azure eyes. The eyes moved out of the trees on the opposite side of the pond, the figure of Luna revealing herself from the shroud of shadows that had encompassed her, singing a melody that sent a chill through Kerik. Now let the day, just slip away, So the dark night may watch over yooou, Velvet blue, silent true-oooo, It embraces, your heart and, your so-oh-oh-whoa-l… Nocturne… Never cry, never sigh, You don't have to wonder why, Always be, always see, Come and dream the night with meee… Nocturne… Luna stalked the glade like a goddess, animals of all sizes and appetites gathering nearby at the sound of her melody, bowing before her as if they understood a mild manner of her power among mortals. Kerik found himself fighting his body, forcing himself to stay hidden in the ferns in the stead of following her, trying to get closer to the heavenly sound of her song. Have no fear, When the night draws near, And fills you with dreams and desire, Like a foal asleep so warm, so deep, You will find me, there waiting, for yooou… Nocturne… We will fly, claim the sky, We don't have to wonder why, Always be, always see, Come and dream the night with meeee-heeeee-heeEEE!... Noh-ha-ooctuuuuuurne. She walked around the pond smoothly, stepping delicately over flat-stones in the shallow stream, nearly gliding over the short grass to the edge of the pond, bowing her head as the two fish swam to face her, seeming to listen to her song from the water. Though darkness fades, it will give way When the dark night delivers the daa-eeeh-aaay No-octuuurne… Her head rose from the ground slowly, her eyes closed and her ears perked high as she sniffed the air delicately, smirking to herself. “I know you are there Kerik,” she said softly, sitting on the grass and closing her wings against her sides. Kerik blinked in surprise, taking a breath before choking on the lung full he had held since he had arrived at the glade. He released his pent up breath slowly, half to seem decent, and half to steady his racing heart and trembling form, standing carefully and taking a step from the shadows. A glance around told him that the animals had fled at his presence, the break in the treetops flooding the area with luminous moonlight. The sound of Luna giggling brought his attention to her, the Alicorn tapping her hoof against the ground next to her. “Sit, please,” she said kindly, seeming a different person than he had met just that day. “What was that,” he asked as he walked to her side slowly, taking a seat on the soft mat of grass. “The song… I have never heard anything like it.” Luna nodded slowly twice, plucking a bellflower with velvet black petals with her hoof. “It is a song that I was given by the Gods when I was granted control over the moon and stars,” she said quietly, smelling the flower as gently as if it were made of powder, a light blush painting the top of her muzzle as she smiled. “The night can be a lonely place, so they showed me mercy. The song can bring joy to the most basic of minds, and draws any creature near me from five hundred strides away…” She whispered something, breathing on the flower and turning its petals into the deepest sapphires. “It affected you because of your gift, the melody keeping you from sleep and driving you to find the source.” She reached the gem flower to Kerik, the nord taking it, catching the smell of Magnolia’s from the Summerset Isles and cool blueberry mead. Kerik set the flower aside, giving her a wary look from years of encounters with certain hunting parties. “You know about my curse?” he asked her, Luna beginning to nod before her eyes widened. “Curse,” she asked, not believing he had said the word. “Kerik to be granted to powers of an animal is a gift I can only dream of having! Any warrior would revel in the chance to be like you. The increase in agility, speed and endurance. The strength to tear a wall apart with you bare hooves… erm… hands…” She sighed at the thought, her war-born personality flooding through her regal front. “It seems like a dream that anypony could have your abilities,” Kerik shook his head furiously, objecting from the start. “You have no comprehension of what I am afflicted with,” he said. “While I am Werekin, I cannot help but revel in the destruction and death I wreak upon those I face, but when it is all over, and I am man again, the scene is something I would not wish on anything,” He leaned back onto the grass, staring up at the stars again. “The lust for blood can get to unbearable amounts some days, and even the strongest will must give in to the instinctual thirst eventually. And the longer you hold it in, the worse it will be when you finally do lose control.” He sighed, tilting his head back to look at her. “You do not want this.” Luna barked a laugh, looking down at him with a mischievous expression. “Think you to assume what I wish,” she asked rhetorically. She sighed, hanging her head slightly in resign. “It matters not though. The grace of the gods keeps me in perfect health for all of time, lest blade or poison take me. And even if I could, I doubt they would smile upon a Were being the harbinger of night.” They remained silent for what felt like hours, the position of the stars telling them it had only been minutes before she spoke again. “Do you like the night sky?” Kerik looked at her again, rolling onto his stomach and lifting himself into a sit. “Yes, it’s beautiful,” He looked back up at the moon, wishing he could find the constellations from Nirn again. “Why do you ask?” Luna shrugged, kicking a pebble into the pond, causing the pair of fish to swim away, returning shortly and continuing their dance. “Not many ponies do,” she said in a rather defeated tone. “I am the giver of night on this world, and it is my responsibility to make it as beautiful and peaceful as possible. Each night I brighten the most distant stars to allow the ponies to admire them as I do, but they choose to sleep through the masterpiece I orchestrate. Some even fear the night, as if they think that the dark sky will harm them; that my night would harm them…” She reached a hoof to her face, wiping a tear from her eye. ‘Perhaps she knows how I feel about being like I am…’ Kerik thought, watching the once stone solid mare breakdown before him. He laid his shield aside, sliding up beside her and wrapping his arms around her neck in a comforting embrace. “There there… Come now, I’m sure their fear is just of the dark.” Luna pushed her face into the fur of his armor, crying onto his shoulder. “It is a fear we all feel from when we were all wild animals. I’m sure they think nothing of the sort.” He stroked her mane as she confided in him, shushing quietly as she wet his shoulder with tears. … Kerik pushed off from the ground, his body upturned and leaning against the wall. He counted as he pushed off and eased down, exercising his bare arms and chest to keep them in peak condition. “Seventy…four… Argh! Seventy…Five… ugh… Seventy si-ix…” Sweat drenched his hair and body, the brine shining in the sunlight of the open courtyard. He was wearing his greaves and steel boots, the heaviest wearable items he owned, having donned them after his one hundred mark in just his woolen pants. He stopped at the crest of the eighty-mark push, watching a quartet of deep blue legs walk up to and stop before him. He looked down his chest, up into the face of Luna. “War-maiden,” he said, pushing eighty-one. “What brings you out on such a bright day?” He smiled in strained amusement, getting a smirk from her. “Oh I thought I would take a walk,” she said, watching him test his limits. “See the… sights…” she added with a blush scan of his detailed and flexing muscles. “Tell me, why are you doing this?” Kerik laughed, falling onto his shoulders and tumbling backwards to rise to kneel. He panted, shaking his arms and wobbling slightly as the blood drained from his head. “Keeps me strong,” he said, sitting on the grass and leaning against a stump. “So if I need to go hand to hand with a dragon I can. So if you need someone to carry you back to the castle at dawn I can lend two arms.” Kerik chuckled as Luna blushed, casting him a “don’t you dare” expression. Kerik waved a hand, metaphorically banishing the thought. “So what news do you bring me,” he asked. “It seems to be the system that when information is received regarding dragons you all send it to me,” he picked up a waterskin, quaffing down the liquid quickly as Luna spoke. “Well if you want to know, the advanced forces have sent a message by falcon.” Kerik raised an eyebrow, silently inquiring as to the contents of the letter. “They have noticed the dragon forces have upped their armaments on the border. They have added Ballistae, more cannons, have been adding metal armor to their barricades and have doubled the forces they have garrisoned there.” Kerik nodded, already working out how to get around those obstacles in his head. “Also, unrelated to dragon activity, the griffins have cast their lot with Discord in hopes to be left out of his wrath as he nears their borders, and the Entians have declared that they cannot aid us due to dragon raids on the supply routes they use, both on sea and land. The tribes have responded to my sister’s request for aid by saying they will assist when Discord threatens their land and lives. And still no word from the Shadeskaul.” Kerik nodded, the information only registering half way in his head as he worked out strategies for the planned offensive. “Also,” Kerik perked up now, looking at her as he finally emptied the skin. “The recruitment list says that the rally has worked. Apparently, the city-states do not like to be called cowards. They all have increased their training regimen for existing guards and militia, and have had nearly a third of their populations join the army respectively,” Kerik froze for a second, baffled that his tirade had worked so well. “You did it,” she said with a grin. “We’re going to the front lines!” Luna bounced on her hooves, the promise of gore bringing glee to her young mind. Kerik simply nodded, steeling himself for the future to come and preparing to be called for the war meeting. … The week dragged by, the feeling of war readiness wearing heavily on Kerik’s mind and body, the nord wearing a minimum of leather armor at all times save his self allotted down-time. He assisted in the war preparations wherever he could, cutting shields and forging weapons and barding. As he had helped them, Kerik began to feel more accepted, the stares and sideways glances having all but ceased in Baltimare. Ponies would nod to him, greet him and offer him help or ask for it from him. He learned names, addresses and even the occasional chip of gossip. On the seventh day of the week, something that had never happened to him in his life was presented to him. A couple had been gifted with a child, a colt, and they brought it before him. “You want me to do what?” he asked, baffled they would even ask him. He was an outsider, nothing special to their lives despite being the savior of Nirn; his far away home world. “Give him a blessing, sir,” the stallion repeated. “His body is weak, and the doctors believe he won’t make it through the winter. I know they are just words, but perhaps the thought alone could help.” The stallion gave him a sad smile, knowing the child was doomed without constant medical attention. Kerik took the foal the stallion handed him, cradling the infant as he would a child of man. The foal twitched in his sleep, cooing lightly as Kerik tucked a stray corner of his blanket away. He always had a weakness for children, going out of his way several times to save them from dragon breath or other lethal dangers. He could not turn the stallion's plea away, deciding to do as only he could in this world, and bestow the child strength with the power of The Voice. “I will,” he finally said. “I will bless your young, but I must be outside the city, away from those that could be harmed unintentionally.” The stallion nodded. “If you would allow it, I would like to take you child,” Kerik looked around the horizon, finding a mountain not too far away, an outcrop offering him an airy perch. “There,” he pointed to the mountain, the Stallions face flickering with fear quickly. “It is far enough that the townsfolk will not be harmed if I go askew.” The stallion hesitated, thinking over the dangers, risks and precautions that should be made, reluctantly agreeing. Kerik prepared to climb the mountain, having negotiated Luna into carrying the child to the outcrop by air as he climbed. She agreed, with much complaining, but the deed was done, and as Kerik looked down the cliff face, he began to regret his decision. “Why did you decide this was a good idea,” he muttered to himself, grunting as he climbed the bluff, grunting as he pulled himself up with hand and foot holds. “Is it some form of entitlement you feel for being the Dovahkiin?” She shook his head, shrugging as he rested on a small ledge. “No,” he said, turning around and looking over the plains before him. “It’s because the damned thing was so cute, and you can’t resist a child in danger.” He resumed his ascent, reaching the outcrop he had in mind within the hour. Pulling himself over the lip he lay on his chest, panting heavily from the challenge overcame before standing and walking to the small spike of rock. The precarious perch gave him an awe-inspiring view, finally seeing that the area around him was much like Whiterun Hold. The plains rolled with hills, pockmarked with small patches of wood and ponds, streaked with streams and filled with life of all predispositions. He sat on his heels, watching a pair of mountain cats stalking a herd of deer, making bets against himself as to which deer would become their meal as he waited for Luna to bring the foal. She arrived as the cats made their choice, Kerik losing his wager to himself as they took their kill. “Why are you doing this again,” Luna asked him, giving him the child swaddled tightly in warming wrappings. Kerik took the bundle of blankets, exposing the foals face and ears so the voice would affect him fully. He had no idea if his experiment would work, but something in his gut dashed his doubts against the ground as they arose. “Because I am a protector,” he said, walking toward the point of the ledge. “Because this life has not had a chance to live, and I do not wish to see any living thing end so soon.” He stood on the precipice of a deadly fall, holding the child out at eye level. “Stay back,” he said to Luna. “I have no idea what I am doing.” He cast a smile over his shoulder, Luna responding in kind as she landed upon the cliff top. Kerik returned to the child, concentrating on the Thu’um and all the language lessons he had taken from Paarthunax, weaving the Dragon Tongue into an intricate and powerful spell. He began, the normally quiet voice he possessed becoming a rock-shaking roar. “Zu'u enfan amiv hi mul wah krif naan paal, wah neilaas munax ahrk buruk laas, ahrk mindah tol nii vis nunon gepruz. Zu'u hind hi lingrah ahrk joyous laas, voth lokaal, voth ragnavir, ahrk pogaan zeymahzin naal hin reid zeim zok buruk sul ahrk zok lingrah vulon. Aal Kaan lingraav avok hi, ahrk aak hi voknau hin wundaak. ” He finished his chant, a stream of energy flowing from him and to the foal, swirling around the newborn infant and causing him to glow with a radiant golden light. As the light faded and the air grew still once more, Kerik felt the toll the voice had placed upon him, the nord stumbling back from the edge