A/N: Hello guys! My name is LordSmythe, and this is my first fiction, a RWBY and Skyrim crossover. Before I get started, I want to get a few things off of my chest. The first is that if you have not played The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, than I would NOT recommend that you read this (I'm going to assume that you have played it, I mean, why else would you be here? Buuuuut you know what they say about assuming). The second is a congratulatory message to you, the reader, for delving this far into the author's notes; no one reads the author's note, right? I never do. Last of all, I want to thank you for reading and hope you enjoy my story: Dovahro Kran. (This is in the dragon tongue; it translates to Dragon's Tide. All dragon language translations can be found in the A/N after each chapter.)
Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls Series is owned by Bethesda Softworks. RWBY is owned by Monty Oum and Roosterteeth
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Chapter 1: Remnants
The night was cold. Although not uncommon in the northernmost Province of Tamriel, the unpleasant bite of the Skyrim air was colder than usual. Winter was fast approaching. It was well into the month of Sun's Dusk of the year 4E 213. None of these facts, however, could reach the interest of one man; a dark figure who was strode his way up the peak of Skyrim, the Throat of the World. He wore heavy armour. He wore greaves, boots and a chest plate, all crafted to fit the man perfectly. The armour had many cuts and scratches, many of which would have proven fatal. He never wore helmet. When asked why the man claimed it "hindered his eyesight". He had suffered several scars because of this, however. Two large swords lay sheathed on his back, along with a brilliant white bow with a quiver of the same scheme. A giant, golden cylinder could also be seen hung over his shoulder. Frost clung to the man's stubble while his long, brown hair whipped in the deadly winds around him; well, deadly to anyone else…
"Lok, VAH KOOR"
A thunderous crack echoed around the peak, and a wave of silver energy cascaded into the sky. The winds immediately dissipated, leaving the man unharmed from the cold elements. He strode into a large clearing. A stone structure stood on the opposite side, covered with ancient runes and carvings. Suddenly, a piercing roar came from above, immediately followed by a torrent of wind and snow. A creature landed in the clearing away from the man, as others circled above. It had two huge, serpentine wings that folded underneath it, many holes littered the fragile membranes. Its body was covered in scales and spikes, all razor-sharp. These creatures were dragons; a race that has struck true terror into the hearts of Men and Mer alike, since the beginning of time. However this man did not feel such terror, he did not even flinch. He just spoke…
"Drem yol lok, Paarthunaax mindovin, I have answered your summons. What do you require?" The man conversed with great respect.
"Zu'u daal gruz, Dovahkiin. You impress me with your su'um. It seems I have taught you well in the way of the voice." The dragon, now known as Paarthunaax, spoke with power. His words radiated with energy. Despite this authority, he shifted with unease. "Nuz krosis, for it is not through grace I have called you here. Bormah has spoken to me, and has asked me to bring his concerns to your attention."
As Paarthunaax said this, the Dovahkiin, or Dragonborn, and all of the other dragons, perked up to his words. This surprised the warrior. Akatosh has never interfered with the order of the world, in any way. Only in the most dire of situations does he… "What happened?"
"Nothing… yet," Paarthunaax growled "But soon. Our Father fears an unbalance in power. Nii jeyk mok. He knows very little, but what he is aware of is that this disturbance is separate from lein do Vus." His dark tone lightened slightly. "You have what I asked? The Kel?"
The Dovahkiin nodded and reached behind him. He then produced the golden cylinder from before. It had two leather handles at each end, laced in gold, and a golden pommel on the end of those. The main body had numerous exquisite gems and carvings. This was an Elder Scroll, an ancient artefact of supposed divine construction. They are said to contain any and all past, present and future events that can possibly take place within the realm of Aetherius, and are believed to have been written by the Nine Divines. However, as soon as one begins to speculate, the Scrolls disappear and resurface in different and random locations. Since the creation of Aetherius, many scrolls have been written. The Dragonborn now held the youngest of them all, The Elder Scroll of Tide. He gripped it tightly, how it came upon him still fresh in his mind. A little gift from a certain cheese-adoring demon…
"Aaaah, yes. Dey do faal Kran. A vital instrument in your coming journey." Paarthunaax stated with a smirk.
