The Dragonstone arc IV: Freaking zombies man
Fenora and Stross descended deeper into the ancient tunnels of Bleak Falls Barrow. The stone archways that held up the ceiling had been overcome by large creeping roots that spread all the way across the floors, and huge spiderwebs formed barriers across entire hallways. The further down they went, the more roots invaded through the stone ceilings, allowing water to drip down into the stone chambers. A couple passageways had even collapsed from disrepair years ago, and were now completely overgrown.
Once they got deeper in by a mix of shifting rubble, and simply hacking their way through vines and webbing, the two of them happened across a room with the exit barred by a grate.
Spotting the obvious lever in the center of the room, Stross went to pull. But Fenora quickly stopped him.
“What?” he asked.
Fenora smirked. “First time dungeon delving, my little changeling? It’s too easy. Just look around, there’s way more going on here than just a lever.”
Stross looked around and found that there were a set of carved pillars with animal pictures on them. They seemed to match a set of carved faces on the walls with the same animals set into their stone mouths, but one had been damaged, and was now laying on the floor below.
Fenora nodded. “Yeah, that looks like a combination.” she then pointed out a series of small metal holes set in the surrounding walls that Stross had glazed over. “And I bet those holes up there…” Fenora threw the switch and quickly dove away. A second later while the ground was pelted with a hail of the tiny needles. “Yep, poisoned darts. Ancient trap-makers just loved their poisoned darts.”
“So let me get this straight, we just need to match that combination up there: snake, snake, fish thingy.” Stross pointed to the stone heads, “On the pillars over there.” he pointed to the rotatable pillars.
“Pretty much.” Fenora said and brushed her hair out of her face.
“That’s stupid.” Stross said, “Like… really stupid. It couldn’t keep anyone out of this place. It’s not even difficult, just a waste of time really. Why’d they even put it here?”
“Maybe it’s not to keep someone out, but to keep something in.” Fenora said cryptically. “Woo-oo-oo-ooooo…” she added with a smile.
The way she said it made Stross shiver. “Fen? What do you mean ‘keep something in’?” he asked while the elf set the correct combination.
On the other side of he gate, Fenora spotted a small wooden chest. Seeing as how no one would be down here for a very long time, she decided they might as well take whatever was inside.
Unfortunately, it was locked.
“Oh, damn it.” she swore, “Stupid locks. Why does everything have to be locked?”
“Hmm,” Stross thought aloud, his changeling sneakiness kicking in, “maybe I could try and pick the lock to get it open. Do you have any small pieces of metal I could use to work the mechan-“
He was interrupted by a shout as Fenora brought the sword down on the lid, smashing through the old rotten wood. She flashed a grin his way as she retrieved the contents of the chest.
“Or just… do that.” Stross sputtered, “What’d you find?”
“Fifty-three septims... a pair of steel daggers and a set of leather armor that’s seen better days…” Fenora listed off as she removed the items and pocketed them, “...a couple potions, and a lot of dust.”
Stross looked questioningly at the two bottles of thick green liquid still covered in a thin layer of dirt. “Are you sure those are still good. I mean, who knows how long they’ve been sitting down here?”
Fenora just looked at him like he was crazy. “Potions don’t go bad Stross. Not as long as you keep them sealed tight enough.” She said and tapped the corks.
“Oh.” Stross mumbled, "Seems legit."
"Same thing with random cheese wedges!" Fenora said, holding up a block she pulled from the chest. "Food stays good for decades as long as you put it in a chest!"
"Fen don't-"
But she had already eaten the wedge of cheese in a single bite.
“You know," Stross commented after a while, "you really seem in your element down here.”
Fenora laughed a little. “I guess. I’ve got some experience when it comes to treasure hunting. My father was a treasure hunter, actually.”
“Oh, do tell.” Stross said, showing his interest.
“Trey Sure-finder,” Fenora said and shook her head with a smile, “He gave himself the name as some corny joke, but after a while it was a name that everyone knew and respected. He wasn’t even the best treasure hunter, but he was a quick learner, and an amazing teacher. He was the one that would lead expeditions into old buried ruins, and teach the newer members all the little tips and tricks that would keep you alive a little bit longer, or help you stuff just a bit more loot into your pack.
"And then he joined an archeological dig, they unleashed an ancient curse and woke an army of the dead. Everyone else was slaughtered and he lost three of his limbs, leaving him to crawl his way through a sweltering desert for five whole days.”
“Ouch.” Stross cringed.
“But it wasn’t all bad. A blind bosmer named Elaura found him and healed his wounds. Things happened with them. And nine months later, I was born.” Fenora then continued with a big sarcastic grin, “And now I’m here! Barely escaped an execution with my life and trying to convince the stupid Nord-folk that they’re going to be killed by fire-breathing monsters! Ain’t life just grand?”
Stross’s ear twitched and he stopped her mid rant. “Hey, do you hear that? Listen.”
The two of them strained their ears for a moment, and indeed, they heard someone shouting for help. “Is someone there? Is that you Harknir, Bjorn, Soling? Anyone, everyone, I know I ran ahead with the claw, but I need help, please.” The voice called out.
They hurried to the end of the tunnel, the amount of webs intensifying as they went. It got to the point that their feet got stuck to the ground as they walked.
Fenora drew her sword again and slashed the webs that had been plastered over a doorway. It took several swings, as her sword could only cut so far before the sheer amount of webbing caught her sword, and she had to pull it free before winding up the next slice. But soon enough they were through, stepping into what was clearly the lair of at least several million spiders… or perhaps just one big one. At least it was well lit by the giant hole high up in the ceiling.
At the far end of the room, they saw a bandit cocooned against a wall.
“That must be the bandit the others were talking about.” Fenora pointed out. “The one who took the claw."
“Yes! The claw!” he exclaimed as they approached, “I know how it all works! The claw, the symbols in the hall of stories, all of it! Cut me down and I’ll share the treasure with you.” he bargained, “Just hurry before- oh no, here it comes again!”
When they turned to see what he was talking about, they were greeted by an enormous spider dropping down from the open sky-light. It hissed and snarled as it walked towards them, its legs making a horrid popping noise with each and every step, and they noticed an iron dagger lodged in one of its eyes.
“EEK!” Stross shrieked and shoved Fenora towards it, “Oh by the Fallen, kill it! Kill it!”
“Fine! Geez!” Fenora snapped as she gripped the greatsword and stared down the massive thing as it clicked its mandibles and made swiping motions with its legs.
The spider was the first to attack, lunging forward trying to grab the elf with its legs. But Fenora was able to quickly dodge to the side, bringing the sword with her as she severed one of the reaching limbs. Then she just as quickly spun around and hacked off another.
Now missing its two foremost legs, the frostbite spider hissed in anger and threw itself and the full weight of its body at Fenora.
This time she was unable to get out of the way, and found herself pinned under the thrashing arachnid. As the spider reared its face back and bore its fangs, she brought the flat of her sword up to keep it at bay while it snapped and hissed in her face.
“Urk… a little help here!” Fenora called. The spider’s venom was dripping around the edges of her blade and onto her face. Already she could feel the burning chill from the green substance where it touched her skin.
Then Stross’s head popped up on top of the frostbite spider’s. His horn glowed and an orb of light stuck to the spider’s face. Fenora closed her eyes just on reflex and waited for a bang.
