If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"Before we ascend to grovel before the Princess of Light, Jenassa," Aerion stated, turning his boots purposefully toward the north, his voice ringing with absolute, undeniable greed. "It appears the ancient Nords left a vastly more interesting, vastly more powerful prize resting in the snow. Follow me. We have a Word Wall to see."
Jenassa followed the line of Aerion's golden gaze, squinting through the crisp, freezing winds sweeping across the jagged northern peaks of Haafingar. Through the dusting of light snow, she spotted the massive, unmistakable curved architecture of dark, ancient stone jutting out from a rocky outcropping several hundred meters away from the base of the divine monument.
"A Word Wall," Jenassa observed, her gravelly voice carrying a note of deep, ingrained respect for the ancient Nordic ruins. She looked back at her employer, already knowing his insatiable appetite for knowledge. "Lead the way, Patron. The Daedric Prince can wait a few moments longer."
Aerion offered a sharp, appreciative nod. He adjusted his heavy dark cloak against the biting wind and began the trek across the snow dusted rocks, moving away from the colossal Statue of Meridia.
Lupin trotted eagerly beside them. The tiny cinnamon fox was entirely unbothered by the freezing temperatures, his thick magical coat keeping him perfectly insulated.
As they walked, Lupin became entirely distracted by the pristine environment, occasionally pouncing on small, swirling eddies of snow or digging frantically at a patch of frozen dirt in pursuit of some unseen burrowing insect.
Aerion approached the massive, curved wall of text. Jenassa, displaying her usual flawless mercenary professionalism, immediately broke away from his side. She drew her malachite dagger and Frost Steel Sword took up a defensive position near a cluster of boulders, her crimson eyes scanning the surrounding crags and tree lines to ensure nothing ambushed her Patron while he communed with the ancient magic.
Aerion stepped up to the dark stone. As he drew near, the chanting grew deafening in his mind. The ancient Draconic runes carved into the rock face began to glow with a harsh, brilliant blue light, reacting to the presence of his transmigrated soul and the systemic interface bound to it.
He didn't hesitate. He reached out, placing his bare, golden palm directly against the ancient Nord text runes.
The physical world vanished for a fraction of a second, replaced by a violent, rushing torrent of absolute, ancient knowledge forcing its way into his neural pathways.
The system interface flared brilliantly in his mind's eye.
[Word of Power Discovered!]
[Would you like to learn the first word of the 'Elemental Fury' Shout?]
[Word: Su (Air)]
[YES / NO]
Aerion mentally smashed the YES command without a second thought.
The blue light from the wall violently detached itself, flowing up his arm and absorbing directly into his chest. A sudden, profound understanding of wind, velocity, and atmospheric manipulation bloomed in his consciousness.
Aerion pulled his hand back, letting out a slow, frosty breath. The glow of the runes faded entirely, the ancient stone going dormant once more.
He had successfully added another devastatingly powerful tool to his growing arsenal. Elemental Fury was a phenomenal tactical acquisition. By invoking the true name of the air, he could channel raw, kinetic wind magic directly into his physical strikes, massively increasing the speed and ferocity of his weapon swings. Paired with the devastating enchantments of the Black Prism, he could become a blur of absolute annihilation in close quarters combat.
As he turned away from the wall, Aerion's highly analytical Gamer mind fell into a deep, calculating reflection regarding his progress.
In the vanilla reality of the game he had played in his past life, collecting the Words of Power was often an incredibly tedious, grinding chore. Most casual gamers, playing as the prophesied Dragonborn, rarely bothered to seek out all of the Word Walls. They would unlock three or four essential Shouts, usually Unrelenting Force, Whirlwind Sprint, and perhaps Fire Breath,and completely ignore the rest, unless they were using specific modification scripts to instantly bypass the effort.
Only a tiny, dedicated fraction of completionists ever truly scoured the continent to unlock the full, comprehensive vocabulary of the dragons.
But this wasn't a game to Aerion. This was his actual life, his physical reality, and the threats he faced were not bound by programmed difficulty sliders. He was collecting the Words of Power at an unprecedented, highly accelerated rate compared to the standard timeline. And he fully intended to achieve absolute completion.
