HEEEELLLLLLOOOOOOOO! If any of you play Elder Scrolls Online, and are in the North American server of the United States, search up my character "Silver Guard". I am a Dark Elf Dragon Knight, dual wielder with a love for enchanting and thieving. I am a part of the Fighters Guild and will partake in the Thieves Guild, and maybe the Dark Brotherhood DLC at some point.
My goal is to get all the classes and equip them with "un-canon" type things, such as: Dragon Knight with light-medium armor and two swords / Cleric with a greatsword and heavy armor / Sorcerer with a bow or sword/shield / Nightblade with a staff and mid armor, or dual maces / and a Templar with dual swords and a bow combo when I reach level 15.
Do not expect what anyone says in the game to be written here exactly. I'll do my best.
Good day.
In a dark, decrepit and stone cell, sitting in a fetal position with her hands combing through her hair, a Dark Elf sat, doing all she could to forget the Hell of her new life (if you could call it that) in Coldharbour.
There was a yellow skeleton next to her, pieces of rotted meat being gnawed on by rats, their torn and matted bodies thin and ravaged by hunger, scavengers most likely.
As she attempted to find peace, a few more "Soul Shriven" ran past. At first, she paid no mind, they didn't so why should she? It was now that she heard the shouting and distant clang of metal and fighting, and that she noticed the poor souls were armed and barking commands. At least, the ones that could. The others seemed to follow.
Standing up, she dusted off her matted and messy cotton garments (force of habit really) and swept a piece of elegant hair out of her pink-red, big eyes.
Scuttling closer, the Soul Shriven woman placed a hand on her cell door, only to jump back when a very tall Nord woman with an ax in both hands appeared.
"Whoah there! Are you alright?" Her voice was rather feminine, but had a layer of worry with a major vibe of strength and power. "Name's Lyris." And with that, she hefted the big ax and cleaved the locking mechanism in two.
Probably not a good idea to piss her off.
Exiting the cage with a raspy "Thank you!" The Dark Elf walked out. Even though it was only a door, Lyris seemed to be much taller. Not too much in the chest area, unlike the Elf, but she was rather pretty. Impressive since she had very visible muscle and was very tall. Many women 'ought to be envious of her back in Tamriel.
"What's your name, lass?" The Elf cleared her throat before speaking, her slightly scratched and deep but light tone flowing out in a rocky breath. "S-Silver...Silver Guard." Lyris seemed to be surprised, no idea why though.
"Well, you don' strike me as a 'Silver', but to each her own I s'ppose." Lyris patted the ax against her palm, "Hope you still got some fight left in you, we got a fight ahead of us." Her tone seemed to become more worried, but that's pretty understandable. They're fighting in the realm of Molag Bal with nothing but rags on their backs.
Turning to the only exit that was open, they approached a dead Dremora, a slightly chipped and pretty standard iron greatsword in the black clawed grip. "Must be the runt of the litter, take that weapon, you'll need it."
Silver placed her hands on the weapon, but slightly faltered at the weight. With little food and little amounts of strength since her "passing", Silver could barely keep the weapon steady enough to give a practice swing. Lyris seemed skeptical, but sighed, "Good enough. Now let's go."
Getting a good grip on the weapon, Silver held it close to her stomach with the blade upright while she sprinted with what stamina she could muster. Gods damn Lyris and her long legs!
Reaching an area filled with skulls, carts of skeletons and maggots and a huge furnace, a dark and light blue smoke of fire appeared and a Dremora Churl sprang out, black mace and sharp black shield in hands.
Letting out a roar, Lyris struck with an overhead strike, which was deflected by the shield and nearly ripped open her stomach with a quick swipe to her mid-section. Silver approached from the side and struck side ways, gaining a clean hit on the Churl. Unfortunately, the Dremora knew how to counter, and sent the Elf a few feet away with a kick to the stomach. Lyris struck again as the Dremora turned, and sent the blunt side of her ax on the blue horned and white painted skull, releasing a cry of pain and a sickening crack.
