Small note: For obvious reasons, the number of people in Solitude has been highly raised.
I recline in my throne, reaching out and stroking my newest monster's cheek. Her ear flicks at my touch, but she neither leans in nor backs away. At this point my petting is tolerated, like a mother who hugs a child that dislikes being touched. In time her mind will settle into her body more, and she'll fully accept me as her mistress. But right now she's still confused about the world, her soul still brushing the place of the dead. A rusted door creaks open, and one of my vampire servants rushes up to me. He nervously swallows and announces, "The troops are ready, what do you wish to do?".
I remove my hand from the Khajiit's face and tell the man, "Slaughter the guards, soldiers, and anyone in my keep. Secure the city and call for me when it's safe.". He nods and quickly leaves my presence. After about half an hour, the sounds of battle begin to shake the roof. My bodyguard tenses, draws her weapon, and begins to look for an enemy. I sigh and reach out, nearly losing a hand. I snarl, instantly reaching out and smacking the woman on the nose like she's a dog. Certain members of the living dead are as intelligent as humans, but some need to be trained like beasts. It's clear the woman fits in the second group. The sounds slowly die away, and my thrall returns to her normal position. A few minutes later the vampire returns, a smirk on his face.
He happily announces, "The city is ours!". I smile and stand, but my thrall surprises me by asking, "Is the false queen dead?". I turn and see her milky eyes trained on the vampire, her face uncaring and rigid. I'll have to discipline her later, free thinking isn't what thralls are for. I wait for my vampire to confirm Elisif's death, but he remains silent. I turn to him and growl, "Well?!". He swallows and says, "Well, she might have escaped, but it wasn't-". I cut him off by roaring, "Failure!". He instantly falls to his knees and grovels, "We tried to slay her, but they were prepared for an attack! It's this damned war-". He can't finish speaking as I yell, "Khajiit!".
Our shared anger and disappointment fuels her, her sword cutting the man nearly in two from his shoulder to hip. He screams in agony for a brief time, his organs spilling out of his body. I walk over to my thrall, her weapon already put up. I put my hand on her shoulder and congratulate her, "Well done!". She sensed the man's disloyalty and failure when I myself couldn't. Not to mention, her swordsmanship isn't half bad. I pat the woman's shoulder and begin to leave, the Khajiit instinctively following me. I slowly make my way to the surface, a little apprehensive after being underground for so long. However, I quickly get over it and open the doors to the surface world. The light washes over me and I sigh in pleasure.
My thrall blinks in the sunlight, cringing. I smack her on the shoulder and motion for her to put her helm on. She quickly takes the helmet from her belt, placing it over her head so nobody can see her. A few citizens are stumbling down a path, one of them clearly injured. They're both Altmer, and bear a close resemblance to one another. The uninjured one sees me and freezes, the injured one heavily leaning on the other. The wound on the Altmer is serious, blood gushing from a large slash on her leg. I consider killing them for my army, but I need citizens also. So, I simply walk around them.
The uninjured one watches me constantly, but drags her wounded friend away the moment I'm passed. I scoff and say, "Mortals.". My thrall nods, never one to disagree. My palace awaits me, bigger than I remember. That's only to be expected, palaces tend to grow in a hundred or so years. The courtyard is piled high with bodies, but all of them appear to be guards. I open the door and go inside, more dead guards greeting me. It looks like my army has a few more members. I'll revive them later, it doesn't take long. But instead of doing it carefully like the Khajiit, I'll do a simple spell to make them zombies. The Khajiit is a rare case, her soul and body completely reunited. The guards will only have a fragment of their soul, just enough to get them moving and loyal.
I walk up the stairs and see ten dragur waiting for me, standing in two lines leading to my throne. I stand there in awe and pleasant shock, thrilled at being back to ruling Skyrim. Of course, I'm still not officially the queen. A seat doesn't make a ruler, conquest does. I'll need to grow my army before I launch my attack on Hjaalmarch (the nearest hold), but everything will work out. One day I'll be the true queen of Skyrim, and then I'll move on to becoming the Empress of Tamriel. I slowly sit down upon the seat of my ancestors, my bodyguard moving the stand beside my seat. Another vampire makes his way up to me, kneeling and bowing his head.
I flick my wrist and say, "Rise.". The man slowly gets up, eyeing my newest servant. He clears his throat and reports, "Fifty guards were killed, three citizens lie dead, and over a hundred horses had their throats slit before they could leave the stables.". I nod in approval and ask, "How many escaped.". He shuffles his feet as he answers, "We had to count from a distance, so the numbers might not be accurate. Twenty eight guards, eighty citizens, and twenty horses.". Impressive, I didn't think we could get that many. However, I still tell the man, "Have some raiders follow them, harass them, and kill as many as you can. Preferably kill the queen.". The general of my army bows and quickly leaves.