He wanted every single Shout in his arsenal. He wanted the ability to freeze time, tear souls, summon storms, command the beasts, and many many more, since the Dragonborn DLC also brought some more shouts to be collected as well.
'The dragons will return anytime now,' Aerion thought, his golden eyes narrowing as he looked up toward the snow capped peaks. 'Alduin's resurrection protocols are inevitable. Whether the returning dragons eventually go extinct under the blades of the Dragonborn, or whether they ultimately choose to follow the Way of the Voice under Paarthurnax's leadership... I must possess the power to utterly dominate them if they cross my path. The Thu'um is the ultimate equalizer.'
With his long term draconic strategy reaffirmed, Aerion walked back toward the cluster of boulders.
"Okay I have felt the mana in here, Jenassa," Aerion announced, pulling his heavy cloak tighter around his shoulders. "Let us return to the statue. It is time to answer the Princess of Light."
They retraced their steps across the snow-dusted rocks, heading back toward the massive, imposing divine monument. Lupin bounded happily alongside them, momentarily distracted by a clump of vibrant, frost resistant blue mountain flowers growing near a stone pillar, before realizing he was being left behind and sprinting to catch up.
They reached the base of Mount Kilkreath and began the long, arduous climb up the steep, ancient stone steps leading directly to the shrine.
As they crested the final set of stairs, the sheer, breathtaking scale of the Statue of Meridia truly set in. The pale stone goddess towered over them, her carved robes billowing in a silent, eternal wind, her arms outstretched toward the heavens.
Situated directly at the feet of the colossal monument was an intricately carved, circular stone pedestal. It was currently empty, waiting for its missing heart.
The moment Aerion stepped onto the stone platform surrounding the pedestal, the ambient sound of the mountain wind was instantly, violently cut off.
A booming, echoing, profoundly arrogant female voice detonated directly inside Aerion's skull, completely bypassing his physical ears.
"YOU HAVE RETURNED, MORTAL," Meridia's telepathic voice commanded, the sheer volume threatening to drop him to his knees. "THE TIME FOR DELAY IS OVER. PLACE THE BEACON UPON MY PEDESTAL, SO THAT I MAY GUIDE YOU TO YOUR DESTINY."
Aerion did not flinch. He already knew exactly what the Daedric Prince was going to say, and he had mentally prepared his shields for the divine intrusion. He maintained his perfect, aristocratic composure.
He opened his digital interface, accessing his spatial void.
With a soft shimmer of displaced light, the glowing, multi faceted geometric sphere materialized perfectly into his waiting palm.
[Item Removed: Meridia's Beacon]
[Inventory Weight Decreased by 0.95 KG]
The Beacon pulsed with a blinding, eager white light the moment it touched the physical air of Mundus, vibrating with latent cosmic energy.
Aerion stepped forward and gently, deliberately placed the geometric orb into the central indentation of the stone pedestal.
The reaction was instantaneous and apocalyptic.
A deafening, booming shockwave of pure, unadulterated white light exploded from the Beacon. It did not merely blind his eyes, it completely overwhelmed his entire sensory apparatus. The freezing wind, the smell of snow, the solid stone beneath his boots,beverything instantly vanished into an endless, searing void of pure radiance.
When the blinding light finally, slowly began to recede, Aerion found himself completely disconnected from his physical body.
His consciousness was floating. He was suspended impossibly, terrifyingly high above the continent. Below him, the entire province of Skyrim was laid out like a massive, intricate tapestry of snow, mountains, and sprawling green plains, partially obscured by a thick, swirling blanket of white clouds. The freezing air of the upper atmosphere rushed around his spectral form.
Floating directly in front of him, burning with the intensity of a miniature, localized sun, was a massive, shifting ball of pure, blinding light.
"LOOK AT MY TEMPLE, MORTAL," Meridia's voice echoed, radiating directly from the burning sphere. The arrogance in her tone was now laced with a deep, furious wrath. "IT IS TIME FOR MY SPLENDOR TO RETURN TO SKYRIM. BUT THE TOKEN OF MY TRUTH LIES BURIED DEEP WITHIN THE RUINS. A PROFOUND, FOUL DARKNESS HAS INFILTRATED MY SANCTUARY, SKITTERING IN THE SHADOWS."