before falling to the ground, the child sheltered in his arms against his chest as he landed on his back. Luna became tense as he fell; rushing to his side to make sure the child was unharmed. Kerik handed the foal up to her, Luna taking the infant in her hooves before gasping in surprise. “K-Kerik… What did you do?” she asked in astonishment. Kerik shook his head to clear the fog that had settled in his mind, standing carefully, if a little unsteadily, his eyes widening slightly as he beheld the effects of his prolonged Thu’um. The blanket’s had been shifted by the force of the shout, but what was different was the foal. What had once been an underweight infant had now become what seemed to be a child, near the age of five or six summers. He was hearty and hale, deep in sleep from the tax the spell had taken from his form. Upon his flank was the image of crossed axes, a helmet the likes of the generals of the Empire wore. as Kerik stood, the child woke, squinting from the light of the sun as it tried to make sense of the figures in its vision. "Kolos Zu'u?" It spoke, to the bewilderment of them both. ""Fos los hin faan?" … A crowd of ponies had gathered around the city square, forming a mass of horns, wings and hooves that focused on the tall man carrying a bundle of light blue blankets. The ponies murmured as he walked through them, following the main path to the center of the city. The man reached the square, a pair of ponies, a mare and stallion, walking up to him with hopeful eyes and resigned faces. Kerik looked from the bundle in his arm to the couple, then back to the bundle, smiling as the swaddled for shifted restlessly. The mare burst in to joyous tears, thanking all of the gods and the man before her, and moving to take the child. However their expression of joy shifted to one of surprise as the bundle overturned, the child tumbling out and landing on his hooves, looking over the crowd with an air of judgement as if gauging the strength of each body. "Drem yol lok monah," He said, smiling at the pair. "Drem yol lok Bormah." He cleared his throat. "I am... Well, thanks to the Dovahkiin." Author's Note Yeah, there it is. I can write it up pretty fast if I have as much downtime as I've had, but don’t get used to it. So the song Luna sang is called Nocturne by Celtic Woman, look it up on YouTube, because that is exactly how it needs to be heard. ~~The Dragon language blessing is actually my own work, having found an online dictionary from Bethesda. They included a little of the phrasing process used in the sentences, but here is what it is supposed to mean…~~ So! Hit the comment section below, and if you’re new, rate it 20% cooler or Neighsayer. Doesn't matter to me if you hate, because that only brings more ponies in to see for themselves. :P PEACE! AedanRyche EDIT NOTES: I decided to fix some of the cringe in this story while I'm writing the newer chapters. I retconned making the child and alicorn, because what the fuck was edgy younger me thinking, right? these changes set me up for a story arc, and a returning character for Act 3. I took to the legacy translator on Thuum Dot Org for this, because it reads in a more 'atmospheric' appropriate way. Heres what the Dovazul (Dragon Speak) says. "Who are you?" "What are you called?" "Greetings Mother. Greetings Father" Drem Yol Lok, literally Peace Fire Sky, is the greeting of Dragons in TES. so any form of greeting should be that phrase, for anyone who wants to nit pick that. I also reworked the blessing using the Legacy Translator. heres the transcript of the English version "I bestow onto you strong to fight any foe, to survive cruel and hard life, and knowledge that it can only improve. I wish you long and joyous life, with love, with family, and many companion by your side through most hard day and most long night. May Kyne watch above you, and guide you upon your journey." Act 1 Capter 1: A New World, With Old Rivals...'By Ysmir,’ The Nord thought as he stared down upon theshattered remains of Akatosh's first born. 'Skyrim is safe once more.' The man stood tall amongst the mists of Sovengarde, though his body bespoke of exhaustion as he held his war hammer loosely. Though the battle had filled him with vigor and adrenaline, his muscles and bones screamed for rest. He had been on the path of the ominous beast of Prophecy for six weeks, never halting save to buy a new horse and refresh his provisions and armor. Once he had reached Sovengarde he faced Alduin for the final time, tearing away at his life with the Thu'um until nothing but a quivering husk of the past was left, pleading for him to show mercy and spare his life. The man had simply smiled at the creature before digging the claw of his hammer into its jaw and using the Thu’um to blast its skull away. “Talos, I am tired,” the man said, hoping his god could hear him amongst the thousands of others. “Your warrior is tired, and his life grows weaker by the day. I wish no longer for battle, Talos. I wish for the life mine father owned, one of land and growth. But if I return to Skyrim they will wish me to lead armies against the Elves, to ride Nightmares into the fray and lay waste to mine brothers.” The warrior dug the head of his hammer into the misty ground, dropping to his knees. “Your serf wishes you grant him peace in life, for my time is not at hand. A life of rest and industriousness for the tried hero.” The Nord reached into a pouch on his waist, withdrawing an idol of Tiber Septim. He placed the statuette on a stone before him, removing his helm and bowing before it. The ground below him shook, sudden and violently, the warrior retrieving his now fallen statuette and depositing it in a pouch before standing to run. He donned his helmet, using one of the horns as leverage and retrieving his hammer before turning around to make his way back to where he had entered Sovengarde. But something had changed… All around him the scape* had changed, the misty cliffs and towers, hazy forms of people and animals had faded away, being filled with the precipice of a bluff and white nothing. Fog rolled around him, coiling around his limbs before being pulled over the edge and into the void beyond. There was a sound amongst the shuddering of the earth, a sound like the growl of a massive creature. And then… There was a voice… A voice like no other. A voice that commanded respect and fealty, which was filled to overflow with power and wisdom. And the voice spoke to him, slow and deliberate as if it had not spoken for and eternity. “Thou hast done Skyrim a great service, Kerik of Windhelm,” the voice said, pausing after each word as the fog in the void moved around a massive form without definition. “And in death this service would have granted a welcome of kings upon thine arrival to Sovengarde. But alas, your time is not now, nor even close at hand.” A hand formed in the fog, reaching out to Kerik and resting on the bluff. “You pray of me peace, but this I cannot give. Mine people have abandoned me, be it at the hand of Elves and those who oppose the empire I formed to keep peace upon Nirn.” A face and torso formed in the fog as it rolled away, revealing the god Talos; Tiber Septim himself. “I cannot grant you peace on this world, but another awaits your arrival. Step onto my hand, Son of Skyrim, brother of mine.” Kerik hesitated, looking at Talos, then the gods hand before doing as he was told. Talos lifted Kerik before him, looking up and turning around before returning his view to him. “I can find only one world that may hold the peace you seek,” he said. Kerik felt something latch onto his breastplate, the force lifting him from Talos’ hand and into the air. “But this world is at war. This war will engulf their world in flames lest an end is found, a means of defeating a principal manifested.” Kerik found Talos had pinched his armor with two giant fingers, now swinging him around as the god turned. “You wish for peace, but I learned that peace must be won. You must fight for your peace Kerik, fight hard and fight well. For once it is achieved you shall have the piece that you desire.” Talos closed his hand around Kerik, holding him gently but firm. He reached his arm behind himself, aiming at a bright light in the distance. Kerik could feel the panic taking hold, filling his chest with an aching throb. “There must be a better way than this,” he yelled, trying to make his small voice heard by the giant god. “You cannot truly think that throwing me from Sovengarde will finish the task.” Talos laughed quickly, looking back at the man once. “True,” he said, returning his gaze and taking aim once more. “But this is more fun. May their gods watch over you Kerik; this is where my influence ends,” Talos moved his arm forward at speed, Kerik screaming from adrenaline as he was released from his grasp and sent flying into nothing. ... “We are making no progress with that massive monster out there,” Commander Hurricane said as he viewed over the top of the battlements. An earth pony and unicorn in like colored armor nodded silently beside him, their eyes and stances equally as haggard as his. The three looked out over the two square mile wide battle field, bodies from both sides littering the ground near the middle. “Something has to give, and soon. Don’t you agree Princess Platinum?” the unicorn nodded, her blackened and dented armor clinking together lightly. “Yes, we must find a way to bring the beast down before we can make a charge,” she said. “Else this battle will continue until our forces are utterly decimated. Do you have any ideas Chancellor Puddinghead?” the earth pony to her right took a further pensive look, racking his brain for some sort of tactical solution. “None that do not require a massive loss of ground and forces,” he said with a shrug. “Although we could send in our Dark Knight. She would be more than happy to fix this problem for us, but her sister would never allow it.” A trapdoor opened behind them the sounds of two pairs of hooves resonating out as two winged and horned ponies walked out. “You would be correct, chancellor. Luna shall not be permitted to fight further until she has fully recovered from her injury.” The white Alicorn stood tall and regal, though her eyes betrayed the fatigue her body felt. A midnight blue Alicorn, of slightly smaller stature, glared at the former, taking up an aggressive posture. “I am no foal, sister,” she heatedly argued. “I can still fight. That sword barely nicked my flesh. It is well enough in my opinion to permit battle.” The white Alicorn glared back, coming face to face with her sister Luna. “And the healer said your stitches are still too fresh to withstand the actions or battle!” The Alicorn tossed her mane out of her face. “Besides, I doubt even we could best that,” She pointed over the lip of the battlements to a hundred foot tall dragon. The behemoth laid waste to siege engines and squadrons of troops with swipes from its tail and the slightest wave of a clawed foot. The seven hundred foot long wingless dragon released a torrent of fire from its maw, a guttural laugh rumbling across the bodies and trenches from its throat. “I can only hope we can hold it off long enough to escape before they summon forth another!” Luna simply scoffed at her sister’s remark, only having glanced at the beast she had spent the last week plotting against. “It’s a dragon Celestia, not an immortal being,” Luna retorted. “It has a heart, a mind and a Liver; you take one out of the equation and the other two fall as well.**” Celestia sighed, turning away from her battle born sister and to the matter at hand. Luna scowled after her, her horn glowing with a dark blue aura. A stone that would have tested the powers of the most trained unicorn lifted from the battlefield as she maneuvered it from afar. Ponies scattered as she moved the massive slab over the area. “If it will not travel then I will bring the mountain to it!” she yelled through the strain as Celestia stared at the power of her younger sister. “I did not face death in the trials of Olympus to be bested by a mortal beast!” she screamed as she dropped the stone from high above the dragon. The beast looked up as debris fell onto its face, seeing the three hundred metric ton slab falling towards him. “Is this the best you can do,” he yelled across the field as he raised his tail, battering the giant block like so many river stones. Luna screamed in frustration as the beast laughed at her, turning around to one of the archers and taking his bow and an arrow. “Calm yourself Luna!” Celestia yelled as her sister embedded a spell of piercing into the arrow, loosing the bolt over the field at an arc. The arrow came within a foot of the monster, the magic being dispelled by an unforeseen barrier before the shaft buried itself in the dragon’s scales. Luna blew a strand of her mane off of her muzzle, thrusting the bow back into the archers care before returning to a four legged stance. “I told you there was nothing we could do, and yet you persisted to strain yourself and break your stitches!” Luna huffed, reaching down and wetting her hoof in the small pool of blood that had formed underneath her ribs. “I’ll be fine,” she said passively, taking the bandage roll an archer held out and wrapping her chest in cloth. “The worst that could happen is that I will acquire a scar. Now if you are done bickering, do any of the tribe leaders have a solution?” The three ponies shook their heads, confirming her suspicions. “Then all we can do is hope the gods are on our side when it counts. I have no plan to fight this challenge, and unless she had chosen not to share I doubt my sister has one either.” The sound of canon fire blasted overhead, the ponies and dragon armies both turning their heads skyward, some locked in battle taking advantage of the distraction of their foe. Another loud explosion sounded overhead soon after, having this time caught the attention of the massive behemoth. Light bloomed above the field, painting the sky in a red light. “What are you doing sister?” Luna asked in a half dazed tone. Celestia shook her head, looking up at the light as well. “This is not my…” she was cut off, another explosion sounding as the light changed to blue. “…is not my work.” On the field, ponies and dragons alike were dropping weapons, bowing to the ground to pray forgiveness. Some fled back toward their respective sides while even more simply fled, leaving the battle with whatever they had on them. The ponies and dragon warriors continued to leave the field out of superstition or fear; the only ones remaining were the large dragon, an upright, winged dragon, a normal dragon in golden armor and a serpentine dragon. ... “These ponies think they can scare us away with light and sound, Thorn,” the large dragon rumbled as another explosion resounded above. The upright dragon sheathed his swords at his waist, looking into the sky. “I find their attempts to scare us a petty waste of magic,” Thorn said, his armor making a clamor as he laughed. “What do you think, Xiang? You know the most about magic here.” The serpentine dragon scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “This is, as Mammoth said, a futile attempt,” another boom sounded, the light turning a vivid violet as a dull roar filled the air. “There is nothing up there that could possibly harm us, I would have detected any magical attack long before it become as ominous as this looks.” The roaring continued to grow in volume, the golden armored dragon thinking as he blew a small