"Journey? What do you mean by journey?" The Dragonborn started to sweat. He knew where this was going…
"Our Father has requested that you would be the one to deal with this… situation." Paarthunaax's eyes lock onto the scroll. "Do you wish to know why?"
The Dovahkiin signalled for him to continue, slightly less distraught about the news. "The Zuwuth Dey are written to assist the mortals of Mundus. Their main purpose is to warn its inhabitants of calamities even the Nine themselves dare not interfere with. Only Father Akatosh can intervene, and he always has. He has written the Scrolls according to his foresight. Rok los, mindin pah, faal Dovah Rah do Tiid. The Scroll you now bear was written for you, Dovahkiin. He has bonded it with your very soul, meaning only you can read it." Paarthunaax moved his head closer toward the Dragonborn. "I suggest you do so now, Dovahkiin. Qostiid. Prophecy. It is not to be taken lightly."
"That doesn't explain why that firok Sheogorath was the one to give it to me." The Dragonborn mumbled under his breath, forgetful to the Dragon's extraordinary hearing.
"Hmmm, yes. Faal Deyruv Kulaan do Vorohah is well acquainted with Akatosh." Paarthunaax chortled. He watched as the Dragonborn scowled and held the Elder Scroll in front of him. He carefully unrolled the parchment. He was expecting the scroll to immediately burn his sight. Instead, the Nord's mind flashed with images. He saw a forest at night. The trees dimly illuminated by a shattered moon. His sight flickered into four girls and a man. His vision was blurred, but he could make out the colours of their clothing and hair: Red, White, Brown, Black and Yellow. After that, he saw a burning city. It was huge, like nothing he had seen. It was larger than the Imperial City by far. Words of the Dovahzul echoed in his mind. At this, the Dragonborn's vision faded, and he was once more greeted by Paarthunaax.
The Dragonborn relayed his knowledge as well as reciting the words. "You must face your foe once more, for the fields of a remnant beckon you away. Be steadfast. You are the dragon that shall turn the tide. Be strong, my son."
Paarthunaax remained silent for a while, obviously thinking. "It seems to me that Father has left a message for you, but I do not know what to make of these five figures, or this strange city, but I do know one thing." The old dragon shifted his weight in the snow. "It appears that you once again you must fulfil another of Father's prophecies. Nii dreh uful zey. This 'foe' he mentions, like you've faced it before."
Panic suddenly flooded through everyone present, as they all realized the same thing. The Dragonborn shuddered at the thought. "Could it be… the World-Eater, Alduin?"
Paarthunaax growled in displeasure. "I am unsure, Dovahkiin. It is true that he cannot be slain, but that is for you to discover now. While you have saved this land, another calls for your aid. Knowing this, you must leave, immediately."
"Do not fear, Dragonborn." The hazel-haired Nord turned on his heels. He was met by four figures in embroidered, grey robes; they all bore a beard of the same colour.
"Masters Arngeir, Wulfgar, Borri, Einarth." The Dragonborn once more spoke with respect.
"There is no need to take such a formal tone with us, Dragonborn. Your thu'um has far surpassed ours." He spoke with authority. "We shall inform High-King Ulfric Stormcloak of your situation."
"Thank you, Master Arngeir." A hurricane of sadness raged in his heart. Was he really ready? He'd be leaving his wife Mjoll, his beautiful daughters, Sofie and Luna. His friends: Aela, Delphine, Esbern, Farkas and Vilkas, Brynjolf, Eorlund, and many more. Would he truly be able to leave his friends and family behind without a goodbye? He turned to Paarthunaax. "How will I travel to this new world?"
Paarthunaax craned his neck toward his left. The Dragonborn followed his line of sight, coming to rest at a mass of swirling air and energy. "Akatosh has bonded the Kel to the Tiid Ahraan. The Time Wound. Read the scroll once more in this fracture of time, and you will be transported to these 'fields of a remnant'."
"Will I be able to return?"
"Not with the power of the scroll. No. If you wish to return to Keizaal, you must find another way. It is time to choose, Dovahkiin. Will you once more follow your fate?"
The Nord was silent for a long time, he closed his eyes. His mind was racing. It was true that he did not wish to part with his home. His inability to return only strengthened his attachment. But another world was in danger, quite possibly the same danger that threatened his world once. If it really was Alduin, then the inhabitants of these 'fields of a remnant' stood no chance. Once more, his dragon blood was boiling. He longed for a challenge, and this was his perfect opportunity. The Dragonborn smiled and opened his eyes; an inferno of excitement.
