Chapter One: A Brand New Adventure
Vorald was home. He hadn't been to Skyrim in years, and he had genuinely missed the beauty of the land. The Nord gazed across the southern forests of his homeland, taking in everything, the sound of the birds chirping, the sunlight reflecting off a distant lake, the trees swaying in the breeze, and the frigid chill permeating the air. As he walked across the road that would eventually take him out of the southern mountain ranges and into Falkreath Hold, he almost absorbed the feel of the forests, completely taken with their natural beauty like he was as a child.
Around midday, Vorald found himself in a clearing, ready to break for a noon meal and a much needed rest. As he sat against a tree, facing away from the clearing, he heard someone muttering to themself, drawing closer. Eventually the voice stopped in the middle of the clearing, but Vorald's back was still turned to the woman.
"Gods, it is so cold here! Why didn't anyone warn me that it would be cold in Skyrim? I should have Haskill quartered for his negligence. I'm going to need to make myself a fire first, then maybe I can kill some fluffy bunnies. That usually makes me warm and fuzzy, so it should make the cold go away. And fire! Double banish cold. Oh, and if I cook the bunny, I can get rid of the irrational hunger that shouldn't even exist right now. And it'll be warm. Even more getting rid of cold! Yes, the only question now is whether or not it will be enough to make me warm, or only slightly less cold. And then I-"
"Really? You didn't know it would be cold in Skyrim?! There are songs written about how cold it is here. The cold is legendary." He interjected into her little tirade. Partly because he wanted to know why she came to Skyrim, and partly because he didn't think she'd shut up unless he interrupted.
"Oh! Hello there! It's not nice to surprise people, most people who do that to me end up dead. But you seem all right so I'll let you live. For now. Anyways, come out where I can see you. Please?" Vorald did as she asked and stepped into the center of the clearing, albeit with one hnd on the hilt of his battleax. She was an Imperial woman clad in daedric armor with a daedric bow slung across her chest. She appeared to be five feet, ten inches, and didn't look like she was capable of carrying the armor she wore. She had a dagger strapped to her thigh, and a peculiar looking walking stick lying on the ground near her. She had midnight black, shoulder length hair, which was braided to keep it from falling into her face. However, the strangest thing about this woman was that her eyes, mostly a bright green color, had golden streaks running through the iris, and the pupil itself seemed to glow with a white light. 'What in Oblivion?' Vorald thought, but just as quickly as they made eye contact, the glow vanished.
"Anyways, in answer to your question, yes, I did know it would be cold here. I just didn't imagine it would be this bad. Seriously, how do people even live here?"
"Hmph. Bloody Imperials. If you think this is bad you should see what it's like in Winterhold or the Pale."
She made a very sour face, "You mean there are places in Tamriel which are colder than here? Damnit! Oh and I'll try not to take offense to that comment about my race."
Vorald at least managed to appear sheepish, "Sorry, I didn't even think about what I was saying before I stuck my foot in my mouth. And yes, these places are much, much colder. As in, 'never-ending-winter' cold. As in, 'even-the-Nords-hate-it' cold."
She looked up at him, "Ah, fuck. That really blows." She looked over his shoulder, and immediately whipped out her bow, drew an arrow, and shot in Vorald's direction in one fluid motion. However, she hadn't even touched him. When he got his heart rate under control, he turned around to see her kneeling in the ground next to a newly dead rabbit, skinning it. Vorald noticed that she had shot the rabbit clean through the eye socket, and even through his rising anger was able to feel a deep level of respect for this mysterious woman. Then the anger of nearly being impaled returned.
"What in Oblivion was that?! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME!" Vorald unconsciously began drawing his battleax.
"Except I didn't. I'd advise you to put the weapon down before I have to kill you. It would be such a damn shame if you died right here. Besides, you should be thanking me, now we can have some fluffy bunny stew."
"We?"
"Yes. I like you. And I'm on vacation. And vacation is no fun unless you spend it with exciting people going off on adventures. I'm still hoping to see a dragon at some point."
"You're insane."
She surprised him by rearing back and laughing. A pure, unrestrained laugh born of genuine amusement. When her giggling subsided, she picked up the skinned rabbit, turned to face him, and built a small fire which she lit with magic. She began roasting the rabbit. Throughout this whole process she continued speaking with him. "Right. I'm insane. The sky is blue. Trolls are generally angry because nobody loves them. And dremora are whiny little bitches with a secret love of ballet. What else is new?"
"At any rate, dragons are extinct, and I hear you have to go to Akavir to even hope to find one. There are certainly no dragons in Skyrim, there haven't been for several eras." Vorald informed her.
"As far as anybody knows."
"Please don't tempt fate."
She mock gasped, "I wouldn't be the one doing the tempting. By the way, I don't believe I ever caught your name."
"No. You didn't."
"Oh come on! Don't be a little bitch about it."
He snorted, "Vorald. Speaking of which, why do you assume I'm exciting? We've only just met."
"You have a destiny, more than that, I can't say, although there will be plenty of hints. How do you think the world would taste? Oh, you can call me Cassandra. However, I find that name horribly dull on occasion, I prefer the Lord Prince of Darkness. Wait, Nocturnal might be upset if I use that title. Uhhhmmmm…. Oh! I got it! Lord Prince of Cheeses! Yes, much better. You may refer to me as the Lord of Cheese."
"Right, so, Cassandra."
She sighed, "Very well, you may call me Cassandra."
"I'm not so sure this is a good idea, you following me. I have a feeling you'll drive me crazy."
"And what's wrong with a little crazy? It'll be good for you. And you don't exactly have a choice. Besides, you need my help to survive the coming shitstorm. Oh! The fluffy bunny is done, want a bite?"