stream of fire over his scaled claws. His eyes went wide suddenly, memories arising. “What if it isn't magical,” he proposed. “I remember this happening eight hundred years ago. You remember Mammoth, when that meteorite landed in the sea near our homeland.” The large dragon scoffed. “This is no meteor,” he said. “If you remembered correctly Draco, the sky was only orange until it landed, not violet.” Mammoth laughed at the sky, rearing up slightly. “You have to try harder than that to scare us away, Ponies!” he yelled at the battlements. Another explosion sounded above, this time much louder and seemingly closer. Mammoth looked up in time to catch a last look at a flaming ball of something careening towards him. ... “Get down!” Celestia screamed as the fireball came from the gray clouds, pulling her sister off of her hooves and under the lip of the wall. The large ball of flame careened down from the sky, Mammoth staring at it with full confidence it was a light trick until he could feel the heat. His face drained of expression, panic filling his chest before the ball made impact atop his skull. The dragon was driven into the ground jaw first, his large body lifting thirty feet from the ground as his head made contact with the stone under him. The other three dragons dove away as the fire swept over them, debris and chunks of Mammoth’s massive thirty foot long skull flying over the others. Thorn scrambled to his feet, looking around the cloud of smoke, dust and blood-mist for his companions. Beside him, lifeless and burnt, was Xiang. The serpentine and wingless mage having caught a large fragment of bone in his chest area, his heart impaled on the tip of the fragment that protruded from his back. Thorn called out to Draco, but noticed he could not hear his own voice. He touched the side of his head, feeling blood trickle out of his ear and over his claw. He called out again regardless, hoping his comrade could hear him. Draco rose to his feet slowly, looking back at where Mammoth had been flattened. All around him was dust, ash and blood, kicked up and vaporized by the impact. Draco wasn’t sure but he had a rather good idea of what happened when something was struck by a meteorite. “Mammoth, are you alive?” he called out, walking toward the large form in the haze. “If you are, say something.” He heard a mumbling sound. “Thank the gods; I had no idea if you could have… Survived the…” Draco trailed off as he came close enough to see Mammoth. His words were stolen by the state of his friend, his skull turned inside out and his eyes hanging by their nerves. “What are you?” Draco said as something stirred inside of Mammoth’s skull. It resembled Thorn, he was sure, but seemingly shorter and of a lighter color. The figure began to glow as a wind picked up, dust swirling around him as Mammoth’s corpse caught fire and the flames leapt around the figure. ... Kerik groaned as he awoke, having passed out during his freefall. He felt the ground beneath himself, although it felt soft, and he could smell the stench of a large scale battle. “Ow,” he rumbled in his throat, standing as he felt a wind begin to blow. “What are you!” a voice screamed, Kerik looking up and around quickly before drawing his hammer. His quick scan revealed that he was standing in what remained of a large dragon, one larger than he had ever seen. The beast was beginning to burn around him, the monstrous dragon’s soul flowing into him. Before the crushed snout of the beast was what looked like a dragon; this one having four legs and a pair of independent wings. The dragon was holding a spear at Kerik, its body clad in golden armor. ‘Dragons with weapons,’ Kerik thought. ‘This ought to be a joyous experience.’ He ran through the Shout words he had learned, quickly deciding on one. ... Celestia and Luna rose to their hooves, quickly finding where the dragon had been. In the center of a large dust cloud was a glowing figure brandishing a large hammer. “What in Tartarus is that,” questioned Commander Hurricane to Celestia and Luna. “This must be something of your doing, nopony else can control the heavens.” Celestia and Luna continue to stare as the dust began to clear, finding the figure to be standing on what remained of the monstrous dragons head. “Well that solves that problem.” Said Luna. “But a side is yet to be taken,” replied Celestia. “I believe the side is quite clear,” chimed Princess Platinum. “He literally crushed our most challenging opponent, what else but a gift from the Gods could this creature be?” “The Gods are fickle beings,” Celestia snapped. “Their wonders aren’t won with a single prayer.” She returned her view to the field, finding a single dragon threatening the creature with a spear. “Although loyalties can be won and lost with first impressions. Commander Hurricane,” Celestia ordered. “Gather a contingent of airborne troops to send to this creature’s aid, perhaps we can win an ally!” ... “What are you!!!?” Draco screamed at the creature standing on his fallen comrade. He lifted his spear towards the form's throat, holding it four feet below his own height. His blood ran cold as the figure raised a hammer into its hands. “Fus-Ro-Dah!” Kerik Roared, a wall of solid air forming before him and colliding with the dragon. The beast seemed to panic as the Shout was released, hurrying backwards before the force struck him. The dragon was thrown onto a spear jutting from the ground, the shaft passing effortlessly through his chest. “That was easy,” Kerik commented as the dragon sputtered his last breath. “Are these dragons impaired?” he questioned no one, looking around the field. All around him were fallen warriors, some dragons in armor and others seemingly fallen mounts. ... Thorn could see through the haze, finding the dust cloud to be spinning around a single, glowing figure as Mammoth’s corpse began to burn to bone. Before the figure was Draco, impaled on a spear and also alight as a golden energy began to flow to the figure from his body. “Stand and fight,” He demanded of the figure, drawing his blades and taking a stance. “Tell me who you are so I may inform the families of my friends their slayer.” The figure turned its head, looking at Thorn as it stepped out of Mammoth’s skull. The being was seemingly a dragon, but smelled nothing of it. Between the crevices of the beings armor were bare patches of pale pink flesh, under the rim of what Thorn took as a horned helmet shone locks of golden hair. “I am Kerik, Warrior of Windhelm and Dovahkiin,” the being said, hefting his hammer onto a shoulder with one hand. “And you shall not be leaving this battleground.” Thorn snarled at the being, baring his white fangs and raising his swords to defend himself. “Think you I am of such low caliber as to fall by a hammer,” Thorn bantered. “I shall have you in ribbons before you ready yo…” Thorn narrowly missed being struck with a thrust from Kerik’s hammer, dodging to the side and sweeping the shaft away with his swords. Metal struck metal, casting sparks as Kerik rushed toward Thorn, the dragon swinging down at the opponent with his offhand blade. Kerik deflected the cleaving motion with the haft of his hammer, bringing the fifty pound head up toward the dragon’s steel encased chest in a crushing slam. Thorn jumped back, attempting to dodge the blow and gain some distance to work with but was caught under the lip of his cuirass as Kerik twisted the hammer; bringing the claw on the end to bear. Thorn struggled against Kerik’s hold, pulling away but making no ground. He turned his blade around in his hand, bringing the point down. “Zun-Haal-Viik,” Kerik shouted as he saw the blade approaching, the Thu`um wrenching Thorn’s swords away from him. The dragon blinked once, noticing the fight was lost. Thorn kicked out, catching Kerik in the chest with enough force to knock him away as he released the straps of his cuirass. Thorn flipped back before landing, watching as his cuirass landed between the two competitors. “This isn’t over,” Thorn yelled, holding a claw up accusingly. “I will have revenge Kerik, mark my words!” Kerik watched as the dragon turned away, sprinting into the mist that had settled around the battlefield before taking wing and vanishing into the smoke that hung heavy over the skies. He raised his hammer over his head, slamming a gauntlet against his chest plate. Kerik loosed a war cry, celebrating his victory as the wisps of smoke that were disturbed by Thorn’s wings returned to the featureless blanket. He let his arm fall to his side, turning his hammer over and returning it to his back with his off hand. He turned around, searching for more foes before allowing his guard to fall. He walked the field, viewing the fallen bodies of the two sides. “You said I would have to fight for my peace,” Kerik said, unsure if Talos could hear him. “But you never mentioned who I am to fight or who to join!” He kicked the fallen form of a dragon, frustration filling him. “Laas-Yah-Nir,” He muttered, trying to find anyone with a morsel of life left. His vision changed, everything becoming darker around him as bodies took on auras. Most were black, lifeless clouds that clung to fallen warriors and horses like flies. But in the distance, about a hundred paces away, a body glowed with a dim blue light. He took to pace, running the distance quickly and dropping to his knees. He slid to a stop beside the life light, tearing off his helmet and releasing the Thu`um. Before him was the bleeding body of a horse, though it seemed all too small and much to like a thinking being. The small horse gasped for air, Kerik finding a gaping puncture hole in its ribs and covering it with his hand. The horse’s breathing eased greatly, the hollow gasps becoming ragged breaths filled with coughing. “Thank… you…” the horse said, nearly causing Kerik to flinch with surprise. “Thank you… for helping me…” The horse coughed heavily, blood spraying out of its mouth. “And for killing that monster of a dragon.” Kerik shook his head, adding pressure to the horses wound. “Easy, be easy,” Kerik coaxed, deciding to treat the talking beast like a fellow warrior rather than an animal. “Where are your allies?” He asked, getting a twitch of the head from the horse towards a ramshackle battlement in the distance. Kerik turned his head to the battlements, calling on the power of the Voice. “I need help,” he called, the Thu`um carrying his voice farther than it could under the best of circumstances. “One of your charges is wounded. Send a healer, quickly.” Kerik turned back to the horse, noticing his breathing had become more labored. “What is your name, warrior?” Kerik asked. “M-my name… is Lance…” the horse said before falling into a fit of coughing. “Silver Lance…” Kerik nodded, looking back to the battlements to find winged creatures of multiple colors taking off from its parapets; flying towards them. ‘Good,’ Kerik thought. ‘They heard me.’ He returned his attention to Silver Lance. “Where are you from?” Kerik asked. The horse let out a slight laugh, following the humor with a deathly cough. “What does it matter to you,” Lance asked innocently. “You would not know it.” Kerik shrugged. “In my culture, a warrior’s last thoughts should be of home.” The pony looked up at him, having accepted his fate long ago. “It eases the passing.” Lance laughed in full now, staggering his humor with rasping, blood filled coughs. “Would you help ease my passing,” Lance asked, receiving a nod as he nudged a dagger by his side with a hoof. “I am from Seaddle. It’s a small village on the western edge of the continent.” He continued to talk, his voice becoming weaker by the word. Kerik listened as he grasped the dagger awkwardly, finding the cuff best suited for being filled with a hoof rather than a hand. “My family has been there for generations.” Lance’s eyes became distant as Kerik placed the tip of a dagger between the plates of the ponies armor. “I was sweet on a filly from the neighboring village. I even asked to wed her of her parents, but that is not to be. Her family made wine from berries, Juniper I believe.***” Lance looked up into Kerik's eyes, resolve having set in. “It was burned to the ground by the dragons.” Kerik nodded, sinking the blade into the pony’s chest. Lance kicked once, the rest of his breath emptying slowly as his eyes closed. “May you be guided to Sovengarde, and have always a swift wind at your heels.” Kerik prayed, closing Lance’s eyes completely. Standing up, a wave of exhaustion fell over him, causing his knees to give way to the full weight of his armor. He caught himself with a hand as he fell, the blood muddied ground swallowing it whole. He looked up, finding several horses like Lance standing around him, each holding a spear in his direction but keeping their distance. He attempted to stand again, reaching his feet as a gray tunnel began to fill his vision. He staggered forward, taking a few steps before he fell, the ground catching his unconscious body. Author's Note You noticed those Asterisks next to words or phrases of dialogue/text. Those are there to be explained for later. You see, when I started this, I had a rather dim audience. They said I should use smaller words and the like. I decided to explain them instead. These are for the things even I found confusing, or context that not all will understand. *This is an explanation for an improper word. I say “Scape” because Sovengarde doesn’t have much land per say. **This is a reference to the movie Reign of Fire. Denton Van Zant says this in a different phrasing to the crowd around him, trying to persuade them to join him. *** This is a reference to Skyrim, where Ralof at the beginning talks of his past. EDIT NOTES: I decided to make some small alterations for the sake of making characters more relatable to us all as living beings with emotions, hopes and lives, and this chapter will get a full rework at some point but here you go.