This only made the Dremora even angrier as it charged and slammed the shield against Lyris's front, followed up by a kick that knocked down the Soul Shriven Nord. With the ax sent to the side, the Dremora prepared to bring the mace down, having dropped the shield to put two hands on the mace, but was ended brutally as the iron greatsword in the hands of a tall Dark Elf went straight through it's head and down it's back, the armor stopping it before it could go further. Luckily, the head was cleaved in two, and with an explosion of blue fire, the Churl was resorted to ashes that smoked a little.
Panting, Silver lowered her sword, the heavy weapon taking a lot out of her already weak soul deprived body.
"*Huff* Thanks for that." Lyris got up and kicked at the ashes. They continued on and passed a group of Soul Shriven blocking a door with their bodies, an Argonian pressing his back against it and telling the others things to keep up, especially against the threat of guards. Lyris passed and the two entered another closed area.
"Let's get-DUCK!" Pulling Silver down, the two women were almost turned into flaming husks as a female Dremora Kyngald appeared and charged up her staff, sending another bolt of red hot fire at the two. Splitting off to the sides, Silver let her instincts take over as she quickly and quietly (mostly clunky) ran at the side, following up with a swipe that the Dremora mage ducked, but was then sent sprawling forward by Lyris's ax slamming into the back, knocking the staff out of her blue hands and knocking her down, her back now bleeding dark, thick blue blood.
With a heave and a grunt, the two Soul Shriven raised their blades and sent down two heavy strikes from two blades, a shrill cry of pain ending abruptly.
"Great job. We'll have to get you a better weapon, the greatsword doesn't seem to...suit...you...Gods." Lyris trailed off breathless as Silver's gaze was then diverted to a glowing blue and transparent man in robes and a staff, Lyris letting out a gasp, "The Prophet...!"
In a deep and matured voice betraying his shriveled up looks, the man spoke, "Greetings Vestige. Like you, I am a prisoner in this place, you must rescue me, and I in turn will rescue you." Walking up Silver gazed upon the man with a look of hope and skepticism. Before she could speak, the "Prophet" disappeared and Lyris spoke, "Hold a moment."
"Lyris...?" Silver's voice layered an unasked question.
"The Prophet!" Her voice seemed to ignore Silver, "He must be a prisoner here too. It was very dangerous for him to speak to you, but he must think you can help me."
Confused and the hope slightly thinning, Silver asked, "Help you do what?"
"Break him out of course! Believe me, I'll need all the help I can get. That blind old man's the only one that can get us home. Tamriel's a long way from here."
Silver's hope returned, "Where do we go from here?" Lyris smiled, but it seemed forced and nervous.
"These tunnels will eventually lead us to the Tower of Eyes, there, we will find the Sentinels." Silver was confused. She didn't exactly get out of her cage often. "Sentinels?"
"Molag Bal's magical constructs to keep an eye on Coldharbour. They're all connected, if we take down one, we take the others down as well." Silver felt an old tingle in her spine, one she never thought she would experience again; excitement.
"How are we going to take down a, uh, Sentinel?" Lyris shrugged, exasperated and spoke with a mixed tone. "Don't know...brute force? We'll figure something out." Taking a quick second to gain her bearings, Silver hefted the massive blade, but almost collapsed as the adrenaline began to leave her system, the weight and her fatigue not helping whatsoever.
With a quick pat on the back from the Nord, the two continued, Silver being forced to ignore the strain on her arms and lower body as she hefted such a massive weight, that seemed to get heavier by the second.
Reaching yet another room, the two stopped and raised their weapons as the dreaded Forge Master, Vaeker, Silver thought, lifted a man by the throat and threw him at a nearby spike, impaling him with a loud crack and wet impact.
The huge Dremora began to cackle, and completely missed the two women sneaking behind him. Silver was fighting to keep the sword steady in her hands, the blade being forced to stay low, but also throwing the weight to the side, and her athletic, but deprived, frame was struggling. The blade was shaking.
