Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, but I do own a legal copy of the game, which is how I can actually write a story about it. I make no money from this. This is strictly for entertainment, as well as for helping me improve my writing ability.
Author's Note: So I've been playing with a Skeleton character and I thought, "Hey! I can make fanfiction out of this crap!" So I did. Please review and tell me what could be improved upon.
"Stand your ground!" Nito called out to the skeletons assigned under him with a raspy voice, as they braced the gates of Solitude against the combined force of their lady's enemies. The battering ram smashed into the gate repeatedly, and while they gave no quarter, the gate staying firmly shut, Nito saw the wood was going to break, and the gate would fall eventually. Cursing, he drew his silver blade from its scabbard and commanded "Archers on the walls! The gate will fall! Turn your attention inside the wall! Shoot the humans as they pour in!"
The skeletal archers that lined the walls gave no verbal response, instead turning to do as they were told, knocking their arrows. Five more knocks on the gate and the head of the siege weapon broke through the gate, the giant bronze goat head peeking into the insides of Solitude. That was it. They had to make their stand here. Nito cursed some more and yelled "Footmen! Pull back! Prepare for combat in the city!"
The skeletons holding back the gate did just that, allowing the gate to burst open even as they drew their swords. The attacking Nords seemed surprised by the gate's sudden opening, staring in surprise as an army of skeletons retreated from them. They recovered quickly, however, and surged into the city like a horde of barbarians, only to be put down as a volley of arrows struck them from the back.
Nito was pleased. He doubted he could hold all of these savages with his forces, but any deaths he claimed in the name of the Wolf Queen were a boon to him! His skeletal hand reached to a pack slung around his hip bone, and pulled out a flask filled with green liquid. He hurled the toxic concoction into the ground, causing a foul, green smoke to fill the area. Nords began to fall to their knees left and right, choking from the toxic air.
"Spearmen, forward!" he commanded, causing skeletons with large spears, likely twice their height, to move forward, skewing the weakened Nords. The army of Potema's enemies outnumbered them, but their numbers meant nothing with this chokepoint. The body count began to escalate, as Nords rushed in to their deaths. It became difficult for enemy infantry to move in because of all the bodies on the floor, but Nito's spearmen simply kept stabbing, increasing the death count. Perhaps they could hold the entire army, after all.
Suddenly, there was a bright yellow flash, and Nito's forces dropped their weapons and began to scatter. Looking up, he saw an agent of the god Stendarr was standing in the gateway, a massive warhammer in one hand, a spell in the other. Nito cursed. He'd forgotten about them. Holy flames flew from the man's hand, aimed at the only skeleton that hadn't fled- namely, Nito. He was simply too strong for Restoration magic to demoralize him. Using his light body to his advantage, Nito dodged the holy fire with ease, before leaping at the agent of Stendarr from the side.
"You're a springy one, aren't ya?" the hooded man asked, swinging his hammer to catch Nito, but the skeleton was too quick, leaning down to land on the ground before he could collide with the hammer. He took advantage of the paladin or vigilant or whatever they called themselves' surprise, slashing with the silver blade at the man's lightly-armored gut, making the man bleed as Nito darted away.
"Why you little-!" the man grunted, using a Fast Healing spell on himself to seal the wound.
Nito was pleased with his minor victory, but he knew he could not hold out against all of the forces streaming through the gate, now that their position had been broken. He climbed up the side of a stone house, perching on the roof as he watched the dead Nords slowly rise to Queen Potema's service. The range at which she could raise dead was astounding.
He muttered yet more curses when he saw the zombies destroyed by holy fire, however. If they were to have a chance to win here, that man needed to die. Nito leaped from rooftop to rooftop, his leather cloak flapping in the wind. It was the only thing that distinguished him from the thousands of others in Potema's army of dead.
Peering down, it was obvious from what he saw that the paladin was looking for him, but had lost sight of him amid the mass reanimation the Wolf Queen had performed. Nords poured in through the empty streets, the mass of Potema's forces in the castle courtyard. Only Nito's detachment had been deployed here, as he proved more effective away from Potema's vampiric generals, whom he despised. He rummaged through his pack for a vial with black liquid in it- a mix of Imp Stool, Deathbell and Canis Root, if he was not mistaken, and coated his blade with it. He waited as the paladin scanned the ground for him, likely unaware that the skeleton was so agile.
He held a firm grip on the poisoned blade and jumped down as the paladin passed under him, jamming his blade into the nape of the man's neck. If the blow didn't kill him, the poison would. He pulled it out with some difficulty, as his blade was made for cutting rather than thrusting, but it did the trick. Pleased with himself, Nito failed to notice the bolt of lightning that flew towards him until it was too late. The current struck him and he lost consciousness, his service to Potema at an end. He could only hope that he'd done enough.
