'Idiots, every single one of them.' The wanderer thought to himself as he unequipped his armor in his new room. After helping to retrieve the Heart, he was asked by a council to lead the city, though on closer inspection of the terms, his power was almost non-existent. The were probably looking for a way to chain him to the city as a protector. No way in hell that was happening. After so many years stuck with only two islands to wander, he was going to explore again. They were on the verge of panic, most of the city still shaking from a nightmare they couldn't remember, and to lose such a powerful being to wanderlust? He managed to settle them down by promising to magically mark his room, allowing him to teleport back to the city in case of an attack. In that vein, he'd asked if they had some way to contact him, and the council had provided him with a triangular amethyst imbued with a simple alert spell. The gem would glow and emit a soft tone when its brother was activated. With the assurance that their super soldier wouldn't be out of reach, he finally convinced the council to not try to physically stop him (not that they could).
A brand new world, full of things that didn't exist back on Nirn and, and where ever he came from before. That had been brought up as well at the meeting; his name. He couldn't for the life of him remember it, as he'd been called by his titles for so long they were all he remembered.
Moon and Star, Nerevarine, Saint Neravar, Arch-Mage, Master of the Fighters Guild, General of the Imperial Legion, Spymaster of the Blades, and Grandmaster of House Hlaalu, and his personal favorite, Outlander. But none of those mattered here, strange as it was to admit. He was now in a world with no link to Nirn, and thus all of his accomplishments were unknown to the locals. In the end it suited him just fine, but one couldn't go around calling themselves a high ranking member of a group that didn't exist in this world, could they? He supposed he'd just take a new name. What was one more to add to his list? The ponies seemed to like the idea of two words that were in no way suited for names, so he should probably go with something similar.
'The names always seemed to be related to their jobs too, oddly enough. Do they change their names every time they get a new job? Seems like a waste of time to me. Ah well, what do I do well? Stealth obviously, but I can also match most monsters I've met head on now that I've gotten some good gear and learned how to fight. Stealth Assault? Sneaky Punch? Sneak Attack Criti- no, that was an attack bonus. What about Hidden Strike?'
As he pondered these things, he lowered himself into a prepared bath, the warm water sending tingles up and down his strange body. By the Nine, the wonders of a hot bath. It felt wonderful no matter what you were. Relaxing into the warm waters, he made his plans. He'd leave some of his more abstract gear in this room under a powerful lock spell( which he, of course, knew the counter to by heart) and would journey south to the other lands of the world. There was still that second heavy presence he'd felt to the south, and the longer he thought about it, the stronger the pull of his curiosity became. After all, the first powerful presence was a barrier that was sealing off an entire city. Would the second source be just as fantastic? The idea of wandering a new world seeking adventure thrilled him. Dozing in the luxury of hot water, his alien ears flicked at the sound of the howling winds picking up outside, hiding the storm outside from view. Under the water his lips curled into a smile.
Cloaked Storm it is.'
<-(0)->
The next morning he was woken from his sleep by a rapid knocking at the door. Moving the fluffy blankets he'd immersed himself in after his bath, he wobbled sleepily over to the door, to be greeted by a servant that offered to escort him to the dining hall for breakfast.
"Will there be pancakes?" the outlander asked? The servant seemed confused a moment, but nodded.
Storm grinned at the ideas of more foods he hadn't had in years. "And bacon?" That seemed to confuse the butler, as he just stood there looking lost. Storm became irate, though. What idiot has never heard of bacon? It was wonderful, beautiful, a crisp, delicious...meat. Oh, yea that may do it. His ears flattened at the realization. Most of the locals were probably herbivores. His poor Clanfear. Wait, was he an herbivore now? Rushing over to the mirror in the room, he used the flats of his hooves to push his lips back, getting a good view of his teeth. Strangely, they seemed similar to his old teeth. What had changed, were his eyes.
"How the hell did I not see that before?" He muttered. Gazing back at him were two green eyes with slit pupils. It seemed to solidify his predatory heritage. Bacon was a go, and all was right in the world. Unless pigs talked. Oh god he hoped they didn't talk. What kind of world has talking cows and pigs? How would he enjoy a cheeseburger when the creature it was made from could ask him how his day was?
"Sir? Are you well?"
The wanderer snapped out of his musings at the inquiry, turning to the servant. "Yea, yea I'm good, just still learning what changes occurred when I busted out of that hell hole."
The servant raised an eyebrow at the remark. He'd been told to expect some odd remarks and quirks from the stallion, but the mad pony was starting to wear on him.
<-(0)->
Breakfast was a rather interesting affair. The utensils were similar to those used by bipeds in other worlds, yet the ponies managed to pick them up with the magic hooves. Already having done it by accident, Storm managed to eat relatively easily, before throwing his plans in the face of the current ruler. Unsurprisingly she seemed upset, the mare swearing to lock him out of the city if he left so soon, but was soon settled by a few nearby lords and ladies.
They'd seen the road outside of town, right at the edge of the barrier. On one side the road was pristine, on the other it was gone. Not buried under snow, but simply not there anymore, eroded by time. Having been brought up during the meeting the previous night, Storm had mentioned the barrier he'd come across while looking for the town, as well as his involvement in breaking it. So when he'd mentioned his desire to leave, the nobility asked that he contact whatever civilizations now existed to the south to possibly renew trade agreements, and was made the unofficial diplomat until such a time that the kingdom could find a proper politician to do the job.
"At least I have my freedom again, even if it's on a flimsy leash." Cloaked Storm said. It wasn't like he couldn't break contact with the kingdom if he needed to. After all, he could easily slip into the shadows, never to be seen again if he so chose. Wait a couple decades, come back for his gear, most likely in long term storage, and leave. And that was if he decided to not just walk in with his stealth armor on. It would be a piece of cake.
At that last thought he drooled, even as he stepped through the shimmering barrier and slipped on his cold resistance bangle and his stealth armor. "Oh god, cake. I haven't had one of those in soooo long."
Giggling madly at the thoughts of foods barely remembered, the displaced being trotted merrily through the blizzard, a blur in the morning light humming a lively tune to itself despite the desolate landscape that surrounded it.