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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Aerion paused, letting the heavy, terrifying tactical reality sink in. "My associates and I will now enter the dark," Aerion announced, turning away from the militia and facing the yawning, pitch black mouth of Movarth's Lair. "Ensure nothing leaves it alive."
Hearing Aerion's chilling tactical instructions, Gorm gave a slow, deeply resolute nod. The survival of his town, his Jarl, and his own family rested entirely on ensuring nothing escaped this dark hole.
"Do not worry about our flank, Aerion," Gorm rumbled, his voice low and rock steady. He gestured to the fifteen heavily armed, tense guards forming a rigid, overlapping perimeter among the dead, twisted pine trees. "We will supervise everything out here. You and your associates just focus entirely on clearing out the belly of that cave and taking down Movarth. Nothing gets past this shield wall alive. That is a promise."
Aerion offered a smooth, respectful nod to the Nord commander. He then turned his golden eyes toward his own small, elite strike team.
"Jenassa. Aeloria," Aerion addressed them softly, his melodic voice completely devoid of fear. "Are you prepared for the descent?"
Jenassa offered a silent, predatory smile, her crimson eyes gleaming as she adjusted the leather grip of her Frost Steel Sword. Aeloria stood tall, taking a deep breath of the freezing swamp air to steady her nerves, and nodded her head firmly.
"We are ready, Aerion," the Dragonborn stated, her voice carrying absolute conviction.
Aerion did not immediately issue the order to march. Instead, he unclipped the heavy leather scabbard from his hip. He drew the Black Prism, the razor sharp ebony blade humming faintly with the contained, volatile energies of its quadruple enchantments in the morning gloom.
To the absolute shock of the entire assembly, the towering High Elf flipped the dark blade smoothly, offering the heavy leather hilt directly to Aeloria.
"Take it," Aerion commanded softly.
Aeloria's bright blue eyes widened in profound, genuine disbelief. She looked from the terrifying, priceless ebony artifact to Aerion's calm face.
"Aerion... I cannot take this," Aeloria stammered, raising her hands defensively. "This is your primary weapon. It is a masterpiece. I am merely carrying standard Imperial steel. If I take your blade, you will be entirely unarmed in a master vampire's lair!"
"I am a master of the arcane, Aeloria. My hands are never truly unarmed," Aerion replied smoothly, pressing the heavy hilt into her grasp. "Furthermore, the standard Imperial steel you carry is entirely insufficient for the physical density of the undead we are about to face. Since we did not possess the time to purchase you proper armor and weaponry in the city, you must wield this. Its enchantments will level the physical playing field for you. I fully expect we will find suitable armaments within Movarth's hoard to properly outfit you later."
Aeloria felt the sheer, terrifying weight and perfect balance of the Black Prism in her hands. The raw power humming beneath the dark metal was intoxicating.
"But... are you absolutely sure?" she asked, still hesitant to strip a mage of his only melee defense.
Aerion offered a highly charismatic, deeply reassuring smile. "I am entirely certain. Do not worry about my defense, Aeloria. I still possess a highly lethal surprise hidden securely up my sleeve that you have not yet seen. Trust me."
Unable to argue with his flawless logic, Aeloria gave a slow, deeply honored nod. "Thank you, Aerion. I will not let this blade fall."
With their armaments optimized, the three warriors, accompanied by the tiny, alert form of Lupin the fox, turned away from the guard perimeter and approached the dark entrance of Movarth's Lair.
As they reached the threshold, Jenassa seamlessly executed a purely pragmatic tactical maneuver. The Dark Elf assassin drew a simple iron dagger from her boot, stepped up to one of the heavy wooden poles flanking the entrance, and sliced the thick leather bindings holding the iron torch cage in place.
She caught the burning torch as it fell, holding it aloft. The flickering orange flame instantly pushed back the suffocating, pitch black darkness of the cavern's throat.
They crossed the threshold, leaving the freezing fog behind, and officially entered the subterranean domain of the vampires.
The air inside the cave was heavy, damp, and unnervingly still. The ambient temperature was slightly warmer than the swamp outside, but it carried a foul, stale scent of wet stone and decay.