Aerion hovered in the freezing sky, allowing the Daedric Prince to deliver her grand, theatrical monologue. It was nearly identical to the speech he remembered from his past life, though the sheer, terrifying reality of facing a god face to face added a crushing weight to the words.
He waited for a slight pause in her divine rant before interjecting. He needed to accelerate this dialogue tree. He had a mercenary company to manage and an empire to build, he didn't have time for a three hour sermon on the purity of light.
"If I may ask, Princess of Light," Aerion projected his thoughts with absolute, flawless, deferential respect, employing his maximized Persuasion matrix to ensure he didn't sound insolent. "Who would be so foolish, so profoundly suicidal, as to dare defile a temple dedicated to your glory?"
The burning sphere of light flared violently, turning a harsh, angry yellow at the mention of the defiler.
"A MORTAL WORM NAMED MALKORAN," Meridia spat the name with absolute cosmic disgust. "A NECROMANCER OF THE VILEST ORDER. HE HAS SEIZED UPON THE CHAOS OF THIS BREWING CIVIL WAR, TRAPPING THE LOST SOULS OF THE FALLEN MEN AND WOMEN TO DO HIS FOUL BIDDING. HE HAS TAINTED MY TEMPLE WITH HIS NECROTIC CORRUPTION."
The light pulsed, the anger evolving into a cold, terrifying fury.
"AND WHAT IS WORSE," she continued, the sky around them trembling. "HE HAS DUG DEEP INTO MY SHRINE AND SEIZED MY ARTIFACT. HE IS USING THE VERY POWER OF MY LIGHT TO FUEL HIS FOUL BINDINGS, TWISTING IT INTO SHADOW."
Aerion's Gamer mind instantly translated the lore into actionable objectives. Malkoran. Necromancer. Corrupted Shades. Retrieve Dawnbreaker.
He decided to immediately fast track the conversation.
"I understand perfectly, Lady Meridia," Aerion replied respectfully, cutting straight to the core of the quest mechanics. "To summarize your divine will, you wish to make me your chosen champion. You command me to descend into the depths of Kilkreath, brave the darkness, and retrieve your sacred artifact. Upon my success, you will bestow the weapon upon me, officially anointing me as your champion, provided I prove my worth by utterly destroying this Malkoran and cleansing your temple of his defilement."
A heavy, oppressive silence hung in the upper atmosphere for a microsecond. The Daedric Prince was clearly unaccustomed to a mortal so quickly, efficiently, and boldly summarizing her divine decrees without groveling in terror or asking for endless clarifications.
But then, the burning ball of light flared with a brilliant, highly approving hue of pure, warm white. Meridia let out a loud, echoing hum of satisfaction.
"YOU POSSESS A RARE, SHARP MIND FOR A WANDERING MER," Meridia praised, her haughty tone returning. "YOU GRASP THE NECESSITY OF THE CLEANSING WITHOUT HESITATION. YES. YOU WILL DESTROY THE DEFILER. YOU WILL BECOME MY CHAMPION OF CLEANSING LIGHT. AND YOU WILL WIELD MY ARTIFACT TO BURN AWAY THE FOUL DARKNESS OF NECROMANCY WHEREVER IT SKITTERS."
Aerion bowed his spectral head in submission. "I will follow your instructions to the letter, my Lady. The darkness shall be purged."
"THEN YOU MAY BEGIN NOW," Meridia commanded, her voice ringing with absolute finality. "I WILL LEND YOU A FRACTION OF MY POWER. I WILL SEND DOWN A BEAM OF MY PURE LIGHT TO STRIKE THE BEACON. I WILL FORCE THE OUTER DOORS OF MY TEMPLE OPEN, FOR THIS IS STILL MY DOMAIN AND IT HEEDS MY DECREES. ONCE INSIDE, YOU MUST FIND THE CRYSTAL PEDESTALS. YOU WILL GUIDE MY LIGHT THROUGH THE DEPTHS OF THE TEMPLE TO FORCE THE INNER DOORS OPEN. NOW, GO."
Before Aerion could project a single word of confirmation, the cosmic connection was violently, abruptly severed.
The sensation of floating instantly vanished. Aerion felt a terrifying, stomach churning sensation of freefall. The sky, the clouds, and the burning sphere of light warped and collapsed in on themselves. He was plummeting toward the earth at a speed that defied physics.
