DESTINY
So follows the beginning of the saga of the Dovahkiin in Thedas.
The Darkspawn will be even darker and more sinister in this fic than in the games. They will do things in this fic that Bioware itself had not dared to include into the games. This is just an advance warning.
Words in the Dragon language, including Shouts, will be BOLD. Words used in Shouts will be capitalized, but those used in conversation will not. The only word that will not be bold is 'Dovahkiin', since it will be used very often in this fic.
Also, Neranya will wear a set of 'Nightingale Robes', which (as far as I know) do not exist, even as a mod. If it does, let me know so I can download it ;P
Even though Neranya is about 40 years old in this fic; due to her being a High Elf, she ages much more slowly than humans. Therefore, she appears to be in her 20's.
5/9 Edit: Not many changes will occur here, except the part where Neranya meets the Warden recruits in the Wilds.
CHAPTER ONE: THE TIME-WOUND
During one rainy night in Whiterun, Neranya tossed about in her bed. Lately, over the last several days she had been troubled by strange dreams.
Dreams depicting great realms of Men, cities glittering in the radiant sun, people moving this way and that. However, a shadow loomed over them all. This shadow eventually engulfed each city, one at a time, and left foul corruption and death in its wake. The putrid stench of this wicked pestilence was worse than anything she had smelled before.
The shadow now loomed over a great city of Men, sitting resplendent upon a hillside with a great fortress towering over all. As the shadow closed in, she saw a great dragon flying toward the city with a vast, ghastly horde of vile monsters marching under it.
Her dream instantly changed to show a handsome-looking man clad in radiant silver armor; and he wielded a majestic cyan greatsword that seemed to glitter like ice. Her viewpoint retreated to show this man who stood there, grim and expectant, among many valiant defenders. They all silently awaited the onslaught of the massive hosts of vile creatures coming against them.
The corruption that this grim host exuded quickly cast a fell shadow upon her spirit, so that it was now cold as death. Suddenly the vision became blank and all became void.
Now she found herself in the dark depths of the earth. Around her were endless hordes of the same creatures, ever digging.
Digging... and whispering in her mind. "Must dig. Must dig. Must free old ones. Must return to surface and kill and eat 'til all the world falls into Blight Unending..."
She too felt compelled to join the creatures in their digging, as if some unseen force had set its malevolent will upon her. Even with all the resistance she could bring to bear, she still felt herself giving into the relentless urge to join the dark creatures in their mission. To free the old ones... To dig...
She woke up with a start. That dream seemed all too real, and it was as if she were actually there. Surely it can't be...
Neranya quickly got up out of bed and grabbed her enchanted Dragonbone dagger that was hidden under the pillow. The blade, carved from the bones of a hundred dragons, thirsted for the blood of any foe it touched. This thirst was constant and unyielding and when it devoured the essence of a target, it also tormented its spirit with a fell flame. Once the target died, its soul would be harvested by the dagger.
It was a wicked blade, the epitome of her talent at enchantment. Its name was Altraxes, the Blade of the Silent Void.
She donned her custom-made Nightingale Robes over the grey robe she currently wore. The Nightingale Robes were created with the help of Karliah, and then they were woven with a series of enchantments: such as a muffle effect, reduced magicka demands for Illusion and Destruction spells, and increased strength.
Even though Neranya specialized in the schools of Illusion and Destruction, she also possessed much skill in the other disciplines. She did not favor Conjuration however, as the notion of summoning and binding Daedra to her will did not appeal to her nature, and it also reminded her of the old life among the Thalmor. Necromancy also disgusted her, so she made it a point to kill Necromancers wherever they were found, often without mercy.
Once Neranya had kitted out with her chosen equipment, she walked into the common room of her modest Breezehome dwelling. When her gaze rested upon the table in the center of the room, she gave a gasp of surprise. Laying upon the table was a golden cylinder that seemed to glow with a peculiar light from within. It can't be...
Neranya strode over to the table and picked up the cylinder, wondering how it wound up here of all places. Instantly she remembered Paarthurnax's words regarding the Kelle – the Elder Scrolls – existing outside of creation, and thus were they not bound to the laws and constants of Mundus. They could manifest themselves seemingly at random, at any time. Anywhere.
Wondering if the golden cylinder was what she thought it was, she opened the tab that was on its side and pulled out the black parchment. Indeed it was an Elder Scroll!
The ethereal Scroll seemed to pulse with its own faint light, and she instantly felt compelled to look at it. At first, the Scroll showed a confusing array of constellation-like figures and unintelligible symbols. But as she looked upon the scroll, her mind was soon wracked by a vision of a mountaintop, high above the World itself, where time itself seemed to stretch and distort toward its breaking point...
