If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, 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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His six Daedra had systematically butchered the remaining loyalists, and the surviving cowards had fled into the waiting crossbows of the Morthal guard. The blood farm was destroyed. The coven was eradicated. Morthal was safe. Aerion leaned heavily on Dawnbreaker, allowing a genuine, utterly exhausted smile to touch his lips. The war was won.
His towering frame was hunched slightly, his chest heaving with deep, ragged gasps for air. Sweat beaded on his flawless golden forehead, mixing with the soot and ash drifting through the damp cavern.
To his right, Jenassa was on one knee. The Dark Elf assassin was clutching her ribs, her breath coming in short, painful hisses as she endured the lingering, biting chill of the frost magic that had struck her chest. Aeloria stood a few feet away, leaning heavily on the Glass Sword, her Imperial leather armor torn and her thigh actively bleeding down her boot from the desperate melee.
They had survived the apex predator, but their mortal bodies were pushed to the absolute brink.
Aerion did not allow the pain to settle. He forced his breathing to steady, lifting his head. His Magicka reserves were practically non existent, drained to their absolute dregs by the catastrophic Fire Storms, the localized wards, and the massive Daedric summonings.
He had just enough arcane fuel left for one final push.
"Gather," Aerion rasped, his melodic voice rough with exhaustion.
Jenassa and Aeloria limped closer, forming a tight circle around the High Elf.
Aerion raised his left hand, closing his eyes as he scraped the absolute bottom of his Restoration matrix. He didn't cast a massive, room clearing wave this time, he focused the magic into a dense, highly localized sphere of pure, golden healing energy directly over the three of them.
The warm, divine light washed down over their battered bodies.
The relief was instantaneous and profound. Aeloria watched in breathless awe as the deep, bleeding gash on her thigh seamlessly stitched itself back together, leaving smooth, unblemished skin behind. Jenassa let out a long, shuddering sigh as the deep, agonizing ache in her ribs vanished, the dark bruising fading beneath her ash gray skin. Aerion felt the throbbing pain in his bicep disappear entirely as the muscle re fused.
The spell flickered and died, leaving Aerion completely, utterly tapped out of Magicka. A sharp, dizzying headache spiked behind his eyes, the physical symptom of arcane exhaustion.
He didn't hesitate. He engaged his digital void, instantly manifesting two thick, ornate glass vials filled with a violently glowing, swirling blue liquid.
Potion of Ultimate Magicka.
He popped the corks with his thumb and downed the two incredibly rare, tremendously expensive alchemical concoctions in rapid succession. The taste was sharp, metallic, and overwhelmingly sweet. The moment the liquid hit his stomach, an absolute, freezing rush of pure, unadulterated arcane energy exploded through his nervous system.
The dizzying headache vanished instantly. His neural pathways flared to life, his massive 620 point Magicka pool instantly surging from zero to absolute, overflowing maximum capacity in the blink of an eye. The passive, background regeneration hummed pleasantly in his chest.
He was fully armed once more.
Aerion turned his attention toward the dark tunnels branching off from the ruined dining hall. The six towering, terrifying Daedric entities he had summoned, the roaring Flame Atronachs, the hulking Frost Atronachs, and the crackling Storm Atronachs, were systematically sweeping the perimeter.
He could hear the occasional, desperate shriek of a fleeing vampire or a thrall being brutally cut down in the dark, followed by the heavy, indifferent thuds of elemental destruction.
A few moments later, the cavern fell entirely silent. The outer perimeter was completely purged.
The Atronachs hovered back into the main chamber, turning their featureless, elemental faces toward their master, awaiting further commands.
"Your task is complete. Return to the void," Aerion commanded smoothly, waving his hand.
With six simultaneous, deafening cracks of displaced air, the purple rifts of Oblivion tore open behind the Daedra, swallowing the massive entities whole and sealing shut without a trace.
With the battlefield definitively secured, Aerion finally allowed his transmigrator mind to process the sheer, unimaginable volume of systemic data that had been desperately queuing in his peripheral vision during the battle.
He opened his digital interface, and the glowing text cascaded down in an absolute waterfall of golden light.
[Destruction (Fire) (+2) Leveled Up 23 Times!]
[Destruction (Fire) has reached MAX LEVEL!]