SLAM.
Aerion gasped sharply, his golden eyes snapping open.
His physical senses rushed back to him all at once. The freezing wind bit at his cheeks, and the solid stone of the pedestal dug into the soles of his boots. He staggered slightly, his highly tuned equilibrium desperately trying to realign itself after the astral projection.
"Patron! Patron, can you hear me?!"
Jenassa's urgent, gravelly voice broke through the ringing in his ears.
Aerion blinked, focusing his vision. The Dark Elf assassin was standing directly in front of him, her hands gripping his arms to steady him. Her crimson eyes were wide with genuine, uncharacteristic anxiety.
"I... I have returned, Jenassa," Aerion breathed, standing tall and smoothing his dark robes to immediately reassert his composure. "My consciousness has been returned to my body."
Jenassa let out a long, heavy, visible sigh of relief, the mist of her breath pluming in the freezing air. She released his arms, taking a respectful step back.
"By the Ancestors, I was beginning to fear she had decided to keep you," Jenassa muttered, shaking her head. "You have been standing there, completely frozen and unresponsive, for nearly five minutes. And then, without warning..."
She pointed a gauntleted finger upward.
Aerion followed her gaze. Striking the geometric Beacon resting on the pedestal was a massive, blindingly bright, continuous beam of pure white light shooting directly down from the heavens. The light hit the crystal orb and fractured, shooting a secondary, highly concentrated laser of light directly toward a specific point on the stone architecture above the temple entrance.
"She has given her mandate," Aerion explained, turning his gaze toward the massive stone doors built into the side of the mountain. "The temple has been infiltrated by a powerful Necromancer named Malkoran. He is trapping the souls of fallen soldiers to create an army of corrupted shades, and he has stolen her sacred artifact. She has forcefully unlocked the outer doors for us. We are to follow the light inside, guide it through the crystal network, and completely eradicate the necromancy."
Jenassa drew her twin malachite blades, the metallic schwing echoing sharply in the cold air. The anxiety of facing the unknown divine was instantly replaced by the cold, familiar comfort of professional violence.
"Necromancers and corrupted shades," Jenassa summarized flatly. "A straightforward contract. Let us clean house, Patron."
Aerion nodded approvingly. He turned to the side, heading toward the massive, heavily fortified entrance of Kilkreath Temple built into the rocky cliff face below the statue.
As they approached, the heavy iron banded stone doors, which had likely been sealed shut for centuries, ground open with a terrifyingly loud, echoing scrape of stone on stone, responding directly to the Daedric Prince's will.
Aerion, Jenassa, and Lupin stepped across the threshold, leaving the freezing winds of Haafingar behind them and entering the dark, sacred depths of Oblivion's reach.
The interior of Kilkreath Temple was vast and echoing. Despite being abandoned for centuries and currently occupied by a defiler, the ambient magic of the Daedric Prince still held sway.
The heavy iron wall sconces, the massive stone fire braziers, and the hanging iron torches spontaneously burst into life as they entered, casting dancing, flickering orange light across the dusty stone floorboards and the intricate, geometric carvings lining the walls.
The air was heavy, smelling of ozone, ancient dust, and the sickly, sweet stench of necrotic decay.
They walked cautiously down a long, wide set of ancient stone stairs, the silence broken only by the soft padding of their boots and the clicking of Lupin's claws. The temple architecture was clearly old, characterized by sharp angles, massive stone pillars, and wide, open hallways designed to reflect the glory of light.
They reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the primary path as it curved gently to the right.
"Hold," Jenassa whispered, coming to an immediate halt.
Situated directly to their left, built into a small alcove, was a heavy, reinforced iron door. Unlike the main entrance, this door remained firmly shut.
Aerion stepped up to the door, testing the heavy iron ring. It didn't budge. "Locked. Standard tumblers, not magically sealed."
"Step aside, Patron," Jenassa offered, smoothly holstering her left blade and producing a set of thin, delicate steel lockpicks from a hidden pouch on her belt.
She knelt before the heavy iron door. With practiced, flawless precision, she slid the tension wrench into the keyhole, followed by the delicate pick. She didn't rely on magic, she relied entirely on years of breaking into heavily guarded manor houses in Morrowind. She listened intently to the subtle clicks of the internal pins.