-Hundreds of years later-
He opened his eyes to a bleach-colored ground, his eyesight strong even in the dark of night. Where was he now? The sloping ground told him he was on top of a hill, and that he was face down on a stone floor that seemed out of place among all the grass and earth. The sound that fell to him from above told him exactly where he was, however.
"Arise, and serve me!" the necromancer Vaiya Varatina commanded to the skeletons she'd raised by the power of the Ritual standing stone. The Dunmer had been at it for days, eager to master the technique of controlling hordes of the dead. She aimed to surpass the great necromancers of old, like the dreaded Wolf Queen who had the power to rule Tamriel, or even the King of Worms who eluded capture in an era that outlawed the practice.
Such a foolish living she was. Of course, Nito did indeed rise from the ground and wield the crude mace he was provided. The Ritual power bound his body, whatever was left of it, to her will. This was the... seventh attempt? The foolish girl had been raising him and nearby skeletons in a vain attempt to raise her competence with necromancy. Did she not realize that the power keeping them up was not her own? A weak necromancer would not have been able to command him so easily, let alone with others. This "training" of hers would yield no fruit, regardless of how much she tried.
Quite frankly, Nito had served under the legendary Potema as part of her honor guard. He was far above the regular stock of skeletons. He doubted this one could even tell. Still, weak as she was, her concentration and preparations were perfect. There was no opening for him to break her hold over him. He needed something from the outside to help him. He doubted Queen Potema was coming back, though. The last time he'd been raised successfully was when he was slain again at the siege of Solitude. He had no idea how he'd even ended up here. He could tell it was still probably Skyrim, at least. Perhaps to the south of Solitude? How long had it been? For him to have a new necromancer, it meant that Potema was likely dead. He always did suggest she ascend to lichdom, but she always shrugged him off. Oh, well. Spilled milk.
"March!" the necromancer commanded, and Nito felt his bones compelled to make ridiculously exaggerated marching movements, with mace in hand. Gazing at his fellow skeletons, he found they seemed to be quite weak, and possibly stupid. They were like lifeless puppets, really, being manipulated by the Ritual Stone's power. Several minutes passed, and he felt the binding weaken. He felt a tugging from all around as he was called away, the power wearing off for the day.
As he lay floating in the omnipresent darkness, the afterlife of the damned such as he, the skeleton began to ponder what he would do if he ever broke free of the necromancer. He certainly wasn't going back here. He'd been stuck here for far too long. No. He would certainly set out. Perhaps there were powerful necromancers in the era who could use his power. Besides any physical prowess he may have possessed, Nito knew a powerful technique of the long-lost Mysticism school of magic. Where most practitioners of the art were limited to using the souls of they captured for enchanting (which eventually made people shift focus from Mysticism to just Enchanting), he could use these souls, inheriting some abilities of their owners. He could take the soul of a dying Nord and gain their resistance to the bitter cold. Not that he needed it, of course, seeing as how he could feel no cold. Dunmer fire resistance was a far better choice. He was limited to ingesting one soul at a time, however, and his soul gems where he kept the rest had long since disappeared. He had no idea who'd taken them, but he cared not. There were plenty enough specimens for him to recover his collection.
The familiar tugging at his essence told him a day had passed, and the Ritual was being conducted again. His eyes opened to the same scene, bleached of color by his night eyes. He caught side of the Dunmer necromancer to his left, chanting furiously, and to his surprise, something else, as well. A creature he'd never seen before was circling the skies above the necromancer, which likely explained her haste to raise him. Her panic would be her undoing, however, as Nito did the one thing he was capable of doing before his body was controlled.
"Boo!" a gravelly voice came from nowhere, startling the necromancer. What was it now? As if she wasn't distracted enough by the dragon flying overhead! Looking around, she noticed one of the skeletons glaring up at her with its glowing, blue eyes.
"What are you staring at?" the voice came again, as the skeleton's jaw opened and closed.
"Y-you can talk!" the necromancer exclaimed, realizing far too late that she had accidentally interrupted her chant.
"It seems I can also trick foolish upstart necromancers into releasing me!" the skeleton said in maniacal glee as it pushed itself up from the ground. Desperately, Vaiya shot a simple Raise Zombie spell at the nearest other skeleton. It rose to attention, brandishing an ancient greatsword.
The talking skeleton merely grabbed the other's skull and snapped it off of the other's neck with a single motion. Vaiya stared in horror as the skeleton she'd raised crumbled to dust, the spell undone.
Nito was quite satisfied now. Whatever that flying creature had been, he was indebted to it. Perhaps he would make its soul the centerpiece of his new collection. The necromancer girl was trembling now, the shaking visible even under her thick black, hooded robes. He reached out a bony hand and strangled her, despite her pleas of "No! Stop! Have mercy!"