Screaming in protest, her muscles began to cramp painfully and the blade tapped against the lowered pole of Lyris's ax and the stone ground. Growling, the Forge Master turned and sent a side ways strike to Lyris, who stepped back.
Silver attempted to strike, but the weight became to much, and her weapon was wrenched from her small hands as he kicked her back, the pain from the previous kick coming back and now screaming in agony in her stomach.
Backing away and tripping on a skull, she was nearly split by the Forge Masters sword(1), but Lyris intercepted and punched the creature in the helmet, not the smartest idea, but she ignored the pain in her arm and hefted her ax, smacking the blade against the shoulder of the Dremora.
This one's armor was stronger, but it still left a deep gash in the skin like layer of armor, wrenching him back, but the sword's flat slammed into Lyris's head, sending her back and a deep gash to appear on her arm as she narrowly avoided her head being cleaved, but the sword sliding down the side of her arm.
Howling in pain, Lyris was forced back, and tripped as the Dremora advanced. Silver felt her Magicka flow through her as she threw her hand forward, a long chain and spear head made of molten metal flying towards the Dremora and ripping into the back, making the creature howl it's raspy voice in anger and pain.
Turning, Lyris took the advantage and tackled the creature, knocking the weapon from it's hands and sent the black steel sword a few feet a way. Luckily, just in reaching distance of Silver. Taking a quick turn, she felt her feeble healing magic soothe her pain slowly as she gripped the sword.
It was a perfect balance.
As Lyris began to punch and slam her ax's pole into the creature, she was kicked off and the Forge Master attempted to get up. Attempted being the key word.
Silver rushed forward and drove the blade through the now exposed neck, the Dremora making a chocked gurgle that sounded like a cat was being skinned alive. With a poof! of ash and blue fire, the Dremora turned into a pile of ash.
"I suppose...you...*huff*, won't need that...greatsword anymore..." Lyris and Silver began to cough as they fought to catch their breath. Silver approached, sorrow on her face. "I'm sorry, here." Placing her hands on the woman's shoulder, she ignored Lyris's hiss of pain as she channeled slow amounts of Magicka, not exactly healing the wound, but it stopped the bleeding and numbed the area of effect.
"Thanks..." Taking a few moments, Silver sent some Magicka to her palms, elation filling her eyes as her wonderful Magicka returned fully, it's hot, searing yet pleasant and pleasurable touch coursing through her system, the renewed affect acting like a high, or the equivalent of being drunk, just not swaying or losing motor skills.
"Come...on..." Exiting through a bronze door, the duo finally entered the main cavern, where sounds of fighting, shouting, and cowering was assaulting their ears.
The huge cavern was filled with magic constructs that were forging massive chain links, massive turbines and pulleys spinning chains through the ground, and on top of a hill, a glowing fire blue orb was sending beams of light on the ground, each Soul Shriven caught in the beam beginning to scream as they disappeared in wisps of blue smoke(2).
"You take care of the Sentinel, I'll try and help as many Soul Shriven as I can." Silver nodded mutely, finally getting to see the huge architecture of the place for the first time, it was mesmerizing, in a horrific curiosity type of way.
Down the stairs two at a time, Silver hefted her sword and took notice of a female Churl standing idly, her arms crossed and a big maul on her back as her thin frame was taking irritated steps back and forth slowly, no doubt wishing to be a part of the fight. There was also an unopened chest next to her.
Stopping a little bit away, Silver charged her "Dragon Magic" and sent a flaming chain towards the Dremora, it stuck and the creature was pulled towards the Dark Elf, the creature now dazed and hissing in pain. Before it could reach the black, Daedric maul on it's back, Silver swiped the blade along the stomach, where the armor was weakest.
There was a scream as the Dremora fell, ending quickly as Silver plunged the blade through the weak chest plate. The creature's thin frame wasn't made for direct hits. A glass cannon most likely.
