Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in the Skyrim universe, or anything else, this is purely a fan-made fiction for fun. Please Review and enjoy!
Vulom couldn't remember the last time he had so much delightful anticipation. After centuries of waiting, his time was finally coming. His spirit which lay chained by spectral bonds inside the coffin wiggled in glee. He grinned as he sensed the last remnants of his bones being gathered from the castle. "Now...bring them to me, adventurer, and thou shalt have thy reward!" he intoned in an epic and disembodied voice. The archaic speech was mainly just for showmanship. Once the incredibly stupid adventurer returned with his bones, he would be able to break the chains, and rise up once more as Vulom the Master of all Dragonpriests. Vulom grinned evilly. As soon as he was risen, he would give the adventurer their reward: a quick and spectacular death. Then he would bring that stupid pathetic dragon that lived under the mountain of Wyrmstooth under his heel. Then he would travel to Skyrim and enslave the rest of the dragonpriests and dragons and place them under his will. It would be easy, for he was the only dragonpriest that knew the most ancient and incredibly powerful master level spells like firestorm and blizzard, they would bow to him or die incredibly quickly. Vulom smirked again as he sensed the adventurer rapidly coming his way, the promise of the treasure no doubt speeding them along. He yawned, wondering briefly which spell to test out first.
Vulom heard the steady stamp of feet outside his coffin, and then the adventurer tossed his bones rudely down upon top the coffin. "HEY, easy there," he called wrathfully "It IS bad manners to just throw someone's bones down on the ground." A muffled curse, and then a voice called out contritely "Sorry!" the muffled voice continued "Sooooo….what do I do now?" Vulom sighed, well it appeared the adventurer wasn't too bright, this wasn't going to be much fun after all. "You have to put my bones inside my coffin you imbecile, I can't give you my reward until you deliver them into the coffin, I'm quite sure I already made this clear numerous times before." He heard a guilty shuffling, then the muffled voice "...Sorry, I just have a lot of things to do and I forgot, give me a sec."
Vulom heard a groan, then the coffin lid began to slide off. A face, too dark to be seen in the shadows, leaned over the coffin as the figure gently placed the bones inside the coffin. Then the figure stood back and waited.
Vulom grinned, feeling his power returning. Ah yes, this was going to be highly enjoyable. He felt the energy swirling around him, bluish light began to explode from within the coffin as the ancient magic worked on resurrecting his bones and knit his spirit to them. Vulom felt an extra good show was in order for the adventurer to witness such an event as his raising, so he caused extra creepy shadows to dance along the cave walls, and the old braziers to flare to life with blue and green fire. A few ghosts flitted around fitfully. Dramatically his skeleton (clad in an ancient shredded dragon priest outfit thanks to those stupid skeevers) rose up from the coffin, floating in air. Vulom lifted his hand towards a crack in the cave wall opposite of him, and with a burst of rocks, a large ornate staff flew out and into his hands, gleaming as he caught it. He briefly checked the soul counter before turning imposingly towards the adventurer who had been standing there this whole time.
Vulom stared at the adventurer with a little bit of disgust. He couldn't see their face, as it was shrouded in some sort of hood that looked like it belonged to the Thieves Guild, and the rest of the adventurers body was covered in mismatching armor: plate-body made of glass, with iron plate-legs, ebony bracers, and leather boots. Vulom sensed a few crappy enchantments as well; a pitiful +7% magical resistance spell adorned the boots as if the adventurer had tried to personally enchant them. Vulom snorted barely holding back his laughter.
"Well?" The adventurer impatiently stomped their foot. "I'd like my reward now please, it wasn't exactly the easiest thing in the world to retrieve old moldy bones...I had to rescue your skull from some nasty vampires that were using it for a weird chalice. Ugh." The adventurer shuddered in disgust. Vulom glared, annoyed. He didn't want to think about the travesty that the rest of his bones had underwent throughout the ages. He remembered the last time he had been revived he discovered some wizened old altmer mage trying to resurrect just his hand in order to have it clean his abode like a common household maid. That mage had very quickly (and permanently) learned his error after Vulom choked him, and then resurrected him to be his butler for a few hundred years until he fell afoul of that band of raiding falmer while searching for some nightshade.
Vulom sighed then looked down at the adventurer before him. "YOU HAVE DONE WELL" he boomed in his loudest voice, "NOW I SHALL…"
"STOP YELLING AT ME I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE" the adventurer yelled angrily, interrupting Vulom. "And by the divines, get to the point already, I'm sick of this creepy cave, I'm cold and wet, and I'm tired of talking to...weird dead things."
