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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Aerion didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. To possess the ability to literally slow the flow of time around him was the ultimate combat multiplier. It was the power of a god. He mentally smashed the YES button. The chanting abruptly stopped. The blue light faded from the wall, leaving it dark and silent once more. Aerion slowly lowered his hand, his golden eyes glowing with a terrifying, absolute confidence.
Aerion stood perfectly still for a moment, letting his golden eyes adjust to the dim light of the crypt. He could feel the new, terrifying power resting at the very core of his being. The concept of Tiid, Time itself, was now fundamentally woven into his soul, ready to be unleashed with a single breath.
Behind him, Jenassa finally lowered her Dwarven bow, her crimson eyes tracking the lingering tendrils of ambient magic dissipating into the freezing air.
"Patron," Jenassa spoke, her gravelly voice breaking the heavy silence. She stepped closer, eyeing the massive, curved stone wall with a mixture of deep caution and intense curiosity. "May I ask why you do that?"
Aerion turned around smoothly, his dark robes swishing against the ancient dust. "Do what, Jenassa?"
"You touched the stone wall," she clarified, gesturing toward the draconic script. "You did the exact same thing days ago in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow. You placed your bare hand against the carvings, and just stood there with your eyes closed. What exactly is it that you are doing?"
Aerion offered a soft, highly practiced sigh, shaking his head gently as if dismissing a matter of trivial importance.
"It is nothing to be alarmed about, Jenassa," Aerion replied, his melodic voice taking on the patient, educational tone of an eccentric scholar. "I am merely feeling the residuals. The lingering echoes of ancient magic that were left behind in these specific, highly enchanted word walls."
He gestured gracefully toward the sweeping, claw-like carvings. "You are a woman of the world. You must, of course, have heard the ancient Nordic legends of the Dragonborn."
Jenassa nodded her head, her expression turning serious. "Of course I have heard the legends. Everyone in Tamriel has heard them at least once. The mortal heroes with the blood and soul of a dragon, who possessed the power to wield the Thu'um, the Shout, to fight against Alduin the World-Eater and the dragon cults thousands of years ago. And, naturally, the legend of Tiber Septim, the founder of the Third Empire, who was said to be a Dragonborn himself."
"Exactly," Aerion smiled, stepping away from the wall. "These monuments were constructed by the ancient dragon cults or the ancient Thu'um users. The magic they poured into the stone to carve these specific words of power is incredibly dense. It has survived for millennia. I am not a Dragonborn, of course, but the magic here is so concentrated that I can actually feel its vibration."
He paused, letting a touch of aristocratic pride bleed into his tone. "I suppose it is simply a byproduct of my heritage. I was born with an innate, hyper refined sensitivity to the arcane currents of the world. A sensitivity that is vastly more acute than even that of a standard High Elf. It allows me to interface with ancient matrices simply by touch."
It was an absolute, complete fabrication made up entirely on the spot. But it was a brilliant lie, perfectly blending established historical lore with a believable, racially appropriate excuse regarding Altmer magical superiority.
Jenassa, who had just spent the last hour watching him command elements, summon Daedric armies, and pacify prehistoric beasts, didn't doubt his explanation for a single fraction of a second. The absolute, reality bending weight of his maximized Persuasion skill cemented the lie as an undeniable fact in her mind.
"I see," Jenassa nodded, looking at him with renewed, profound respect. "I did not expect that even a High Elf would be so sensitive that he could physically feel the residual breath of a dragon. Your connection to the arcane is truly terrifying, Patron."
"It has its uses," Aerion chuckled softly.
With the ancient mystery "explained," Aerion turned his attention away from the wall and focused on the raised platform directly behind the massive stone throne where the Deathlord had been seated.
Resting in the shadows, half-obscured by a decaying, moth eaten tapestry, was a massive, heavy steel chest. It was significantly larger and vastly more ornate than any of the other containers they had found in the crypt.
"The king's personal treasury," Aerion noted, stepping up to the heavy lid.
The chest was unlocked. Aerion hauled the heavy steel lid back, the ancient hinges screaming in protest. A warm, ambient glow emanated from the interior, revealing a hoard of incredibly high quality level loot.
Aerion's system assisted vision immediately categorized the massive wealth resting within.
Resting near the top of the pile were three large, jagged, unnervingly beautiful crystals. They were Black Soul Gems. Unlike standard soul gems that held the white souls of animals and beasts, these dark crystals were designed to hold the black souls of sentient mortal beings. Furthermore, peering into the dark, swirling depths of the gems, Aerion could see the faint, agonizing glow of trapped essence.
They were fully filled.