As the creature lay dead, Silver noticed a gleaming gold and reached down, smiling coyly as she hefted a small leather purse of gold. There was only five, but it was a good start. Looking to the chest, she noticed there was no lock, so she got on her knees as she opened the slightly rusted and dark brown wooden chest.
In it was a leather "jerkin" and leather leggings, the brown leather already equipped with several pockets and sheathes along the dark red and black assassin themed clothing(3), although both seemed to need some fixing up. Ducking behind a rock before another Dremora or a scandalous prisoner saw her, she slipped off her matted top, her bare skin freezing in the shade of the cool stone, her nipples hardening quickly from the lost of warmth, and slipped on the top.
With a few quick straps to tie, the assassin themed leather was snug on her frame, two small side sheathes perfectly sized for her sword.
It brought back memories. But entering memory lane will have to wait. She needed to survive first. Biting back her now acting pride, she slipped off her bottoms and slipped on the leggings quickly, tying the knots and straps together so it was snug. She pulled up the hood of the jerkin and slipped out. Luckily, the few Soul Shriven nearby were either fleeing, fighting, or dazed and zombified.
Strapping the purse to her waist, Silver took quick notice of another Dremora walking by, this one with a dark metal and wood staff with a glowing red crystal "blooming" on the top like a flower. How ironic. Such beauty in craft being used by a dark entity.
Silver attempted to sneak away, but the Soul Shriven' next to her were brain dead, walking bags of meat, so they tried to reach out and grab her and pretty much motioned for the Dremora to see her.
Biting back a string of curses, Silver stood and stepped behind one of the nearby rocks, the fireball that would've struck her hitting a Soul Shriven instead and sending the others into a shambling run in different directions. They were all chained together, so they didn't get far.
The Pyromage growled in annoyance, her blue skin a light contrast to her dark blue robes. These one's don't wear armor, so if she could get past the staff, Silver should be fine.
Taking a few deep breaths, the Dark Elf sprung out, her sword swinging forward in an arc that caught the Dremora by surprise. The shocked growl ended in a shrill whine as her throat was slit and her chest was slashed.
While this may be a Dremora, and even though they have as many weak points as mortals, they are still rather tough unless they get hit directly in weakened spots, so this one swung the staff as it grasped its neck and chest with the other hand.
Staves require two hands to properly use while casting, and with her stamina quickly coming back thanks to her Magicka, Silver was a much deadlier opponent. Feeling the red flame graze her shoulder, she performed a series of forward thrusts that ended with a slice to the head, sending the Dremora into a crumpled heap.
She was getting good at this.
Smirking in confidence now that she was close to normal strength, she rolled her shoulders to iron out any kinks and picked up the staff. When she was alive, she only practiced enough with staves along side the Akaviri forces to cast simple bolts and work basic magic that wasn't that of the Dragon Arts.
With a bit more time, she could master the Dragon Form with ease. First, she must escape with Lyris and the Prophet.
Placing the staff on her back, where one of the many sheathes were located, she fiddled around with the new armor until the staff was at an angle and didn't prohibit any sort of movement to her legs.
Moving forward, she began the age old art of sneak, where she dodged some Dremora Churls and Kyngalds rather easily, until she found herself in some sort of camp.
It was pitiful and the Soul Shriven were mindless shambling corpses, but there was a decent sized chest and a few crates still in working order. In the chest, she found an enchanted sword of flame, another part of her many affinities, and some clear water.
Tightening the sword to her belt and placing the two vials of water on a chest pocket, Silver began to run to the direction of the stairs.
No longer getting side tracked, she threw another molten spear head at a Dremora guard, who was prepared to strike down a Soul Shriven with rusted metal armor and a maul, she pulled the Dremora towards her and attempted that of the Akaviri Martial Art of "Nyao Dracona"(4), where she spun and channeled her Draconic Magic towards her leg, which was raised up and extended in a high kick, the struck the chest plate of the Dremora and cracked it, the front beginning to melt in steam and red, almost molten flame.