They followed the natural, winding tunnel downward into the earth. The rocky path grew increasingly narrow and cramped, the jagged ceiling forcing Aerion to stoop slightly to accommodate his towering frame.
After several minutes of tense, silent navigation, the narrow tunnel suddenly widened. A faint, eerie, ambient bluish light filtered through the gloom ahead.
They stepped out of the stone tunnel and found themselves standing on a wide, sturdy, artificially constructed wooden floorboard suspended high above the cavern floor.
Aerion crept to the edge of the wooden scaffolding, looking down.
The sight below was enough to make a normal man's skin crawl. The lower cavern floor was completely blanketed in a thick, dense, suffocating layer of pale white cobwebs. The sticky silk coated the jagged stalagmites and draped across the stone walls like gruesome curtains.
And moving fluidly within that sea of webs were dozens of massive, multi eyed horrors of Frostbite Spiders.
Movarth had actively cultivated a massive nest of the venomous arachnids at the entrance of his lair, utilizing them as a natural, lethal biological alarm system to deter wandering animals and curious guards.
Aerion did not hesitate. He did not intend to sneak past them and risk a venomous ambush from the rear.
"Exterminate them from above," Aerion whispered to Jenassa.
The Dark Elf assassin immediately planted the torch securely into a gap in the wooden floorboards. She unslung her heavy Dwarven Bow, nocking a heavy steel arrow.
Aerion raised both of his hands, looking down into the writhing pit of arachnids. He didn't bother with subtle magic.
He bypassed his basic fire spells and tapped directly into the absolute pinnacle of his max level Destruction matrix.
Incinerate.
Blinding, superheated, compressed spheres of absolute thermal annihilation ignited in his palms. The sheer heat radiating from his hands instantly dried the damp air around them.
He unleashed hell.
The massive fireballs streaked downward from the wooden scaffolding, slamming directly into the center of the spider nest. The explosions were deafening, a concussive shockwave of pure fire that instantly vaporized the thick, highly flammable cobwebs.
The initial blast instantly incinerated half a dozen massive spiders, reducing them to smoking, curled husks of charred chitin before they could even register the attack.
THWIP. THWIP. THWIP.
Beside him, Jenassa laid down a relentless, terrifyingly precise barrage of covering fire. Every time a heavy steel arrow struck a spider, her Dwarven Bow's lethal fire enchantment detonated, setting the beasts ablaze and sending them shrieking in agony.
But Frostbite Spiders were highly aggressive, territorial predators.
Surviving the initial bombardment, several of the massive arachnids hissed violently, their eight legs carrying them with terrifying speed as they scrambled directly up the vertical wooden support beams of the scaffolding, intending to swarm their attackers.
"Watch the flanks!" Aerion commanded, maintaining his magical artillery barrage on the floor below.
Aeloria was ready. The Dragonborn stepped up to the edge of the wooden platform, the Black Prism raised high. As the first massive spider crested the edge of the floorboards, lunging forward with venom dripping from its mandibles, Aeloria swung the heavy ebony blade.
The weapon's triple enchantments flared violently in the dark. The blade cleaved cleanly through the spider's thick exoskeleton, instantly freezing the wound, electrocuting the nervous system, and setting the beast on fire simultaneously. The spider collapsed into a twitching, smoking heap.
Aeloria moved with ruthless, practiced efficiency, severing legs and crushing thoraxes, ensuring not a single arachnid managed to establish a foothold on the platform.
In less than sixty seconds, the chaotic ambush was over.
The lower cavern floor was a smoldering, burning ruin of charred webs and dead spiders. The thick smell of roasted chitin and ozone hung heavy in the air.
"The biological perimeter is cleared," Aerion noted calmly, the glowing fire fading from his palms.
Jenassa retrieved her torch, and the trio carefully descended the wooden ramp, walking slowly and deliberately through the smoldering carcasses of the dead spiders.
They pressed deeper into the heart of the lair. The natural stone tunnel widened again, transitioning into a vast, sprawling subterranean chamber. The architecture here showed distinct signs of intelligent, dark occupation. Iron braziers hung from the ceiling, casting long, flickering shadows, and several wooden barricades had been erected near the tunnel exits.
