Disclaimer:
RWBY, by all accounts, definitely does not belong to me, and neither does Skyrim. Though Monty Oum has passed away (may the gods continue to bless his soul and sing of his praises) and Rooster Teeth have taken up the reins, he'll never be forgotten.

Author's Note 1:
Hey guys. I'm just here to let out another story out of my head. I'm sorry to disappoint if it turns out to be stupid. On the other hand, I'm also sorry that it's taking me this long to do something about my other fanfics. Sigh. But enough of that. Here's hoping you guys like this abomination I've churned out from the dark depths of depravity that is my mind. And I'm just making up this story as I go along. I'm also happy to say that if there are some things you don't understand or know about The Elder Scrolls, you will have to look them up yourself. I'm too jaded to care. On a side note... Someone help me. I don't think I know what I'm doing anymore.


OF HUNTING DRAGONS

I


"No."

A great Eye opened. It looked down slowly, and slimy tentacles lazily writhed in their masses around it.

A man looked back up to the Eye furiously. He kept his glare, even as the bright green sky above him opened to reveal more tentacles. On a potted black plateau of unknown material, there he stood. He paid no attention to the vast expanse of oily black-green water far below him, stretching as far as he could see in the fog, even as creatures far too horrifying to describe swam and lurked beneath it's depths. It was thanks to his Force of character that he hadn't gone mad in such a bizarre, alien place. A place where no man should never have set foot upon.

Apocrypha.

The realm of the Daedric Prince, Hermaeus Mora - the riddle unsolveable, the door unopenable, the book unreadable, the question unanswerable.

His self-proclaimed master.

"Hammond Hammer-Hand."

The Eye yawned. Its voice was grandfatherly, caring. It was wrong. The man's name echoed softly throughout the realm. Of it's lesser inhabitants they roared on hearing it, while those of vaguely human appearance kept silent but watched. The more monstrous of their kind simply sunk back to the waters, or bellowed enraged haunting roars as they scaled the plateau. The wind laughed, and as pages ripped from books flew into a growing hurricane, the man firmly stood his ground. His blond hair fluttered weakly in the laughter, like a forgotten and tattered flag.

"You will obey."

"I am not your servant, demon!"

A hum filled the silence as Hammond lost his Balance, seeing the world around him grow dark. Unfathomable rumbling came from below, and the whole of Apocrypha shook. Bookshelves fell, crushing the slow, and in the distance whole landscapes formed of books collapsed and remade themselves chaotically. The Eye was chuckling now; its pincers clicking as they appeared from the midst of the drifting tendrils in the air. Hammond grit his teeth and drew his axe. The way it focused on him - returning his glare - made his blood boil, and his bones ached for a fight.

"Oh, but you are."

Those words tipped the man over the edge. He growled, swinging his axe as the first wave of tentacles tried to subdue him, to make him kneel before the Eye. Five of them met the ground, only to melt into ichor-ink as slick as blood, and countless more erupted from their stumps. One tied itself around his leg, and he hacked it off, but soon the numbers overwhelmed him. Even so, he struggled and thrashed against his living bindings. In but a moment, his axe was ripped away from his grip, a pincer shattering it's blade and a tentacle crushing his old friend's remains.

Hammond didn't scream for mercy, then, not even when a pincer bit into his neck and lifted him up high in the sky for all to jeer at, and not even when the pain darkened his vision.

He would not show weakness. He was a proud Nord, and he strived to die like one, dying in a most horrible manner be damned. He would never submit to the demonic being before him.

"As I have said before, I have a... daunting... task for you." The Eye whispered, its soothing tone a blatant lie in the light of what it just did. "You will be richly... rewarded."

The man's steel blue eyes narrowed further, and the pincer which held him aloft loosened just enough to stop biting into his neck. Though, the wounds it left remained, and the blood that leaked from them had already stained the tunic he wore underneath his armor of steel. Hammond had enough strength of mind to will himself into staying conscious and listen to his captor, not that he had a choice. With Hermaeus Mora being the lord of Apocrypha, time meant nothing to the Daedric Prince. He would be tortured to death, and it was not an honorable way to die.

He had no choice but to listen. But he did not like how the Eye gazing back at him looked pleased at his apparent submission.

"I will be sending you to another world." Hammond could feel the smirk. "This world... has secrets I want."