A bit too much as her magicka began to dwindle from to much use at once, and too much from loss of practice, but it got the job done.
Holding out her hand, she pulled up the Soul Shriven, that turned out to be an Argonian, and received a "Thanks" in return, almost unhearable from the drone of fighting, the quiet tone and the natural raspy almost phlegm filled voice of the lizard race.
"Where are you headed?" Silver asked. The Argonian pointed up the hill where the Sentinel was perched at the top. "I've worked around these long enough to know what to do. The Eyes are fragile as the magic is delicate, and solidified into a, uhm, object that it can be broken easily. Just don't get caught in the beam." With a scornful laugh, the Argonian motioned for the Dark Elf to follow.
Taking the steps slowly, they passed a dead Soul Shriven that was next to a dead Dremora Churl.
"That fighting...that was Akaviri, no?" Silver nodded. The Argonian smiled. "While many of my kind would find that style...repulsive, I owe my life to the ancient Akaviri men and mer." Silver cocked her head, their pace was quiet and steady, so as not to be seen, and their voices were kept loud enough to just be heard.
"When the Kamal attacked my home in an Argonian settlement off of the Akaviri Isles, my people were almost wiped out and eaten by the Snow Demons. As I feared for my end, I was ready for death as one of the White creatures raised it's vile weapon at me, but it never struck. When I opened my eyes, a man in old Samurai attire with a black katana was there, the blade flaming and struck through the body of the Kamal warrior. All around, many more Akiviri men and mer showed up, slaying the Demons with ease.
It was only a small time after I had been rescued that I was brought to one of the camps, as the only Argonian no less. It was after I had been moved that Mannimarco captured me with the rest, I hadn't seen another Akavir member since. Ah, we are here."
So caught up in the small story, Silver almost wandered into the view of the Sentinel, where it began to peer over it's perch and search out Soul Shriven with it's repulsive sight.
She would need to work on that.
Crouching, they began to brainstorm a plan.
"I'll sneak up behind it, you throw a rock or something and get it to look the other way." Silver shushed the argument coming from the armored Argonian. "Your armor is too clunky and I've practiced stealth since I joined the Akaviri ranks when I was nothing but an infant, I'll have a better chance." This confidence was almost completely different from her meek state earlier, but Silver wasn't complaining.
Maybe it was because she got her strength back. Again, no complaining.
The Argonian hefted a big black rock in his slightly waning muscular arms and he reared back, throwing the stone at one of the stone cages with a mortal skeleton in it. It worked, the Eye began to turn and peer around the entrance where they came, and Silver was already behind it.
As she rose to strike with her swords, the Eye turned and she was caught in the bright beam as she struck.
With a blinding pain and white filling her vision, she was thrown back and barely felt the hard floor as the Sentinel exploded. The white glare was still there and she was in unbearable pain as her senses began to go dark, and she felt her body go numb.
1: I know the Forge Master uses a massive mace/maul, but my Silver Guard character is a dual wielder with an affinity for one handed weapons, such as daggers, swords and maces. Shields won't be used. I'll use a bow for this character for as long as I see fit, but I'll probably get rid of it at some point.
2: The Sentinels don't seem to do much besides look around blindly, so I gave them a stronger purpose for them being there.
3: I don't have a clue on how I can put in the Costume system, so I'm giving the costume in early since I got it early and am making it an actual armor. I'll probably use my "Oblivion Bags" in order to do somewhat of an Inventory system for foraging and the like.
4: "Nyao Dracona" in English, is the "Ninth Dragon", a special branch of CQC magic fighting where Draconic Magic is sent to the limbs, making each attack even worse to the victim as the searing flame can leave smoldering after effects. One of the Ancient Twelve Dragon Arts that is only taught through special Dragonknight training in the Akaviri strongholds.