But instead of a bang and a blinding flash of light, there was instead a muted pop and a loud hiss of agony from the spider. As Fenora felt the weight shift off of her, she looked up to see a jet of flaring white light shining down on the spider’s face as it flailed and hissed in pain. Then she realized that the light was actually melting through it!
A couple seconds later and it fell to the ground, a couple of its remaining legs still twitching.
“Well that’s… new.” Stross said in surprise. “Do you think it’s dead yet?”
Fenora took a second to look over the corpse. She sighed in disappointment when she saw that the whole head had dissolved into a burnt puddle of mush. Some bottles of frostbite venom could have been useful later on. “Yeah Stross, I think you got it.”
“Thank goodness! I hate those things no matter what size they come in.” Stross said and shivered, “All those freaking legs.”
“Aren’t you some kind of bug too though?” Fenora pointed out. “Aren’t spiders like… your distant cousins or something.”
“That’s racist.” Stross said.
“No… it’s species-ist.” Fenora corrected him.
“If you two are done bantering, could you cut me down already?!” Arvel yelled from behind, offended that they had forgotten him.
“Oh, right… you.” Fenora said with a frown as she sauntered over to where the dumner thief had been imprisoned by a thick cocoon of spider web. “What to do with you? You’re the one that took the claw, leading to Camilla coming to get it back only to get captured by your scumbag friends. We could just gut you right now and take it back.” she told him, leveling the tip of her blade at his neck, grinning when he squirmed away from it.
“Oooo-or, we could let him go so he can take us to the treasure!” suggested Stross as he nudged the blade away.
“Or we could kill him now so he doesn’t stab us in the back later.” Fenora told him with a dead serious expression.
“Fenora please,” Stross pleaded and took her hands in his, “I know you don't like bandits, but you already killed all the others, and he’s willing to help us... at least for now. Just this once?”
Fenora rolled her eyes, knowing that for one, this was totally idiotic and going to bite them both in the ass later. And two, she wasn’t the one that killed all the other bandits.
Man it was going to hit Stross hard when she told him the truth about what happened.
“Alright. But he stays in front at all times and doesn’t make a move unless I tell him to.” Fenora begrudgingly agreed and snapped her head towards Arvel, “Got it!?”
Arvel quickly nodded several times, and Fenora raised her sword to get cutting. Stross was quicker though, and with his changeling talons he made quick work of the cocoon, revealing in the process that there was actually a door hidden behind Arvel the whole time.
“Ah, thank you both. It feels great to be able to move my legs again!” Arvel said as he stretched, hearing a few pops from his joints. “And thank you again for sparing my life, you won’t regret it.”
“Don’t get chummy. Move.” Fenora ordered and pointed through the newly exposed door. “Oh and, I’ll be taking this.” She said as she took the golden claw from Arvel, “For safe keeping.”
And so, the three of them continued on. Stross was curious about the little clay urns with decorative tops that were showing up with increasing frequency. Aside from a few shriveled up pieces of meat, he found quite a few gold pieces by popping them open. He giggled to himself, wondering why anyone would hide presents down in a place like this.
He also decided to take along some of the interesting metal tools he’d found on the tables. They reminded him of ones foals used for arts and crafts, and so he took one of each: a hook on a long stick, a pair of scissors, a curvy metal spiral, and a small sharp blade likely for making precision cuts.
It was then that he noticed Fenora giving him an odd look.
“What? He asked cluelessly.
But Fenora just quickly looked away and kept moving.
It wasn’t until they reached the next chamber that Stross actually got a look at their surroundings. Lit by braziers near the ceiling above (don’t ask me how they stayed lit), Stross could see the many alcoves carved into the walls… and their occupants.
Stross gasped at the realization. “This is a tomb.”
“Well yeah,” Fenora said as though it were obvious, “Why do you think it’s called Bleak Falls Barrow? I thought you knew that when you looted those burial jars and took those embalming tools back there.”
“Embalming tools?” Stross asked and pulled out the scissors and knives.
Once again Fenora rolled her eyes. “You’re not too versed on ancient burial rites, are you?” she sighed, “The Nords thought that if they removed the organs from their dead and put them in special jars before they entombed them, that they could stop them from coming back as vengeful spirits. Some would even bury them with their belongings or make offerings to keep them peaceful. Not like it actually works though.”
“So you mean these tools… and those jars… and that dried meat! That was-“ Stross started shaking, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
“Stross, don’t start getting sick on me just yet. We’ve still got to walk through this house of the dead.” Fenora said and gave him an encouraging pat on the back.
“Alright. Alright I can do this, I-“ suddenly Stross noticed something and slipped into his changeling senses. Fenora was her usual mix of blues and grays, while Arvel was a nervous shade of green and yellow, but he could see ahead of them that there were many more soul lights, most so dim and weak he was surprised they were still lit.
“What’s up?” Fenora asked.
“There’s something else up ahead,” Stross told them “Whatever they are, they’re alive. But it’s… wrong somehow.”
“Could it be more bandits?” Fenora asked.
“No way!” Arvel cut in, “Even we’re not crazy enough to live down here with all the dead things.”
“It’s really strange, it feels so cold and empty compared to any other life I’ve sensed.” Stross said as he walked over to one of the burial crevices, “It feels like it’s coming from these corpses, but that can’t be righ-“
Suddenly, the corpse grabbed Stross, latching onto his face with its decomposing fingers.
“Braaaains. Umm, I mean… Aav dilon.” it said as it grabbed him with its other arm as well.
Stross let out a high-pitched shriek as he tried to stun the draugr with his magic. The spell hit the corpse warrior square in the face, but it didn’t seem to do anything to its dead shriveled flesh at all.
The draugr opened its mouth and groaned at him, giving Stross the unpleasant view of its slimy, decomposing tongue and the stench of death from deep in its throat.
In a moment of panic, Stross remembered the embalming tools he still had on him, grabbed the long twisted one and shoved it through the bottom of the draugr’s chin and into its upper skull cavity.
He kicked away from the corpse as it tried to pull the utensil out again. But as it did, Fenora was already upon it with her greatsword, and beheaded it with one well-placed swing. The head rolled away from where its body slumped, and the pale blue light faded from its pearl-like dead eyes.
Stross gasped for breath a few seconds before he jabbed a finger at the headless zombie. “What in Tartatus was that?! I thought these things were supposed to be dead! What with all the embalming, and the jars, and the no coming back nonsense?!”
“Yeah, and remember how I said it doesn’t actually work?” Fenora reminded him, “Let’s just hope there aren’t too many more of these things in here.”
“Why are there so many of these damned things in here?!” Fenora shouted angrily as she cleaved another of the wandering dead in twain.
The next few rooms turned out to be more winding catacombs filled to the brim with draugr. Using a sword he’d found, Stross had been sneaky enough to finish some of them before they woke. But more often he wasn't able to kill them in one hit, and Fenora had to finish them off. Arvel had been kind enough to be completely usele- I mean… stay out of the way.
The three of them snuck, stabbed and hacked their way through a few more rooms filled with draugr, a river that led to a frozen cave filled with draugr, and finally a tunnel with a ton of glowing mushrooms growing on the walls. Stross immediately picked several, stuffed them in his mouth, got sick, and was scolded by Fenora for eating weird plants off the walls. Also it was filled with draugr.
