Author's Note: Be welcome, wanderers, to this first story of this humble writer wannabe. I had the idea for this tale while discussing 'what ifs' with a bunch of neckbeards on a basement over a wargame, whom happen to be some of my dearest friends; on it, we explore the possibilities that a bunch of tamrielians could bring to a war-torn Westeros in the later stages of the War of the Five Kings, but we will have time to explore the land they left behind as well as to follow the whereabouts of a certain silver haired queen across the sea. The events of the story begin in the year 300 AC (Westerosi calendar) and in 4E, 203 (Tamrielic calendar) and follow the events of A Dance with Dragons (for AsoiaF) and The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

For Sovngarde!

The Dark Chronist

Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls franchise nor A Song of Ice and Fire, each belonging to Bethesda Softworks and George R. R. Martin respectively. All characters, places and events other than those of my own invention are their intellectual property.

Prologue

The Kamal's head hit the snow with a soft thud, its body following soon after. The nord warrior whipped the excess of cold blood out of his blade, sat on a crate leaning on his greatsword and scanned lazily the battlefield. Most of the almost five hundred snow demons that had attacked their beachside camp laid dead or dying, the later being quickly dispatched by his companions. He watched a nord and an orsimer smashing a demon into pulp with their warhammers while booming with laughter, while a few meters to their right a shieldwall of imperial, reguard and dunmer soldiers steadily pushed back a pack of surviving kamal warriors, supported by Telvanni wizards. The nord nodded his head in approval and closed his eyes while catching his breath, for he had slayed more foes than anyone else.

It had been like that for the past four weeks. Since they had started exploring the northern shore of Akavir as part of their expedition, they had faced numerous small groups of snow demons. According to the few reliable reports one could find in Tamriel regarding the Kamal, the fiends were supposed to be asleep on summer, awakening only on the crude of winter.

'Well, those ones seemed pretty awake', he thought bitterly.

His main advisor, Kareena, assured him that those were probably scouts left non dormant to protect the lairs of their brethren from any intruders that could catch the main forces unaware and undefended. Made sense, since the few first groups hadn't been more than a few dozens in numbers. That had been a month and a half ago. Now, they had faced several groups that could be counted by the hundreds, which suggested that the guardians had decided to awake their kin to deal with the threat their expedition posed. Not that it bothered him; they could deal with them with ease. But alas, they were put into a tight spot by a very large horde of a couple thousand enemies not four days ago. The overwhelming numbers of the horde had forced them to fall back to their ships and retreat from the shores to catch their breath and tend to the worse wounds, but it wasn't long before the tamrielic forces disembarked again raining arrows and destruction on the already thinned lines of snow demons, that crumbled completely under the charge of the armor clad berserkers. By dusk, the snow glowed under the sunset light covered on the cold blood of the Kamal.

Their task, regularly interrupted by the attacks, was going terribly wrong. They had already explored most of the northern and western shores of the continent in the six months since their departure from Windhelm, and there was still no trace of the Nerevarine ever being there. The scouting party he had sent two days ago under Derkeethus command was expected to arrive before sunset, yet there was no sign of them so far.

The nord shook his head and faced up to the cloudy sunset sky, snowflakes dropping lazily into his closed eyelids, melting upon contact. He loved the quietness that came after the battle, during the tending of wounds and loot of the dead. He could just enjoy the freezing breeze and the sound of the waves hitting the shore while others were busy around him.

Just then, the sound of distant shouting drew his attention to the beach, where a large row boat came ashore and a young imperial clad in chainmail and furs jumped from it and came running to where he sat and dropped to a knee, bowing his head with a fist to his chest. The nord identified him as Marcus, one of the men of the scouting party.

"My Jarl, Captain Derkeethus sends me. We found something at a creek to the east that you must see." said the man after looking up again.

The nord nodded and stood up, stretching his muscles.

"How far?"

"No more than a couple hours to the east with full sails, if the Divines allow so. But the coast around the area is rough and dotted with rocks. We had to stay off shore with the boat while the captain and the other argonians swam to the bay to explore. It would be wise to anchor off shore and follow the captain's example by swimming."