He could have snapped her neck easily, but he decided that her repeated misuse of his strength deserved punishment. The girl's dark face became even darker as she suffered from lack of air. When it looked like she was about to die, he loosened his grip on her and asked, "What age is it? Where is the Wolf Queen?"
"The Wolf Queen?" she asked, seemingly confused. He tightened his grip again to ensure cooperation, releasing only to hear her speak.
"S-she died hundreds of years ago!" she answered, "Even the Septim bloodline is long gone!"
"Interesting," Nito commented casually, as if he wasn't literally holding her life in his hand, "Who rules now?"
"Depends on who you ask," she said, struggling to breathe, "Either the emperor, Meade, or the high king!"
"Thank you, my dear, you have been most helpful," he said somberly.
"Will you let me go?" she pleaded, tears forming in her red eyes.
"Oh, certainly. You may go," Nito answered, "...in peace."
The necromancer died with a smile on her face, thinking the skeleton was about to let her go. The realization that he was going to snap her neck in half came a bit late, it seemed. He unfurled his hand, as though waiting for something to be dropped into it. A green smoke seemed to drift from her mouth to his outstretched palm, crystallizing into a small green orb, which he promptly swallowed, disappearing into his skull. He eyed her robes for a second. He gently peeled them off of her and donned them, leaving her in a state similar to how she'd found him. He doubted people of this age would be comfortable with a masterless skeleton walking around, after all. He needed to stay incognito for a little while, at least.
He touched the Ritual Stone, and focused its power on himself, prolonging his stay in the mortal realm. Its power was limited, however, and even with it only supporting one skeleton, Nito had at most a little less than a day. He required a necromancer with a permanent binding spell to stay indefinitely. Thankfully, the time he'd spent around necromancers allowed him to sense how versed they were in the art. He sensed a strong aura coming from a nearby ruined keep, and decided to follow that.
He was about to leave, but then a thunderous roar overhead reminded him he was not yet alone. The flying creature was swooping down now, maw open. Was it trying to eat him? To his surprise, the creature shot a very strong blast of frost at him, the force staggering him a little.
"It can wield magic?" he mused, "No, not magic. The feeling is different."
The flying creature dropped to the ground before him, inhaling to expel more of its cold breath. Little good that would do it, seeing as how Nito was immune to all but the coldest frost spells. Now that Nito was aware of its little trick, he was able to brace himself for the force of it, completely unbothered by the cold. He endured through it as if he were walking through a thick gust, the howling wind slowing him but otherwise leaving him unscathed.
"Not very smart, are you?" he mocked, having nearly passed completely through the icy blast.
The creature responded in a language that Nito could not understand. What was this thing and where did it come from? He decided that information could wait, grabbing hold of the crude mace on the ground. As much as he hated blunt weapons, preferring a sharp blade in his hand, this was an emergency, and he doubted his fists would do much to it. His light body allowed him to leap onto the creature's head. The creature began shaking its head to dislodge the skeleton, but Nito held on with both legs and his left arm.
Nito then began to bludgeon the creature's eyes, which he believed would be as soft as any other creature's. His hypothesis was proven correct when blood splatted from the giant reptile's eye sockets, now bloody mounds as it thrashed and roared in pain. Now blind, Nito doubted it would put up much more of a fight. He leaped off of its face and onto its back, bashing the back of the creature's head. It was a low-quality weapon, but enough to harm it. The creature continued to jerk in pain, desperate to get the skeleton off of it, but Nito was dextrous enough to stay on until the creature eventually fell, a crack on the scales on back of its head.
"More bark than bite," Nito said, throwing the rusty mace nonchalantly to the side. He then jumped down to inspect the beast. It was obviously large, and seemed a natural predator with its big claws and mouth. The scales that covered its body seemed strong enough to turn away weaker blades. Of course, the corpse did not hold Nito's attention for long as he proceeded to its mouth and extended his hand, prepared to extract its soul.
An orange light escaped the creature's jaws and seemed to flow into his hand, forming a bright, orange orb that seemed to be aflame. That was odd. He'd never seen an orange soul before. He spat the Dunmer necromancer's soul into his other hand before ingesting the strange creature's. Words he could not recognize filled his head. Had he been mortal, it might have hurt. He could make out the word "Force," but the other two seemed blurry to him.
He shrugged it off and decided the soul was useless. Spitting it back out, the orange soul seemed to burn away, as if it had been spent. "What was that about?" he thought out loud as he swallowed the Dunmer's soul once again.
The whole matter left Nito quite confused, so he left the area and headed towards the keep, mindful of his limited time on this plane.
Author Talking Yet Again:
So that was the first chapter of Nito's travels through Skyrim. Again, please provide feedback if it's not too much of a bother, and if you have questions, feel free to ask! For those not in the know, you can easily find info on Potema by searching the net. In short, she was a powerful necromancer and member of the Septim bloodline, long ago. Again, the lore is out there, people. I'd rather not discuss it in length.