I sit in my throne for a few moments, but quickly bore and rise. I make my way around the palace, memorizing every corridor and room the place has to offer. A lot has changed since I lived here, and I need to become reacquainted with this place. I check a few of the secret passages out of the city, but only one is still there. Thankfully, it's what appears to be in the queen's room. Right beneath her bed, a hefty stone over it. I move the stone and bed back, the secret tunnel once again hidden. I look out my window, drumming my fingers against the window ledge. I sigh, and hear my bodyguard sitting down.
I snap my fingers and she stands, but her sitting isn't a good sign. She shouldn't be making decisions for herself, or even thinking about making a decision without asking for my permission. I motion for her to walk over to me, and notice something crawling on her neck. I peel back her fur and see a beetle crawling along her skin, and as I watch it opens its jaws to chomp down on its meal. I crush the bug with my thumb, rubbing the guts on the woman's fur. I suddenly smell the Khajiit's scent. She reeks of rot and decay, like a corpse that's been sitting in the sun for a week. I'm not sure how she got to smelling that way, she's only been dead for a few hours. Besides, I haven't allowed her to be in the sun for more than a few minutes.
I sigh and realize what I have to do, I need to treat her body. When my citizens come to see my I want them to fear my dragur, but marvel and be jealous of my closest servant. My dragurs' disgusting appearance serves a purpose, to frighten those who oppose me. But I want my bodyguard to appear stronger and healthy for a multitude of reasons. My vanity for one, I want them to look at my servant and be green with envy that she's on my side. To confuse those who are on the fence about following me is another. If they saw a rotting corpse protecting me they would know I was the 'bad' guy, but a healthy spry Khajiit would confuse them because they wouldn't understand why a healthy woman would work with me.
And, surely a woman like that wouldn't work for someone who's evil. The third reason is I want the woman to be known as the Dovahkiin, so the world can marvel and be confused at why she's guarding me. The final reason is purely for protection. If an assassin sees a rotten corpse is my only bodyguard they'd attack in an instant, but they're more wary of a healthy warrior. And, a shambling corpse can't really protect me. At least, not as good as a healthy corpse. My inner thoughts are interrupted by another beetle running over my hand, and I quickly squish him. Damn, I need to stop thinking and begin treating the Khajiit's body.
I yell for a servant, and when she appears I give her specific instructions on drawing a bath. While she gets the tub, water, and soap, I grab a brush and strip my Khajiit of her armor. I slowly brush her fur, killing any bugs or vermin I run across. The tomb we were in was filthy, so it's no surprise more than a few bugs managed to get on her. I make sure to untangle all of her hair, she's unable to grow any back. It takes a while, but eventually her cinnamon colored fur is all straight and her skin is free of vermin. The servant has just finished drawing the bath. She scuttles away when I go over to examine her work.
The water is burning hot, but that doesn't matter to my thrall. Her sense of pain is highly dulled, so she won't mind in the least. Besides, it'll make cleaning her easier. I snap my fingers and point at the tub, my bodyguard instantly climbing in and sitting down. I make my way over to her, stopping to grab a rag and cup as I go. I pour water over the woman's head, waiting until all of her body is wet. Then, I begin bathing her like I did my son when he was a child. My thrall doesn't mind at all, watching me with awe and joy in her eyes. It obviously pleases her to have her maker so near her, and taking care of her. I ignore her feelings and resume cleaning her. I have a lot of work to do.
Elisif POV:
My horse pants as I force him to go faster. Sybille and Falk are at my side, our guards are surrounding us, and our band of men and women are trailing behind us. I still can't believe what's happening. A force of dragur, vampires, and zombies overtook the city without warning. We aren't sure where they came from, but they came by the dozens. The spared the citizens, but any guard or servant was slaughtered on sight. It was all I could do to get my court out using the secret passage under my bed. And, I'm glad my citizens and men had the common sense to come to the palace. It made evacuation easier, but we couldn't get everyone out.
That's what worries me the most. It's getting dark, and Legate Rikke demands we all halt for the night. That woman has been a gift from the gods. Organizing everyone, keeping calm, and repelling the occasional band of dragur that come to harass us. When everyone is settled I ask Rikke, "Casualties?". The woman shakes her head, and I notice it looks like she's been crying recently. She manages to gasp, "I don't know. Tullius...". I pat her on the shoulder and tell her, "Go, rest.". She nods and flees, but I can swear I hear her hiccup. I groan and sit with Sybille and Falk, but suddenly a scout rushes up to us. I stand and ask, "What?!". He's gasping and Sybille growls, "Spit it out!". The scout looks ready to faint. Falk roars, "SPEAK!". The man manages to gasp one word before passing out. One word that changes everything. "Potema.".
Note: I'm sorry about the longer than normal wait, preparations for Día de Muertos took longer than I thought they would. I promise the next chapter will be out faster than normal.