Aerion felt a terrifying, absolute mastery over thermal energy settle into his bones. His custom targeted Fire Storms had absolutely decimated a high level coven, force feeding his skill an astronomical amount of experience.
[Restoration (Healing) Leveled Up 18 Times!]
[Restoration (Healing) has reached MAX LEVEL!]
[Restoration (Purify) (+1) Leveled Up 30 Times!]
[Restoration (Purify) has reached MAX LEVEL!]
The sheer volume of undead annihilated by his holy magic, combined with the desperate, high level group healing he had performed, pushed his divine capabilities to the absolute zenith.
[Conjuration (Summoning) (+1) Leveled Up 16 Times! Current Level: 26]
[Sneak Leveled Up 27 Times! Current Level: 75]
[One Handed (+1) Leveled Up 28 Times! Current Level: 42]
[Light Armor Leveled Up 24 Times! Current Level: 77]
Aerion's eyes widened slightly, a massive, genuinely sociopathic smile of pure Gamer satisfaction spreading across his flawless aristocratic features.
The sheer density of the enemies, combined with their high base levels, had resulted in an absolute, unprecedented explosion of systemic growth. His newly reset One Handed skill had instantly rocketed back up to level 42 simply from dual wielding against a Master Vampire. His Sneak had grown massively from navigating the populated lair.
But it was the final, summarizing notification that truly cemented his absolute supremacy.
[MASSIVE LEVEL UP DETECTED!]
[You have leveled up 10 times! You are now Level 121!]
[You have gained 10 Attribute Points! Current Unspent Points: 10]
Ten attribute points. It was an absolutely staggering reserve of stats points.
Aerion closed the interface, his mind humming with triumphant calculation. He decided instantly to bank the attribute points.
His current Health, Magicka, and Stamina ratios were perfectly balanced for his current operational needs. He would keep the ten points in reserve, allowing him to instantly and dynamically adapt his physical or arcane density in the middle of a future, unpredictable crisis.
"The coven is broken," Aerion announced, his melodic voice echoing in the quiet cavern. He turned his golden eyes toward his two battered but victorious companions. "Now, we harvest the spoils of war. Leave nothing of value behind."
He gestured gracefully across the sprawling, smoldering ruins of the dining hall and the connecting tunnels.
"Jenassa, Aeloria. Spread out and sweep the entire cavern system. Check the dormitories, the storage crates, and the corpses of the thralls," Aerion instructed with cold, mercantile efficiency. "Pay special attention to the remains of the pureblood vampires. Those that were incinerated by my magic or the Flame Atronachs have been reduced entirely to ash. Collect every single pile of Vampire Dust you can find. It is a highly potent, exceptionally valuable alchemical reagent."
"Understood, Patron," Jenassa nodded, her mercenary instincts instantly overriding her exhaustion. She drew a small leather pouch from her belt and vanished into the shadows.
"I'll check the upper sleeping quarters," Aeloria agreed, wiping the sweat from her brow as she marched toward the wooden ramp.
With his strike team deployed on looting duty, Aerion turned his attention to the true prize of the battle.
He walked slowly toward the center of the ruined floor, approaching the spot where Movarth Piquine had violently detonated.
Lying empty on the stone floor, completely devoid of the ancient flesh that had inhabited it, was the Master Vampire's personal armor. It was an exquisite set of Vampire Royal Armor, tailored from the finest, midnight black leather, accented with polished silver clasps and a high, imposing crimson collar. Resting near the collar were the matching, heavily reinforced leather boots.
Aerion knelt down, carefully brushing the thick layer of glowing, golden ash off the pristine leather. The armor was surprisingly light, yet possessed an incredibly dense, magically reinforced weave.
"a trophy fit for a king," Aerion mused.
He engaged his spatial void, absorbing the armor and boots directly into his inventory.
[Item Stored: Vampire Armor]
[Item Stored: Vampire Boots]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 3.64 KG.]
He then unclasped Dawnbreaker from his hand, the radiant golden light fading as the legendary artifact disappeared back into his digital armory, restoring the gloomy shadows of the cave.
Aerion then turned his attention to the ash itself.
Standard vampires, when killed by fire or sunlight, left behind a pile of gray, gritty dust. But Movarth had been executed by the divine, Daedric wrath of Meridia herself. The pile of ash resting on the stone floor wasn't gray; it was a brilliant, shimmering, almost metallic gold.