Of course! The Time-Wound! The Scroll was leading her. Perhaps it has something to do with my dreams.
Neranya quickly rolled up the Scroll and stuffed it into her pack. She also grabbed some food and waterskins. The journey to the Throat of the World she had taken many times, but it still would take three days to get there on horseback. However, she desired to find the answer for why those strange dreams kept plaguing her mind.
With one last sigh, she slung the pack over her shoulder and walked out the door. She was oblivious as to just how much her life would change in the coming days.
-ooo-ooo-
Neranya's journey to the Throat of the World was largely uneventful, aside from the occasional bandit who was unfortunate enough to cross her path and a dragon that swiftly met its end from her powerful spells.
Out of all the Destruction spell elements, Neranya was quite partial to lightning. The primal force of lightning found little resistance in virtually any foe she met, and the visceral effects of thousands of amperes of electricity coursing through such foes were very gratifying. This did not mean that she neglected the other elements, as they each had their uses as well.
Eventually Neranya arrived in Ivarstead, the sleepy little village right at the foot of the Throat of the World. The only economic activity – besides farming – the town sees is from pilgrims preparing to ascend the 7,000 Steps to High Hrothgar, high upon the slopes of the sacred mountain.
The townspeople recognized her and waved, but she did not respond. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of the Elder Scroll and whatever connection it may have to her dreams. At any rate she would find out soon.
Without saying a single word to anyone, Neranya dismounted Shadowmere and started up the long Steps.
Not even ten minutes passed since she had begun to ascend the Steps that she was accosted by a scrawny wolf. Its eyes blazed with hunger, but Neranya did not intend on satisfying its urge. Without further hesitation, she quickly charged up and released a huge bolt of lightning out of her hand at the hapless animal. The scrawny wolf yelped in pain as it was electrocuted by her Thunderbolt spell.
Its smoldering body then rolled off the cliff and splashed into the river below. The acrid scent of fried flesh and burnt fur lingered in the air as she continued on up the hill. She knew she could have used the Kyne's Peace Shout to placate the animal, but this time she did not deign to use it.
To her surprise, she met no further resistance from any creatures on the Steps. The Frost Troll that lived on the mountain had met its end long ago when she made her first journey up the mountain.
After a few hours' journey up the Steps, the imposing facade of High Hrothgar came into view. It looked every bit as ancient and awe-inspiring as it did when she first laid eyes upon it.
Neranya walked up to the great door and pushed it open. As she entered the main chamber, she noticed that all four of the Greybeards were all meditating in silence. After a moment, one arose and slowly walked toward her.
"Ah, Dragonborn. It has been overlong since the last time you were here," the wizened hermit spoke with a soft voice. "What can we help you with?"
Neranya took the Elder Scroll out of her pack and presented it to the old man. "This mysteriously appeared a few days ago in my home. It's an Elder–"
"An Elder Scroll!" the old man exclaimed as he stepped back in awe, "Such is the destiny of the Dragonborn that an Elder Scroll would appear to one of its own accord!"
"Master Arngeir..." Neranya's voice became soft. "I wish to see Paarthurnax."
"You should know by now that you are not required to ask us for permission."
Neranya looked downcast for a moment. "I realize that, but after the situation with the Blades... I just feel I have to ask."
"But of course, Dovahkiin." Arngeir stepped aside. "Do not let us stop you."
Neranya thanked Arngeir and continued on toward the large doors on the opposite side of the room. She pushed them open and walked up to the great archway that designated the start of the forlorn trail that wound up the Mountain toward Paarthurnax's eyrie.
She drew in a long breath...
LOK VAH KOOR
The force of her Shout caused the thick mist and icy clouds to disperse and withdraw from the mountainside, thus exposing the trail. The overcast sky cleared up as well, since the Clear Skies Shout also had an effect on the weather. She promptly continued along the trail, occasionally repeating that Shout to clear away the obscuring mist if it became heavy.
Along the way up, she spotted an Ice Wraith floating there, seemingly oblivious to her presence. She readied a fire spell in her right hand, anticipating the creature's attack. A moment later the creature noticed her and began to rush toward her. In response to the creature's perceived attack, Neranya charged up a Fireball spell and released it...
The doomed Ice Wraith was soon engulfed by the explosion from Neranya's powerful Fireball spell, and when the smoke and flames cleared nothing remained of the creature.
The rest of Neranya's journey up the mountain trail was uneventful, save for the howling of the wind and the unusual coldness of the mountaintop. Even though it was now winter, the unusually cold temperatures still bothered her slightly. However she had more important things to do.