The man spat out his blood. He knew what Hermaeus Mora meant by that. He would act as his unwitting agent once again, and somewhere down the line someone will die because of him. Storn Crag-Strider's death was one thing, but the deaths of innocents from another world? He felt disgust for himself, and at the being whose will he was forced to carry out. Soon after, sorrow replaced both. Deep down, he knew, there was nothing he could do for whoever the demon wanted to kill for whatever knowledge they kept secret to themselves. And it was all too damning.

The Eye laughed at his feeble display of defiance. Its voice, once kindly, turned deep and ominous as the skies rippled, the thin veil of what barely passed as reality allowing Hammond to see Apocrypha for what it truly was, beyond the books, beyond it's monstrous inhabitants, and beyond the dark promises of forbidden knowledge kept in the realm's unending rows of bookshelves. He almost lost his sanity - just one more Push, and he would have become a madman, lost in the recesses of his fractured mind had he not closed his eyes and thought of his dear family.

"What kind of secrets?" He hoarsely grumbled, the remaining blood in his throat and the pincer holding him high making it difficult to speak. He still kept his eyes closed. "What must I do?"

Hermaeus Mora chuckled again. "Good. You are learning your place."

The Daedric Prince withdrew its visage. The man before it had been cowed enough, and thus was let go. He fell feet first. At least he had landed on them, and his boots had cushioned the fall into something that he could tolerate. The wind blew harsh, and suddenly the air felt colder, fresher than before. Gone were the sounds of monsters. When the Nord opened his eyes, he saw not Apocrypha, but a beautiful autumn forest cast in darkness - it was night-time, wherever he was. It reminded him of the trees around Riften, their leaves ever golden, ever falling.

The Gardener of Men was still there though - a mass of tentacles, pincers, and Eye writhing above him.

"Beautiful, is it not?"

Hammond looked around, weary. Not even insects dared to make a sound in the presence of an otherworldly being, and nor did any nocturnal animal dare to make itself known to it. Then he happened to look up, and saw a broken moon hung low in the sky. He raised an eyebrow. What happened to it? But, it was nothing compared to the things he's seen back home. Auroras shimmering in the starry night skies tended to raise one's standards overtly higher than expected, not to mention the other magnificent sights he'd been treated to in the years past.

Tamriel was a beautiful place after all, despite all it's faults.

"Where... where are we?" He asked; the silence was deafening, unsettling. He didn't like it. "It doesn't feel like we're in Skyrim. Are we in this world which you've spoken of, demon?"

"Yes." The Prince purred. "Welcome to Remnant, my servant."

The blond barbarian's eyebrow twitched, but he let it slide. He had far more things to worry about right now. Namely, what does he need to do to get back home as quickly as possible?

"Listen well. Follow the path ahead. You will reach a place called Vale. There, look for a man named Junior - ask around if you need to. He will help you on your... task."

"... Fine!" The Nord snapped. "I'll do just that. But I know nothing of this world and of it's people."

"Oh, you will learn more about both soon enough." The Keeper of Knowledge contentedly hummed. "Especially when it's people sees you."

He glared up. "What in the names of the Gods do you mean by that, demon?"

"You will know, in time. You will know." Hermaeus Mora yawned. "And so, heed my parting words, mortal... This world is drenched in blood and hatred. You must do well to live."

And with the vanishing of the writhing mass of boneless limbs, of delving pincers, of gnashing blades and of prying orbs did the Daedric Prince take its leave.

Hammond stood alone under the moonlit autumn forest. He heaved out a tired, long-suffering sigh, and paused as he heard life return to the forest - the insects playing their songs, and the animals hunting or foraging in the dark. With the oppressive presence of the demon gone, he was much calmer now, and being calm meant he had a better sense of clarity with him. He felt different, somehow, but he couldn't tell what was different with himself. He could only hope whatever manner of malevolent magic the demon had inflicted on him, it's effects were temporary.

"Damn," He cursed under his breath. "I forgot... that bastard broke my axe. I'd better make do with my spells then."

Another sigh, and he rolled his shoulders. He turned to face the path which he was told to follow.

"The sooner this is done with, the better. Lydia and the children must be wondering where I am right now..."

The hungry howls of distant wolves followed in his wake.


OF HUNTING DRAGONS

I

-END-


Author's Note 2:
Woah... that was different. Just what is wrong with me these days? I gotta lay off the meds sometime. Man. Anyways, here's hoping that you liked this trainwreck of a fanfic. There's more chapters coming. Hopefully, if I don't lose interest that is. Until next time readers, or never again. Oh yeah, you may have noticed something off with my writing here... if not, then you're probably fine. If you did, you might want to talk to someone about it. Now enough ramblings from me. See you later.