“Freaking zombies, right? Can’t live with them, and they can’t live… cause they’re dead!” Stross said with a cackle, waiting for Fenora to join in. When she didn’t he just let out a sigh, and looked to a series of orange-painted jars suspended right above a trio of draugr archers by a very flimsy rope.
“What I want to know is why there are so many traps and jars of oil just hanging around.” He said as he used his magic to throw a piece of broken metal at it. The force from the throw was all it took to send the jar crashing to the floor where it shattered, and the combustible contents erupted into a roaring flame that incinerated the undead underneath. “Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
Truthfully, utilizing the traps had made the journey easier. Some of the rooms had pressure plates that triggered walls of spikes, swinging axes, or simple patches of highly flammable oil covering the floor. Useful tricks when used properly, but a pain in the flank for when they inevitably had to get past them.
“They're probably here to keep these things from getting out, or maybe to discourage graverobbers.” Fenora theorized. “The person I want to punch is whoever thought to bury these things with their weapons and armor.”
“Hey, now that you mention it, I think I’m recognizing a pattern here. Only the ones wearing clothes are getting up to attack us.” Stross pointed out.
“Are you being serious?” Fenora asked as she gave a nearby draugr a sword to the face before it could do the same to her.
“Totally serious. Look,” Stross walked over to a drauger resting in an alcove, bound by its cocoon of linen wraps. He gave it a cautious tap on the skull. “See? This one isn’t wearing anything, and it’s out like a light. But that one,” he pointed to another on the far side of the room, “has its armor and weapons with it.”
Deciding to humor him, Fenora pulled out a bow she’d acquired during their trek and fired an arrow into it. Sure enough, the drauger woke up and began to climb out of its crevice.
“Huh, that’s good to know.” Fenora said as she fired another arrow and finished it off.
“You know… I wonder.” Stross said and picked up a sword and shield and moved to the mummified draugr.
The second he placed the weapons on top of the bundle the draugr’s eyes sparked to life and it started thrashing against its bonds. Stross let out an ‘eep’ of surprise and backed up.
Fenora facepalmed while the draugr exploded out of the linen wraps, grabbed the shield and bashed Stross upside the head with it. She knocked an arrow and let it fly into its head.
After making it through the final set of tombs, they finally made it to what Arvel referred to as the hall of stories, a large empty room with intricate carvings on the walls. The murals depicting some sort of embalming and entombing process that ended with an ascension into a light in the sky. Stross wasn’t sure what it all meant, and Fenora only had a couple theories, but that didn’t really matter, as their goal was now in sight.
But before they could make their way to the door at the end of the room, Arvel snatched snatched the claw off Fenora’s belt, shoved her down and ran ahead of them.
“You fools!” he shouted back with a laugh as he placed the golden claw into the keyhole, “I found the treasure, and I’m not sharing it with anyone!”
It would seem that karma had a way of catching up however, as the second Arvel turned the claw, he was pelted with poisoned darts from the walls encircling the doors. He gasped as the poison rushed through his veins, and fell to the floor. A second later, he was dead.
Fenora gave Stross an ‘I told you so’ glance.
Stross returned it with one of sullen acknowledgment.
Together they walked up and took the claw off the twice traitorous thief, and pondered how they themselves would get through the door. The dragonstone was surely on the other side after all.
“It’s probably these symbols on the door.” Stross spied the animal images on the rotating rings, “We probably need to put them in the right order just like the gate from before. If I adjust each one in by one rotation at a time, and use my magic to turn the claw from a safe distance, then by process of elimination I can-“
Once again, Fenora interrupted his ramblings. Quickly adjusting the panels to bear, moth, owl, she then turned the claw.
“Nnnnnnnoooooo!” Stross yelled dramatically and grabbed his elf friend, diving away from the door before the hail of darts could kill her.
Any second now…
Any… Second…
...Now?
Then, instead of the sound of tiny poisoned needles hitting stone, he heard the doors mechanisms grinding, and looked up to see the whole thing slide into the floor, allowing them to move forward.
“What the- How did you know?” Stross asked Fenora.
Fenora simply held up the claw, revealing the correct combination on the under-side.
“Oh… that’s a really obscure place to put a combination.” Stross said, “And really stupid. I mean, who puts the combination for a door on the key?”
“I don’t know Stross, but… could you maybe, get off me now?” Fenora asked, a blush spreading across her face.
Stross looked at the position they were in for a moment. Then he looked back at her with a cheeky grin, lowering himself on top of her, resting his chin just above her cleavage. “Hmm, I dunno. You’re really comfortable.”
“Stross,” Fenora began with a smile and cupped Stross’s cheek in her palm.
“Yeah?” he said dreamily.
Then Fenora grabbed his waist, gave a heave and flipped both of them over in a single motion. “I prefer to be on top.” She said and pecked his nose before getting up and walking through the door, leaving the changeling blushing furiously before he followed.
The main burial chamber was actually quite beautiful, if not also foreboding. Holes in the ceiling let daylight inside, and waterfalls rushed down the rocks surrounding a massive black wall. In front of this wall was an ornate metal coffin like many they’d seen in the tombs. Next to that… a chest.
This is naturally were they checked first, searching the chest and the nearby pedestals, both of them waiting for the coffin to burst open at any second like the ones they'd passed before. It never did, and to their disappointment the dragonstone was not there. Suddenly regretting the fact that they hadn’t asked Farengar what the dragonstone even looked like, Stross and Fenora set about searching the rest of the chamber.
...
“What the ‘Blivion did we miss?!” Fenora yelled up to the sky peeking down through the rocks. She’d found nothing but two additional chests behind the waterfalls, each containing more minor loot, but nothing that looked even remotely like a dragonstone.
“I dunno, but check out what I can do!” Stross said from the table where he sat swinging his legs over the edge.
He raised his hand and a small plume of flame ignited between his fingers. He’d found a spell tome inside the big chest and decided to flip through a page or two, finding out shortly after that there were only two pages to read.
“I always thought that learning new spells was supposed to be hard. But those unicorns in Equestria were totally wrong! I just had to get the basic concept and play around with it a little until it worked!” Stross said as he happily juggled a trio of tiny fireballs.
“Stross, that’s great… but I really don’t care.” Fenora said. She laid down on the floor and spread her arms and legs out with a sigh, “What do you think we should do?”
“You’re asking me?” Stross gave her a quizzical look.
“Well you’re the one that insisted we not leave Skyrim until they were made perfectly aware of their imminent demise by dragon. So yes, I’m asking you. What are we supposed to do?”
Stross hummed thoughtfully for a moment. “We could try and convince the Jarl to let us take just one… or maybe two of his guards back to what’s left of Helgen so that they can see that it’s really gone.” Stross suggested, but quickly shook his head, “But that still wouldn’t prove that a dragon did it.
“Hadvar and Ralof were there when it happened. But I’m not sure if Balgruuf would believe them since they’re both part of that whole rebellion thing; he might even think it’s some kind of trick to make him choose a side. They might not even be able to make it all the way to Whiterun without breaking into a fight anyway.”
Stross parked his train of thought for a moment and looked at Fenora. “I’m throwing ideas to see if they stick. Feel free to join in any time.”
“Sorry,” Fenora apologized, “I just can’t think with all this stupid chanting.”
“What chanting?” Stross asked and hopped down from the table.
“Are you joking right now? How can you not hear that, it’s like there’s a choir in here or something.” Fenora told him, getting up as well.