When Neranya rounded the corner, she saw the Word Wall where Paarthurnax had taught her the first Word of the Fire Breath Shout – YOL. Perched upon the Word Wall was the pale golden dragon himself – Paarthurnax.
The old dragon noticed the elf and watched as she drew near. "Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, Dovahkiin..." Suddenly the old dragon reared as he was about to Shout. An intense wave of fire burst forth from his mouth and headed right for Neranya...
To any outside observer, it would have appeared that Neranya would be incinerated by the intense dragonfire. However, it was merely a greeting between one dragon to another.
When the fire abated, Neranya stood adamant with no sign of any burns on her body. She glared at Paarthurnax and prepared to Shout...
YOL TOOR SHUL
An intense blast of fire burst forth from Neranya's mouth and bathed the dragon with great heat, as if the sun itself was pulled down to Skyrim...
When the flames cleared, Paarthurnax spoke once more, "Surely the power of your Thu'um is as of the winds of a storm. Strong and forceful."
Neranya smiled at the old dragon. "It is good to see you too Paarthurnax. How are you doing in these blessed days?"
"These days have been uneventful as of late. Indeed I spend these days flying about the world and gazing upon the wondrous cities of the Joore – mortals." Paarthurnax looked toward the sky in thought. "Truly you could say that I am... bored."
"I could imagine, my friend..." Neranya now became serious. "However, there is a matter that I require help with."
Paarthurnax's attention now focused upon Neranya's pack, which contained the Elder Scroll. "I sensed the Kel – the Elder Scroll – since before you've even set foot upon the Steps." The old dragon visibly relaxed in his posture. "Krosis, I digress. You wish to know why the Elder Scrollhas manifested itself before you?"
"Yes." Neranya answered plainly.
"You should know the answer already, Dovahkiin." Paarthurnax mused. "The reason for the manifestation of the Elder Scrollbefore you was not at random. There's always a purpose behind every action, particularly with that of the Elder Scrolls."
Neranya now looked distraught. "Lately I have been having strange dreams of a world under threat by an evil far worse than Alduin."
"I also have shared your visions, Dovahkiin." Neranya gave a look of shock at Paarthurnax's revelation. "In my slumber, I too have gazed upon this world; and also have I beheld this great Shadow that is born of the corruption of the Joore."
"So you've experienced it too?"
"Indeed I have, and the mere thought of it darkens my Zii – spirit." The old dragon turned his head toward the Word Wall. "The Tiid-Ahraan is as turbulent as the Strunne that rage unceasingly upon the slopes of this mountain."
As if in reaction to his words, the Time-Wound that was ever present began to rage like a maelstrom.
Paarthurnax continued, "Surely the Tiid-Ahraan rages ever so. Especially now that an Elder Scroll draws near."
Neranya walked up to the Time-Wound and slowly drew the Elder Scroll from her pack. In response to the Scroll's presence, the tear contorted and the sound of thunder was heard. Suddenly slivers of the other world could be seen within the distortion. They appeared to depict some type of a great swamp surrounded by jagged mountainous peaks.
She hesitated for a minute before she opened the Scroll and held it aloft. For a second the Scroll did not seem to react to the Time-Wound, but then it suddenly began to glow with a brilliant light. The Scroll also tore itself out of her hands and floated there in the middle of the swirling maelstrom.
Paarthurnax managed to get some last words in. "Listen well, Dovahkiin. Let your Voice show you the way, and you shall return. May your enemies quake in fear before you when they taste the power of your Thu'um."
The light grew to a blinding intensity and the other world was now plainly visible to Neranya. She felt herself being drawn toward it as if it were sucking her in.
She noticed that the other world grew larger and larger until it replaced that of Tamriel altogether. As she was being drawn in, she swore she had heard Paarthurnax's voice telling her, "Be safe, Dovahkiin."
Suddenly, all became blank...
-ooo-ooo-
Hours passed until Neranya groggily awoke. She found herself lying there in the middle of the swamp with a small trickle of blood streaming forth from her forehead. I must have smacked my head on some branch or rock.
After a few minutes of laying there, she got up and surveyed her surroundings. The swamp she was now in made the one that surrounded Leyawiin seem like a minor marsh in comparison. Indeed this new swamp was huge, extending as far as the mountain peaks that seemed hundreds of miles away. She briefly wondered if the humans from her dreams had their kingdoms in this desolate wasteland, but she declared that it was impossible, considering her vision.
She noticed that the Elder Scroll that brought her here had ceased to exist. The Time-Wound was also gone, so she was now here to stay.
Upon further scrutiny of the area, Neranya noticed a wispy cloud of smoke wafting into the sky off in the distance. She surmised that civilization must lay in that direction, so she began to walk towards it.