Act 1 Chapter 2: Settling Into a New Land“What is it?” … “I’m not sure. It looks like a monkey*…” … “Is it dead?” “I’m…” Kerik mumbled, hearing the sound of things moving away from him. “I’m not… a monkey…” he could feel the air on his chest, as well as his feet; the light breeze chilling the sweat on his skin. “Water…” He croaked; his throat dry. He heard the sounds of hooves on stone leaving, returning quickly at the same pace. He could feel a waterskin pressed into his hand, which he closed around it. “Thank you…” he said before bringing the skin to his lips and releasing the kink he held into the material. The water flowed out into his mouth in large swallows, the tired Nord drinking all of it without spilling a drop. He let the bag fall from his grip, the soft material landing with a light thump as he pushed himself into an upright position. Looking around he noticed more of the horse creatures that resembled the ones on the battlefield, save for these having weapons in reach or attached to them. Around him were three of the creatures, each differing slightly from actual horses. One seemed to be a horse of very small stature, the other having a pair of wings and the last having a horn atop its head. He shook off the questions buzzing in his mind, deciding to ask the important ones; starting with… “Where am I?” The creatures looked at him, strange and confused expressions hanging to their flesh while the spark of fear blazed in their eyes. The first to speak was the one with the horn. “You are in Equestria,” the creature spoke in a feminine voice accented like an Imperial’s. “Home of the ponies and future kingdom of the Unicorn Empire.” The one with wings next to her bowed up, facing her with rage on its face. “Unicorn Empire my flank,” The creature spoke, its voice gruff and deep. “This is the soon to be Pegasus Commonwealth!” The last one spoke up, their voice rather neutral but still male. “Stop your petty argument,” he said. “It’s pointless to argue over ownership when we all know it shall be the Earth Pony Confederacy.” The three fell into intense argument at this point, Kerik giving them a blank stare as they fought amongst themselves. ‘Maybe I'm fighting the wrong enemy,’ He thought, sighing audibly. The three began to elevate in volume, each trying to yell over the other, as two more of the creatures walked into the room. These two were different, each having both the horns and wings while also being the size of a good draft horse. One of the two was white, glowing and held itself with an air of eminence and nobility. The other was a deep blue, its stance one more suited for combat or dueling. It seemed to have an air of ominous force, like a storm brewing on the coast and about to break over a mountain with all the force it could muster. As if he had predicted the future, the blue creature walked up behind the three arguing ponies, a deadpan expression coating its face for three seconds before it reared up and struck out at the group, landing a punch on each of their muzzles in one stroke. “What are you three thinking,” she scorned in a deeper feminine voice, anger painting her stance now. “This is the first contact this being has with the entirety of our race and you fall back into your petty squabbles! I have had enough of hearing your ever-changing forms of government! Be cooperative with each other or I shall have you all flogged for naught but stupidity!” the pony's body language and expression remained threatening as she looked over the three, relaxing and becoming passive again as she stepped toward Kerik. “My apologies, War Master,” She said, bowing slightly. “These ponies are usually the only ones that do not cooperate. May I be the first to welcome you to our home of Equestria, soon to be under sovereign ownership of the entire,” she said deliberately, casting an angry glare back at the three ponies. “Species of ponies and ponies alone. I am Luna. May I ask your name, War Master?” “Kerik of Windhelm,” he said, looking over the room. It resembled a keep from Skyrim, but built to different proportions. “Where am I?” he asked, noting the banners that were flying. Each one had a figure emblazoned before a graphic design, the figure resembling one of the three, still arguing, creatures. “You are in the city of Baltimare,” the white horned and winged pony said, walking up to him. “It is around fifty kilo-strides from the battlefield you arrived in.” Kerik gave her a confused glance, getting a slightly sheepish look from her. “A stride as nearly your height on a lateral movement. Just say that for us at a gallop it takes about one hour to cover.” Kerik nodded, understanding striking him. “Pardon my lack of hospitality. I am Celestia, controller of the sun. This is my sister Luna, controller of the moon.” She bowed slightly, trading royal niceties. “We should thank you for your un-requested assistance.” “Assistance?” Kerik asked in honest confusion, not knowing what he had done. “I don’t recall helping you in any way, only killing a few dragons and not having the strength to chase the one that escaped.” Celestia chuckled slightly, shaking her head. “That is how you helped us,” she explained. “You see, we are at war with an idea manifested. Discord, as he calls himself, is corrupting the world as he sees fit and destroying the natural order. He is a malevolent force, ruining the land, tainting the skies and poisoning the waters. He takes ponies and other beings of Equestria and unmakes them, recreating them as he wishes them to be and inflicting endless pain on all within his reach. And I fear that reach is ever expanding.” Celestia sighed and turned around to face the arrow slit in the wall. “Every week, Discord can affect farther and farther from his hold on Cavalry Hill**. Now the Dragons have sided with him, and even those we once thought allies, the Griffins, have turned upon us. The only free species besides us that remain are the Entians, Tribal Buffalo and the Shadeskaul. The tribes will not have a part in our war, and the Shadeskaul are pacifists that live on the frozen seas.” Celestia took on a look of sadness, slouching slightly and looking off to the side. “Enough, sister,” Luna said in a not-too-unkind tone. “This talk does you no good, only bringing you pain and sorrow.” Celestia nodded slightly, obviously unconvinced but trusting her sister’s advice. “We have yet to make a statement to the public,” Luna said, looking toward Kerik. “On the battle, I mean. Undoubtedly, the ponies of the Free Republic are eager to hear about the victory, even at the cost of loved ones.” She turned and gestured to a large chest against the wall. “We have your armor stored in there,” she said. “When you wouldn’t wake, we removed it to allow our healers past the wards they contain, but it seems that you need no healing. You may join us at the keep gates once you finish dressing if you wish.” Luna led her sister out of the room, staying behind the bickering trio of ponies to keep them moving as the guards took their own exits. Kerik waited for the sounds of hooves on stone to diminish to the monotony of traffic before standing from the table. The blanket that had once covered his legs fell to the ground, the cold air hitting his skin like a knife and causing a shiver to run through him. ‘It must be the middle of Hearthfire here,’ Kerik thought as he walked to the chest. He opened the trunk, kneeling down and removing six rather heavy pieces of armor, holding the helmet in his hand after setting the others aside. He stared into the Daedric piece, his reflection gleaming on the polished black horns. The item reminded him of the head of a dragon, and that was exactly why he had kept it from the dungeon he cleaned out. He had been paid handsomely for his efforts, but nothing amounted to the worth of the full set of armor he had found. ‘This may not leave a good first impression on them,’ he decided, remembering the appearance of the dragon he had tangled with. He laid the helmet next to the other pieces, reaching for his pack. He lifted the framed leather sack, opening the tie on the top and digging through poultices, potions and food until he felt something soft. Withdrawing his hand, clutched in his fist, was a set of clothes; black leather boots, tan leggings and a red and yellow tunic. … Kerik closed the door to the room behind himself, turning back to the fore and tying an Elven sword and Glass dagger to the belt around his waist. He sighed, running a hand through his hair to pull it out of his face before nodding to the pony guard that was stationed outside the room. “Everything is in order sir?” the pony asked, a smile painted on his muzzle underneath the Imperial style helmet he wore. Kerik simply nodded to the pony, still unnerved by the fact that they talked. It was not the strangest thing he had experienced, but it was definitely among the top twenty. “Very good,” the pony said. “I am Ridge Runner, and I am to help you find your way around the keep and the rest of the city. My orders are to take you to the gates if you wish. I must say that Celestia and Luna would highly appreciate it if you do.” Kerik looked down the hall to the right, then to the left before returning his vision to Ridge Runner. “How highly,” Kerik asked, raising an eyebrow. Ridge runner smirked, nodding up the corridor before setting off. “It would be up there sir,” Ridge runner said. “Somewhere between gifts and a kiss, though I doubt you would get one from Celestia. She may just be the most prudish pony in existence. But Luna…” Ridge Runner chuckled mischievously. “I’ve heard some of the stories that float around the barracks about those she calls to her quarters. And not just the stallions,” he gave Kerik a wink, causing him to laugh slightly. “So you want to go to the Gates then?” he asked. “Only if the kitchen is in the other direction,” Kerik said. “I don’t want to walk farther than I have to right now. Being unconscious is not the same as sleeping.” “Then you are in luck,” Ridge runner said. “The kitchen is on the way. We will only have to take a small detour.” He directed Kerik towards a left fork, guiding him deeper into the halls along the counter clockwise curve. “Since it is between meals, you will probably only be able to get bread and milk. Those are always up for the taking. Ale is one bit a pint and Mead is two bits a flagon.” Ridge Runner opened a wooden door, the smell of cooking food wafting out and causing Kerik’s mouth to water. “Mead sounds divine right now,” Kerik said, walking in and waiting for the pony. “Sure wish I had some of your money. But all I have are these Septims,” Kerik reached into a pouch at his waist, pulling out a few of the inch and a half wide gold coins. “By the gods,” Ridge Runner exclaimed as he looked over the coins. “Is that one coin or something like fifty silver pieces?” Kerik held up a finger, getting a gasp out of the pony. “That’s worth at least seven bits in just gold alone. How many do you have?” Kerik added up the math in his head, coming out with seven-hundred thousand bits. “That is fragile information that could ruin our budding relationship,” he said, giving the pony a playful smirk and a wink. “Come, I’ll buy you a flagon or two.” ... “Yesterday, we achieved a great triumph,” Celestia said from the steps of the fortress, the gathered crowd cheering at her words. “Our losses were great, but through the sacrifice we were able to rout the largest Dragon offensive yet. Now we can take the fight to them, on their own land! We have pushed them back from our borders, and they are frightened by our force!” The ponies gathered cheered again, roaring praise for her, chants of her name filing the crowd. Celestia let the praise soak in for a moment, raising her hoof to call for silence. “However, we would have not won save for one being.” Someone in the crown yelled her and her sister’s name, another yelling the name of his or her war god. “No, I must admit that not even I or my sister could defeat their advance force, and it was not divine intervention.” She turned around, beckoning to something unseen. The ponies gasped as a creature. more than two meters tall, walked up to the podium, a gilt sword at its waist and garbed in deep blue clothes. Its hair was the color of sunlight, its skin as pale as snow. “This is Kerik, a warrior from another world. He fell from the sky to the battle, not knowing what was happening, raising his weapon in our defense against the dragons, slaying the largest warrior next to the Red King himself.” The crowd murmured at the sight of the human, one daring to ask the right question of whose side he was on. Celestia looked at Kerik, the Nord giving her a shrug. “Unfortunately, his side is yet to be determined, but I can tell you that his loyalties lie neither with evil nor the dragons. He is a being of worth, a warrior of honor and a creature of valor. He possesses power greater than many and a voice filled with a strength that can topple a wall.” One pony cried shenanigans and another cried farce. Kerik raised his hand, casting arcs of lightning to the sky. Thunder echoed around the area as the crowd went silent. “Because I haven’t chosen who to help does not mean I am weak,” He stepped down a stair, glaring into the crowd. “And the more I look the less of a choice I want to make. You are all cowards, the whole lot. Where I am from, when war came, there was not a man or woman that did not answer the Jarl’s call. Even children made their contributions by caring for the family trade in their parent’s absence.” He let his harsh words settle in, the edges sinking like daggers in their egos. He turned around, seeing a disapproving look from Celestia, Kerik simply smirking and giving her a wink. “What would you have us do,” A pony yelled from the background. “We have no training, no ability to arm ourselves! Would you have us fight with just our hooves, with no barding, no protection? I do not know about your world, but on ours, dragons breathe fire!” Kerik turned back to them. “Aye, they breathe fire in Skyrim. But also ice! They make the heavens rain flaming stones, and roar with a force that can topple castles!” A murmur rolled through the crowd. “That’s right. If you were to face Alduin, the Bane of Kings and Eater of Worlds, you would not survive.” He took another step down, the crowd backing up slightly. “If you rally, and answer the call to arms like my kinsmen do, then I will aid you, but until then, I will not raise my blade unless mine own life is threatened.” He placed his left hand on the pommel of his sword, turning and walking back to Celestia's side. “I’ll be inside should any dragons attack the city,” he said to her alone, turning and walking back through the doors. … “What were you thinking,” Celestia demanded, slamming her hoof down on the table, knocking a goblet of wine over. Two servers from the kitchen hurried over, cleaning the spill and refilling the cup. “Not only were you completely out of line, but you may have placed a target on our throats!” She slammed her hoof down again, a server lifting the cup before it struck. “You could have undone everything I have worked for in this city, and if word of your little soliloquy reaches the other cities of the Free Republic then we will lose the modicums of trust we have with the city-states, effectively neutralizing our combative force!” Across the table, Kerik sat in a chair that had been made to his requirements, his foot on the edge of the table and the chair balanced on its back legs. He sipped mead from a tankard, his demeanor calm and his face unchanging as he stared down the white horse. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Kerik drained the last of his drink, snapping his fingers. “More mead,” was all he said, holding out the cup as a server poured more honey-wine into it. He took a drink as the pony bowed and stepped back, lowering the mug and wiping his lips with a sleeve. Celestia guffawed at his blasé attitude, effectively dumbstruck and without words to express her rage toward him. Luna giggled slightly at her sister, falling into a gut hold as she continued to stay mouth agape and half-upright. “Calm sister,” she giggled. “And close your mouth, it is most unbecoming.” Celestia closed her jaw, glaring at Luna as if to set her on fire. “Look at it this way,” she said, waving a hoof to Kerik. “If this warrior can stare you down in the height of your scorn and anger, imagine what he has had to see and do. I could wager that this… Man, was it?” Kerik nodded, his tankard affixed to his lips like it had been cast there. “I could wager that he could take on an entire assaulting force by himself.” She sank into her cushion further, imagining the sight of the battle. “What I would give to be a part of the fray.” Kerik and Celestia both raised an eyebrow, looking at her as if she was a seven legged dog with one eye and four mouths. Luna woke from her daydream, noticing not only Kerik and Celestia, but Hurricane, Platinum and Puddinghead were all looking at her. “What? It would be a glorious fight…” Kerik shook his head and continued to enjoy his drink as Celestia took her turn to laugh, Luna’s muzzle blooming with a slightly brighter blue. “So Celestia,” Hurricane spoke up, setting his plate of food aside. “You mentioned attacking the Dragons on their own ground. Do you believe this to be truly possible? I mean no disrespect, but our friend here stated it quite plainly. We do not have the recruiting numbers we need to take the fight farther than our own borders.” Celestia was about to reply, but Kerik cut her off. “You have to rally more efficiently.” He said calmly, causing the room to turn and face him, confused by his sudden interest. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I'm surprised you all made it to this point.” He set his tankard down, picking up a plate and sliding it into the middle of the table, an ice sculpture of a dragons head dominating the small plate. “This plate is your forces, the sculpture is theirs.” He tossed several knives between the two, the tips sticking in the wood. “That is the border. Plates,” he called, snapping his fingers. Twenty small plates levitated to his side, Kerik taking several and placing them around near his side of the table. “Where do the bulk of your soldiers come from?” “Cloudsdale.”Commander Hurricane said, Kerik placing a plate forward of the others. “Baltimare,” another plate… “Buckingham,” Another… “And Eastpony.” Another plate. “The advance force is already at the border, correct?” Nods waved at him, Kerik moving the plates near the line of knives. “If you can rally an equal force from each of those cities, you could breach their border defense, using systematic and precise pressure from Siege engines and magicians. Each of these obstacles will fall, and you are free to move in.” He tossed the plates until they created a cal-de-sac with one exit for the sculpture. “Once there, you will fight them until they run, keeping them funneled toward their capitol city.” “You mean Cavalry?” Princess Platinum asked. “But that is the most heavily fortified city in their territory, there is no way we could get in.” Kerik ran a hand over his face, sighing through his nose. “With a name like Cavalry I would suspect it was once ruled by your kind,” The table nodded. Kerik waved his hands in the air. “Then there must be someone or something to tell you how to get in! Are you all stupid or just too stuck up in your nobility to see the answer before you?” The ponies recoiled at his remark, save Luna, who simply smiled and took a drink to hide it. “Who in their right mind would lead this suicide charge?” Commander Hurricane said, his resolve regained. “Certainly not me, I have not an urge to send ponies to their deaths.” Kerik tapped the handle of the wooden fork he had made against the table, thinking on the subject. The remaining ponies, save Celestia and Luna, expressed their positions in the negative. “Fine,” he said, dropping the fork and touching a hand to his chin. “If you can muster the force, I will lead them all.” He picked up his cup, taking a quaff as the three ponies stared at him in disbelief. “What,” he asked. “If you three aren’t competent enough to take charge, then I will lead them all in by myself. Remember, I like killing dragons.” He finished his drink, taking a loaf of bread from the table and standing. “C’mon Ridge Runner, I want to see the town.” Ridge Runner bowed slightly, leading Kerik out of the dining hall. The ponies sat there in silence, the tribal leaders poking their food with forks as Celestia stewed over on what had happened. Luna sighed, wiping her mouth on the back of a hoof and standing. “I don’t know about you three, but I’m with him. I will take a detachment as well when the time comes. Until then I am going out, show him the sites with Runner.” ... Kerik descended the stairs, noticing they were slightly longer than the stairs they used in Tamriel. “So…” Ridge Runner began. “What were the towns where you are from like?” Kerik looked down at him, walking to the fortress wall with the pony. “You mean the cities?” Ridge Runner nodded, stopping next to the gates as the guards opened them. “Well, usually they were divided into quarters or sections in Skyrim. Usually a high cost residential, low cost residential, industrial and market sections being the largest if they had more than that.” The doors slid away, revealing the rest of the city to their elevated view. Just as in Whiterun, Kerik could see the noble housing and market area, the low cost residential being outside of the inner walls and surrounded by a wooden defense. The Industrial District was directly beside the market district, smoke rising from a foundry. Farms squared the rolling hills beyond the outer walls, roads passing outside the houses that headed them. “Just like this in fact,” He said, a pang of homesickness running through him as he thought of Windhelm and his wife sitting at home alone. “Are you alright,” Ridge Runner asked, noticing the change in his voice. “You seem a little down all of a sudden.” Kerik shook his head, taking a step forward and descending the stairs from the fortress. “I’m fine,” He lied, continuing into the city. “How about you show me to a forge and where I can buy some steel, eh? It’s my trade,” Ridge Runner nodded, stopping and turning back as a voice called to them. “Luna, why are you here?” he asked as she trotted up to the two, forming a lopsided triangle before looking at them both quickly. “I want to see the city, maybe learn something of Kerik's skills; what he can do for us while he’s here,” She gave the duo an eager smile. Kerik and Runner looked at her, finding her behavior slightly out of place. “Well,” she questioned. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” ... Kerik dunked the glowing sword into the trough of oil and salt water, steam and fire rolling off the surface as the heat boiled the solution of brine. The steel stopped glowing, Kerik grasping the blanked handle and pulling it from the water, holding it up and testing the weight, making sure the balance was correct for his hand. He had created one of the curved Redguard swords he had longed after for so long, knowing it could easily lop limbs from an attacker with little effort. “That is craftsmanship,” he said in a dreamy voice, swirling the still burning hot blade by his side. “The weight is in the front, the handle being long enough to wield with either two hands or one, allowing for finesse or a simple edged bludgeon.” He took the blade to the granite wheel, working the pedal as he ground the flats to a shine. Ridge Runner gave the pony beside him a bag of coins, the transaction going silently as Kerik continued to admire the forming piece of art with a ravenous glee. Luna stood beside him, watching with meticulous precision as he sharpened the weapon. “Where did you learn to craft blades like this,” Luna asked, getting a glance in response. “In Whiterun,” he said, testing the edge on a block of wood, splitting the fibers against the grain nearly perfectly. “I was an adventurer when I began, like so many warriors in Skyrim, and I needed some armor and weapons. I met a smith, Eorlund Gray-Mane; he worked at the Skyforge, something that predates history. He agreed to train me in the ways of metal and fire, and here you have evidence that he is still better than me…” Kerik held up the edge of the blade before Luna’s eyes, showing her the small ripple in the steel. “He never makes mistakes.” Kerik sighed and wrapped the blade in linen, swearing under his breath. “I’ll have to start over, but I'm not about to waste this nearly perfect blade.” He went about the forge, returning tools to their places and restocking the coal for the smelter from the forge owner’s shed. “I will be back later this month, reforge the steel and hammer out the defects before I temper it,” He turned around, tying the blade to his belt by the wrappings. “Thank you for letting me use your forge,” he said, bowing slightly. The blue pony bowed back. “Anytime I can help, sir,” she said. “I would like to learn some of your techniques. You hammer style seems perfect for a new design of barding I'm creating for Celestia, as well as your heating method.” Kerik nodded, turning to face Ridge Runner and Luna. … “So why did you choose to be a warrior.” Luna asked, sitting on a cushion as she watched Kerik cover a rack with his armor and weapons. “From what you’ve told me, you were happy to be an explorer.” Kerik shrugged, leaning against the pommel of his sword. “It isn’t as simple as one would think,” He said, laying the blade on a rack. “The saying of 'Blood and Silver is what flows from Markarth' is true for all of Skyrim. If you don’t have money, you don’t have the things necessary to explore.” He took an axe from his pack, hanging it on some rungs. The entire room suddenly smelled of death to Luna, Kerik pulling a pair of black and red gloves from his pack. She covered her nose with a hoof, blocking most of the stench out. “Things like medicine, properly fitted armor and arms, food, maps… Things that you would die without. I took to sellswording, mercenary work. It began as clearing areas of danger under contract. Bears, Wolves, Undeath, traps and the like were my responsibility to remove from the area before historians, scholars and archaeologists would excavate. Then I began bounty hunting, chasing men across the country and bringing them to justice for their crimes. But when the dragons came, everything changed. I was pitted against one for my life, and before it died by my hammer it screamed 'Dovahkiin'. Then I was summoned for a greater purpose by the Graybeards, to save Tamriel.” Kerik placed the last of his items in a chest, locking it and setting the key around his neck on a leather thong. “I have taken many lives, and I know that I must take more before I am free from strife. Hopefully this war will be my last.” He stood and took Luna’s hoof, helping her to stand before walking her out of the room. Author's Note Hey everypony! It's me again. I had this already wrote up, but i figured that it could do with some editing and polishing. Blame my ADHD and very unorganized state for it not already being there. Ah yes, the Asterisks are back! Time for a few more explanations and origins of reference. *: The first one is a movie Reference. This is a line taken from the movie series Prophesy, namely the first three with Christopher Walken. the Angles called humans "Talking Monkeys" **: Reference two is easy for any Christian/Interfaith Student/School of Frostian Wicca graduate to get. Cavalry hill is where Jesus of Nazareth/Jesus Christ/ Joshua of Nazareth ect. was crucified. So, please review, gimme your opinions and if you would and this site allows, rate it!
Act 1 Chapter 3: Gods and GriffinsAct 1 Chapter 3: The Blessing of Dragons Kerik sat up in his cot, the full moon shining through his window and directly onto him. He sighed, resigned to wait out the restlessness that filled him as he always had. Sleep never came easy to him, a man who had taken the lives of many, and doubly so now that he was in a world strange and alien to any human. He rubbed his eyes, wiping the sleep that had once weighted them away before swinging his legs over the edge of the cot. “Ysmir be damned…,” he said groggily, wishing he could sleep. He let his hands fall; clasping them together and casting a spell of Night Eye. His control over the power allowed him to see in the dark, the room becoming as bright as day. “A walk will do me good,” he said to himself, standing and grabbing his pants and tunic. He garbed in them quickly, his subconscious mind telling him they were unfit as he looked himself over in the mirror. He shrugged, disrobing and choosing instead his Steel armor. The pieces came together easily, the clasps causing the sectioned plates to join effortlessly from the constant care he gave them. He shrugged several times, rolling his shoulders and flexing his arms and legs to get the parts to sit right. He knelt before his arms chest, opening the trunk and withdrawing two glass daggers, tying them to his belt before moving to the weapon rack. From it, he took a Daedric sword, swirling the weapon by his side in his right hand to make sure the leather strips were fitted correctly before sheathing it by his left hip. He lifted a steel shield from the floor, sliding his arm into the leather brace before grasping the handle and hefting the weight. His fourteen-inch biceps tensed as he curled the disc, waking his joints from their half-asleep state before he turned to the door. Kerik opened the door carefully, moving it quickly to keep the creaking hinges a quiet as possible. He stepped out silently, his leather-soled boots plodding quietly on the stone floor as he looked at Ridge Runner sleeping in his chair. He shut the door silently, turning and sneaking away, following the hall toward the front door. ‘Not the stealthiest way, but I guess I can make due,’ he thought, listening closely for guard patrols as he navigated the slightly less familiar path. Night made the castle seem to change, the structures Kerik had seen the day before seeming to be completely different. Where there had been a stairwell, there was now a hallway. Where there was a corridor, there was now a sleeping quarters. After what felt like an hour of searching, Kerik finally reached the exit. There were three black pegasi guarding the double door, Kerik sighing and knowing he was not going to slip out unnoticed. She stood behind a pillar, walking around the ornate piece and presenting himself to the guards. “I seek exit to the city below and the walls beyond,” he stated plainly, the three guard nodding before opening one of the oak doors wide enough for him to exit through. Kerik stood fast for a moment, shocked slightly that he had not met with confrontation. He exited at the urging of one of the guards, thanking them each with gold as he did before they closed the doors behind him. … Kerik walked out of the city gate, nodding to the guards as he passed them without incident and making his way farther out of the urbanized area. After ten minutes of walking he turned in a random direction, making his way into open fields and rolling hills layered in knee high grass and night flowers. Around him, deer frolicked, having known neither fear of man nor the danger of the creature that had wandered into their home. He slowed his pace, breathing in the cool night air and gazing up into the skies, taking in the beauty the night graced them with. He was slightly put off by the fact that there was only one moon, but it was easy to cope with given it was as large as Masser and Secunda combined. “The night is glorious,” he whispered, removing his shield and laying it on the ground, following it with his sword before falling backwards onto the rise of a low hill. He wedged his hands behind his head, staring at the stars aimlessly. An hour almost passed like this, Kerik watching the stars turn and the moon sail across the sky, deer grazing not ten feet from him and the sounds of Nightingales singing until a muffled voice caught his attention. He cast a spell to increase the sound, waiting in silence before letting the magic fade from his concentration. He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds that surrounded him, having not been able to relax in full since he was a child. Then the voice was back. Kerik sat up quickly, looking around for who or whatever was talking. He cast a spell of Night Eye, observing everything around, spying trees and birds, bugs and deer… even a few wolves in the distance. But unless deer could