Fenora noticed it before, but it had been quiet at first. Now though, it sounded like a dozen someones were chanting right into her ear, over and over. Now that she was trying to find the source of it, she found it grew steadily louder and clearer as she approached the massive black wall in the center of the room.
“Do you hear it now?” she asked as she approached it.
“No… nothing.” Stross said as he followed her up to it.
Fenora looked at the numerous scratches on the wall, and realized that they weren’t damage, they were too uniform for that… too carefully scratched in rows.
“Looks like something’s written here.” Stross said, realizing it too. “Do you know what any of this says.”
“I’ve never seen writing quite like this before. It’s all kind of… kind of-“
Fenora seemed to pass into a trance as she stared at the wall. The scribbles carved into it were entirely foreign to her, and yet it all seemed to make perfect sense. She couldn’t read it, but somehow she knew exactly what was written.
“Here lies the guardian, keeper of dragonstone and a force of unending rage and darkness.” she said in an even monotone, “Force... force” she lingered on the word as the others became shrouded from her view. That one word, ‘force’ seemed to glow now, staying with her… resonating with her. It was only when Stross finally spoke up that she snapped out of her trance.
“Here lies the keeper of the dragonstone? Wait, does that mean what I think it-“
It seemed the universe wanted to confirm the changeling’s suspicions in the most dramatic way it could. Because before he could finish, the solid metal coffin behind them was blown apart from the inside, and from it stepped a heavily armored draugr with a glowing sword.
“Oh shi-“
“Fus Ro Dah!” it shouted, and its voice became a wave of Unrelenting Force that slammed into Stross like a train, blasting him off his feet and into the word wall.
“Stross!” Fenora yelled only to be blindsided by the draugr while she was distracted.
The sword bit into her side, but rather than the warm flow of blood, she felt an icy tingle.
Grabbing the draugr’s sword arm with one hand and its shield arm in the other, Fenora kicked it hard in the stomach. Doing this, she managed to get it away without causing further damage to herself. Still, the freezing wound was already bleeding down her side, and when the draugr recovered, she saw why.
“Enchanted weapons huh? That’s all I need right now.” She muttered and drew her own blade.
“Fus…” the draugr began, and Fenora dived to the side as the last two syllables left its mouth in the same rippling shockwave as before.
Seizing the opportunity, she rushed forward and swung her blade in a full arch that smashed against the draugr’s shield, and another that came down on its helmeted head while it was staggered. Her attacks were strong, but her large blade couldn't get into the weak points of its armor.
When it came time for the undead warrior’s counterattack she brought her sword back and blocked the strike. But still she could feel the chill of the enchanted sword channeling its cold through the metal of her own, and her fingers started to feel numb.
“Bolog Aaz, Mal Lir!” the draugr shouted as it battered against Fenora’s defense, with more and more magic frost cutting through to her with each strike. “Qiilaan Us Dilon!”
Just as she felt she was going to break, a wave of flame swept over the draugr, giving her time to retreat.
“Get away from her you Dawn of the Dead reject!” Stross screamed as he blasted more flames from his hands.
The draugr raised its shield and pushed through the sheet of flame, meeting fire with ice as it swung its enchanted steel and smacked Stross’s hands away, canceling the spell. Raising its sword over its head, it prepared a killing blow.
Fenora wouldn’t give it the chance however, and with a wild swing she slashed the tip of her own sword along its back.
Both heroes retreated a safe distance as the draugr’s dead eyes swapped between the two of them, choosing who to go after first.
“Stross we need to take him together!” Fenora called to her changeling ally, “You distract him, and I’ll finish him off.”
“What? That thing will kill me!” Stross objected, “You tank his hits and I’ll whittle him down with my flames.”
“Tank his- NO! I’ve already gotten hit, it’s your turn!” Fenora argued, pointing to the wound on her side.
“But I’m a delicate flower! And you’re like, um… you’re like a tree… or something.” Stross stuttered. “Be my meat-shield.”
The draugr, who’d had quite enough of their exchange, decided to interject.
“Fus ro DAH!” it roared and set Fenora cartwheeling through the air and into one of the shallow fissures running the perimeter around its tomb.
“AHH! The meat-shield has failed!” Stross screamed and began casting flames at the draugr as it charged at him. “Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO get away from me!”
The draugr was on top of him in less than a second, and raised its sword again with a menacing growl.
“Nope.” Stross cut his flame spell and leapt away, “Nu-hu-hu-hurr! Woop woop woop!” he screamed as he ran in circles with the draugr’s sword slashing at his heels.
“Ow...” Fenora groaned, managing to get up after getting her ass knocked into a ditch. “What’s going-“
“Tag! You’re it!” Stross said as he jumped the gap, letting the draugr fall in with Fenora.
“Geh tiin sih kov diss!” it retched through its rotting teeth while Fenora scrambled away and climbed out of its reach.
This back and forth continued for quite some time; Fen and Stross would hit and run, only to lead the relentless undead warrior into the other. During it all, neither our heroes nor their foe were able to gain the advantage for more than a few short seconds, and thus the chase, hit, and run tactics would begin all over again.
“Okay Fen, I’ve got a plan. But it’s pretty risky.” Stross said as they finally managed to regroup.
“As long as it doesn't involve me making a heroic sacrifice, I’ll take just about anything at this point.” Fenora admitted, huffing for breath.
“Okay, just wait for my mark.” Stross said as the draugr managed to get a foothold and pull itself up over the edge towards them like it had several times before. “Wait for it…” he said as the draugr got out and lifted its weapons, banging them together in a show of challenge. “Wait for iiiiiiiit...” Stross readied a flashbang.
The draugr let out a battlecry and dashed forwards.
“Now!” Stross threw the flashbang at the draugr’s face, and like last time it let out a soft ‘pop’ as the beams of light began melting away its eyes and face like hot wax. “Fen, go for its legs!”
Fenora complied, charging forward and ducking low under the draugr’s blind swings. She swung the weight of her sword at its unarmored thigh and managed to completely sever the limb as she made her pass.
Now blind, hopping around on its remaining leg, and still swinging its shield and sword, the draugr was left wide open to another hit from Fenora. The elf swung her greatsword as hard as she could, causing a massive dent in its armor and the draugr stumbled forwards, pirouetting as it tried to regain its balance.
“Fus...” it began its shout again.
But Fenora was too quick and gave it a swift blow to the face with the pommel of her sword, redirecting its thu’um and sending it to the floor.
By some miracle of luck, its sword arm twisted around during the fall, and the blade ended up cutting through its owner’s neck all the way to the bone. With a final few jerks, the draugr finally died for good.
Fenora stood over her recorpseified enemy and smirked. “I can’t believe that worked. Good plan Stross! Stross?” she looked around for her friend.
“Is it dead?” the changeling in question called from outside the large hole in the ceiling, “Wow! I didn’t think you were actually going to finish it, I thought we were just going to cripple it and run away!” he admitted, “But that’s awesome that you won. You rock!”
Fenora couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at how he’d abandoned her in the middle of the fight, but he did have a point. She did indeed rock. And speaking of rocks…
“We’ve finally got it.” Fenora said with a smile and held the Dragonstone up to the light of the sun as they walked down the side of the mountain back towards Riverwood. It was a lot of trouble, but the good news was that with this in their hands they could finally convince the Jarl that his people were in danger, and having done all they were obligated to do, finally get the heck out of Dodge… er, Skyrim. Dodge-rim.
