4E 201, Redwater Den
Gerron Ironbreaker
"There you are."
Looking at the non-descript cottage that lay on the side of a hill, Gerron lifted up his hood to hide his features.
Plenty of rumors sang of the Redwater Den, there were those that said it was a place for Skooma addicts, and Gerron was inclined to agree.
He had left Shor's Stone just three days ago, on his way to Windhelm and Whiterun to begin trade of the ebony ingots to anyone who wanted it. After a week of making a sufficient number of weapons and armor for the militia's personal armory, he left the further production and protection of Shor's Stone to Filnjar and Grogmar.
He travelled north for a day before deciding to make a detour for the Redwater Den. After the trip to Kagrenzel, he had received plenty of blueprints for new creations, one of them he's currently in the process of making.
A homunculus servant. It was an interesting piece of technology. Similar to the dwarven spiders and spheres, a homunculus servant is a tiny mechanical helper that aids the creator similar to a mage's familiar. They are able to listen to orders and move on their own accord.
The idea he had was to make one in the shape of a mechanical bird. He had everything prepared except for one specific ingredient, some kind of gem or crystal worth at least 200 septims.
It was an odd requirement, but he didn't deign to understand the workings of the system.
However, another of his perks have been largely unused till now due to the lack of ingredients. The Alchemist.
[The Alchemist]
You are an alchemist, an expert at combining reagents to produce mystical effects. Alchemists use their creations to give life and to leech it away. Alchemy is the oldest of artificer traditions, and its versatility has long been valued during times of war and peace.
According to the description, alchemy should be even more versatile than the Battle Smith or the Architect. He was curious to see just what he could do.
Approaching the broken down cottage, he noticed the large amounts of empty skooma bottles littering the floor. A quick investigation revealed the trap door that was semi hidden beneath a cabinet.
Climbing down, it revealed an underground area where empty skooma bottles were even more plentiful. The deeper he went, the worse the smell got. There was sweat, decay, and even a rotting scent that could barely be masked by the sickly sweet aroma of burnt moon sugar.
Faint tendrils of red mist curled through the corridors, which reminded him a lot of the Redbelly Mine. The walls were lined with junkies and dazed-eyed addicts, and none of them were sober.
Gerron wasn't here to seek trouble. While this place was certainly a drug den in every sense of the word, it was also a place where one could get rare alchemical ingredients that are otherwise inaccessible or illegal to get in the major holds.
The moment he entered the room, he went straight to the dealer that stood behind the bar, ignoring the looks that the local residents gave him. He didn't miss the fact that all their eyes were instantly trained on the magical hammer he had swung across his back.
The dealer was a striking Dunmer woman with black hair and red eyes, tall and elegant in a blood-red corset that accentuated her figure. She gave Gerron a sultry smile as he approached.
"Why hello, stranger," she purred, her voice sweet as honey. "What brings you to the Redwater Den?"
Something about her bugged him, but he didn't know what it was.
"Just travelling." Gerron answered cautiously, "I'm looking for things that'll help me and my friends have a good time."
Her full and beautiful lips widened into a smile. "Well then, you've come to the right place. I'm Edna." She leaned forward, her fingers brushing the sleeves of his coat. "And you are?"
"…Gerron."
"A strong name. It suits you." She winked. "Give me a moment. I've got something you might really like."
As she disappeared into a back room, Gerron leaned against the bar to wait as the patrons continued whatever it is they were doing, as snippets of conversation entered his ears.
"...Vigilants getting more active. What do we…"
"…in Dimhollow Crypt. We can't do any…"
Hearing nothing interesting of note, Gerron let his gaze drift to the shelves behind the bar—rows of ingredients, vials, tinctures, and reagents that had the Artificer System going wild in identifying.
[Recipes added]
Potion of Sanguinare Vampiris, Potion of Regenerate Health, Potion of invisibility, Potion of Blood, Potion of….
He blinked. While they were useful potions to have, what had him surprised were the ingredients that were required to make them. Human flesh, human hearts, blood infused with daedric oils and nightshade concentrate.
Before he could ponder more, Edna returned with two bottles in hand—one red as garnet, the other a sickly shade of purple.