Vulom was gobsmacked. His skeleton jaw hung open. How dare this pitiful adventurer push him, the great Vulom, he was the great and terribly awesome dragon priest! Had they any clue as to just how powerful and might he was? Apparently not, but this scrawny piece of human flesh was just about to find out. Vulom collected himself and then very calmly faced the adventurer, a small smile on what was left of his face.
"Very well, here's your reward...a quick death." The adventurer stiffened, then spoke "Hey that's not a rewa…" Vulom conjured up an incinerate spell in his free hand and lobbed it while simultaneously casting firestorm around him. The adventurer disappeared as they were flung roughly backwards...through the cave wall. A crater sized hole was left behind, as the whole cave shook and some rocks crumbled down. Vulom grinned, oh he still had it. He couldn't wait to see the look on Hevnoraak's smug face when he returned to Skyrim and beat him into the ground with his magic.
A sudden stirring, and much groaning and cursing came from the hole in the wall. Vulom glanced over mildly surprised. He hadn't expected the human to survive. Oh well he would just have to fix that. Vulom floated closer to the hole and peered inside. He couldn't really see far in, as it was dark, but he was able to make out a figure at least 50 feet inside the hole. He grinned evilly.
Vulom gathered his magika, and then rapid fired off 17 incinerate spells and twice as many fireballs into the hole. Blowing the smoke off his skeletal fingers, he turned away and began to think about his plan for dealing with the dragon. He thought about walking down the long labyrinth of caves until he reached the dragon, who would be a fear dribbling idiot by then, or he could just teleport there and combust him. The teleport option sounded better, plus he didn't really feel like having the hordes of dragur fawning over him. The dragur deathlords could really go over the top sometimes in their attempt to impress him with their strength. Also they were touchy as hell. As in they hated being touched. Which is why it was frustrating traversing the crypt dungeons sometimes because as soon as all the deathlords knew he was there, they came running. And then they would start brandishing their weapons, showing off their limited power, and then start killing each other because one of them had oh so "accidentally" bumped into another deathlord and started them all on a rampage against each other trying to impress him. Vulom usually had to keep them separated, unless there was a common enemy they could kill.
Vulom suddenly felt himself hurled forward as he barely managed to avoid being smashed into the wall, the echos of dragon language still in the air. Vulom turned around and then winced at the sight.
A very angry woman stood in the archway, her hood completely seared off revealing her blonde hair and slightly sooty face. Vulom wasn't sure how her hair hadn't been completely burned off (in fact it wasn't even touched), but her eyebrows however were completely singed off. Her brown eyes stormily gazed across the space at him. Her armor hadn't fared much better than her hood, and while still covering her, had clearly melted and fused itself together in a mismatch of colored ore. Vulom would have laughed at the sight if it wasn't for the very worrying fact that she was still alive and looking quite healthy and very angry even after everything he had thrown at her.
Before Vulom could act or say anything in his defense, the woman moved. Gripping her hands together tightly, she suddenly shot a large continuous blast of concentrated lightning. Vulom just barely dodged out of the way as the entire cave wall where he had been standing lit up with powerful magic. "Yikes" Vulom thought. He quickly casted a raise dead spell, causing several dragur deathlords to raise up to buy him some time. He then teleported to the other side of the room as the deathlords charged the woman. "FEIM ZIL GRON" the woman roared, and then Vulom sensed what she was going to do and tried to catch the semi-stupid deathlords attention. "Mov.." He was interrupted by a large fiery blast as the deathlords were consumed by an explosive firestorm. Just great. Of course this dragon speaking woman would just happen to know master level spells as well. This was turning into one of Vaermina's nightmares. Vulom lobbed a thunderbolt, and incinerate spell after incinerate spell and teleported rapidly around the room. The woman retaliated by casting particularly strong spells at him that shook the cave everytime they hit the wall. Vulom winced. At this rate the cave was likely going to collapse before he killed her. He was going to have to thrall her after she was dead, she would be a good assistant for him.
Vulom came out of his teleport and suddenly tripped over the pile of extra dead deathlords (say that 5 times fast) landing unceremoniously on his face, his staff clattered out of his hand. He glanced over his shoulder and was met to the face with a Lightning Storm spell. Vulom shrieked in agony as his bones began to disintegrate under the powerful spell. He glanced at the adventurer who was a complete picture of heroic beauty; her blond hair hanging down from her sooty face and her completely destroyed armor fused around her like some drunk daedra blacksmith had come up with a new design. Vulom cursed to himself as a familiar blackness of the void closed around him, but not before sticking his spectral tongue out at the adventurer.