Aerion raised a closed fist, signaling for absolute silence. They transitioned into a deeply crouched, stealthy advance, using the natural rock formations for cover.
Aerion leaned carefully around a jagged stone stalagmite, peering into the sprawling chamber ahead.
The area was heavily populated. Gathered around a massive, blood stained wooden feasting table were nearly a dozen pale figures.
Several of them were heavily armed Nords and Bretons with glazed, vacant eyes, human thralls, completely mind controlled to serve as expendable, daytime guards. But standing among them, identifiable by their glowing red eyes, unnatural pallor, and the elegant, dark armor they wore, were four pureblood vampires.
Aerion pulled his head back, quietly briefing his strike team.
"We have visual contact. Multiple hostiles," Aerion whispered, his tone all business. "A mixed unit of expendable human thralls and four true vampires. The layout dictates a heavy frontal engagement."
He looked directly at Aeloria and Jenassa.
"You two will push the vanguard and establish the frontline melee combat. Keep their attention entirely focused on your steel," Aerion instructed. "I will remain in the mid line, providing heavy magical shoots and crowd control. However, I must caution you both, do not become arrogant. These are not simple bandits. The vampires possess supernatural speed, and the thralls feel absolutely no pain. If the pressure becomes overwhelming, do not attempt to be heroes. Fall back to my position immediately, and I will incinerate the gap."
Jenassa and Aeloria offered grim, synchronized nods. They understood the stakes perfectly.
"On my mark," Aerion commanded.
He stepped out from behind the stone pillar, instantly drawing the hostile attention of the entire chamber.
Before the vampires could even draw their weapons or cast a ward, Aerion launched his opening salvo. He dual cast his absolute heaviest ordnance. From his right hand, a massive, superheated Incinerate fireball streaked across the cavern. From his left hand, a blinding, brilliant sphere of Grand Purification holy magic illuminated the dark.
The dual spells slammed directly into the center of the clustered hostiles.
The explosion of conflicting thermal and holy energies was devastating. The fireball violently hurled three human thralls across the room, completely shattering the wooden table, while the holy magic washed over two of the vampires, causing their pale skin to blister and smoke as they let out inhuman, echoing shrieks of agony.
But they did not die instantly.
These were seasoned members of Movarth's coven, deeply saturated with dark magic. Despite the horrific burns, the vampires hissed violently, drawing dark steel swords and launching themselves forward with terrifying, blurring speed, followed closely by the surviving, mind controlled thralls.
"Engage!" Aerion roared.
Aeloria and Jenassa surged forward, meeting the undead charge head on.
The subterranean chamber instantly devolved into a chaotic, brutally violent melee. The sheer speed of the vampires was incredibly difficult to manage. Jenassa found herself locked in a blurring, high speed duel with two pale assassins, her Frost Steel sword sparking wildly in the dark as she desperately parried their lightning fast strikes.
Aeloria fought like a cornered lioness. The Black Prism in her hands was a devastating equalizer, but the sheer numbers of the thralls pressing in around her forced her to constantly backpedal.
A mind controlled Nord swung a heavy iron mace with completely reckless, suicidal abandon. Aeloria parried the blow, but the raw kinetic force knocked her slightly off balance. A vampire lunged into the opening, its blade slicing a shallow, bleeding gash across Aeloria's upper arm.
"Gah!" Aeloria grunted, ignoring the pain and retaliating with a brutal backhand swing that severed the vampire's arm completely.
Even from the mid line, Aerion was not safe. A highly agile vampire vaulted entirely over Jenassa's guard, diving directly at the High Elf with its fangs bared. Aerion sidestepped the lethal lunge, bringing his forearm up to block, but the vampire's razor sharp claws raked across his shoulder, tearing through the pristine fabric of his dark robes and drawing a line of hot blood.
The combat was the absolute most difficult, high pressure group engagement Aerion had faced since his transmigration. The sheer physical superiority of the vampires forced him to utilize every ounce of his systemic processing speed.
He didn't panic. He utilized his highly upgraded magic with surgical, terrifying precision.
He hurled localized bursts of Frostbite at the vampires' legs, rapidly freezing their boots to the stone floor and stripping away their supernatural speed. Whenever a thrall attempted to flank Jenassa, Aerion blasted them backward with kinetic shockwaves of Thunderbolt.