"Our signature Redwater Skooma," she said, placing it on the counter. "And this little treat… is Sleeping Tree Sap. Since you're such a handsome man, I'll throw it in for a bargain. Just two hundred septims."
Gerron's gaze narrowed. Gazing at the two bottles, he once again sees something that sent warning bells in his mind.
[Redwater Skooma]
Moon sugar mixed with nightshade, fermented in distilled human blood. Considered a delicacy and is highly addictive to vampires.
'Well, shit.'
That was when the addicts in the room shifted, the previous glassy looks still on their faces. Edna smiled at him then, revealing two fangs that jutted from her upper mouth.
"I usually don't feed on customers since it's bad for business. But something about you just smell so good." Her eyes sharpened dangerously like a predator. Gerron's hands went inside his cloak. "Not to mention that powerful looking hammer. While Venarus finds using weapons such as this an eyesore, having any kind of magical artifact would always strengthen our cause. So be a dear and–Argh!"
Gerron knew all about the vampire charm. He finally realized just what about Edna that bothered him. The longer he had looked at her, the more beautiful she became. The longer he had listened, the more her words became honey to his ears.
So he immediately interrupted her by swiping a dagger from under his cloak right towards her face.
She managed to pull her head back quickly, carving a ragged line from chin to brow instead. She shrieked, stumbling back. "Kill him!" she roared.
The addicts from the room, which Gerron now realized were either vampire thralls or vampires themselves, lunged towards him in a mad rush. A quick glance survey of the room told him there were four thralls and three vampires in the room.
Gerron immediately turned around, flinging his dagger into the closest one and nailing the dagger through the heart of a nord thrall, dropping him instantly,
The other thrall's pulled out various types of weaponry as they charged Gerron, some other vampires, which he identified from their crimson red eyes, stayed at a distance and started flinging spikes of ice from their palms.
He kicked up a table and ducked behind it to block the spikes of ice, though a few passed through and hit his armor. They weren't sharp enough to pierce ebony, but the cold pressing on his body was uncomfortable.
He rose then, hammer in hand.
With one crushing swing, the Mercury Hammer crushed the nearest thrall against the stone wall, spraying crimson across the haze-filled air. A reverse grip handle bash knocked another to the ground as thrusters ignited on the hammer's back, powering a downward strike that shattered the third's skull.
Seeing the other vampires readying another volley of their ice magic, Gerron jumped over the bar to take cover on the other side, the ice slamming onto the cabinets above his head.
He had to swerve his head to the side as Edna slashed at him with sharpened fingers. He grabbed the offending arm and squeezed.
Bone was crushed beneath his fingers. However, instead of feeling pain, she merely gave a fanged grin as her palm opened, revealing the red magic coiling around it. Immediately, he felt his vitality drain as a fatigue he's never felt before weighed in his chest.
'Drain Life…' he thought grimly. 'Damn bloodsuckers.'
It was a good thing the Battle Smith perk gave him enhanced stamina since he knew he would have been immediately weakened otherwise. Instead, he lifted her arm and threw her across the room over the bar, sending her smashing across a few tables.
Unfortunately, the vampires took that chance to send another set of spells to him. This time, a soft pink orb struck him directly.
His mind went blank. The world slowed. His limbs froze as an eerie calm invaded his mind. He struggled to fight the effect.
Edna stood back up with a wide smile, the scar on her face already faded. Her broken arm already healed.
"Well done. You truly are a strong man. To have noticed my attempts to charm you…" She approached the frozen Gerron, his eyes glazed over as the Vampiric Seduction spell took effect. She licked her fangs. "Oh, how I would enjoy having a specimen like you as a thrall. Come pet, Venarus would want to meet you. But first, I would have a taste of that delicious blood."
She leaned in, and the world exploded in golden light.
Edna and the other vampires shrieked in pain as the light burned them where they stood, peeling back their illusion of immortality and turning flesh to ash. Edna collapsed mid-scream, her body disintegrating in a burst of divine fire.
The glaze over his eyes disappeared as Gerron gasped, breath returning as his thoughts cleared.