"Dark magic," Jenassa murmured, taking a half step back as she felt the ominous, necrotic energy radiating from the stones.
"Highly valuable dark magic," Aerion corrected practically. He reached in and collected all three, instantly shunting the sinister artifacts into his dimensional void to shield them from the physical world.
Next, his eyes fell upon a beautifully crafted shield. It was an Elven Shield, forged from refined Moonstone and gilded with quicksilver.
Aerion lifted it experimentally. It was astonishingly light, weighing a fraction of the heavy steel shield he currently kept in his inventory, yet the material composition made it vastly more durable and capable of deflecting significantly heavier kinetic impacts.
He stored it instantly, turning his attention to the weapon resting beneath it.
It was an Elven Sword. The sleek, curved, golden blade was a masterpiece of Aldmeri craftsmanship. But what made it truly exceptional were the violent, crackling purple streaks of pure electricity actively arcing across the razor-sharp edge. It was heavily enchanted with potent lightning magic, making it a lethal, highly valuable secondary weapon.
"A beautiful blade," Aerion praised, adding the glowing weapon to his void.
He then reached deeper into the chest, his fingers closing around the thick glass of two very large, heavy alchemical bottles. The liquid inside glowed with a brilliant, swirling, highly concentrated azure light.
Aerion pulled them out, examining the glowing fluid. Given the high level nature of the boss chest, he expected them to be Potions of Extreme Magicka, rare elixirs that could instantly restore 150 points of arcane energy in the heat of battle.
However, as the system scanned the items to log them into his inventory, the prompt surprised him completely.
[Item Acquired: 2x Potion of Ultimate Magicka]
Aerion's golden eyes widened significantly. Ultimate Magicka. It didn't just restore a flat numeric value, it restored percentages. For a mage like him, with a massive, 500 point Magicka pool, these two bottles were worth their weight in solid diamonds.
In a desperate, protracted battle against a dragon or a Thalmor hit squad, these potions essentially gave him two free, instantaneous refills of his entire elemental arsenal.
But as Aerion stared at the swirling blue liquid, his mind, forever turning toward ambitious, highly unorthodox research, struck upon a wildly different, slightly mad scientist idea.
He looked down at Lupin. The tiny cinnamon fox was currently sniffing the base of the stone throne, his ears twitching.
Lupin was not a normal animal. The fox possessed a bizarre, highly unnatural sensitivity to magical residues, he had flawlessly tracked the dark magic of the Ebony Claw through the massive, scentless crypt.
'What if...' Aerion theorized, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face. 'What if I didn't drink this? What if I administered a dose of absolute, ultimate, pure magical essence to a creature that already possesses a mutated arcane sensitivity?'
Could he force an evolution? Could he permanently bolster the fox's physiology, expanding its natural lifespan and granting it enhanced, supernatural abilities? A magically mutated, highly intelligent familiar would be the absolute perfect alpha to lead his impending army of domesticated mammoths and war beasts.
It was a highly risky, unprecedented experiment. But Aerion had the wealth and the resources to take risks. He safely stored the two ultimate potions in his inventory, making a firm mental note to construct a controlled alchemical environment to test his theory on Lupin in the near future.
Turning back to the chest, Aerion found the raw currency. Scattered across the bottom of the iron container was a massive, sprawling pile of heavy, ancient gold septims. He ran his hand over the coins, the system vacuuming them up in a rapid, highly satisfying sequence of digital clicks.
[Gold Acquired: 1,000 Septims]
Finally, resting in the very corner of the chest, half buried under a piece of rotten linen, was a piece of jewelry that radiated a profound, verdant magical aura.
It was a Gold Emerald Circlet, but the heavy green streaks of magical energy constantly shifting across the polished gold indicated a massive, top tier enchantment.
Aerion picked it up, letting the system identify it.
[Item Acquired: Circlet of Peerless Alchemy]
Aerion let out a low whistle of genuine appreciation. The word "Peerless" denoted the absolute highest tier of enchantment possible in the world.
Wearing this circlet would exponentially increase the potency, value, and duration of any potion or poison he crafted at an alchemy lab. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry, it was an economic multiplier that could generate infinite wealth.
He carefully deposited the priceless artifact into his digital void.
[Inventory Weight Increased by 7.85 KG]
"The treasury is empty," Aerion announced, closing the heavy steel lid of the chest. "Our business in Korvanjund is entirely concluded. Let us leave this place."
Instead of turning around and facing the long, tedious, and rubble filled trek back through the massive crypts they had just fought through, Aerion moved toward the back of the chamber.