Slowly, methodically, the overwhelming magical artillery combined with the lethal, unyielding steel of the two women began to break the coven's line.
Aeloria drove the Black Prism through the chest of the final vampire, the holy and thermal enchantments violently burning the creature from the inside out until it collapsed into a pile of smoking ash.
The cavern fell suddenly, blessedly silent, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of the three warriors.
Jenassa was bleeding from a shallow cut on her thigh, her leather armor sliced. Aeloria was clutching her bleeding upper arm, leaning heavily against the cavern wall. Aerion's left shoulder stung fiercely where the claws had breached his robes.
"Hold your positions," Aerion commanded softly, his breathing perfectly even despite the exertion.
He walked to the center of the room. He didn't pull a health potion from his void. He raised both of his hands, his palms glowing with a brilliant, soothing, intense golden light.
He tapped directly into the zenith of his Restoration magics.
A massive, radiating wave of pure, divine healing energy washed over the entire room, entirely enveloping Aeloria and Jenassa in a warm, golden aura.
The effect was instantaneous and completely miraculous. The deep, bleeding gash on Aeloria's arm closed in a matter of seconds, the skin knitting back together flawlessly without leaving a single scar. Jenassa's leg wound vanished completely. Aerion's own shoulder healed perfectly.
But it wasn't just the biological tissue that was restored.
Aeloria looked down at her arm in absolute shock. The studded leather of her Imperial cuirass, which had been cleanly sliced by the vampire's blade, was actively repairing itself. The leather seamlessly fused back together, the metal studs re aligning perfectly, as if the armor itself possessed a biological memory.
Aerion's torn dark robes knitted back together, leaving the fabric immaculate and whole.
"By the Eight..." Aeloria gasped, touching her fully repaired sleeve. "Aerion... standard healing spells only mend flesh. They do not repair steel and leather. How is this possible?"
Aerion simply offered a highly charismatic, deeply mysterious smile, fully utilizing the reality warping privileges of his system to cement her awe.
"I told you, Aeloria. I am a master of the arcane," Aerion replied smoothly. "You haven't seen anything yet."
Aerion recognized that the depth of the cavern and the sheer difficulty of the enemies required immediate logistical reinforcement. He needed his Magicka reserves completely topped off for the next engagement, and Aeloria needed a weapon of her own.
He stood perfectly still, engaging his digital interface.
The golden text flashed in his mind.
[Item Retrieved: Glass Sword]
[Item Retrieved: Potion of Minor Magicka x3]
[Inventory Weight Decreased by 6.70 KG. Current Max Weight: 68.62 / 525 KG]
With a sudden, rippling shimmer of displaced light, the items materialized directly out of thin air into Aerion's empty hands.
In his left hand, he held three small, glowing blue glass vials. In his right hand, he held a breathtakingly beautiful weapon. It was a perfectly balanced sword forged from refined malachite, its razor sharp edges gleaming with a translucent, emerald green brilliance in the dim light.
Aeloria's jaw literally dropped open. She stared at the objects that had simply popped into existence from absolute nothingness.
Aerion walked over, extending the malachite blade toward her.
"A masterwork Glass Sword," Aerion presented it smoothly. "Significantly lighter than the ebony, yet it possesses a vastly superior cutting edge to your standard Imperial steel. It will serve you flawlessly in the dark."
Aeloria numbly traded the heavy Black Prism back to Aerion, taking the magnificent green blade. The balance was absolutely perfect in her hand.
"Aerion... where did you pull this from?" Aeloria asked, completely bewildered. "You don't have a pack. It just... appeared."
Before Aerion could formulate a suitably mysterious lie, Jenassa stepped forward, resting her Frost Steel Sword on her shoulder. The Dark Elf assassin offered the Nord a knowing, slightly amused smirk.
"Do not strain your mind trying to understand it, Aeloria," Jenassa advised her, casually explaining the impossible. "The Patron possesses a highly specialized, deeply esoteric form of spatial magic. He carries a pocket dimension bound to his very soul. That is where our expedition supplies are currently resting, along with an space that could keep many valuable items."