[Zenithar's Chosen]
Your mind is your own, for none shall command the Chosen of Zenithar. Spells that alter the mind shall no longer have an effect on you.
'By the divines, that was dangerous.' He shook his head as he studied the new words. 'Thank Zenithar. So I'm his Chosen, huh? I guess I don't mind.'
'I'm going to need better protection for magic. I can't let something like this happen again.' While he apparently didn't have to worry about any more seduction or enthralling magic, there were still plenty of dangerous spells out there. Even the few frost spells that the vampires used were uncomfortable, and they were ones that came from relatively weaker vampires.
Gerron shook his head and let out a breath. It was another problem added to the list. With a raised palm, all the alchemical ingredients and potions in the room vanished into his storage space.
He then gazed at the back door behind the bar, the one that Edna had gone to. 'If I'm right, then there's probably a lot more vampires back there. She also mentioned someone called Venarus. Probably the den's master. Most definitely a stronger vampire than her. Should I leave and fight another day? There's definitely a blueprint for magic resistant armor somewhere in the System.'
Redwater Den was relatively close to Shor's Stone. Only a day's travel from his village. He felt uncomfortable in having such a large vampire coven nearby. He shook his head once more.
"…Divines bless me," he muttered. "I'm about to do something stupid."
So with all apprehension, he readied the Mercury Hammer and walked towards the door.
…
4E 201, Bleak Falls Barrow
Kiera Fendalyn
Bleak Falls Barrow was both as impressive and terrifying as she had expected it to be. The ancient nordic tomb was built into the side of the mountain, with massive stairways and gigantic stone pillars that decorated the entrance hall.
Its general location meant that she had to climb quite far to get there, not to mention the howling winds present this high up the mountain.
Camilla from the Riverwood trader was kind enough to guide her to the most probable and climbable path to get there. She wanted to guide her much farther than that, but her brother Lucan was rather adamant that the edge of town was as far as Camilla could go.
After a quick promise to bring their golden claw back, she set off into the distance.
At first, she encountered a rather large group of bandits at the entrance. They were certainly surprised when she arrived, not expecting a lone girl to make the trip up all by herself.
After eyeing her rather high-quality gear, they hurled lewd words at her and threatened to take her weapons and armor. Those words became screams of pain the moment her glowing longsword cleaved through their leather and banded iron armor with ease.
Alteration had always been considered the most versatile of all the schools of magic. Her favorite application was her unique ability to coat her flesh spells onto her weapons, enhancing her silver longsword to be sharper and deadlier.
Many of the interior of Bleak Falls Barrow had fallen into disrepair from the countless decades or even centuries since the tomb was built, but it didn't change the potential of wealth that any brave souls could get for entering its hallowed halls.
She ran into more bandits inside the tomb, a few camping in the entrance hall that she quickly dispatched. None of their rusty iron swords or arrows could pierce her Ironflesh after all.
While she was initially quite saddened that she didn't inherit her mother's talent for Restoration spells—especially considering her mother's reputation as a master of the Restoration arts, with only Collete from the College of Winterhold being her superior—she felt ecstatic when she found out her talents lay in Alteration instead.
She was specifically great at flesh spells. For now, Ironflesh remained as a glow of silverish hue that clung to her like a second skin. However, she is working hard to master the spell and turn her own body–flesh, organs, and all—into solid steel. It was a level of Alteration that is close to reaching.
The one thing she didn't expect nordic tombs to possess were puzzles of all things. Quickly turning the pillar to match the figure etched on one of the walls, the wrought iron gate opened.
'Gotta give the Nords some credit, they make some pretty interesting burial sites.' She mused.
The tomb was also home to plenty of nasty beasts and creatures. Skeevers weren't that much of a threat individually, but they sure as hell were when they came in large swarms.
She had to retreat back while planting Paralysis Runes on the floor to trap them to avoid being swarmed.
She had hoped that was the last she had to deal with annoying little creatures like that.
Of course, her wishes were granted, by having a monstrous spider the size of a mammoth to suddenly drop down from the ceiling on her.
Her faith in Stendarr was tested that very day when she swore that she didn't scream like a little girl.