“And might I add that you, my little changeling, are completely worthless in a fight.” She said to Stross who had been happily skipping alongside her until then. “I mean you tried to use me as a meat-shield for Shor’s sake.”
Stross took a breath and raised a hand to make a snappy comeback, but then he actually thought about it for a second. “I won’t argue that point, nor will I say that I have secret mad fighting skillz.” He said nodding smartly, “But I will say that in Equestria we don’t have to deal with bandits and magic zombies. All I have to do to survive is mingle with the friendly ponies and convince any suspicious guards that I’m just your average, friendly, not-evil good-pony’.”
“And what about the times when they don’t believe you?” Fenora asked, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had to fight your way out of a situation.
“Well… okay. Maybe I haven’t been able to talk my way out of every situation. But a quick flashbang or solid kick to the reproductive organs is usually enough to let me get away, swap disguises, and hide in plain sight until the danger’s passed.”
Fenora winced at the mention of kicks to the genitals, but they kept walking anyway.
Once they found themselves on a familiar trail, Fenora decided to ask, “So how’d you end up here anyway?”
“Teleportation.” Stross answered.
“Oh? That's kinda neat. Any particular reason you decided to come to Skyrim, as opposed to, oh I don’t know… literally anywhere else?” Fenora asked.
“I wasn’t really able to focus at the time.” Stross answered, “Lots of guards…. I'm a big scary changeling... You can guess how that song and dance goes." he said with a sigh. "So what were you doing in Skyrim? Before those Imperials got to us I mean.”
“I was going home after visiting a friend in Elsweyr.” Fenora told him simply.
Stross waited for her to continue, then cocked his head to the side. “That’s it?”
“Does there have to be more?” she said, a bit of irritation creeping in to her voice.
“No but… hrmm.” Stross muttered as he backed off. It seemed so underwhelming. He’d just found out about another changeling’s conspiracy and cracked it wide open, only to be hunted all morning by a town full of guards, teleporting to safety at the last minute.
Fenora… was just walkin’ along minding her own business, and got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time? That isn’t dramatic or exciting. Heroes were supposed to have exciting backstories!
Right?
When they reached the outskirts of Riverwood, Fenora suggested they go to Lucan’s shop first.
“Yeah, he’s going to want this back.” Stross said and waved the golden claw, “And he’ll want to know that his sister’s okay too. It's nice to know you care about these people enough to check on them.”
“Actually I just wanted to sell off some of this junk I collected from those bandits.” She said, lightly jostling her newly reinforced pack.
Stross gave her a small frown.
“But yeah. What you said is good too.”
Making their way to the Riverwood trader, Fenora entered first.
Stross lingered outside for a second however, realizing how quiet it was even for a small town like Riverwood. He felt eyes watching him, and he looked around to see a pair of townspeople staring at him from behind the corner of a house. When they noticed him staring back, they quickly moved out of sight.
From one doorway, one of the village children poked their head out and tried to get a better look, but was hastily taken pulled back inside.
That didn’t sit well with Stross, he knew the looks in their eyes, the sneaky behavior. They were the kind he would receive in Equestria right before all Tartarus broke loose.
Stross was suddenly aware that he no longer had his cape to hide himself with. But it was okay, right? No one in Skyrim no one knew what a changeling was, save for Fenora, and she hadn’t had time to tell anyone.
The door to the inn creaked open. A hand stuck out and beckoned him to come over. "Hey, you. Over here! Quick!" it whispered.
Despite the bad feeling in his gut, Stross felt his curiosity getting the better of him, and he walked to the inn, checking behind and him every other step.
He pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped inside, activating his changeling senses as he did. The only other person in the inn was a large man with a stony expression cleaning mugs behind the counter.
“Hey buddy, did you see anyone come in here?” Stross called over to him.
“Uh-huh.” The man replied in a deep murmur.
“Well do you know where- Grrm! Rur-fu-mrrph!“
Stross wasn’t able to finish before he was wrapped up, hit once over the head, picked up and carried off with a swiftness he would have thought impossible.
“Standin' right behind ya with a bedsheet.” He heard the man behind the counter deadpan.
Inside the Riverwood Trader, Fenora had just finished returning the claw to Lucan.
“Hah, well I’ll be there it is! Strange, heh… it seems smaller for some reason.” Lucan said with several small chuckles as he placed it back on his countertop, overjoyed to have it back.
“That might be because of your eye.” Fenora pointed to the large bruise on Lucan’s left eye, “What happened?”
“Oh you mean this.” Lucan laughed, “It was when Camilla returned with Faendal and Sven. I made the mistake of asking about the claw before I asked if she was alright.”
“And now you won’t forget it!” came Camilla’s voice from upstairs.
“Think she'd be glad just to be rescued.” Lucan grumbled in response. “None the less, I owe you a debt of gratitude. I’ve got some money from the last shipment, and I think you’ve more than earned it.” he said and passed Fenora a bag containing a few hundred septims at least.
“I’ve also got some things I want to sell to you if you’re interested.” Fenora said and unrolled her pack onto the counter.
Lucan looked over the contents with his non-swollen eye; inside were at least twelve draugr swords, twice as many daggers, five bows with a hundred or more matching arrows, six shields, a set of old leather armor, half a pantry’s worth of mildly charred vegetables, twenty rolls of linen strips, and even a couple metal ingots. All in all it must have been at least twice her own weight.
“So how much can you give me for these quality wares?” she asked.
“Well I don’t have too much of a market for weapons, you see.” Lucan answered slowly, his eye wandering over the assortment of junk, “Plus these look pretty used.” He picked up one of the daggers, noticing the nicks in the edge, “And those look like burial weapons to me.”
Fenora raised a scrutinizing brow.
“Let’s say… a hundred and sixty septims.” Lucan offered.
But before Fenora could haggle with him, Camilla shouted down from the stairs, “Lucan Valerius, your sister would be dead right now if weren’t for her! Give her a fair deal!”
“Oh all right. I guess you have done a lot for us too.” Lucan groaned, “I’ll take this stuff off your hands for three hundred gold, but I really can’t offer any more. Most of these swords will probably be melted down by Alvor to make new sawblades for the mill anyway.”
“Good enough.” Fenora said and made the trade, “By the way, do you have any healing potions? This is starting to get sore.” She said and pulled open her shirt to reveal the bloody linen wrap around her waist.
Lucan rubbed his neck and let out an awkward chuckle, “Heh, about that… the thing is, we had a few in stock, but once Camilla came back with Faendal and Sven and we saw the condition they were in, we kind of…”
Fenora sighed. “No, it’s alright, I can deal with this. I’ll just keep a couple of these linen wraps until I can get fixed for real.” Then she thought of something. “Do you have any tundra cotton?”
“Actually, I do.” Lucan said and pulled several handfuls of the fluffy white flowers from the shelf, “It’s left over from a shipment of fabrics I got a while back. It’s yours for five septims if you really want it.”
Fenora took a few pieces in her fingers. She’d read in a book once that tundra cotton, a hardy and stubborn growing plant found only in frigid climates, was often spun into thread to make clothes. It was also great at absorbing liquids, and might make her improvised bandages a little more substantial.
“Perfect. And there’s one other thing I’d like to buy…”
Fenora walked out of the Riverwood trader, happy that her pack was significantly lighter, and her purse fuller than when she entered. With well over five hundred septims, she was confident she had enough to make the trip out of Skyrim once they gave Farengar his slab of rock. She even had enough left over to buy a little something special.