talk on this world as well, there was no one around he could see. He was about to lay back down when he heard the flapping of wings, large one too. Kerik rolled over his sword and shield, clutching them both and rising to a low crouch to face whatever beast was heading his way. The sound of the creature passing overhead caused him to turn on the balls of his feet, facing the direction it had gone. He waited, crouched and ready to fight. The sounds of the flapping drifted away, as if it had not noticed him. Kerik sheathed his sword, setting off after the creature quickly. He followed his ears, unable to see the beast even with his enhanced sight. He continued against the slight breeze, following downwind of the creature to a copse of trees nearly a mile from where he had started. He drew his sword, stalking into the trees and light undergrowth until he came upon a clear stream. The stream flowed into and out of a small pond, two large black and white fish, as he had never seen, swimming in the center. He stayed at the perimeter of the clearing the pond had demanded, hiding in the ferns and night-blooming flowers as he searched for the creature. He had heard it land in the trees minutes before, now all he had to do was wait. Kerik heard the voice again, this time clearer, closer. He listened silently, the voice sounding calm and melodic, as if it was singing. Soon he was able to make out words, and indeed, whatever it was, was singing. He searched the area before him, checking every boulder, every tree and every stand of tall grass and bush. He froze as he saw a pair or slightly glowing and vividly azure eyes. The eyes moved out of the trees on the opposite side of the pond, the figure of Luna revealing herself from the shroud of shadows that had encompassed her, singing a melody that sent a chill through Kerik. Now let the day, just slip away, So the dark night may watch over yooou, Velvet blue, silent true-oooo, It embraces, your heart and, your so-oh-oh-whoa-l… Nocturne… Never cry, never sigh, You don't have to wonder why, Always be, always see, Come and dream the night with meee… Nocturne… Luna stalked the glade like a goddess, animals of all sizes and appetites gathering nearby at the sound of her melody, bowing before her as if they understood a mild manner of her power among mortals. Kerik found himself fighting his body, forcing himself to stay hidden in the ferns in the stead of following her, trying to get closer to the heavenly sound of her song. Have no fear, When the night draws near, And fills you with dreams and desire, Like a foal asleep so warm, so deep, You will find me, there waiting, for yooou… Nocturne… We will fly, claim the sky, We don't have to wonder why, Always be, always see, Come and dream the night with meeee-heeeee-heeEEE!... Noh-ha-ooctuuuuuurne. She walked around the pond smoothly, stepping delicately over flat-stones in the shallow stream, nearly gliding over the short grass to the edge of the pond, bowing her head as the two fish swam to face her, seeming to listen to her song from the water. Though darkness fades, it will give way When the dark night delivers the daa-eeeh-aaay No-octuuurne… Her head rose from the ground slowly, her eyes closed and her ears perked high as she sniffed the air delicately, smirking to herself. “I know you are there Kerik,” she said softly, sitting on the grass and closing her wings against her sides. Kerik blinked in surprise, taking a breath before choking on the lung full he had held since he had arrived at the glade. He released his pent up breath slowly, half to seem decent, and half to steady his racing heart and trembling form, standing carefully and taking a step from the shadows. A glance around told him that the animals had fled at his presence, the break in the treetops flooding the area with luminous moonlight. The sound of Luna giggling brought his attention to her, the Alicorn tapping her hoof against the ground next to her. “Sit, please,” she said kindly, seeming a different person than he had met just that day. “What was that,” he asked as he walked to her side slowly, taking a seat on the soft mat of grass. “The song… I have never heard anything like it.” Luna nodded slowly twice, plucking a bellflower with velvet black petals with her hoof. “It is a song that I was given by the Gods when I was granted control over the moon and stars,” she said quietly, smelling the flower as gently as if it were made of powder, a light blush painting the top of her muzzle as she smiled. “The night can be a lonely place, so they showed me mercy. The song can bring joy to the most basic of minds, and draws any creature near me from five hundred strides away…” She whispered something, breathing on the flower and turning its petals into the deepest sapphires. “It affected you because of your gift, the melody keeping you from sleep and driving you to find the source.” She reached the gem flower to Kerik, the nord taking it, catching the smell of Magnolia’s from the Summerset Isles and cool blueberry mead. Kerik set the flower aside, giving her a wary look from years of encounters with certain hunting parties. “You know about my curse?” he asked her, Luna beginning to nod before her eyes widened. “Curse,” she asked, not believing he had said the word. “Kerik to be granted to powers of an animal is a gift I can only dream of having! Any warrior would revel in the chance to be like you. The increase in agility, speed and endurance. The strength to tear a wall apart with you bare hooves… erm… hands…” She sighed at the thought, her war-born personality flooding through her regal front. “It seems like a dream that anypony could have your abilities,” Kerik shook his head furiously, objecting from the start. “You have no comprehension of what I am afflicted with,” he said. “While I am Werekin, I cannot help but revel in the destruction and death I wreak upon those I face, but when it is all over, and I am man again, the scene is something I would not wish on anything,” He leaned back onto the grass, staring up at the stars again. “The lust for blood can get to unbearable amounts some days, and even the strongest will must give in to the instinctual thirst eventually. And the longer you hold it in, the worse it will be when you finally do lose control.” He sighed, tilting his head back to look at her. “You do not want this.” Luna barked a laugh, looking down at him with a mischievous expression. “Think you to assume what I wish,” she asked rhetorically. She sighed, hanging her head slightly in resign. “It matters not though. The grace of the gods keeps me in perfect health for all of time, lest blade or poison take me. And even if I could, I doubt they would smile upon a Were being the harbinger of night.” They remained silent for what felt like hours, the position of the stars telling them it had only been minutes before she spoke again. “Do you like the night sky?” Kerik looked at her again, rolling onto his stomach and lifting himself into a sit. “Yes, it’s beautiful,” He looked back up at the moon, wishing he could find the constellations from Nirn again. “Why do you ask?” Luna shrugged, kicking a pebble into the pond, causing the pair of fish to swim away, returning shortly and continuing their dance. “Not many ponies do,” she said in a rather defeated tone. “I am the giver of night on this world, and it is my responsibility to make it as beautiful and peaceful as possible. Each night I brighten the most distant stars to allow the ponies to admire them as I do, but they choose to sleep through the masterpiece I orchestrate. Some even fear the night, as if they think that the dark sky will harm them; that my night would harm them…” She reached a hoof to her face, wiping a tear from her eye. ‘Perhaps she knows how I feel about being like I am…’ Kerik thought, watching the once stone solid mare breakdown before him. He laid his shield aside, sliding up beside her and wrapping his arms around her neck in a comforting embrace. “There there… Come now, I’m sure their fear is just of the dark.” Luna pushed her face into the fur of his armor, crying onto his shoulder. “It is a fear we all feel from when we were all wild animals. I’m sure they think nothing of the sort.” He stroked her mane as she confided in him, shushing quietly as she wet his shoulder with tears. … Kerik pushed off from the ground, his body upturned and leaning against the wall. He counted as he pushed off and eased down, exercising his bare arms and chest to keep them in peak condition. “Seventy…four… Argh! Seventy…Five… ugh… Seventy si-ix…” Sweat drenched his hair and body, the brine shining in the sunlight of the open courtyard. He was wearing his greaves and steel boots, the heaviest wearable items he owned, having donned them after his one hundred mark in just his woolen pants. He stopped at the crest of the eighty-mark push, watching a quartet of deep blue legs walk up to and stop before him. He looked down his chest, up into the face of Luna. “War-maiden,” he said, pushing eighty-one. “What brings you out on such a bright day?” He smiled in strained amusement, getting a smirk from her. “Oh I thought I would take a walk,” she said, watching him test his limits. “See the… sights…” she added with a blush scan of his detailed and flexing muscles. “Tell me, why are you doing this?” Kerik laughed, falling onto his shoulders and tumbling backwards to rise to kneel. He panted, shaking his arms and wobbling slightly as the blood drained from his head. “Keeps me strong,” he said, sitting on the grass and leaning against a stump. “So if I need to go hand to hand with a dragon I can. So if you need someone to carry you back to the castle at dawn I can lend two arms.” Kerik chuckled as Luna blushed, casting him a “don’t you dare” expression. Kerik waved a hand, metaphorically banishing the thought. “So what news do you bring me,” he asked. “It seems to be the system that when information is received regarding dragons you all send it to me,” he picked up a waterskin, quaffing down the liquid quickly as Luna spoke. “Well if you want to know, the advanced forces have sent a message by falcon.” Kerik raised an eyebrow, silently inquiring as to the contents of the letter. “They have noticed the dragon forces have upped their armaments on the border. They have added Ballistae, more cannons, have been adding metal armor to their barricades and have doubled the forces they have garrisoned there.” Kerik nodded, already working out how to get around those obstacles in his head. “Also, unrelated to dragon activity, the griffins have cast their lot with Discord in hopes to be left out of his wrath as he nears their borders, and the Entians have declared that they cannot aid us due to dragon raids on the supply routes they use, both on sea and land. The tribes have responded to my sister’s request for aid by saying they will assist when Discord threatens their land and lives. And still no word from the Shadeskaul.” Kerik nodded, the information only registering half way in his head as he worked out strategies for the planned offensive. “Also,” Kerik perked up now, looking at her as he finally emptied the skin. “The recruitment list says that the rally has worked. Apparently, the city-states do not like to be called cowards. They all have increased their training regimen for existing guards and militia, and have had nearly a third of their populations join the army respectively,” Kerik froze for a second, baffled that his tirade had worked so well. “You did it,” she said with a grin. “We’re going to the front lines!” Luna bounced on her hooves, the promise of gore bringing glee to her young mind. Kerik simply nodded, steeling himself for the future to come and preparing to be called for the war meeting. … The week dragged by, the feeling of war readiness wearing heavily on Kerik’s mind and body, the nord wearing a minimum of leather armor at all times save his self allotted down-time. He assisted in the war preparations wherever he could, cutting shields and forging weapons and barding. As he had helped them, Kerik began to feel more accepted, the stares and sideways glances having all but ceased in Baltimare. Ponies would nod to him, greet him and offer him help or ask for it from him. He learned names, addresses and even the occasional chip of gossip. On the seventh day of the week, something that had never happened to him in his life was presented to him. A couple had been gifted with a child, a colt, and they brought it before him. “You want me to do what?” he asked, baffled they would even ask him. He was an outsider, nothing special to their lives despite being the savior of Nirn; his far away home world. “Give him a blessing, sir,” the stallion repeated. “His body is weak, and the doctors believe he won’t make it through the winter. I know they are just words, but perhaps the thought alone could help.” The stallion gave him a sad smile, knowing the child was doomed without constant medical attention. Kerik took the foal the stallion handed him, cradling the infant as he would a child of man. The foal twitched in his sleep, cooing lightly as Kerik tucked a stray corner of his blanket away. He always had a weakness for children, going out of his way several times to save them from dragon breath or other lethal dangers. He could not turn the stallion's plea away, deciding to do as only he could in this world, and bestow the child strength with the power of The Voice. “I will,” he finally said. “I will bless your young, but I must be outside the city, away from those that could be harmed unintentionally.” The stallion nodded. “If you would allow it, I would like to take you child,” Kerik looked around the horizon, finding a mountain not too far away, an outcrop offering him an airy perch. “There,” he pointed to the mountain, the Stallions face flickering with fear quickly. “It is far enough that the townsfolk will not be harmed if I go askew.” The stallion hesitated, thinking over the dangers, risks and precautions that should be made, reluctantly agreeing. Kerik prepared to climb the mountain, having negotiated Luna into carrying the child to the outcrop by air as he climbed. She agreed, with much complaining, but the deed was done, and as Kerik looked down the cliff face, he began to regret his decision. “Why did you decide this was a good idea,” he muttered to himself, grunting as he climbed the bluff, grunting as he pulled himself up with hand and foot holds. “Is it some form of entitlement you feel for being the Dovahkiin?” She shook his head, shrugging as he rested on a small ledge. “No,” he said, turning around and looking over the plains before him. “It’s because the damned thing was so cute, and you can’t resist a child in danger.” He resumed his ascent, reaching the outcrop he had in mind within the hour. Pulling himself over the lip he lay on his chest, panting heavily from the challenge overcame before standing and walking to the small spike of rock. The precarious perch gave him an awe-inspiring view, finally seeing that the area around him was much like Whiterun Hold. The plains rolled with hills, pockmarked with small patches of wood and ponds, streaked with streams and filled with life of all predispositions. He sat on his heels, watching a pair of mountain cats stalking a herd of deer, making bets against himself as to which deer would become their meal as he waited for Luna to bring the foal. She arrived as the cats made their choice, Kerik losing his wager to himself as they took their kill. “Why are you