Alright. Here's chapter 2. We decided to have an idea and switch their POV's back and forth. Sometimes it will be two chapters with Ras'Nae and two with Diablos, etcetera. It depends on how much time the hubby has to help. He basically wrote this chapter, and I'm spicing it up a bit. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

All credits go to the creators of Skyrim, for without them we wouldn't have our two fiends. Ras'Nae and Diablos are our own characters in a sense, so we credit ourselves to them.

Rated MA for violence, language, gore, and sexual content.

=====}==o ..:::Chapter 2: Diablos:::.. o==={====

I'm tired of this. I just killed the fifth or sixth assassin. I've fucking lost count and really, it's getting old. After this one, I decided I'd piss off the infamous Listener and leave a note in the little elf's body. How easy this one had been to kill, almost too easy. It was like killing a child. Fucking insulting. The little twit, not knowing who the hell I was, actually came up to me and asked if she could find Diablos the Orc. Like I'm not a fucking beacon as it is. I laughed in her face. She was clearly confused, but obviously stupid as a goat. Not only was I wearing my General StormCloak armor, Wuuthrad was strapped across my back. There isn't another War Axe like it. To add to it, I had a crowd of drunken soldiers around me, singing of my victories, clasping my arm, and telling me how ruthless I was. How much more obvious could it be that I was Diablos, Leader of the Companions, General of the StormCloak army, breaker of hearts and necks.

I gave the little elf the sweetest of smiles that an Orc like myself could manage. This only confused her more. Slowly, I pulled my Orcish dagger from my hip and held it up. Ah, how the fire light caught it nicely. Alarm crossed her face now. Why would this big, hulking Orc pull a dagger? It was then I could see that it finally crossed her walnut sized brain who I was. Laughing dementedly, I sliced her neck then. The soldiers around me jumped back, cursing and then laughing. Her face was euphoric to me. The horror. The astonishment. Maybe even a little betrayal? Ha ha ha! Who knew, and who cared? I did a little fancy blade work then, since she seemed to want to stand there, her head about to fall off. Across her chest my blade went, like a hot knife through butter. Another flick of the blade and her bowels spilled out. Still, the little sack of meat wouldn't fall. I lifted up my heavy boot and kicked her back. She landed a couple of yards away with a satisfactory crunch! Ah, how I love that sound. My men laughed, and I laughed with them. Blood covered my armor and the fire caught it nicely. Beautiful, I would say. Still laughing, I called for a piece of paper and charcoal, and scratched out in my scraggly handwriting:

"Try again, Listener."

Then, using the same blade I had killed her with, I stabbed the note to her chest, right above her breast, in her heart. Flipping a young soldier a gold Septim, I pointed to the body. "Take her Northwest of here where she'll be found by the scum who sent her. Oh, and careful not to knock that dagger out. It's a gift for the Listener." I boomed with laughter then as the boy paled a little at his task. However, he dare not defy me and lifted up the body onto the nearest horse, setting off quickly less I give another gruesome task. I walked back over to the fire and grabbed my mighty tankard of mead.

"To blood, guts, and glory, mates! May the Devine look down upon us and tell us to stay the hell away!"

To drunk to really care what I was saying, the men roared in drunken cheer and we downed the mead.

The next morning, my men awoke groaning of headaches and aching bellies. I woke feeling refreshed and rejuvenated to say the least. Kicking the little whore from my bedroll, I stood in the camp in nothing but my loincloth. I often liked to show my power and brawn in the morning. I felt it encouraged my men…or frightened them! Breathing in the morning air, I noticed a carrier stepping up timidly to me. He looked as afraid as a bunny is of a fox. I chuckled.

"What is it, boy? Stare at me any longer and I'd think your infatuated," I roared, causing a few men to chuckle. The boy jumped almost out of his skin. "I-I have brought you a letter, s-sire."

"Have you now? Well, don't just stand there, cretin. Tell me what it says!"

"It's from Olaf, s-sire. He says I have found one of the seven Elder Scrolls. It lies within the deepest recesses of the Dwarven City, Alftand. Here are the keys to use to activate the globe. You'll know what I mean. Beware. There are still Dwarven guards roaming the halls. Be safe, my friend, and may you return successful!"

I took the keys from the boy as he removed them from his knapsack. Odd little things they were. Different shapes and such. Looking back at the boy, I laughed once more. "Olaf has always been such a long winded fellow! Anyhow, return to him and tell him that I'll set off immediately for said scroll. Grab yourself a bite to eat, lad, and then leave." I gave him two Septims for his trouble and then returned to my tent for my armor. A couple of my men came up to the tent. "What is it," I asked as I buckled the many pieces of the Dragonplate Armor.