She held the cloak and robe she’d bought for Stross out in front of her, examining it before folding it up and hiding it in her pack for a surprise. It was grey like the one he’d found in the wagon, only a much lighter hue, and she hoped he’d like it.
Fenora didn’t really know what to make of Stross, but she guessed he was alright. The fact that he lost his mind and tried to kill her was kind of a turn off, and she’d have to find out more about it later, but otherwise he seemed helpful... nice. He might have forced her through more than she wanted, but he had stuck with her through it. Maybe if she offered, he’d come along with her to High Rock. It’d be nice to have some company in considering… No. No she didn’t want to think about it.
She was about to wonder where the changeling had gotten to, when she saw the townspeople milling around outside the inn, talking in hushed whispers to themselves.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” she asked, poking one man in the shoulder.
“Shh!” he quickly hushed her and turned his fearful eyes back to the inn door. “There’s a monster in th’ inn. We saw it come into town right behind you, and we hid. The next thing we know it wanders in there, and then… nothing! We’re all too scared to go in there. But we’ve got to do something! Who knows what it’s going to do to us once it- Hey! Where are you going!? Are you crazy?!”
“Calm down, all of you. I’ll take care of this.” Fenora told the crowd sternly as she kicked the door open, walked in and slammed it in the stunned villagers’ faces. “Honestly.” She scoffed.
Fenora looked around at the inside of the inn, searching for Stross, but she didn’t see him at any of the tables.
She walked up to the man behind the counter as he idly flipped through the pages of his book. “Hey, have you seen anyone come in here lately? Black scales, big blue eyes?”
“Mh-hrmm.” The man grunted in reply.
Just then a series of knocks came from the door to her right.
The man slowly looked up from his book and at the door, then to Fenora. “He’s in there.” he said and returned to reading.
Fenora was skeptical, but walked over to the door and found it unlocked.
Orgnar sighed at the things he had to put up with from time to time. He’d told everyone that he was just the cook. But it never seemed to matter.
To say that Stross was terrified would be a bit of an understatement. He was tied to a chair, still wrapped in the bedsheet used by whoever absconded with him, and it acted as a decent blindfold. He couldn’t see a thing, and each time he tried to use his magic to escape he was smacked with what he guessed was a frying pan.
For the past few minutes a deep reverberating voice had asked him questions hard and fast, and they were so vague as to what they wanted to know that he didn’t even know how to truthfully answer.
“Were you in Helgen when it burned down?”
Yes.
“Was it a dragon that destroyed the town?”
Yes, a big black one that made it rain fire.
“And you were in Bleak falls?”
Yes.
“What were you there for?”
We went up there to save Camilla from a group of bandits.
“AND???”
And to find a dragonstone for Farengar. We need it so he can prove-
“I don’t care. Where is it now?”
Why do you want it?
*Clang* “I ask the questions. Where?”
“I don’t have it!”
*Spang* “I know you don’t have it. Where!?”
What are you going to do with-
*Clang**Clang**Clong* “Tell! Me! Where!?”
Fenora has it! She held onto it since we got it! Please stop!
To his relief, whoever was doing the interrogation had stopped hitting him, and simply pulled a piece of cloth tightly around his mouth, gagging him. But now he was worried about what would happen to Fenora. He wished he hadn’t caved and given her up so quickly, and shuddered at the thought of her getting beaten right next to him.
He can’t believe he missed Equestria’s prisons. By comparison, their interrogations felt like a soothing massage while the guards fed him chocolate.
Past the thundering of ichor rushing through his head, he could hear sounds in the distance, but couldn’t make them out. It sounded like people talking, but he couldn’t hear what was said.
But someone in the room with him could, and knocked a few times on the wall, letting the wooden sound ring out between each knock.
The sound of a door getting kicked open reached his ears, followed by a familiar voice he was overjoyed to hear.
“Stross! Gods, what happened?! I left for five minutes!” Fenora gasped as she rushed over to the small figure bundled in a sheet made filthy with wet black stains. She tore open the cloth where his horn had punched a little hole through and looked into his tear-filled blue eyes. “Stross…”
Stross’s eyes darted off over her shoulder though, and she whipped around to see a man in all-enclosing black platemail. He slammed the door shut behind her and blocked the way with his hulking armored form.
“You! Why did you do this?” Fenora demanded as she drew the draugr frost sword.
“Don’t even think about it.” the tinny voice of the warrior came from inside his helmet as he drew his mace and patted it against his free hand. “The dragonstone… give it to me.”
“Drrn drr rrt!” Stross loudly mumbled around his gag.
“And why should I give you it?” Fenora challenged, “I’ll have you know I went through a lot of shit to get that rock.”
“And it shows.” The man answered slowly. “That doesn’t look too healthy. A cut like that must hurt when you move.” He said pointed to the bandage on her side, making his implication clear. In the small space the room provided, she’d be at a disadvantage due to her sword’s length. Couple that with her injury impeding her movements and the fact that her opponent was wearing a full suit of armor…
Still, Fenora didn’t back down, holding her sword in front of her defensively as she stood in front of Stross.
“You were in Helgen.” The man stated in his deep droning voice, taking Fenora slightly aback. “You saw what that monster did. Do you think you could stop it if it happened again?”
“What are you on about?” Fenora asked, losing her patience.
“What I’m ‘on about’… is that you’re an outsider who’s in over her head.” The metal-clad man told her, “The dragons are coming... returning to Skyrim, and I intend to find out why. For that, I need the dragonstone. You have it. Turn it over. See the inscription?”
Fenora let her pack strap slide off her shoulder, her eyes not leaving the armored man, and she rummaged through the remaining contents until she found the dragonstone. Turning it over, she indeed found a short passage scratched into it in the same kind of lettering as the chanting wall.
“Here lie our fallen lords until-“ Fenora read the words without actually ‘reading’ the words.
“Until the power of Alduin revives.” The man finished, “Alduin. The world eater. Prophesized to bring about the end of men and mer alike. Hundreds of years ago an ancient order of dragon slayers killed off the last of his kind. The dragons aren’t just coming back,” the man said in an even grimmer tone, “they’re coming back… to life. That dragonstone is supposed to have every ancient dragon burial site marked on it, a source more reliable than any other that exists. I need that map.”
“And I need to bring it to Farengar so he can prove to Whiterun that even half of what you just said is true.” Fenora shot back.
“Farengar is an associate of mine, we seem to share a common interest. I’ll pass the news on to him once I’ve done my job.”
“And why should I trust you after what you did to my friend?” Fenora said and gestured to Stross, still covered in splatters of his own blood.
“You mean your dremora servant?” the man asked.
“No…” Fenora grit her teeth, “I mean my friend. My not evil, nice person, non-monster friend.”
The man shifted in his armor to look at Stross, then at Fenora, then back at Stross.
“Oh…” he muttered “Sorry. I thought he was some creature from the planes of Oblivion, conjured or bound to you.” he shifted awkwardly. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen it.”
Fenora frowned harder at him.
“Wait here.” he said and left the room.
While he was gone, Fenora got to work untying Stross the rest of the way, and he practically glommed onto her the second he was free.
“I’m sorry.” The changeling cried into her shoulder, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Shh, it’s alright Vennik, it’s alright.” Fenora hushed him.