doing this again,” Luna asked him, giving him the child swaddled tightly in warming wrappings. Kerik took the bundle of blankets, exposing the foals face and ears so the voice would affect him fully. He had no idea if his experiment would work, but something in his gut dashed his doubts against the ground as they arose. “Because I am a protector,” he said, walking toward the point of the ledge. “Because this life has not had a chance to live, and I do not wish to see any living thing end so soon.” He stood on the precipice of a deadly fall, holding the child out at eye level. “Stay back,” he said to Luna. “I have no idea what I am doing.” He cast a smile over his shoulder, Luna responding in kind as she landed upon the cliff top. Kerik returned to the child, concentrating on the Thu’um and all the language lessons he had taken from Paarthunax, weaving the Dragon Tongue into an intricate and powerful spell. He began, the normally quiet voice he possessed becoming a rock-shaking roar. “Zu'u enfan amiv hi mul wah krif naan paal, wah neilaas munax ahrk buruk laas, ahrk mindah tol nii vis nunon gepruz. Zu'u hind hi lingrah ahrk joyous laas, voth lokaal, voth ragnavir, ahrk pogaan zeymahzin naal hin reid zeim zok buruk sul ahrk zok lingrah vulon. Aal Kaan lingraav avok hi, ahrk aak hi voknau hin wundaak. ” He finished his chant, a stream of energy flowing from him and to the foal, swirling around the newborn infant and causing him to glow with a radiant golden light. As the light faded and the air grew still once more, Kerik felt the toll the voice had placed upon him, the nord stumbling back from the edge before falling to the ground, the child sheltered in his arms against his chest as he landed on his back. Luna became tense as he fell; rushing to his side to make sure the child was unharmed. Kerik handed the foal up to her, Luna taking the infant in her hooves before gasping in surprise. “K-Kerik… What did you do?” she asked in astonishment. Kerik shook his head to clear the fog that had settled in his mind, standing carefully, if a little unsteadily, his eyes widening slightly as he beheld the effects of his prolonged Thu’um. The blanket’s had been shifted by the force of the shout, but what was different was the foal. What had once been an underweight infant had now become what seemed to be a child, near the age of five or six summers. He was hearty and hale, deep in sleep from the tax the spell had taken from his form. Upon his flank was the image of crossed axes, a helmet the likes of the generals of the Empire wore. as Kerik stood, the child woke, squinting from the light of the sun as it tried to make sense of the figures in its vision. "Kolos Zu'u?" It spoke, to the bewilderment of them both. ""Fos los hin faan?" … A crowd of ponies had gathered around the city square, forming a mass of horns, wings and hooves that focused on the tall man carrying a bundle of light blue blankets. The ponies murmured as he walked through them, following the main path to the center of the city. The man reached the square, a pair of ponies, a mare and stallion, walking up to him with hopeful eyes and resigned faces. Kerik looked from the bundle in his arm to the couple, then back to the bundle, smiling as the swaddled for shifted restlessly. The mare burst in to joyous tears, thanking all of the gods and the man before her, and moving to take the child. However their expression of joy shifted to one of surprise as the bundle overturned, the child tumbling out and landing on his hooves, looking over the crowd with an air of judgement as if gauging the strength of each body. "Drem yol lok monah," He said, smiling at the pair. "Drem yol lok Bormah." He cleared his throat. "I am... Well, thanks to the Dovahkiin." Author's Note Yeah, there it is. I can write it up pretty fast if I have as much downtime as I've had, but don’t get used to it. So the song Luna sang is called Nocturne by Celtic Woman, look it up on YouTube, because that is exactly how it needs to be heard. ~~The Dragon language blessing is actually my own work, having found an online dictionary from Bethesda. They included a little of the phrasing process used in the sentences, but here is what it is supposed to mean…~~ So! Hit the comment section below, and if you’re new, rate it 20% cooler or Neighsayer. Doesn't matter to me if you hate, because that only brings more ponies in to see for themselves. :P PEACE! AedanRyche EDIT NOTES: I decided to fix some of the cringe in this story while I'm writing the newer chapters. I retconned making the child and alicorn, because what the fuck was edgy younger me thinking, right? these changes set me up for a story arc, and a returning character for Act 3. I took to the legacy translator on Thuum Dot Org for this, because it reads in a more 'atmospheric' appropriate way. Heres what the Dovazul (Dragon Speak) says. "Who are you?" "What are you called?" "Greetings Mother. Greetings Father" Drem Yol Lok, literally Peace Fire Sky, is the greeting of Dragons in TES. so any form of greeting should be that phrase, for anyone who wants to nit pick that. I also reworked the blessing using the Legacy Translator. heres the transcript of the English version "I bestow onto you strong to fight any foe, to survive cruel and hard life, and knowledge that it can only improve. I wish you long and joyous life, with love, with family, and many companion by your side through most hard day and most long night. May Kyne watch above you, and guide you upon your journey."
Act 1 Capter 1: A New World, With Old Rivals...'By Ysmir,’ The Nord thought as he stared down upon theshattered remains of Akatosh's first born. 'Skyrim is safe once more.' The man stood tall amongst the mists of Sovengarde, though his body bespoke of exhaustion as he held his war hammer loosely. Though the battle had filled him with vigor and adrenaline, his muscles and bones screamed for rest. He had been on the path of the ominous beast of Prophecy for six weeks, never halting save to buy a new horse and refresh his provisions and armor. Once he had reached Sovengarde he faced Alduin for the final time, tearing away at his life with the Thu'um until nothing but a quivering husk of the past was left, pleading for him to show mercy and spare his life. The man had simply smiled at the creature before digging the claw of his hammer into its jaw and using the Thu’um to blast its skull away. “Talos, I am tired,” the man said, hoping his god could hear him amongst the thousands of others. “Your warrior is tired, and his life grows weaker by the day. I wish no longer for battle, Talos. I wish for the life mine father owned, one of land and growth. But if I return to Skyrim they will wish me to lead armies against the Elves, to ride Nightmares into the fray and lay waste to mine brothers.” The warrior dug the head of his hammer into the misty ground, dropping to his knees. “Your serf wishes you grant him peace in life, for my time is not at hand. A life of rest and industriousness for the tried hero.” The Nord reached into a pouch on his waist, withdrawing an idol of Tiber Septim. He placed the statuette on a stone before him, removing his helm and bowing before it. The ground below him shook, sudden and violently, the warrior retrieving his now fallen statuette and depositing it in a pouch before standing to run. He donned his helmet, using one of the horns as leverage and retrieving his hammer before turning around to make his way back to where he had entered Sovengarde. But something had changed… All around him the scape* had changed, the misty cliffs and towers, hazy forms of people and animals had faded away, being filled with the precipice of a bluff and white nothing. Fog rolled around him, coiling around his limbs before being pulled over the edge and into the void beyond. There was a sound amongst the shuddering of the earth, a sound like the growl of a massive creature. And then… There was a voice… A voice like no other. A voice that commanded respect and fealty, which was filled to overflow with power and wisdom. And the voice spoke to him, slow and deliberate as if it had not spoken for and eternity. “Thou hast done Skyrim a great service, Kerik of Windhelm,” the voice said, pausing after each word as the fog in the void moved around a massive form without definition. “And in death this service would have granted a welcome of kings upon thine arrival to Sovengarde. But alas, your time is not now, nor even close at hand.” A hand formed in the fog, reaching out to Kerik and resting on the bluff. “You pray of me peace, but this I cannot give. Mine people have abandoned me, be it at the hand of Elves and those who oppose the empire I formed to keep peace upon Nirn.” A face and torso formed in the fog as it rolled away, revealing the god Talos; Tiber Septim himself. “I cannot grant you peace on this world, but another awaits your arrival. Step onto my hand, Son of Skyrim, brother of mine.” Kerik hesitated, looking at Talos, then the gods hand before doing as he was told. Talos lifted Kerik before him, looking up and turning around before returning his view to him. “I can find only one world that may hold the peace you seek,” he said. Kerik felt something latch onto his breastplate, the force lifting him from Talos’ hand and into the air. “But this world is at war. This war will engulf their world in flames lest an end is found, a means of defeating a principal manifested.” Kerik found Talos had pinched his armor with two giant fingers, now swinging him around as the god turned. “You wish for peace, but I learned that peace must be won. You must fight for your peace Kerik, fight hard and fight well. For once it is achieved you shall have the piece that you desire.” Talos closed his hand around Kerik, holding him gently but firm. He reached his arm behind himself, aiming at a bright light in the distance. Kerik could feel the panic taking hold, filling his chest with an aching throb. “There must be a better way than this,” he yelled, trying to make his small voice heard by the giant god. “You cannot truly think that throwing me from Sovengarde will finish the task.” Talos laughed quickly, looking back at the man once. “True,” he said, returning his gaze and taking aim once more. “But this is more fun. May their gods watch over you Kerik; this is where my influence ends,” Talos moved his arm forward at speed, Kerik screaming from adrenaline as he was released from his grasp and sent flying into nothing. ... “We are making no progress with that massive monster out there,” Commander Hurricane said as he viewed over the top of the battlements. An earth pony and unicorn in like colored armor nodded silently beside him, their eyes and stances equally as haggard as his. The three looked out over the two square mile wide battle field, bodies from both sides littering the ground near the middle. “Something has to give, and soon. Don’t you agree Princess Platinum?” the unicorn nodded, her blackened and dented armor clinking together lightly. “Yes, we must find a way to bring the beast down before we can make a charge,” she said. “Else this battle will continue until our forces are utterly decimated. Do you have any ideas Chancellor Puddinghead?” the earth pony to her right took a further pensive look, racking his brain for some sort of tactical solution. “None that do not require a massive loss of ground and forces,” he said with a shrug. “Although we could send in our Dark Knight. She would be more than happy to fix this problem for us, but her sister would never allow it.” A trapdoor opened behind them the sounds of two pairs of hooves resonating out as two winged and horned ponies walked out. “You would be correct, chancellor. Luna shall not be permitted to fight further until she has fully recovered from her injury.” The white Alicorn stood tall and regal, though her eyes betrayed the fatigue her body felt. A midnight blue Alicorn, of slightly smaller stature, glared at the former, taking up an aggressive posture. “I am no foal, sister,” she heatedly argued. “I can still fight. That sword barely nicked my flesh. It is well enough in my opinion to permit battle.” The white Alicorn glared back, coming face to face with her sister Luna. “And the healer said your stitches are still too fresh to withstand the actions or battle!” The Alicorn tossed her mane out of her face. “Besides, I doubt even we could best that,” She pointed over the lip of the battlements to a hundred foot tall dragon. The behemoth laid waste to siege engines and squadrons of troops with swipes from its tail and the slightest wave of a clawed foot. The seven hundred foot long wingless dragon released a torrent of fire from its maw, a guttural laugh rumbling across the bodies and trenches from its throat. “I can only hope we can hold it off long enough to escape before they summon forth another!” Luna simply scoffed at her sister’s remark, only having glanced at the beast she had spent the last week plotting against. “It’s a dragon Celestia, not an immortal being,” Luna retorted. “It has a heart, a mind and a Liver; you take one out of the equation and the other two fall as well.**” Celestia sighed, turning away from her battle born sister and to the matter at hand. Luna scowled after her, her horn glowing with a dark blue aura. A stone that would have tested the powers of the most trained unicorn lifted from the battlefield as she maneuvered it from afar. Ponies scattered as she moved the massive slab over the area. “If it will not travel then I will bring the mountain to it!” she yelled through the strain as Celestia stared at the power of her younger sister. “I did not face death in the trials of Olympus to be bested by a mortal beast!” she screamed as she dropped the stone from high above the dragon. The beast looked up as debris fell onto its face, seeing the three hundred metric ton slab falling towards him. “Is this the best you can do,” he yelled across the field as he raised his tail, battering the giant block like so many river stones. Luna screamed in frustration as the beast laughed at her, turning around to one of the archers and taking his bow and an arrow. “Calm yourself Luna!” Celestia yelled as her sister embedded a spell of piercing into the arrow, loosing the bolt over the field at an arc. The arrow came within a foot of the monster, the magic being dispelled by an unforeseen barrier before the shaft buried itself in the dragon’s scales. Luna blew a strand of her mane off of her muzzle, thrusting the bow back into the archers care before returning to a four legged stance. “I told you there was nothing we could do, and yet you persisted to strain yourself and break your stitches!” Luna huffed, reaching down and wetting her hoof in the small pool of blood that had formed underneath her ribs. “I’ll be fine,” she said passively, taking the bandage roll an archer held out and wrapping her chest in cloth. “The worst that could happen is that I will acquire a scar. Now if you are done bickering, do any of the tribe leaders have a solution?” The three ponies shook their heads, confirming her suspicions. “Then all we can do is hope the gods are on our side when it counts. I have no plan to fight this challenge, and unless she had chosen not to share I doubt my sister has one either.” The sound of canon fire blasted overhead, the ponies and dragon armies both turning their heads skyward, some locked in battle taking advantage of the distraction of their foe. Another loud explosion sounded overhead soon after, having this time caught