"We'd like to come with you to Alftand, General."

I laughed and looked at them. "Why would I want a bunch of muttonchops following me in a Dwarven city, full of traps and what-nots? You'd probably get in the way, and then I'd have your blood on my hands. Ulfric isn't fond of me killing my men, no matter the cause." They seemed a little crest-fallen at my words, and I sighed.

"I know you would like to come, to have my back, but it will be much easier if I go by myself. I'd like to just go in, grab the Scroll, and come out. Easy as pie. It wouldn't settle in my belly well if something happened to any of you. You'll have your chance to fight with me someday. Don't worry."

I clasped one of the men on the shoulder, and they seemed to brighten up. They left and I continued my task. The lazy Nord woman hadn't gotten out of my bedroll yet, so I kicked her gently enough. Once she stopped bitching and grumbling, I had her help me with my armor. Once dressed, I returned to the middle of the camp. I looked at my men and said," stand back!"

Looking up to the sky, I used my Shout, calling "Snow Hunter Wing", I summoned Odahviing. The dragon's roar rang out over the horizon. Instantly, my men took up arms, thinking we were under attack. I raised my hand and then brought it down. Tentatively, they lowered their weapons. I smiled. Even though I had killed many dragons over the past few years, Odahviing had proven to be a close friend and advisor. After he circled around for a few times, he lowered to the ground. It shook as the huge dragon landed. Striding out of the camp, I walked up to the golden giant beast. He lowered his massive head and looked at me with one large eye.

"You have summoned me, Dovaking?"

"Yes. It seems my friend has found an Elder Scroll in Alftand."

Odahviing lifted his lip in what was his version of a smile. "Ah, an Elder Scroll in a Dwarven City. How clever," he mused. "You wish to fly there instead of walk?"

I nodded. "Yes. I haven't been up in the skies lately, and I'd like to feel the clouds on my face. Is there a problem?" Odahviing let out a deep chuckle. "Not at all, Dovaking. Climb on and I will take you to Alftand."

The massive dragon knelt down, and I grabbed one of his many neck spikes, hoisting myself up onto the grove between his neck and shoulders. It was a snug fit, but my armor protected me from any stabbings. Once I was settled in, Odahviing let out a mighty roar and then leaped into the sky. My men scattered in fear. Odahviing let out a jet of flame harmlessly into the sky as he laughed. He loved to torment the men.

Once we took flight and entered the clouds, it wasn't long before we came upon some mountains. Spotting a few Frost Trolls, I grinned. Ah, what an easy target. I indicated to Odahviing to drop down. He had spotted the Frost Trolls as well, and he landed a little ways away. Climbing down from his back, Odahviing chuckled. "You can't control yourself, can you?"

"I have a little grudge against the white monkeys. I can't let any Frost Troll live." I drew Wuuthrad and began to sneak around to the Frost Trolls. They were busy picking on an Elk they had killed just recently. Unable to contain myself, I began to laugh. The Frost Trolls jumped up, beating their chests as they looked for me. I was easily spotted and I stood up straight, gripping my axe in one hand. I used my other to hit my chest.

"Come on, you skeever asses! Come at me!" They roared and began to sprint towards me. I roared back, planting my feet. The first one reached me and I blocked his thick arm as it came down on me. Twisting around, I hacked Wuuthrad into it's side. The creature bellowed out in pain, but was not dead. Tearing my axe from it's flesh, I stepped back a pace as the other Troll finally reached me. The sight of it's mate injured only infuriated the creature more. It roared in my face and then came at me in blind fury. I easily side stepped it, and slammed the spike at the top of the weapon into it's spine. It howled and tried to turn to grab me, but I chopped off it's head. A fountain of blood sprayed up and I laughed. The other injured Troll began to run as it saw it's mate die. I couldn't stop laughing. "There's no escape from death, Troll!" I then quickly drew my bow, notched an arrow, and shot the creature through the back of the head. Going to retrieve my arrow, I chuckled. The long shaft had gone through the skull and out through the top eye. There was no getting the arrow back.

"Keep it," I said to the dead beast, kicking the body. "A memento, though I doubt you'll need it in Oblivion!" After searching the Troll's nest for anything of use, I returned to Odahviing. He took one look at my blood covered armor. "Successful, I presume?"