The nord nodded again and motioned the smaller man to stand, which he did. Even standing at his full height, the imperial was dwarfed by the huge nord, who towered among his kin, standing even above some altmer.

"Get something to eat and rest for the night. We sail at dawn, and you will be our guide."

The man nodded vigorously before hitting his chest with a fist and bowing his head again, then leaving for the grounded Alduin's Fang, the flagship that served as headquarters of the camp. The nord's eyes trailed after him, to then spot Kareena leaning on the ship's rail. Pulling his greatsword out from the snow and sliding it on her scabbard at his back, the huge man walked to join her aboard.

"Archmage Alemone." saluted the nord as he reached her.

"Jarl Stormblade." acknowledged the breton without looking off the mass of Kamal corpses and tired tamrielic forces. "That was quite a skirmish. If we keep suffering those attacks we might need to return to Tamriel to get reinforcements.''

"No need." declared the nord with a nonchalant shrug. "At this point I'm beginning to doubt that the Nerevarine ever made it to Akavir. Maybe his ship sunk before getting here and we're just wasting resources and time chasing a legend."

"Absolutely not." declared the mage with a dismissive gesture. "You have studied his life as much as I've done; you know that he had plenty of resources to get to Akavir even without a ship. Maybe Derkeethus' discover is the trace we were looking for."

The man's lips curved up on a slight smile.

"It's rude to eavesdrop, my lady. More so by magical means."

The dark haired woman chuckled and turned her face to look at him, her inky locks cascading around her pale face.

"Actually, that young man, Marcus, filled me up on his way to the kitchen." She punctued her statement with a nod of her head on the direction of the door to the first deck. "We are leaving tomorrow, I assume?"

"Yes. The men need the rest, and it's unwise to sail unknown, frozen waters at night. I'll inform Torsten now and organize the watch shifts for the night. Be nice and fetch me some water walking scrolls, will you? I'll be taking you, Teldryn, Ghorbash, Serana and the twins."

''Oh my, what a colorful nice troupe we will be." she commented with evident sarcasm while rolling her eyes. The nord snorted with amusement. She hated everyone he had named except for Farkas, and that was because she had a soft spot for big, soft hearted dummies.

'Big, soft hearted dummies like me', he thought.

OOOO

Noon was still a few hours away by the time the three huge busse-like ships reached the point on the shore that Marcus guided them to. While the companions he had chosen for the trip were being instructed by the breton on how to use the scrolls (sans Serana and Teldryn, who already knew the spell), the nord gazed upon the creek that could be seen on the distance, past the rocks that protruded from the sea like the sharp fangs of a sabre cat. He could see a couple argonains standing vigilant at the tree line past the beach between the cliffs of the frigid shore. The cold blooded humanoids seemed to be faring surprisingly well for the gelid climate of Kamal, which left the nord at a loss of explanations. When he had asked Kareena about it, she just shrugged. 'I'm not even sure what is the biological reason for female argonians having breasts anyway', she had said.

"Harbinger, we are ready." announced Vilkas.

"Good. Let's go." commanded the nord jumping over the railing into the water.

His enchanted boots hit the water without eliciting no more than a slight ondulation on the surface, his companions following at once. He trotted to get to the shore before the spells of the rest of the party faded away, hitting the gravelly beach in less than a minute. He started walking up the side of the hill on wich the few frozen trees where the argonians were on guard stood, noting the lack of wildlife, avian or of any kind, that he had been accusing on Kamal since their arrival. The argonians stood firmly and saluted with a fist to their chests as the nordic Jarl and his party reached them.

"My lord Stormblade," saluted one holding a spear between the clawed gauntlets of his dark scaly armor, "captain Derkeethus awaits you inside."

The argonian pointed his free hand to a narrow crack between two large boulders some meters behind them, among the trees. The nord nodded his head and walked to it, being immediately followed by his party and the two argonians. As they reached it, the leader of the expedition noticed that the entrance wasn't as narrow as he had first thought, but still a bit too narrow for his taste and size. The argonians took positions at either side of him, keeping watch on the area while they explored the grotto. He entered first, motioning his companions to enter behind him. As darkness engulfed him, he got to catch a muttered comment by Serana.

"Another cave. Just fucking wonderful..."