the attention of the massive behemoth. Light bloomed above the field, painting the sky in a red light. “What are you doing sister?” Luna asked in a half dazed tone. Celestia shook her head, looking up at the light as well. “This is not my…” she was cut off, another explosion sounding as the light changed to blue. “…is not my work.” On the field, ponies and dragons alike were dropping weapons, bowing to the ground to pray forgiveness. Some fled back toward their respective sides while even more simply fled, leaving the battle with whatever they had on them. The ponies and dragon warriors continued to leave the field out of superstition or fear; the only ones remaining were the large dragon, an upright, winged dragon, a normal dragon in golden armor and a serpentine dragon. ... “These ponies think they can scare us away with light and sound, Thorn,” the large dragon rumbled as another explosion resounded above. The upright dragon sheathed his swords at his waist, looking into the sky. “I find their attempts to scare us a petty waste of magic,” Thorn said, his armor making a clamor as he laughed. “What do you think, Xiang? You know the most about magic here.” The serpentine dragon scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “This is, as Mammoth said, a futile attempt,” another boom sounded, the light turning a vivid violet as a dull roar filled the air. “There is nothing up there that could possibly harm us, I would have detected any magical attack long before it become as ominous as this looks.” The roaring continued to grow in volume, the golden armored dragon thinking as he blew a small stream of fire over his scaled claws. His eyes went wide suddenly, memories arising. “What if it isn't magical,” he proposed. “I remember this happening eight hundred years ago. You remember Mammoth, when that meteorite landed in the sea near our homeland.” The large dragon scoffed. “This is no meteor,” he said. “If you remembered correctly Draco, the sky was only orange until it landed, not violet.” Mammoth laughed at the sky, rearing up slightly. “You have to try harder than that to scare us away, Ponies!” he yelled at the battlements. Another explosion sounded above, this time much louder and seemingly closer. Mammoth looked up in time to catch a last look at a flaming ball of something careening towards him. ... “Get down!” Celestia screamed as the fireball came from the gray clouds, pulling her sister off of her hooves and under the lip of the wall. The large ball of flame careened down from the sky, Mammoth staring at it with full confidence it was a light trick until he could feel the heat. His face drained of expression, panic filling his chest before the ball made impact atop his skull. The dragon was driven into the ground jaw first, his large body lifting thirty feet from the ground as his head made contact with the stone under him. The other three dragons dove away as the fire swept over them, debris and chunks of Mammoth’s massive thirty foot long skull flying over the others. Thorn scrambled to his feet, looking around the cloud of smoke, dust and blood-mist for his companions. Beside him, lifeless and burnt, was Xiang. The serpentine and wingless mage having caught a large fragment of bone in his chest area, his heart impaled on the tip of the fragment that protruded from his back. Thorn called out to Draco, but noticed he could not hear his own voice. He touched the side of his head, feeling blood trickle out of his ear and over his claw. He called out again regardless, hoping his comrade could hear him. Draco rose to his feet slowly, looking back at where Mammoth had been flattened. All around him was dust, ash and blood, kicked up and vaporized by the impact. Draco wasn’t sure but he had a rather good idea of what happened when something was struck by a meteorite. “Mammoth, are you alive?” he called out, walking toward the large form in the haze. “If you are, say something.” He heard a mumbling sound. “Thank the gods; I had no idea if you could have… Survived the…” Draco trailed off as he came close enough to see Mammoth. His words were stolen by the state of his friend, his skull turned inside out and his eyes hanging by their nerves. “What are you?” Draco said as something stirred inside of Mammoth’s skull. It resembled Thorn, he was sure, but seemingly shorter and of a lighter color. The figure began to glow as a wind picked up, dust swirling around him as Mammoth’s corpse caught fire and the flames leapt around the figure. ... Kerik groaned as he awoke, having passed out during his freefall. He felt the ground beneath himself, although it felt soft, and he could smell the stench of a large scale battle. “Ow,” he rumbled in his throat, standing as he felt a wind begin to blow. “What are you!” a voice screamed, Kerik looking up and around quickly before drawing his hammer. His quick scan revealed that he was standing in what remained of a large dragon, one larger than he had ever seen. The beast was beginning to burn around him, the monstrous dragon’s soul flowing into him. Before the crushed snout of the beast was what looked like a dragon; this one having four legs and a pair of independent wings. The dragon was holding a spear at Kerik, its body clad in golden armor. ‘Dragons with weapons,’ Kerik thought. ‘This ought to be a joyous experience.’ He ran through the Shout words he had learned, quickly deciding on one. ... Celestia and Luna rose to their hooves, quickly finding where the dragon had been. In the center of a large dust cloud was a glowing figure brandishing a large hammer. “What in Tartarus is that,” questioned Commander Hurricane to Celestia and Luna. “This must be something of your doing, nopony else can control the heavens.” Celestia and Luna continue to stare as the dust began to clear, finding the figure to be standing on what remained of the monstrous dragons head. “Well that solves that problem.” Said Luna. “But a side is yet to be taken,” replied Celestia. “I believe the side is quite clear,” chimed Princess Platinum. “He literally crushed our most challenging opponent, what else but a gift from the Gods could this creature be?” “The Gods are fickle beings,” Celestia snapped. “Their wonders aren’t won with a single prayer.” She returned her view to the field, finding a single dragon threatening the creature with a spear. “Although loyalties can be won and lost with first impressions. Commander Hurricane,” Celestia ordered. “Gather a contingent of airborne troops to send to this creature’s aid, perhaps we can win an ally!” ... “What are you!!!?” Draco screamed at the creature standing on his fallen comrade. He lifted his spear towards the form's throat, holding it four feet below his own height. His blood ran cold as the figure raised a hammer into its hands. “Fus-Ro-Dah!” Kerik Roared, a wall of solid air forming before him and colliding with the dragon. The beast seemed to panic as the Shout was released, hurrying backwards before the force struck him. The dragon was thrown onto a spear jutting from the ground, the shaft passing effortlessly through his chest. “That was easy,” Kerik commented as the dragon sputtered his last breath. “Are these dragons impaired?” he questioned no one, looking around the field. All around him were fallen warriors, some dragons in armor and others seemingly fallen mounts. ... Thorn could see through the haze, finding the dust cloud to be spinning around a single, glowing figure as Mammoth’s corpse began to burn to bone. Before the figure was Draco, impaled on a spear and also alight as a golden energy began to flow to the figure from his body. “Stand and fight,” He demanded of the figure, drawing his blades and taking a stance. “Tell me who you are so I may inform the families of my friends their slayer.” The figure turned its head, looking at Thorn as it stepped out of Mammoth’s skull. The being was seemingly a dragon, but smelled nothing of it. Between the crevices of the beings armor were bare patches of pale pink flesh, under the rim of what Thorn took as a horned helmet shone locks of golden hair. “I am Kerik, Warrior of Windhelm and Dovahkiin,” the being said, hefting his hammer onto a shoulder with one hand. “And you shall not be leaving this battleground.” Thorn snarled at the being, baring his white fangs and raising his swords to defend himself. “Think you I am of such low caliber as to fall by a hammer,” Thorn bantered. “I shall have you in ribbons before you ready yo…” Thorn narrowly missed being struck with a thrust from Kerik’s hammer, dodging to the side and sweeping the shaft away with his swords. Metal struck metal, casting sparks as Kerik rushed toward Thorn, the dragon swinging down at the opponent with his offhand blade. Kerik deflected the cleaving motion with the haft of his hammer, bringing the fifty pound head up toward the dragon’s steel encased chest in a crushing slam. Thorn jumped back, attempting to dodge the blow and gain some distance to work with but was caught under the lip of his cuirass as Kerik twisted the hammer; bringing the claw on the end to bear. Thorn struggled against Kerik’s hold, pulling away but making no ground. He turned his blade around in his hand, bringing the point down. “Zun-Haal-Viik,” Kerik shouted as he saw the blade approaching, the Thu`um wrenching Thorn’s swords away from him. The dragon blinked once, noticing the fight was lost. Thorn kicked out, catching Kerik in the chest with enough force to knock him away as he released the straps of his cuirass. Thorn flipped back before landing, watching as his cuirass landed between the two competitors. “This isn’t over,” Thorn yelled, holding a claw up accusingly. “I will have revenge Kerik, mark my words!” Kerik watched as the dragon turned away, sprinting into the mist that had settled around the battlefield before taking wing and vanishing into the smoke that hung heavy over the skies. He raised his hammer over his head, slamming a gauntlet against his chest plate. Kerik loosed a war cry, celebrating his victory as the wisps of smoke that were disturbed by Thorn’s wings returned to the featureless blanket. He let his arm fall to his side, turning his hammer over and returning it to his back with his off hand. He turned around, searching for more foes before allowing his guard to fall. He walked the field, viewing the fallen bodies of the two sides. “You said I would have to fight for my peace,” Kerik said, unsure if Talos could hear him. “But you never mentioned who I am to fight or who to join!” He kicked the fallen form of a dragon, frustration filling him. “Laas-Yah-Nir,” He muttered, trying to find anyone with a morsel of life left. His vision changed, everything becoming darker around him as bodies took on auras. Most were black, lifeless clouds that clung to fallen warriors and horses like flies. But in the distance, about a hundred paces away, a body glowed with a dim blue light. He took to pace, running the distance quickly and dropping to his knees. He slid to a stop beside the life light, tearing off his helmet and releasing the Thu`um. Before him was the bleeding body of a horse, though it seemed all too small and much to like a thinking being. The small horse gasped for air, Kerik finding a gaping puncture hole in its ribs and covering it with his hand. The horse’s breathing eased greatly, the hollow gasps becoming ragged breaths filled with coughing. “Thank… you…” the horse said, nearly causing Kerik to flinch with surprise. “Thank you… for helping me…” The horse coughed heavily, blood spraying out of its mouth. “And for killing that monster of a dragon.” Kerik shook his head, adding pressure to the horses wound. “Easy, be easy,” Kerik coaxed, deciding to treat the talking beast like a fellow warrior rather than an animal. “Where are your allies?” He asked, getting a twitch of the head from the horse towards a ramshackle battlement in the distance. Kerik turned his head to the battlements, calling on the power of the Voice. “I need help,” he called, the Thu`um carrying his voice farther than it could under the best of circumstances. “One of your charges is wounded. Send a healer, quickly.” Kerik turned back to the horse, noticing his breathing had become more labored. “What is your name, warrior?” Kerik asked. “M-my name… is Lance…” the horse said before falling into a fit of coughing. “Silver Lance…” Kerik nodded, looking back to the battlements to find winged creatures of multiple colors taking off from its parapets; flying towards them. ‘Good,’ Kerik thought. ‘They heard me.’ He returned his attention to Silver Lance. “Where are you from?” Kerik asked. The horse let out a slight laugh, following the humor with a deathly cough. “What does it matter to you,” Lance asked innocently. “You would not know it.” Kerik shrugged. “In my culture, a warrior’s last thoughts should be of home.” The pony looked up at him, having accepted his fate long ago. “It eases the passing.” Lance laughed in full now, staggering his humor with rasping, blood filled coughs. “Would you help ease my passing,” Lance asked, receiving a nod as he nudged a dagger by his side with a hoof. “I am from Seaddle. It’s a small village on the western edge of the continent.” He continued to talk, his voice becoming weaker by the word. Kerik listened as he grasped the dagger awkwardly, finding the cuff best suited for being filled with a hoof rather than a hand. “My family has been there for generations.” Lance’s eyes became distant as Kerik placed the tip of a dagger between the plates of the ponies armor. “I was sweet on a filly from the neighboring village. I even asked to wed her of her parents, but that is not to be. Her family made wine from berries, Juniper I believe.***” Lance looked up into Kerik's eyes, resolve having set in. “It was burned to the ground by the dragons.” Kerik nodded, sinking the blade into the pony’s chest. Lance kicked once, the rest of his breath emptying slowly as his eyes closed. “May you be guided to Sovengarde, and have always a swift wind at your heels.” Kerik prayed, closing Lance’s eyes completely. Standing up, a wave of exhaustion fell over him, causing his knees to give way to the full weight of his armor. He caught himself with a hand as he fell, the blood muddied ground swallowing it whole. He looked up, finding several horses like Lance standing around him, each holding a spear in his direction but keeping their distance. He attempted to stand again, reaching his feet as a gray tunnel began to fill his vision. He staggered forward, taking a few steps before he fell, the ground catching his unconscious body. Author's Note You noticed those Asterisks next to words or phrases of dialogue/text. Those are there to be explained for later. You see, when I started this, I had a rather dim audience. They said I should use smaller words and the like. I decided to explain them instead. These are for the things even I found confusing, or context that not all will understand. *This is an explanation for an improper word. I say “Scape” because Sovengarde doesn’t have much land per say. **This is a reference to the movie Reign of Fire. Denton Van Zant says this in a different phrasing to the crowd around him, trying to persuade them to join him. *** This is a reference to Skyrim, where Ralof at the beginning talks of his past. EDIT NOTES: I decided to make some small alterations for the sake of making characters more relatable to us all as living beings with emotions, hopes and lives, and this chapter will get a full rework at some point but here you go.