"I'm ready."
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The Dragonborn stood within the Time-Wound, the energy swirling around him. The Elder Scroll lay in his palm. Several pairs of eyes watched him intently. He looked at each of them. The four Greybeards, Paarthunaax, Odahviing, a dragon known as Vulokah, and several others were present. The Greybeards, Odahviing, and other dragons stayed silent, but he could see them all smiling. Paarthunaax spoke then…
"Zu'u braag hi tahriik wundun, Dovahkiin. May the wind forever guide you." The old dragon spoke quietly, he would never admit it, but even he felt a twinge of sadness.
"Zu'u braag hi vonok, pah do hi. Dreh ni uful, Zu'u fent ahkron." The Dragonborn held the Scroll up to the heavens and unravelled the contents. Power surged through him, through his veins, down his spine. He felt himself being dragged away. His vision faded darker, as well as the moons, and the mountain, the sky, until all he saw was black.
Suddenly, an eruption of colour fed into his line of sight. This too faded, and a sky came into view, the stars shone brightly, but the Dragonborn did not recognize any of the constellations. Next came some trees, black from the night. These confused him also; they were different from any tree he had seen in Skyrim. All of a sudden, he was thrown into something hard. The Nordic man blinked several times. He found himself on the forest floor, and quickly picked himself up.
The man clad in dragon bone slung the Elder Scroll over his shoulder, and took in his surroundings. He then headed through the forest and quickly noticed now that the grass and the trees had a grey tint to them. Something else was brought to the Dragonborn, his armour. It seemed to rattle a lot more than it used to and kept shifting. It felt like it had been fitted by a child on skooma. This concerned him, so he drew one of his swords, Dovahkriid, and lit a match, checking his reflection in the steel. This blade was of his own creation, as he was a master blacksmith. It was crafted from a light, but strong alloy of steel and malachite. Words of Dovahzul were engraved into the sides and radiated with a light blue energy. The sword also bore the seal of Akatosh on the hilt. To his surprise and horror, he saw not only a clean shaven face, but smooth skin as well. He was young! Before, he was in his early forties, now, it seems, he can't be much older than fifteen. He still had his scars, however. They ran over his right eye and cheek. He ran his finger over them, causing him to twitch. Damned Thalmor ambush. He thought to himself with a scowl.
The Dragonborn was snapped out of his bewilderment by several growls in the foliage. He dropped the match and drew his other blade, Dovahro Faas: The left-handed sword of the Dragonborn. This was crafted in the ancient Akiviri style and was made from ebony, a rare and strong metal. More words of the Dovahzul were inscribed on the blade, ebbing in a red energy instead of the blue. He whispered a thu'um.
"Laas, Yah Nir."
The Dragonborn's vision flashed black for a second as the tree line was no riddled with red energy. He took his stance and readied his blade. Suddenly, three black creatures lunged out of the shadows. They charged at the Dovahkiin and were closing in fast, two from his left, one to his right. The Dragonborn rolled under the first claw and parried another with Dovahro Faas. He then brought up Dovahkriid and lodged the blade into its skull, which, to the Dragonborn's amazement, seemed to be on the outside of its head. The creature, now recognized to be some sort of wolf, died quickly. The others were outraged and let out deep howls. More of the wolves charged their way out of the bushes, rushing toward their target. Their first mistake was to all find themselves in front of the Dragonborn, and they would not live to make a second.
"SU, GRAH DUN!
White energy erupted around the Dragonborn. He threw himself towards his 'attackers' and cut them down one by one, felling each with grace and precision in a flurry of steel and ebony. Severed arms, legs and heads flew and fell, each coming into ground with a dull thud. Soon, there were none left to oppose him.
The Dragonborn sheathed his blades and went to examine one of the bodies, which to his surprise, was decaying extremely quickly. They indeed resembled a wolf, a werewolf in fact. A white skull stood out against the black fur. In the sockets were two gleaming red eyes that, despite their lifelessness, still shone in the moonlight… speaking of which.