OOOO

The cave opened up shortly after the entrance, but the darkness didn't diminish on the slightless. He casted a simple candlelight spell, being mimicked by Karina and Teldryn. Everyone kept their mouths shut, sans for Serana who couldn't quit commenting on the dampness, foul smell and thick air inside the tunnel. After some five minutes of constantly following the tunnel downhill, they finally saw some light ahead. The party casted down their candlelights and emerged into a wide chamber, easily five meters to the ceiling and extending around fifty square meters. The cavern was occupied by four argonians, three of them mousing around the chamber and one crouched near a large stone tablet at the far end of the chamber. On two neat rows at either side of the cave could be seen several mounds of stones intertwirled with weeds and thorns, some being scrutinized by the other argonians. From open cracks and holes on the ceiling of the chamber light spilled into the place casting golden beams, in which the dots of dust were clearly visible lazily floating around, as well as letting in some much needed fresh air.

Once the steps of the nord and his followers echoed into the chamber, all four humanoids stood at attention and saluted. The one that had been crouching crossed the cave on long strides and bowed his horned head to the nord.

"My Jarl, I thank you for your swift arrival. Please, come along".

As the group made their way to the far end of the chamber, Derkeethus updated them.

"You see, my Jarl, this discovery was purely coincidental. We were rowing along the shore looking for anything of interest to report when we felt… something. I wouldn't dare to try and explain it on a logical manner, for I am no scholar, but there was something on this creek that allured us, called us to come and see. We feared that it might be some foul magic, but that wizard fellow you sent with us for this scouting…"

"Marcurio."

"Indeed, him. He assured us that he couldn't feel anything foul or remotely magic -as far as the known magic goes- coming from here, but he could definitely feel the pull too, drawing us here. So I decided to come and investigate myself, and so I came, bringing my brothers along. That entrance up there was covered in ice of probably hundreds of years and hidden under the snow that covers this entire wretched realm, but for some reason we knew exactly where to dig. Once we had cleared the entrance, we ventured into the tunnel and found this chamber… and this."

They had reached the large stone tablet at the end of the chamber, and the argonian ranger waved his hand signaling the piece of rock. Along the side of the stone rested what seemed to be really old bones clad in greenish rust that could be remains of armor. Resting on the lichen, mold and moss covered rock laid a ruined and fragile piece of rusty iron (more rust than iron by now), also covered in moss, that in the past could have been a sword. A bit above the sword laid another ruined piece of metal, a metallic band covered on the green and white oxide of bronze and copper with small rusty dents protruding from it. The nord crouched near the stone and took the round band, examining it. It looked like a crown of sorts.

"There is an inscription on the stone, my Jarl." informed Derkeethus.

"An inscription?" Serana chimed in.

She too kneeled on the stone and scratched away some of the moss covering the spot where the crown had been placed. Indeed, there it was, some faint markings on the stone. She held her chin between her index and thumb while studying it, a frown appearing on her fair, ageless features. Kareena peeked over her shoulder, looking at it as well.

"Can you read it?" asked the breton archmage.

"No." The vampire shook her head putting her hands on her hips. "It reminds me of the old runes that the Atmorans used, but they were already forgotten when I was born, and I've never had the chance to study them"

"Well," said the younger woman with a grin getting into one knee and rubbing off more of the moss from the inscription "luckily for us you brought me along for this trip."

Just after finishing her sentence, though, her grin disappeared and was replaced by a frown.

"Well, this is odd. While I do know the old atmoran runes, and they indeed look like this, I must say that this script is unknown to me."

"Not that it matters." commented the nord with a shrug "It won't get us nowhere near the Nerevarine, and this tomb is too old to be his. I guess that our buddy here was some akavi-"

As he spoke those words, he cut himself mid sentence and looked straight at the inscription. He felt a sudden urge, something that drawn him into the stone, like the song of a mermaid. Extending a trembling hand, he slowly reached out for the stone. His companions called his name in concern, but he didn't hear them. Only the call flooded his mind now. Then, his fingertips made contact, and he blacked out.