Aerion's advanced alchemical knowledge instantly recognized the anomaly. In the vanilla game engine, Movarth's ashes were just standard, generic Vampire Dust.
But in this real, deeply complex universe, the physical remains of an ancient Master Vampire purified by Daedric light had to possess completely unique, potentially apocalyptic alchemical properties.
He retrieved a small, empty glass phial from his void. Using the edge of his pristine sleeve, he carefully, meticulously swept every single grain of the golden ash into the glass, corking it tightly.
[Item Stored: Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique)]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 0.01 KG.]
With the high value boss loot secured, Aerion proceeded to systematically sweep the immediate vicinity of the dining hall.
He moved from corpse to corpse, utilizing his Thief Stone efficiency. He rifled through the pockets of the dead thralls and the intact vampires. He found loose coin purses, scattered gems that had been knocked from the table during the explosions, and the weapon the Master Vampire had dropped.
[Items Stored: 436 Septims]
[Items Stored: 3 Flawless Sapphires, 2 Amethysts, 3 Garnets]
[Item Stored: Dwarven Sword]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 3.23 KG.]
He inspected the Dwarven Sword briefly as he stored it. The heavy, golden bronze alloy was perfectly balanced and lethally sharp, but he noted with slight disappointment that it lacked any inherent magical enchantments. Movarth had relied entirely on his raw, monstrous physical strength to wield it. It would fetch a highly respectable price from Adrianne Avenicci in Whiterun, but it was not an artifact.
A few minutes later, the sound of heavy, clanking metal echoed from the upper tunnels.
Aerion turned to see Jenassa emerging from the shadows, followed closely by Aeloria.
However, Aeloria looked drastically, completely different.
The Dragonborn was no longer wearing the light, studded leather of an Imperial scout. She was absolutely encased in heavy steel.
Aeloria had completely stripped a heavily armored vampire thrall in the upper dormitories. She was now wearing an almost complete, masterfully forged set of Steel Plate Armor.
The heavy, interlocking plates of polished steel covered her chest, shoulders, and shins, connected seamlessly by thick, incredibly durable steel chainmail at the joints. The heavy steel gauntlets and sabatons clanked with terrifying, undeniable weight with every step she took. The only piece missing was the helmet.
"A magnificent upgrade, Aeloria," Aerion praised smoothly, genuinely impressed by the sheer intimidation factor she now projected. The heavy armor perfectly complemented her aggressive combat style.
Aeloria stopped in front of him, twisting her torso slightly to test the mobility of the heavy plates. She wrinkled her nose in profound, highly visible disgust.
"The protection is incredible, Aerion. It fits almost perfectly," Aeloria admitted, her voice echoing slightly against the high steel gorget protecting her neck. "But by the Eight, it smells absolutely atrocious! It reeks of stale blood, damp cave moss, and... well, dead thrall. I am going to have to boil the chainmail in vinegar for a week just to get the stench of the grave out of the padding."
Jenassa let out a rare, low chuckle. "A small price to pay for steel that will stop a warhammer, Nord. The smell fades. The protection remains."
"Indeed," Aerion agreed, highly pleased with the tactical acquisition.
Jenassa stepped forward, handing over a heavy, bulging leather sack of coin and several items she had scavenged from the outer tunnels.
"The cavern is entirely stripped, Patron," Jenassa reported crisply. "I secured a significant haul from the master chests in the rear chambers. One thousand, one hundred and twenty five septims in loose coinage. A handful of heavy gold and iron necklaces, though they lack embedded jewels. And a pair of supple hide boots I found near an end table. The leather hums with a potent muffling enchantment, it will mask the wearer's footsteps entirely. Of course this are all the Vampires Dust we found."
Aerion nodded approvingly, absorbing the entire haul directly into his spatial void with a wave of his hand.
[Items Stored: 1,125 Septims]
[Items Stored: Hide Boots Of Sneak]
[Item Stored: 3 Gold Necklace, 3 Iron Necklace, & 7 Vampires Dust]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 2.10 KG.]
"Exceptional work, both of you," Aerion praised, his golden eyes sweeping the devastated cavern one final time. The fires had died down to glowing embers. The coven was entirely, permanently erased from Nirn.
"There is nothing left of value in this tomb," Aerion declared, turning toward the ascending tunnel. "We have finished our business in the dark. Let us return to the light."