“Vennik?” Stross asked, and felt Fenora’s breath hitch.
Before either could say anything else though, the armored man came back in with a pair of large red bottles hanging from a string in his fist. “Here,” he said and held them out, “this should help the two of you.”
Fenora took one and uncorked it, giving the content’s a sniff. It smelled correct for a health potion, or at least, she knew it wasn’t anything poisonous.
“I still want the dragonstone.” The armored man reminded her.
“Wait.” Stross interrupted them, “You just need the dragonstone for the map on the front right?” he asked, and the armored man nodded. “I think I’ve got a solution.”
Fenora and Stross made their way out of Riverwood as quickly as they could. Stross could still feel eyes on his back as Fenora helped him to not fall on his face. They stopped at the banks of the river, just a little ways from the bridge overlooking the Whiterun planes. It was here that Fenora decided it safe to apply the potions they’d received from the mysterious armored thug.
“That was some quick thinking back there Stross. Pretty impressive drawing skills too.” Fenora complimented as she shifted the dragonstone in her pack aside to get at the glass bottles.
“Really? I mean, I do it a little now and then, but it’s nothing too special.” Stross said sheepishly.
“Stross, you drew it using your mouth. That’s pretty impressive.” Fenora told him, “Are you… talented in doing anything else with your mouth?” she asked, averting her eyes slightly.
Stross stared at her for a moment. “What?” he quacked.
“Nothing!” Fenora said hastily, “Just come here and kneel down for a second.”
“What!?” Stross yelled louder and scampered backwards.
Fenora rolled her eyes. “So I can heal you?”
“Oh…” Stross said and did as she told him.
Fenora had two pieces of linen wrap ready, one to clean off the blood and another to apply the potion. She’d already soaked a small area of the stiff fabric with the red-tinted fluid, and used the river water to wet the other. But when she used the wet one to clean off his shell she found that the gashes were already closed, and the bruises and cracks that had formed on his shell were gone.
“How the…? Stross, you’re already healed again.” She whispered.
This seemed to scare Stross even more though.
“What?” Fenora asked, “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Of course not! Changeling bodies heal by using the soul energy they’ve stored to repair themselves. You see this?!” Stross shoved his hand into her face so she could see the teeny-tiny holes appearing on his shell’s outer layer. “This is what happens to us when we run out! Our bodies start cannibalizing themselves to repair essential organs using nonessential parts like our hooves- er… hands now.”
Then Stross remembered the sword Fenora had pulled out of him.
“Oh by the Fallen! That hole in my chest must have taken days worth of energy out of me!” he said and grasped his head as he panicked. He then turned to Fenora with a hungry glint in his eyes, and she backed up slightly.
Despite how she put her arms up to shield herself, Stross lunged for her...
...and pulled her into a crushingly snuggly hug. “Fenora, can I feed of you so I don’t die?” he asked sweetly and rubbed his cheek against hers.
“NO!” Fenora yelled and kicked him off. She remembered exactly why she’d had to impale him in the first place. That feeling like she was being sucked into a frozen abyss, the feeling of despair, and the fear etched onto the faces of the bandits he’d eaten. She was NOT going to end up like that! Even for… for…
Ah mammoth crap.
“B-but. Fen…” Stross said, lying where he’d landed from her kick. His lip quivered and tears started welling up in his big blue eyes. “I… I’ll starve to death. Don’t you like me? I thought we were friends.” He said and the tears started spilling down his cheeks. “I don’t want to wither away!”
Fenora knelt down by him and helped him to stand. “Stross. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she began, but didn’t know what else to say.
She let out a long sigh, knowing that if her changeling was sad, she might as well get it all out of the way at once.
“Stross, you’re going to be just fine.” she said, and stopped him from interrupting until she finished. “How much do you need to feed on someone to stay healthy for… let’s say one day?”
Stross thought about it. Feeding wasn’t exactly a science, and was hardly consistent. But if he had to take an educated guess, “About enough to make whoever I feed off of really tired for twice that long. Or…” he added slowly, “enough to make them get tired a tiny bit faster… for the rest of their lives. Souls give off a lot of energy, but they take a really…. really long to recover when damaged.”
Fenora nodded. “And what about souls themselves? What if you just, I dunno… swallowed the whole thing?” she asked, hoping to build up to revealing the truth about the bandits at Bleak Falls.
Stross gave her a terrified look, like she’d just suggested mass slaughter, or baby-eating… or mass slaughter followed by baby-eating.
“F-Fallen… by the Fallen, I’d never do something so horrible! To anypony! No matter how close I was to withering. What kind of changeling do you think I am?!” he shouted.
Fenora really didn’t know. She’d only ever met one after all.
“So it’s pretty bad then. But… how much would you get, just hypothetically speaking?”
Stross forced himself to calm down before answering. “I wouldn’t know for sure. I’ve never done it. But the soul is what produces the energy we changelings feed off of, so in theory if we… ate it… we’d get everything it could produce. All of it at once.”
“And I’m guessing that’s a lot.”
“More than a lot.” Stross said grimly, “There’s a reason why the Grim Reaver hive was so powerful before they were destroyed. Most changelings will try to leave their victims alive after they’re done sucking them dry, it only makes sense; dead ponies don’t have anything left to leech. But the Grim Reavers would take their victim’s souls, and their influence reached further and further as they grew stronger and stronger, scouring Equestria for more souls to eat until they weren’t even changelings anymore. They were like demons.”
“You said 'was'. Something took them all out?” Fenora asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know exactly what.” Stross admitted. “Some stories say that Princess Celestia descended on them like a righteous pillar of light, and cleansed the world of their presence with her sun fire in a single afternoon. Others say that it was a long and bloody war where Unicorn archmages and Earth-pony alchemists made a poison to wipe them out, and the Pegasi made it rain acid or something. Either way I’m glad they’re long gone.”
“So what hive were you from?” Fenora asked, and at the quizzical look he gave in return she clarified, “You said it like this Grim Reaver hive was just one, so are there others?”
“Well yeah! And we’re normally called factions now; modern term.” Stross said, “I was actually a part of Queen Heartsong’s faction. She was wonderful. She wanted her changelings to be more like ponies, to care about them as much as we tricked them into caring about us. It was her that taught me how to make my own disguises instead of taking the form of somepony else.”
Then Stross’s smile faded. “And then she left us. We were a small faction, most of us split off from another hive. It made her sad that so many of us shunned her teachings, and so she just vanished one day. The rest of us split up after that. I never saw any of them again.”
Fenora pulled him into a careful hug. “So she led a faction of good tricky-evil-changelings.” She said with a small chuckle, and Stross smiled along with her. “And you’d never do that soul-eating thing on me, would you?”
Stross shook his head. “Never.”
“Let me know whenever you get hungry. I’ll see what I can do for you.” Fenora told him and kiss his forehead. She was such a softie. And it was going to be a crapstorm when she actually managed to tell him what happened in the barrow. But for now Stross closed his eyes and hugged her back.
He pressed his cheek against her shoulder, skimming a little of her soul-juice while it was available.
“Ow!” he heard her cry out, and his eyes shot open. But he was surprised when he saw her cringing and clutching her side.
“Don’t… hug there ‘till I get this fixed. Kay?” she said as she began pulling off the old bandages.
“Oh, right.” he chuckled, relieved that everything was alright.
Everything was going to be just fine.