To the right of the Word Wall, a narrow set of wooden stairs had been constructed against the stone, leading up to a small, elevated balcony.
"This way," Aerion directed.
They climbed the stairs and walked down a short, dark stone hallway until they reached a heavy steel door. Pushing through it, they found themselves in a narrow, rough hewn tunnel that felt distinct from the grand architecture of the temple.
The tunnel ended abruptly at what appeared to be a solid wall of stone. However, resting to the right of the barrier was a heavy iron lever.
Aerion reached out and pulled the lever downward.
With a loud, grinding screech, the solid stone wall actually folded inward, operating on a massive, hidden counterweight system. The secret door swung open, revealing the very first room of the crypt, the antechamber located just inside the main entrance doors.
They stepped through the secret passage, bypassing the entirety of the ruin's interior layout in a matter of seconds.
The antechamber still smelled heavily of burnt flesh, ozone, and charred linen. The bodies of the bandits they had slaughtered upon entry were still scattered across the stone steps, frozen into gruesome, blackened statues.
Jenassa stepped carefully over the charred remains of the Orc she had fought, her face a mask of professional indifference. Aerion didn't even look at the corpses, pushing the massive, heavy main doors of the temple open and stepping back out into the world.
The biting, howling wind of the Pale instantly assaulted them, a stark contrast to the stagnant, damp air of the crypt. The sun was beginning its slow descent behind the jagged mountain peaks, casting long, dark purple shadows across the snow.
"It is freezing," Jenassa noted, her breath pluming in thick white clouds as she pulled her fur cloak tighter around her leather armor.
Aerion smiled. He raised both of his hands, his palms facing upward. He channeled a continuous, highly controlled stream of Flames magic into the air, creating two localized, floating orbs of intense heat directly above their heads.
The ambient temperature immediately spiked, creating a comfortable, warm bubble around them that pushed the biting blizzard back.
"Better?" Aerion asked smoothly.
"Vastly," Jenassa admitted, moving closer to the source of the heat.
With the magical heater warding off the frostbite, they walked back across the snowy excavation site. They climbed the wide, treacherous stone stairs, leaving the sunken pit of Korvanjund behind, and reached the upper ridge where they had initiated their first lethal strike.
Standing near the treeline, Aerion placed two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp, piercing, incredibly loud whistle that cut cleanly through the howling wind.
Less than a minute later, the heavy thud of hooves on packed snow echoed from the forest. Revan emerged from the thick pine trees, shaking a layer of fresh snow from his black mane, followed closely by Jenassa's sturdy bay horse. Both animals looked perfectly rested and entirely unbothered by the freezing climate.
"Good boy," Aerion praised, giving Revan a heavy pat on the neck.
He leaned down, scooping Lupin out of the snowdrifts, and carefully deposited the shivering fox into the deep, fur-lined leather saddlebag, ensuring he was protected from the wind.
Aerion swung up into his saddle, dismissing the hovering fire orbs now that they were mounted. Jenassa quickly mounted her own horse.
"Where to now, Patron?" Jenassa asked, securing her new Dwarven bow to her saddle. "Back to the warmth of Whiterun to deliver the gold?"
Aerion shook his head, looking out across the snowy peaks. "Not yet. If we return immediately, the Jarl will assume we had the gold stashed nearby. We need to maintain the illusion of a grueling, time consuming expedition. We ride north. There are several other untouched ruins and bandit encampments in this region that require clearing. We will spend the night at the Nightgate Inn, and continue our 'fundraising' tomorrow."
With a sharp click of his tongue, Aerion spurred Revan forward.
They rode out of the hidden valley, leaving the massive, silent ruins of Korvanjund behind them. They navigated back down the treacherous, snowy mountain pass, finally reconnecting with the main, paved trade road of the Pale.
They turned north, putting the wind at their backs. The ride was quiet and steady. The fading sunlight painted the harsh, frozen landscape in breathtaking shades of gold and deep violet.
After an hour of hard riding, the welcome, warm orange glow of a chimney fire appeared on the horizon. The Nightgate Inn sat like a solitary, sturdy wooden fortress against the elements, completely isolated on the edge of a frozen lake.
Aerion and Jenassa rode into the small stable yard, securing their horses and throwing heavy woolen blankets over their flanks to protect them from the night chill.
Aerion pulled Lupin from the saddlebag, tucking the fox securely under his arm, and pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the tavern.
The blast of roaring heat, the smell of roasting meat, and the heavy aroma of spilled ale washed over them. The inn was mostly empty, occupied only by a couple of sullen miners drinking in the corner and the familiar, scarred face of Hadring the innkeeper standing behind the main bar.