She had gone further into the tomb and found the thief that stole Lucan and Camilla's golden claw, a dunmer called Arvel. The only problem was that he was stuck in thick webs that immobilized him from head to toe.
That was when the spider had appeared.
She let out a curse as she was forced to dodge from a large leg that slammed into her position, cracking the stone beneath her. Ideally, the most optimal choice here would be to run since slaying this beast yielded little to no benefits. However, thief he may be, leaving a defenseless man to become spider food would leave a bad taste in her mouth.
Reapplying Ironflesh on her sword, she stepped forward and cut three of the spider's legs in a single swing. An unholy shriek came from the creature as she spat out a large glob of venom, one that Kiera was forced to duck.
'Of course this thing could spit out venom, cause why not, right?'
It was one of the vulnerabilities of the flesh spells. While it did really well in protecting someone from physical harm, it did nothing to stop poisons or venoms from entering her body.
Stepping to the side to avoid a set of mandibles that stabbed towards her, she stabbed Dawnbite straight through the spider's oversized head. There was a squelch as she pierced whatever brain matter was in there before the spider slumped, dead.
Letting out an audible sigh, she grabbed a rag and cleaned her sword from the blood that covered it. Skyrim certainly was as crazy as her mother explained it to be.
Don't get her wrong, she had killed her fair share of monsters in Cyrodiil. Basilisks and minotaurs were aplenty in the Heart of the Empire, but giant spiders and dragons were new to her.
Now that that was done, Kiera went to cut down Arvel from the webs. The moment she did, Arvel immediately laughed in her face and ran deeper into the tomb calling her foolish and naive.
Kiera was truly baffled by the display. Did he not just see her cut down a massive spider that had trapped him previously?
A single wave of her hand had the man paralyzed mid running stance. He fell down unceremoniously as she walked to his prone form and grabbed the claw from his hand.
Walking ahead, she decided to leave the man to his fate. He had spat on her kindness. A woman of faith and protector she may be, but she wasn't foolish nor naive enough to save those that didn't want to save themselves. She had learned that lesson a long time ago.
Going even deeper into the tombs, she finally found the draugrs. History books say that the draugr were nordic warriors in ages long past that had betrayed their own kin and served the dragons instead.
This treachery led to them being cursed by their ancestors, forever incapable in reaching Sovngarde like many of their people wish to do. Instead, they are forced to remain in the world of the living for eternity, becoming the undead creatures known as draugr.
It was a cruel fate, even if it was deserved. Seeing a dragon just a week ago in Helgen, she at least understood why they did it.
Kiera had just met one dragon and felt the helplessness that many no doubt felt. She couldn't imagine what it would be like back then when the dragons were at the height of their power.
Luckily, these draugr shared none of their masters' strength. Cleansing the tomb of their presence proved no trouble for her.
She knew she had arrived near the end of the tomb when she arrived in the famed Hall of Stories. The walls had carvings depicting the times when the dragons had ruled, proven by the ancient draconic script that accompanied the carvings as they told stories of events that happened in those times.
She was very interested in learning these stories, but unfortunately for her, she couldn't understand a single word of the dragon tongue, much less its scripture.
At the end of the hall was another puzzle door, which had filled her with a little giddiness. Solving them was a fun kind of brain teaser that she wouldn't get anywhere else, she found herself enjoying them.
'Now let's see here…three sliding rings, each with a symbol of an animal. A button in the center with an imprint of a claw.'
A very familiar claw.
Pulling out the golden claw that she clasped on her belt, her hands rose to spin the rings to match the images that were on the bottom of the claw. Once that was done, she pushed the claw against the main button and twisted.
The door groaned loudly as it started to lower. The moment it did, a wave of dark, vile energy wafted past her that came from the singular coffin by the strange wall.
She held Dawnbite tight as her other arm went for a magicka potion and drank it in one large gulp. Whatever was here was a great deal stronger than anything she had faced prior.
With her magicka refilled, she didn't hesitate in applying one of the strongest spells she has in her repertoire. "Ebonyflesh."
