Tamriel: Deadric Reawakening
Chapter 1 - Skyrim: 3000 Years Later
3000 Years after the death of the last Dovhahkin, Skyrim is at peace. Dwemer technology has been rediscovered and is known as Magnatek. It is used to power flying ships, electronics and other devices. If one didn't know better, they could mistake Skyrim as a more civilized and advanced version of earth itself. It had also gained links to multiple words by this time. However, this could not have come about with the help of some very unorthodox experiments, which are now kept in the deepest vaults of the Grandinimus, the renamed city of Stormwind.
However, beneath the darkest depths of the city, a tale of darkness long hidden is kept from the public. At tale that if unraveled, could destroy the very fabric of what their society was built upon... The Legacy of the Dragonborn.
"So...," the black-cloaked figure spoke in a monotone, chipmunk whisper, "You're sure this is the only way we can revive the world-eater after his spirit was destroyed by Taloria?"
Slamming the map upon the glass table, the red-cloaked figure replied with a droning, robotic tone, "Yes... but it will not be without consequences. Reviving a soul causes all manner of complications. All that will remain the same is his power. He will have a new mind, new personality, and possibly a new body. It all depends on what Akatosh wants. There is no Alduin anymore. Merely raw, untapped magical energy."
With a huff, the blue cloaked figure drew a green-tinted, smoke-covered pistol from its buckle, his voice a distorted growl, "I can't wait to drench Veronica in some royal guard blood."
"What about me...?" the yellow-cloaked figure spoke in a mid-pitched, British accented voice, void of any tone manipulation.
A shuffling was heard from the corner of the room, a white-cloaked figure emerging with his hands behind its back. Behind the hood were two golden eyes which shone like the morning sun.
Approaching the three in a stride fit for a ghost, the figure pulled two crucifix-shaped swords from its belt, gleaming yellow light streaming from the blades.
"Mind if I butt in, you bloody little heathens...?" The figure's tone was light and tenor, Irish-accented and quite masculine, "I bet the good lord Talos would like me to be puttin' some reports of arse-whoppin' in my confessional from time to time, eh?"
The figures turned, only to have the door burst open, revealing hundreds of mages and familiars surrounding the temple.
"Shit... we've been found out..." This was from the black-robed figure, who quickly disappeared from the physical plane.
"Motherfucker..!" The red-cloaked figure's words came moments before his head was decimated by a firebolt, his flesh searing from his body leaving nothing but a charred skull.
The blue-cloaked figure was impaled on an ice spike which sent his lifeless body crashing against the dark, limestone wall before he spoke a word, the blood and organs around the wound frozen over by subzero temperatures.
"M-mercy..." The only word the yellow-cloaked figure managed to choke out was met with a dart to his neck, causing him to fall to the floor, unconscious, but living.
"So... what do we do with him, Master Tartarus...?"
"Hmm... his soul is not corrupt. Apparently he joined because he was curious about the forbidden arcane."
"What do we do with the oh-so-idiotically-named Soul-Retrieval Gem?"
"We use it as they intended."
"What!?"
"I have gained word from Taloria that it would be the best course of action."
"So who do we use it on, the Dragonborn?"
"No... we use a copy spell first, then use it to revive Alduin."
"What about the Dragonborn?"
"He is too corrupt. If we were to use it without a purifying ritual, he would wreak havoc on us all."
"So... what do we do with him?"
"We put him in charge of Alduin..."
"What?"
"That is the message I have received. We are in for dark times ahead, and the best thing for us is to have as many powerful beings on our side as we can."
"Well... okay... but why him?"
"He is more than you know... he is the last remaining one of the Dragoborn's descendants."
"But don't we live in peace with the Dov now?"
"Yes... we do. And it is for that is the very reason he must become our asset. We cannot neutralize our greatest tool to fight the new Nine Daedric Prinices."
"So... how do we go about resurrecting Alduin?"
"First, we need that black dragon's caretaker to come back from la-la land."
"Grant! When did you get back?"
"Oh, I've been back..."
"So the little heathen is gonna' be Alduin's guardian, then, is he?"
"Yes... and apparently he'll have his work cut out for him, especially if what Archmage Xander said is true..."
"What would that be, now?"
"...According to him... Alduin the World-Eating Dragon... is gonna' be Alicia the Whirl-Winding Dragoon... ess..."
"So basically..."
"Yes..."
"Alduin is going to be..."
"Yes..."
"Humanoid... and female... and... ...Grant... PLEASE tell me her instincts will be at least SOMEWHAT human!"
"Never got that information. Best prepare yourself for a wild and crazy chick."
"You know what? Fuck this shit, I'm out. I'm asking for a transfer to the Cyrodil Mage's Guild next paycheck."
"Your call, Rex. All I know is I'm going to record every single..."
"Grant, if you do that you'd better be prepared for some serious fire up your ass... literally and figuratively."
"Geez, you really ought to watch yer' tone and way o'speakin' before a man of the Divines, ya' heathen."
"Yeah, and I almost didn't recognize you without little Timmy's head glued to your crotch."
"What the bloody hell are you talkin' about!?"
"I saw Hellsing Abridged and I needed to make a joke based on it."
"Ugh... ya' make me sick with your bloody debautcherous taste in media."
"Ugh... where am I?"
"Oh, you're up..."