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How long would a changeling like stress live for if they went to the Soul Cairn?
6636555 For fucking ever, with all those damnable Soul Gems.
Poor Stross, he's gonna have a serious choc when he will learn that he did eat easily more than a half-dozen of souls, and had almost eaten fenora's soul...
And you know what ? I feel, with the more serious tone this rewrite has (the humor's still there, yeah, but the general tone is more serious than "A Changeling Visit to Skyrim"), there's will be a moment, where he will be forced to use consciously his Soul Eater, probably more to save Fenora than himself, and he will feel like a monster, like what equestria depict his kind.
And there's will be the usage of Soul Gems, and the moral quandary they will create. Because hey, there's gems who do exactly what Stross DON'T want to do, and they are used for a rather common use : Enchantments ! You want make a flaming sword ? Let's use he Soul of the bandit who attaqued you last week ! Oh, the enchantment is out of energy, let's use af few souls to rekindle it's fire !
I'm gonna say it now, Stross is not gonna like this side of Nirn, nooooooooot at all.
6636662 probably. But think of his magic too. He'll have more than Celestia and Luna combined when in the Soul Cairn. Them Halloween gonna be fu<ked up. Badly too.
So he has how many souls inside of him right now?
With the rewrite, will Stross get Fenoras love again, or be cursed forever to have to soul drain combat fodder? Could he gain anything from any life light, even that of the Drauger? which means he would be totally OP as the more was thrown against him, the more he could absorb and power up?
Pity, all those lovely sweet juicy Dragon Souls he cant just suck out and drool over.
6636732 Boys and girls of every age, wouldn't you like to see something strange?
6636852 hey! That rhymes! And yes I would.
I wonder if he can give up the souls at an enchanting thingy.
Who needs Azura's Star when you have Stross?
6636859 ...Are you fucking with me, or do you really not know what that's from?
6636863 the second option. Don't know where it's from. I'm kinda slow.
6636867 ...Holy shit, you aren't fucking with me.
Holy shit.
Just...
I can't say it enough.
Holy shit.
*ahem*
HOW HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS?! TIM BURTON'S CROWNING ACHIEVEMENT, AND ONE OF THE GREAT CLAYMATION CLASSICS?!?!?!?!?!?!
I have a question. Is Luna still gonna be in this story? Cause I'm pretty sure Fenora would be happy to have someone else doing the side quests.
6636880 I like wolves. Not creepy skeleton dudes. There just fucking messed up. Why anyone would watch it is beyond me. And I don't really watch lots of movies. Just reading and violent video games.
6636893 BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! Oh, my God. Just give it a chance!
Thanks for turning me into a chuckle fuck, lol.
You should probably put translations for any Dovahzul lines (other than shouts) down in the author's notes in the chapters that have them so people don't have to go look them up.
Aav Dilon. - Join the dead.
Bolog Aaz, Mal Lir! - Beg for mercy, little worm!
Qiilaan Us Dilon! - Bow before the dead!
Geh tiin sih kov diss! - I honestly have no idea what this is. I've checked thuum.org, as well as both the 3rd and 4th editions of the Dovahzul dictionary, and I can only find translations for "geh" (yes) and "tiin" (weary)
now that i think about it, Stross/changelings would have a great time in Lordran/Drangleic
6636776 He devoured a total of ten human souls from the bandits, but a bit of time has passed, he's been casting spells, and taken damage since then. So I'd guesstimate for story purposes that he's got about nine souls of energy left, or (9x) 2000 magika.
6636840 He can drain life from animals and undead, but undead taste very bad taste to him.
6636887 I do plan for Luna to make an appearance a little later. But I'm going to do it right this time around.
6636921 You're welcome.
6637040 I'll put in the translations for Dovahzul lines that are actually relevant to the plot, like Alduin's or Paarthunax's dialogue. The ones here I consider standard battlecries, and not too important to translate.
As for "Geh tiin sih kov diss" It's not actually Dovah. It's a joke; if you say it out loud, it might sound something like "Getting sick of this."
... And if you think that's bad, you should have read the first story's dialogue for Paarthunax. I went seriously overboard with it.
=====
Thank you for your questions and comments, and as always, thanks for reading!
6638067 phew. That was one of my favorite things about the old one. Luna was hilarious. Now I wait for another great chapter.
Wait wait wait, does this mean that Fenora's parents had sex with her mom being blind and her dad having only ONE ARM!?!?
6638067 Still a lot.
6638607 Isn't nature so fascinating ?
6638067
images1.tickld.com/live/1091021.jpg
Don't mind me, I'm just gonna go sit in the dumb people corner...
6638607 who says it was one arm could be a leg too but yes yes they somehow managed to do it
6639307
That just makes it even more impressive! 
Oh jeez, I didn't even consider it might have been his leg.
If Stross winds up in Cyradill, he will become a master treasure hunter and ruin explorer. Because the magic lights that fill up the normal peoples of Nirn's mana pools completely even if they are made half from mana practically.
6639384 #chucknorris
6639565
More like #fyayknorris in this case, amiright?
6639705 no
6639766
derpicdn.net/img/view/2013/2/26/255571__safe_fluttershy_image+macro_scrunchy+face_okay.jpg
6641377 wp.patheos.com.s3.amazonaws.com/blogs/exploringourmatrix/files/2012/04/Chewbacca-quote.jpg
Hey, i just tough, Stross Berzerk mode last chapter, tha fact that the Grim Reavers were considered demons, that this faction has been destroyed, and that Heartsong's faction is a patchwork of lings comming from multiple other factions...
Stross is a descendent of a Grim Reaver, and he don't know it, huh ?
Skyrim is promising sooooooo many good news for him... [/sarcasm]
6650929 *Gasp!* My spellchecker is with me for the re-write! YAY!
vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/adventuretimewithfinnandjake/images/b/b9/Cute-smiley-facebook.png/revision/latest?cb=20140227012600
*Sigh* Just like the good ol' days.
6651145 Oh don't worry, I'm still here just abit more preoccupied with being employed nowadays.
Fuck yeah this story is great
“they’re coming back… to life.
“Stross. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”she began
dead ponies don’t have anything life to leech
and they influence reached further and further
1. Forgot your closing quotation mark.
2. Forgot your spacing.
3. Left.
4. Their.
Funny... The keeper wasn't as hard as the spider fight for me. I kept dying at the spider an uncountable amount of times back then though.
Lol Stross is Zoiberg confirmed.
I find amazing how much more EPIC skyrim has become through this story. The first dungeon of the game is, to me, almost like a chore now. But in reading the story it bacame so much awesome it is giving me the itch to go play again! (then I remember the tons of mods I still need to align and I give up c':)
6638607
kinky
Another well done chapter, nice job, nice job, hehehe eue
images.wikia.com/mlp/images/e/e1/FANMADE_Luna_I_see_what_you_did_there.jpg
Eh, too bad Stross is a softie, Mehrune's Razor would be perfect for him. Oh well.
Wabbajack then. He can try it out on a bunny randomly hopping around. Which would obviously change into some epic dremora. And continue hopping around, since it has the brain of a rabbit.
I can definitely understand why a giant bug would be concerned about a giant spider.
I have a Bosmer female character I made and named E'lara as a reference to Hunted: The Demon's Forge. E'lara, Elaura, same thing, right?
proceeds to put all food items into a chest "there"
That moment when you realise you were grave robing. .....
Well s%=^