Hadring looked up as the heavy doors closed. His eyes immediately widened as he recognized the towering High Elf in the immaculate dark robes and the terrifying Dark Elf assassin trailing behind him.
He vividly remembered the last time this specific duo had stopped by, almost causing a big fight due to couple of drunk adventurers that rae stupid enough to goad the both of them.
Aerion walked confidently up to the polished wooden counter. He reached into his satchel, withdrawing two heavy gold coins, and placed them down on the wood with a sharp clink.
"Good evening, Hadring," Aerion greeted smoothly, offering a polite, aristocratic smile. "The cold of the Pale is unrelenting. I require two of your finest private rooms for the night."
Hadring stared at the twenty septims, then slowly reached out and swept them off the counter.
"Rooms are yours," Hadring grunted, reaching beneath the counter to retrieve two heavy iron keys. He slid them across the wood, his scarred face tight with nervous apprehension. "Enjoy your stay. But... please, Elf. No massive commotions like last time. I don't want to have my inn be burned down to the ground."
Aerion's smile didn't waver, but his golden eyes hardened with absolute, uncompromising authority.
"I assure you, Hadring, I am a scholar. I have absolutely no desire to initiate any form of commotion," Aerion replied, his voice a smooth, melodic purr that carried a terrifying edge. "However, if individuals choose to come into this establishment and disturb my rest, or threaten my companions, like the last time... I will hold myself back to the best of my ability. But you must understand, my patience for incompetence is not infinite."
It was a perfectly polite, highly diplomatic promise of absolute violence if provoked.
Hadring swallowed hard, nodding his head rapidly. "Understood. Completely understood. If anyone asks, you're not here."
"Excellent," Aerion nodded. He picked up the two keys, handing one to his bodyguard. "Get some rest, Jenassa. We ride early tomorrow. Drink your mead in your room tonight."
"Aye, Patron," Jenassa agreed, taking the key and heading silently toward the lower hallway, eager to inspect her newly acquired Dwarven bow and Orcish dagger much deeper.
Aerion took the remaining key and headed for his own private suite at the end of the hall. He unlocked the heavy wooden door, stepping into a small, sparsely furnished but blissfully warm room featuring a roaring hearth and a massive, fur covered bed.
The moment Aerion set Lupin down, the cinnamon fox darted across the room, leaped onto the mattress, and furiously burrowed his way completely under the heavy woolen blankets, seeking maximum thermal comfort.
Aerion let out a tired sigh, removing his heavy dark robes and draping them over a wooden chair near the fire. He sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress, his physically perfect body finally registering the exhaustion of the long day.
He had manipulated a Jarl, bought a homestead, secured the Jagged Crown, learned to stop time, and survived a highly awkward romantic entanglement. It had been a wildly productive twenty four hours.
But his business wasn't completely finished.
Aerion closed his eyes, leaning back against the wooden headboard. He centered his mind, reaching inward to fully access the digital interface he had been ignoring since the his dungeon looting in Korvanjund. It was time to face the music. It was time to process the massive backlog of raw, cosmic energy waiting to evolve his physical and magical form. "System," Aerion murmured into the quiet room. "Open the level up notifications."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 350/350 Stamina: 370/370 Magicka: 500/500
Level: 82
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+1)/Lightning/Frost) (Level 43/MAX/43), Restoration (Healing/Purify) (Level 63/37), Alteration (Level 27), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 37/54), Persuasion (Level MAX), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 33), One Handed (Level 67), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 34), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 60), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force) & Tiid (Time)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Steel Dagger, Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, Iron Shield, Steel Mace, Steel Warhammer, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Steel Dagger of Minor Souls, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Ancient Nord Bow, Dragonstone, Ancient Nord Battleaxe Of Blaze, Potion of Minor Pickpocketing, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Golden Emerald Circlet, Copper Sapphire Circlet, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Emerald, Sapphire, Garnet, Silver Garnet Circlet, Jagged Crown, Elven Sword Of Lightning, Elven Shield, & Circlet Of Peerless Alchemy
2x Iron Mace, Steel Axe, Steel Greatsword, Silver Amethyst Ring, Silver Necklace, Gold Emerald Ring, Gold Ingot, & Potion Of Ultimate Magicka
3x Iron Greatsword, Steel Sword, Scroll Of Fireball, Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Silver Ruby Ring, Gold Ruby Ring, Amethyst, Silver Ingot, Quicksilver Ingot, & Black Soul Gems
4x Potions of Minor Magicka & Spider Eggs
5x Lesser Soul Gem, Dwarven Metal Ingot, & Ruby
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 137.07 KG / 485 KG
Septims: 81,452