A dark aura wrapped around her body like armor, a similar glow appearing on her sword. Immediately she could feel her reserves dropping to nearly drained. She wouldn't be using any more spells for the rest of the fight.
Now clad in her most powerful defensive spell, she walked forward cautiously. The moment she reached a certain threshold, the coffin burst open as a towering Draugr climbed out.
It certainly looked menacing; rusted heavy armor covered its form as a massive war axe rested over its back. She spotted a light blue glow coming from the weapon, which told her of the potential frost enchantment attached to it.
Kiera rushed forward, aiming to catch it off guard. Imagine her surprise when the draugr took a deep breath instead of brandishing his weapon.
"FUS RO DAH!" A massive wave of force emanated from its mouth that launched Kiera back dozens of meters. Her back hit the walls of the cavern that knocked the breath out of her lungs.
Clutching her head in pain, she looked up to see the draugr approaching her with the axe in hand. Kiera immediately went back up and charged, lunging with her sword that the draugr sidestepped.
She followed up with an overhead swing that it parried with the blade of the axe. Its arm flew forward and grabbed her neck before lifting and slamming her to the ground.
She let out an oof as her head met the floor. She jerked her head to the side, narrowly missing the axe that cleaved the area where her head had been, the stone freezing slightly from the point of impact.
Stabbing her sword upwards, she was pleasantly surprised to see it piercing the draugr all the way through, the ebonyflesh enhanced sword easily cleaving the armor that it wore. The undead warrior staggered back from the injury as Kiera kicked it off her, sending it stumbling backwards.
Getting back up quickly, she utilized its lapse in concentration to dash forward and swing her sword. The draugr lifted her axe to parry once more, only for her to pull back from the feint and cleave both of its arms in a single swing.
The arms and axe went flying before falling with a metallic clang somewhere in the cavern. She didn't care to see where it ended up, for her blade was already swinging for the draugr's neck.
Its eyes shone with defiance as the draugr's mouth opened once more. "FUS RO D–!"
It was too late. She cleaved its head off with one mighty swing, the bony head of the undead creature thudding to the floor.
Her breaths came heavy as she calmed her nerves. She sheathed her sword back in its scabbard as she gave a small respectful nod to the draugr. Despite its existence being an abomination, he must've been a great warrior prior to his curse.
That was when she started to hear whispers echoing throughout the cavern. A quick glance had her determine the source. The strange curved wall, with strange letterings that was similar to the script in the Hall of Stories.
The closer she went, the heavier the whispers became. It came to the point where it became chants, her gaze focusing on a single inscription written on the Word Wall.
Kiera's eyes glaze over as wisps of white, orange, and blue energy rush into her body from the glowing word.
It merely lasted a few seconds, and large gasps came out of her as she snapped into focus. 'By Stendarr, what was that?'
Knowledge of something she didn't recognize filled her mind. Suddenly, she found herself understanding the glowing word that was written on the wall. Everything else remained incomprehensible to her.
'Fus, force.'
She remembered the draugr she had fought saying the same words. Is this the Thu'um she now has in her possession? How did that come to be?
Whatever the case, it is a problem for later. Right now, she needed to go back to Riverwood and then make her way to Whiterun.
Emptying the treasure chest of all valuables, she put everything into her sack for safe keeping. The gold, the jewels, the enchanted war axe, and the stone carved with the strange markings.
She didn't know what it was, but it seemed important.
Exiting Bleak Falls Barrow through a hidden exit, she breathed in the snowy landscapes of Skyrim, relishing in the cold yet refreshing air.
'That was a fun adventure. I wonder what else Skyrim has in store—'
The massive beating of wings disrupted the snow around her as a dragon—much smaller than the one in Helgen—suddenly barreled into the air in front of her.
There was only one thing on her mind as she gazed at its bronze colored scales.
'You've got to be fucking kidding me.'
…
AN: Pretty big chapter here, almost twice the size of my regular chapters at 4200 words.
Gerron and Kiera both are facing things pretty crazy. A vampire lord and a dragon not even 10 chapters in should do wonders for their experience.
As always, more chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 18 should be available by the time this chapter was posted. Just look up my name and you'll find me.
Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Cheers!