OOOO

He found himself standing on a snowy field bathed on the golden sun of sunset, before a wooded hill. There was an unnatural stillness to the air, no breeze blowing, keeping falling leaves in mid air and the sun unmoving on the horizon, like when the monks from the Psijic Order had contacted him and Karina during the events regarding the Eye of Magnus three years before. He was walking straight up the hillside, unable to control his steps. The snow didn't crunch under his boots, nor did he leave any footprint. Again he was directed to a cleft on the rock of the hillside, between some trees with white bark and red leaves, with twisted faces carved on the trunks. He wasn't forced to walk anymore, but neither could he move his feet, frozen like a statue before the slit on the earth. Suddenly, he heard a loud caw and noticed a small figure perched in one of the lowest branches of the trees in front of him.

'A crow.' thought the nord nonchalantly. 'Wait, does it have three eyes?'

'That I do,' spoke a soft, shrill voice on his mind 'for I am the Three Eyed Crow.'

The nord narrowed his eyes to thin slits, scrutinizing the bird that pecked at the feathers of its wings absentmindedly.

'Is this a vision?'

'Does it feel like a vision?' asked the voice.

'It does. I've had quite a few.'

'It could very well be one, then.'

'How am I having this vision? It's because I touched the inscription?'

'Aye. "Here lies Brandon of House Stark, known as the Shipwright. Died on the second moon after our departure after a shipwreck along with his entire crew sans myself, Hugh Icewood, page to his Grace. But the monsters outside wounded me, and my end is near. May the Gods of Rivers and Forests have mercy upon us."'

'That's the inscription? What does it have to do with me?'

'It was written in the True Tongue.' said the crow, now fixing its three black, unblinking eyes on him. 'You see, runes of the First Men had power. A power now forgotten, but on its time it was unstoppable. Only the Children could sing the Song of Earth, but they taught men how to fuse the Tongue with the crude writing on metal and stone that they had brought with them from the East. The message is simple, but the True Tongue holds great power, and even the simplest text can held the power of the Song during ages; even through the millennia and the thousands of miles, I could feel the magic emanating from those scratches on the rock. From the rock… and from you.'

The warrior snorted with contempt.

'So this is what this is about? Lusting for my power? What do you want of me?'

'Ah, such cynicism…' the bird puffed up its feathers. 'I see that you have gone through much, child, things that made you see the world with contempt and defiance, that made you more powerful with each obstacle; yet your power is just starting to stir awake. The one who came before you was not as powerful, but he had time. Unlimited time, at that. And he exploited it.'

The nord frowned at this.

'What do you mean? Who came before me?'

'Who are you looking for?'

'The Nerevarine?'

'Are you asking me?' the crow almost sounded amused, tilting his head to a side.

'Where is he?!'

'Where you must go.'

The nord could tell that he was about to lose his temper.

'Cut the riddles.' demanded the warrior, balling his fists. 'Where do I have to go?'

'To the Land in the West. You are needed there. There is a great evil stirring in a land you have never known, and the one who came before you is already here, for he too is needed.'

'It's not my land. Why should I care?'

'I thought you sought this someone.'

'I do.'

'Well, there is your answer. The Land in the West, seeker. Sail to the East to reach the West, and sail soon, for Winter is Coming.' the crow seemed lost in thought for some moments, staring blankly to a distant point to the North. Then it focused its calm and powerful stare straight in his eyes again. 'But before you leave, you need to learn.'

'Learn what?'

The crow cawed, but in the nord's mind sounded a soft chuckle.

OOOO

The nord sprang awoke with a start, almost hitting the head of Kareena who kneeled at his side. All his companions surrounded him with concerned frowns on their faces, but as he woke they stepped back giving him some room.

"My Jarl, are you with us?" asked the breton, still kneeling by his side. "What happened?"

The nord rubbed his face with his gauntleted hand and whipped his gaze around the cavern, taking on his surroundings. He had collapsed along the length of the stony tomb and there was he still, feeling the softness of the bed of lichen and moss below him and the crunch of the broken piece of rust. After passing his gaze through all the faces of the men and women that surrounded him, he finally focused on the Breton archmage.

"I… had a vision, Kareena," said the nord, the words of the crow still echoing in his mind. The corners of his lips turned slightly upward. "I know where to find the Nerevarine."