The three warriors, accompanied by the silent, trotting fox, formed up and began the long, upward trek toward the surface.
They retraced their steps perfectly, passing through the smoldering, charred remains of the spider nest on the wooden scaffolding, and winding their way up the narrow, claustrophobic stone throat of the cave.
Slowly, the oppressive darkness gave way to the weak, diffuse gray light of the foggy Hjaalmarch morning.
They stepped out of the jagged cavern mouth, the crisp, freezing air of the swamp hitting their lungs like a physical wave of relief.
Instantly, the quiet of the swamp was shattered by the sharp, metallic sounds of fifteen heavy wooden crossbows being violently racked and raised.
CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!
"Hold!" a massive voice roared through the fog.
Housecarl Gorm and the fifteen Morthal guards were rigidly entrenched in the tree line directly ahead of the cavern. Their shields were locked, their faces pale and tense, their crossbows leveled directly at the silhouettes emerging from the dark.
They had been standing out in the freezing fog for hours, listening to the muffled, terrifying, apocalyptic explosions of fire and lightning shaking the very ground beneath their boots. They were fully prepared to volley silver into anything that moved.
But as the fog parted, revealing the towering, immaculate High Elf, the scarred Dark Elf, and the heavily armored Nord woman, the unbearable tension instantly shattered.
"Stand down! Lower your weapons! It's the Elf!" Gorm bellowed, violently waving his massive hands to signal the guards.
The fifteen crossbows were immediately lowered, several of the guards letting out loud, shuddering gasps of absolute, unadulterated relief.
Gorm broke from the shield wall, practically sprinting across the muddy ground to meet the strike team. His fierce eyes wide with disbelief, he aggressively looked the three of them up and down.
He expected to see three mangled, bleeding, barely breathing survivors dragging themselves out of the lair.
Instead, Aerion's dark robes were completely immaculate, free of a single drop of blood or a speck of ash. Jenassa looked perfectly composed, not a single scratch on her leather armor. And Aeloria... the Nord woman had walked into the cave wearing simple Imperial leather, and had walked out wearing a priceless, pristine set of heavy Steel Plate armor.
They looked as though they had just returned from a brisk morning stroll, not a war against an ancient myth.
"By the blood of Shor," Gorm breathed, his voice thick with absolute, awe struck bewilderment. He looked at Aerion's flawless golden face. "Aerion... is it done? In the name of the Eight, tell me... is the cave cleared? Have you slain Movarth?"
Aerion stood tall, projecting an aura of absolute, victorious authority. He offered a slow, deeply satisfying nod.
"The cavern has been entirely purged, Housecarl," Aerion announced, his melodic voice ringing clearly over the silent swamp. "The thralls are dead. The coven is ashes. And Movarth Piquine has been permanently, violently erased from this world. His scheme is finished."
Aerion gestured casually toward the dark mouth of the cave behind him.
"You and your men are free to march inside and verify the carnage yourselves," Aerion invited smoothly. "Though I warn you, the smell of burning vampire is not pleasant. Furthermore, I trust your perimeter held? Did any stragglers attempt to slip your net?"
Gorm stared at the High Elf for a long, silent moment, entirely processing the magnitude of the miracle that had just occurred. His town was safe. His Jarl was safe. The blood farm was dead.
Slowly, the tension completely drained from the massive Housecarl's scarred face, replaced by a massive, fiercely joyous, incredibly bloodthirsty Nordic grin. "Not a single shadow breached our line, Aerion," Gorm laughed loudly, a booming sound of pure relief. "The perimeter was iron. And as for checking the cave... I think I'll take your word for it, my friend. Let us return to Highmoon Hall. The Jarl is going to want to hear this."
_____________________________
[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 440/440 Stamina: 450/450 Magicka: 620/620
Level: 111 ➝ 121
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 MAX/41/MAX), Restoration (Healing/Purify(+1)) (Level MAX/MAX), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/26), Persuasion(+1) (Level 60), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 75), One Handed(+1) (Level 42), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor (Level 77), 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, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, & Hide Boots Of Sneak
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, & Amethysts
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Common Soul Gem (Filled), Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, & Iron Necklace
4x Spider Eggs & Garnets
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
7x Vampires Dust
8x Iron Arrows, Ancient Nord Arrows, & Black Soul Gems (Filled)
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 77.60 KG / 525 KG
Septims: 78,654