The Dragonborn looked to the sky and gasped. Instead of Nirn's moons, Masser and Secunda, stood one moon, comparably white in colour with the others. But it was not that which startled him the most. A shattered moon, I remember now. Well, at least I'm in the right place. I was starting to think this was Hircine's blasted realm for a moment there.
Another rustle came from the trees, and the Dragonborn immediately turned around, his eyes locked onto the dense vegetation. A hand rested over the hilt of Dovahkriid. He heard more rustling and voices. This caused him to relax a little. It seemed that they were not more of those monsters.
"You can come on out, you've long since blown your cover." He heard several mumbles and curses as three figures stepped out into the clearing: Two young girls and a tall man, that he could make out.
"Stay back, girls." The man stepped forward. He had black hair which stood up towards the back of his head and had light stubble of the same colour. The man wore a grey and white jacket with a tattered red cloak, the same colour as his eyes. He approached with a one hand held on the hilt of what looked to be a colossally huge great sword. The Dragonborn could smell alcohol on his breath as he spoke. "Hey, kid. What's your name?"
"You first." The Dragonborn frowned at the man.
"Hard to get, eh? I can respect that, my name's Qrow. Qrow Branwen. And these are my two nieces." Qrow gestured toward the two girls who now stepped forward. The taller of the two spoke first.
"Hey there! My name's Yang Xiao Long, your fight was incredible-" Qrow nudged her in the side sharply, indicating that she had revealed too much information. She spoke with an almost teasing, but kind tone. "Oh, right, sorry." Yang had very long, blond hair and bright lilac eyes. She wore a yellow T-shirt and brown leather jacket. On her arms and hands were a set of fingerless gloves and some king of… gauntlets? At this, the smaller girl stepped forward.
"Hi! I'm Ruby Rose. It's nice to meet you!" Ruby smiled at the Dragonborn and held out her hand. Her hair was mostly black with some highlights of red. Her clothing was also red. She wore a black skirt and red T-shirt. Over the top was a black jacket, similar to Yang's. Behind her, strapped to her back, was a large red box. Maybe that's her weapon? It's like nothing I've ever seen. The same goes for Yang's gauntlets and that huge sword. What intrigued him the most though was her eyes. They were deep silver, but that wasn't it. It was the look in them, a look he had seen thousands of times in the eyes of his eldest, Luna. It was the look of a fighter, one who wanted to be a hero, to make the world better.
"Likewise." The Dragonborn smiled and took her hand, giving a firm shake. He then stepped back and turned to the three inhabitants of this brand new world. They were… different. They were alien to him, with their unusual dress sense and eye colours. He put all of that to the back of his head and smile.
"My name is Yuvon Brown, at your service."
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A/N: So, what did we think? I'm quite pleased with myself, for my first fic and first chapter. Only took a few hours, so chapters might be a regular occurrence, but no promises.
Now, the translations. I got all of these courtesy of …
Lok, VAH KOOR – Clear Skies Shout Stage 3
Drem yol lok – Greetings
Zu'u daal gruz, Dovahkiin – I return your greeting, Dragonborn.
su'um – Breath
Nuz krosis, – But sorrow,
Bormah – Father / Akatosh
Nii jeyk mok – It confuses him.
Kel – Elder Scroll (singular)
Dey do faal Kran – The Scroll of the Tide
Zuwuth Dey – Elder Scrolls (plural)
Rok los, mindin pah, faal Dovah Rah do Tiid. – He is, after all, the Dragon God of Time.
Qostiid – Prophecy
Firok – Bastard
Faal Deyruv Kulaan do Vorohah – The Daedric Prince of Madness
Nii dreh uful zey – It does worry me
Tiid Ahraan – Time Wound
Keizaal - Skyrim
Vulokah – Dawn Sky Hunter
Zu'u braag hi tahriik wundun, Dovahkiin. – I beckon you safe travel, Dragonborn.
Zu'u braag hi vonok, pah do hi. Dreh ni uful, Zu'u fent ahkron. – I beckon you farewell, all of you. Do not worry, I shall prevail.
Laas, Yah Nir. – Aura Whisper Shout Stage 3
Dovahkriid – Dragonslayer
Dovahzul – Dragon language
Dovahro Faas – Dragon's Fear
SU, GRAH DUN! – Elemental Fury Shout, Stage 3
So, that's that. Feel free to leave a review, but please be gentle, it's my first time ;)
LordSmythe out.