//------------------------------//
// Prologue: Elder Scrolls and Buckets. 
// Story: Song of the Nightingale. 
// by ArchAIngel 
//------------------------------//

	Theresa laughed as she waltzed through the guards, Castle Dour held no challenge for those with the Blessing of Nocturnal, the Mistress of Night. After all, how could you stop a being who you could not see, hear, touch or smell? The agent of stealth walked up to the great vault door, a smirk on her face. She took out her lockpicks, and began the touchy process of dealing with a master-forged lock. After she broke her fifth pick, she stepped back and frowned, examining the lock more closely. It was made of brass, and yet there was something familiar about it. She look more closely, and furrowed her brows in anger, for she saw the angular writing of the Dwemer, irritating little pests. Grumbling, she drew her dagger, a blade forged by Dagon himself. Nocturnal was not above allowing her servants to use the tools of other daedra, so long as they used them for her purposes.

"Sigh, time to go for brute force. I hate this method." She slashed the lock, right above the mechanism, causing it to fall to the floor with a great thud.
"Damnit! Now every damn guard in the damned place will be after me! Better be quick..."
She stepped into the vault, closing the door and welding it shut with a few seconds of flames and sparks mixed together in a plasma glob. "Heh, see them get through that! Aaaannnddd I just sealed myself in. Fuck. Oh well, time to loot!"
She begins grabbing various gems, gold bars, coins, and valuable enchanted items.
"Ebony bars, flawless diamonds, gold coins and some nice elemental salts to round off the mix. Ain't life grand when you get to take whatever you want?" she says to herself.
"Now, to get out of here. Hmm, maybe one of these books does something?" She flips through the pages of several books, idly examining the titles. "Alteration books, meh. Destruction, nothing powerful enough to blow through the door. Restoration, useless here. Illusion, also useless. Ah, here we go! Conjuration!  Teleportation through Oblivion to Nirn, by a Psijic monk . This should work! Now, how do I do this?"

Half an hour later
"Bloody guards, that ram wont bust this door for months! Just shut up!" Theresa yelled. "Assholes. Now, lets see what this ritual spell does. Wish that the book had been clearer about how it worked. Now, I need something powerful to substitute for all the other crap it needs, like sigil stones and stuff. Ah ha!" She pulls out her elder scroll, and places it in the center. "Now, infuse it with Conjuration magic, and then.. Ah!" The Wabbajack slides out of her backpack, clatters to the floor, and sends out a blast of energy. " Shiiiii-" The pentagram glows, and the Elder Scroll, Theresa, the Wabbajack, and about half a ton of vault vanish in a burst of magic, blowing the vault door out and ripping the guards apart, several losing limbs, and one losing the entire upper body. The floor is slick with blood, and a mage finally arrives. He examines the ritual, and tries to remember what little he knew about the details of the oblivion crisis...

Theresa's point of view
"-iiittttt. Well, now where am I?"