Aeloria looked from the gleaming Glass Sword to the High Elf, her absolute shock slowly transforming into a massive, booming laugh of pure, jovial amazement.
"That is... that is absolutely incredible!" Aeloria grinned, shaking her head in awe. "No wonder you can travel the length of Tamriel without a single pack mule! You are a walking chest, Aerion!"
Aerion offered a modest nod, popping the corks off the three Minor Magicka potions with his thumb.
"We can discuss the nuances of my spatial vault when the coven is dead," Aerion stated pragmatically.
He drank the three glowing blue vials in rapid succession. The cool, arcane liquid flooded his system, instantly and completely refilling his massive Magicka reserves, priming his magical artillery for the next breach.
"Focus your minds," Aerion commanded, tossing the empty vials aside. "We press forward."
They continued their stealthy advance, moving deeper into the twisting, dark bowels of the cavern system.
They turned a sharp left, navigating a narrow stone corridor that sloped downward. As they descended, a foul, utterly horrific stench began to permeate the damp air. It was a thick, gag inducing smell, a sickly sweet combination of rotting meat, old copper, and a deeply unnatural, fishy odor of stagnant blood.
They rounded the final corner, emerging onto a high stone ledge overlooking a massive, sunken cavern.
The sight below was an absolute nightmare of depravity.
This was the logistical heart of Movarth's blood farm. The cavern floor was littered with several massive, deep pits dug directly into the stone.
The pits were overflowing with pale, drained corpses, dozens of missing citizens from Morthal and the surrounding holds, discarded like refuse. Scattered around the perimeter were several wooden handcarts, piled high with bloody bones and chunks of harvested meat that were still sickeningly attached to the sinew.
Aeloria immediately slapped a hand over her mouth and nose, her eyes watering violently as her stomach heaved against the overwhelming stench of the charnel house. Jenassa's face paled beneath her ash gray skin, her jaw tightening in pure, professional disgust.
Aerion's biological High Elf body reacted instinctively to the horrific stimuli. A massive, violent wave of nausea surged up his throat, his stomach violently clenching as the urge to vomit practically overwhelmed his senses.
But before he could retch, a brilliant, golden flash of logic flared within his transmigrator consciousness.
[Mental Resistance (MAX LEVEL) Automatically Engaged.]
[Biological Nausea Override Successful.]
The violently sick, dizzying sensation instantly, miraculously vanished from Aerion's body. The horrible smell remained, but his biological reaction to it was completely severed. His mind reasserted absolute, cold, terrifying clarity, replacing the urge to vomit with a deep, calculating, righteous disgust.
He stepped to the absolute edge of the stone ledge, looking down at the massive workforce operating below.
The cavern was teeming with enemies. There were easily over a dozen human thralls mindlessly hauling the bloody carts, supervised by at least eight heavily armored, pureblood vampires who were casually lounging near the gore pits, drinking from silver goblets.
The numbers were staggering. If they attempted a standard melee engagement, Aeloria and Jenassa would be entirely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attacks within seconds.
Aerion's golden eyes narrowed into slits of pure, lethal intent. He didn't bother issuing a warning or coordinating a stealth strike. He needed to violently thin the herd before the melee combatants engaged.
He raised his hands over the ledge, looking at the massive cluster of monsters.
He tapped into his fully replenished Magicka pool, dialing the output to absolute maximum capacity, Incinerate and Grand Purification. "Let them burn," Aerion whispered coldly. Dual, massive spheres of superheated plasma and blinding holy light erupted from his palms, illuminating the entire charnel cavern in terrifying brilliance as the High Elf rained absolute, apocalyptic artillery down upon the blood farm.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 440/440 Stamina: 450/450 Magicka: 620/620
Level: 111
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 85/41/MAX), Restoration (Healing/Purify(+1)) (Level 91/71), Alteration (Level 35), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/10), Persuasion(+1) (Level 60), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 48), One Handed (MAX Level), Two Handed (Level 81), 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, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Garnet, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), & Potion of Minor Magicka
2x Potion Of Ultimate Magicka, Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), & Elven Sword
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
4x Spider Eggs & Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
8x Iron Arrows, Ancient Nord Arrows, & Black Soul Gems (Filled)
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 68.62 KG / 525 KG
Septims: 77,093