After about twenty minutes of slogging through the muddy swamp, Neranya suddenly encountered a trio of tall figures clad in strange iron armor. What was striking about them was that their skin was ruddy and mottled, and that they were bald. They brandished wicked-looking swords that appeared to be crudely forged and ill-maintained.
Not yet ready to reveal her innate arcane power or her Shouts yet, Neranya crouched and slinked through the shadows toward the figures, in order to get a closer look. Her skill at stealth was such that she could easily slip past even the most watchful of sentries almost completely unnoticed.
Upon further scrutiny of the figures, she noticed that they directly resembled the dark creatures from her dreams. Now feeling confident that they were hostiles, she quietly unsheathed her dagger and prepared a Fireball spell in her left hand. If the creatures were somehow aware of her presence, they gave no sign.
Neranya crept up to the nearest creature and plunged her wicked dagger into its back. Flames momentarily flashed over it and the dagger glowed with a faint red light as it drank of the creature's foul essence. It quickly dropped dead without a sound, but what was particularly alarming was that its blood was as black as jet and it smelled vaguely like sulfur. She made sure to keep the vile ichor from making contact with her skin and robe.
The other creatures were still unaware that one of their comrades had just been dispatched. Neranya deftly moved into position behind the second creature and readied her dagger. However, by ill chance, the creature's comrade somehow noticed her and roared with a guttural voice. Her intended target swiftly whipped around and raised its blade for the kill.
Neranya raised her left hand and charged up a Fireball spell...
But nothing happened except a feeble flash of flame. The creatures laughed in mockery at her failed spell and raised their swords. Neranya raised her dagger to block their inevitable strokes... which never came.
All of a sudden, one creature seemed to split into two pieces and the other fell with an arrow shot right through its head. They both died immediately. Neranya let her arms drop to her sides and she stared in amazement as a group of four people walked up to her.
All four were heavily armed. Two sported what looked like heavy armor and two-handed swords in their hands. The third one had a sword and a shield, along with lighter mail armor. The fourth person had a bow in hand and he was clad in what appeared to be some sort of leather armor.
The person with the sword and shield was the first to speak. "I suppose a 'thank you' is in order, eh?"
How is it that I can understand these humans?! What is going on here? Why is my magic so weak?
Neranya could only manage to respond with, "Umm, thanks..."
"No problem!" The man then looked at Neranya's robes, "Rather unusual gear for someone who is lost in the Wilds. Are you Chasind?"
Neranya cocked her head to the side. "What is 'Chasind'?"
"Never mind. Are you a mage?"
"I am."
The man visibly tensed for a moment, but he immediately relaxed again. Suddenly he changed the subject. "Well, now I suppose introductions are in order..." the man said as he put his hand to his chest, "My name is Alistair."
He then gestured at the others, "This is Daveth, Ser Jory, and..." he gestured at the handsome human with his greatsword still in hand, "Pardon me but I've already forgotten your name..."
The person in question was about to introduce himself when Neranya interrupted. "It doesn't matter. Where is the nearest town?"
However, her mind was beset by a storm of thoughts... That man. He is the one from my dreams.
Suddenly Neranya's reverie was broken when Alistair chuckled at her previous question. "Hah, there are no towns out here in the Wilds, milady. The nearest place with a modicum of 'civilization' is Ostagar."
"Where's that?"
Ser Jory butted in, "We're on our way there right now. Why don't you tag along."
"Oh, so now we're picking up every stranger we meet?" Daveth complained.
Alistair looked at the thief. "Yup. Seeing that she's neither a Darkspawn or a Chasind, we could surely use her at Ostagar." He looked back at Neranya, eagerly awaiting her answer. "That is if you want to join in on the fun."
Seeing no other choice but to join the strange humans, Neranya nodded her assent.
"Great! We leave immediately."
"I have one question to ask of you. How is it possible that you can understand me?" Neranya asked, extremely curious about what the reason might be.
Alistair turned around and gave Neranya a puzzled look. "You speak madness. You're speaking the Thedosian common language, just as well as any of us..." With that, he turned around and began to walk off. Neranya couldn't help but hear Alistair mutter another comment under his breath. "She must have hit her head harder than I thought!"
Without any further hesitation, the group of humans continued on their journey back to Ostagar. Neranya quickly fell into step behind the thief in the small party.
The Dragonborn now finds herself in Thedas, in one piece I might add! But will it stay that way, now that her magic is vastly weakened... Time will tell.
So far Alistair and co. do not yet know that Neranya is an elf; as the Nightingale Robes possess a hood and facemask, much like their light armor counterpart in the game.
Just in case any of you were wondering as to what the dagger's enchantments are; they are Absorb Health and Fiery Soul Trap.