Three seconds later, a highly satisfying, heavy clack echoed in the alcove.
"Open," Jenassa announced, pushing the heavy iron door inward.
Aerion stepped into the small, dark side room. It wasn't an armory or a vault; it was a dedicated mechanical control room. Situated in the absolute center of the stone floor was a heavy, waist-high iron lever, attached to a complex network of ancient gears running beneath the floorboards.
"A master control switch," Aerion noted. "Pull it."
Jenassa stepped forward, gripping the heavy iron handle. With a grunt of exertion, she hauled the lever backward.
A loud, grinding rumble of heavy machinery echoed through the temple walls, followed by the distinct, heavy crash of a massive iron portcullis dropping open somewhere nearby.
They immediately exited the control room, stepping back out into the main hallway. Directly opposite the lever room, but situated slightly further up an elevated ramp, a heavy iron gate that had previously blocked access to a small side chamber was now wide open.
They walked up the ramp and entered the newly opened room.
The chamber was small, dusty, and clearly served as a minor storage vault for the ancient priests. Resting casually on a stone shelf to the right was an Ancient Nord Sword, its iron blade heavily rusted and chipped from centuries of neglect.
Aerion's Gamer eyes swept over it, instantly determining it held absolutely no value compared to the iron he had just bought in bulk. He left it untouched.
However, resting directly in the center of the room was a heavy, sturdy steel chest.
Aerion stepped up to the chest, effortlessly throwing the heavy lid open. He bypassed the ancient, rotting burial linens and reached directly for the raw currency scattered at the bottom.
[Gold Acquired: 220 Septims]
[Current Septims: 78,451]
"No enchanted gear, no potions," Aerion muttered, disappointed by the lack of high tier loot. "Just pocket change. Let us keep moving."
They exited the small vault, returning to the primary, torch lit hallway. They followed the path as it curved sharply to the left, descending another short flight of stairs, before turning left once again.
The narrow hallway suddenly opened up, spilling them out onto a raised stone balcony overlooking a massive, incredibly spacious central hall.
Aerion walked to the edge of the balcony, looking down.
The architecture here was magnificent. The ceiling was impossibly high, supported by massive, intricately carved stone pillars. But what immediately commanded their attention was the center of the room.
Piercing through a massive, circular skylight in the ceiling was the blinding, highly concentrated laser beam of pure white light that Meridia had fired from the heavens. The light shot straight down into the darkness of the temple.
Situated directly in the center of the massive hall, at the very bottom of a wide set of descending stone stairs, was a highly complex, intricately carved stone pedestal. Resting atop the pedestal was a massive, flawless, multi faceted crystal.
The beam of divine light was striking the crystal perfectly. The crystal captured the light, amplifying it, and refracting a second, equally powerful laser beam deeper into the shadowed, locked corridors of the temple.
"The light network," Aerion murmured, his tactical mind instantly understanding the overarching puzzle mechanics of the dungeon. "We must follow the refracted beams. We must align the pedestals to force her divine light deeper into the mountain to burn away the barricades."
Aerion drew the Black Prism from its scabbard. The dark ebony metal flared with its sinister, blood red aura, humming with eager, apocalyptic lethality. "Stay sharp, Jenassa," Aerion commanded, stepping off the balcony and walking slowly down the wide stone steps toward the glowing central pedestal. "The light here will begin guiding us deeper. Meaning that the shadows are waiting for them to strike us."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 420/420 Stamina: 400/400 Magicka: 570/570
Level: 99
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+2)/Lightning(+1)/Frost) (Level 54/19/89), Restoration (Healing/Purify) (Level 76/MAX), Alteration (Level 35), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 37/MAX), Persuasion(+1) (Level 30), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 33), One Handed (Level 76), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim (Fade), & Su (Air)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Dragonstone, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Glass Sword, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, & Deed to Tundra Homestead
2x Potion Of Ultimate Magicka, Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), & Elven Sword
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, & Black Soul Gems (Filled)
4x Potions of Minor Magicka & Spider Eggs
5x Lesser Soul Gem
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 73.69 KG / 500 KG
Septims: 78,451