Vorald considered the pros and cons before he heaved a massive sigh and took the food from her. "I'm probably going to regret this later. Very well. You can travel with me."
They returned to the road in a few minutes. For the rest of the day Cassandra droned on and on, unceasingly. She wasn't even really trying to engage Vorald in conversation, just fill the empty space. They reached a new clearing a short time before sunset, and Vorald set the camp while Cassandra said something about "Going out to kill some innocent woodland critter for us to eat. Be back soon!" As he sat in front of the campfire, he thought about the woman he'd met, and her several warnings of something bad coming soon. Somehow, he didn't doubt she was telling the truth, and it filled him with a dread that kept him from being able to relax. He heard something moving through the treeline, and picked up his axe, but it turned out to just be Cassandra carrying a few rabbits.
"I couldn't find anything bigger. Sorry."
"Listen, I've been meaning to ask you what you meant earlier by all of your warnings."
"Can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"It would piss off a lot of people much more powerful than I am. Well, one people. But that's irrelevant. Still can't help you. You'll have to wait a few days to find out."
Vorald sighed heavily. He'd had a feeling it wouldn't have worked but there was always that hope, and now he just felt weary and weighed down by the specter of the knowledge. "After I eat I think I'm going to turn in. Can you take first watch?"
"I can take both watches, if you want."
"I can't possibly ask you to sacrifice your sleep."
"It's fine, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway."
"No, it would be stupid to have you potentially fall asleep during your watch, and definitely be dog tired for the next day with no sleep.
The corner of her lip quirked upwards. "I haven't slept in a month Vorald. Really, I don't need sleep, it's no trouble at all. Or maybe it was an hour? My memory gets horribly fuzzy sometimes."
"Good Gods woman! A month! What are you made of to stay alert uninterrupted for that long!" For some reason Cassandra found this statement to be unbelievably funny. She burst out into raucous, uproarious laughter and fell off the seat she'd taken on a nearby log and began rolling around in the dirt. Vorald was confused, and slightly upset. "What, was it something I said?" Amazingly, this made her laugh even harder, and she started rolling around faster. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably closer to five minutes, her laughter subsided, and she got up. "Yes Vorald, it was something you said." This brought her into a new fit of giggles.
Vorald sighed, he seemed to be doing that a lot around her, and got up. He walked over to his tent and shot a rude gesture in her direction before calling out goodnight. Yet he couldn't get to sleep easily, the sense of dread never leaving him.
A/N
This is my first fanfiction I've written. Bear with me, it's probably less than amazing in many areas, but I really hope that all of you actually enjoy it and that my narration style isn't too annoying/boring, as I tend to gloss over events that aren't dialogue with minimal description. I'll try to work on it.
Anyways, I need to make a couple shout outs to J. Applegate and FirenIce 15, and their respective stories The Nerevarine Returns and Through the Portal. I'll be borrowing many of the abilities of Through the Portal's Sheogorath for mine, and the idea for a few of my OCs come from The Nerevarine Returns. Granted, my characters are definitely my own, and I'm hoping to create an original plot that deviates from either of these two wonderful author's and barely clings to the canon itself. Speaking of which, I have a ton of OCs. The characters are set up like a Dragon Age-esque style eclectic band of highly skilled warriors from across Tamriel with a wide variety of talents. Furthermore, none of my OC's except for Cassandra and Vorald are from the games. I know The Listener, The Guildmaster, The Arch-Mage, The Harbinger, and the Dragonborn traveling together make a good story, or at least a few of them getting involved, but I don't want to do that. I started writing this story because Cassandra got in my head and begged to be written, but I decided that if I was going to do it that there needed to be more people to their team than just these two, and then I decided that if I was going to bring in more characters that they would have to be very unique, from each other and from what other people have done, for my own sense of individuality. I know that sounds hypocritical as this is fanfiction, but it really would feel wrong if I did something I saw somewhere else, like plagiarism almost, in my subconscious opinion. I also now have a variety of perspectives to call upon, and nearly endless conversation starters from one person wanting to know more about another, kind of in the spirit of the Dragon Age party banter.
Anyways, here's what happened in each guild before the events of the story occurred. Karliah has her revenge but the Guild recruit has been killed at Mercer's hand, leaving Brynjolf as Guildmaster and space for a new nightingale. The Guild has been restored to Nocturnal's favor and is on the rise. The Dark Brotherhood has been culled, but Nazir, The Listener, and Babette have relocated to Dawnstar. There they have taken several recruits and have become a force to be reckoned with in Skyrim, spreading across Tamriel again very slowly. The Listener and the new Black Hand are untouchable, and hidden, even from the Brotherhood itself, so well that none of the characters will ever deal with him, or meet him. The College of Winterhold has found the Eye of Magnus, but the person at the center of the events got bored and left Skyrim to study and practice foreign magic. The Circle has found the cure to lycanthropy, but they have chosen to embrace the beast. Everyone is given the choice of becoming a werewolf when joining the Circle, and if they refuse or if they take the cure they become a veteran companion, free of the Beast. No new companion filling the pc's place in the Circle at all. The Dawnguard has destroyed Harkon, but other vampire lords created by Harkon are still out there.
One more thing, I never actually played Oblivion, so there won't be any kind of flashbacks. Also, this will be covered in exposition in far more detail, but Cassandra never rose through the ranks of any of the Guilds while the Champion of Cyrodiil, mainly so I don't have to worry about planning a confrontation between the Night Mother and her wayward Listener, or the return of the Gray Fox to a greatly diminished guild, etc.