"Hah! Of course," I said as I climbed back onto him. "Frost Trolls don't taste very good," Odahviing commented as he began to climb up the mountain a little so he could get a better take off point. "I've never had Troll meat," I said, thinking about it. "Good. It's tough and has this disgusting aftertaste, no matter how charred." I chuckled at that. "I'll take your warning." Odahviing and I laughed together for a moment, and then he found a good spot. He unfurled his wings and jumped into the sky.

Odahviing made it to Alftand in short time. He landed on the plain below. "Stay safe, Dovaking," he said before taking off again, disappearing over the mountain. I drew in a deep breath. "Smells like death," he said cheerfully. Drawing Wuuthrad, I set the head of the blade on my shoulder casually as I began to take the path up to Alftand. The entrance to the city was in my sights when I heard a cat-like roar. Looking up, a family of three snowy sabre cats climbed down from an alcove. Their reddish eyes were staring at me with an intent to kill. I grinned and wielded Wuuthrad.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty," I taunted. The largest of the cats, an old female from what I could tell, paused for a moment. Oh, was the big Orc wielding the huge axe scary? I lowered my axe and roared at them. "Come on!" This jolted the cats and they hissed. As one, they pounced on me like a mouse. Sharp claws narrowly missed my face. I took a step back. "Whoa!"

Swinging my axe down, it hit the smallest cat in the shoulder. It cried out in pain and I quickly finished it off by pulling the axe out and then hacking it into the creature's back. With their den mate disposed of, the cats were even more pissed. They came at me with a wild fury. Their claws bounced off my armor harmlessly. Eventually, the old cat pounced on me. Her weight dragged me to the ground before I could catch myself. Roaring in my face, she began to try to rip my throat out. I dug my hands into the loose skin around her neck and began to squeeze. She still continued to try and kill me until her eyes began to glaze over. Finally in desperate need for air, she climbed off me. I released her, and she began to hack and cough. Quickly grabbing my axe, I lopped off her head. It rolled in front of the last cat. It bent its head, sniffing the bloody mess. It mewed for a moment, and then it's fury returned. Roaring, it lunged. I didn't give it any chance. My axe ran across it's belly in one easy sweep. The cat still landed on me, but I was ready. I threw it to the side and recovered myself for this battle wasn't over.

Two gangly wolves crept up from the brambles, their lips pulled back in a snarl. Oh, this was going to be too easy! It took very little effort on my part to dispose of the creatures, and I finally set off into Alftand. Instantly, I was greeted by gold, gold, and more gold. Ah, this place always made me feel magnificent. "How I would kill for just one of these walls," I said as I drug a gloved hand across the gleaming metal. Thinking about building one such room in my palace located at Solitude, I walked straight into a trap. I heard it trigger and cursed. Four Falmer came running up. One archer, two swordsman, and a shadowmaster. Ugly creatures, Falmer were. I never had liked them. They were disgusting but still had humanistic features that made them too fucking familiar. The archer loosed an arrow, and it bounced off my armor. I laughed. Wielding my axe, it took me a hot minute to dispose of the filthy creatures. One actually even managed to cut me on the wrist where my armor stopped. I sliced him up nicely. At least…I think it was male. I could never tell with these monsters.

Wiping blood from my eyes, I continued along the way. Occasionally, I was confronted by Dwarven contraptions like Spiders and Spheres. Nothing too difficult. Making it to a long corridor with small hallways branching off of it, I stepped carefully. I could feel a trap brewing in this area. Once I reached the middle of the corridor, I relaxed. That was my first mistake. Two Dwarven Centurions lumbered out of the hallways, steam bellowing from them. Unlike animals and creatures, the Centurions weren't calculating. They used their brute force. However, that was my specialty. I used a strong power attack on the first Centurion, disposing it in one hit. Sometimes, my enemies fell too easily. Sometimes, I hardly ever got joy in killing. The second Centurion provided me with a little amusement. The huge automaton managed to knock me back into a wall. I lost my breath, but recovered quickly. I could feel where a bruise would form on my chest. It had been a while since I received one of those. Laughing, I began to hack at the Centurion. It took me seven hits, but finally I was able to dispose of it.

Now, this is where I made my second mistake. Not surveying my surroundings. The Centurion hadn't even hit the ground when an arrow shot out. It scratched my neck, but the amount of blood that poured from the wound was astonishing. I clasped my hand to the wound, thinking my throat had been sliced. Dropping to one knee, I looked up to see who had shot me. As I did, however, I felt a strange sensation course through my body. Fuck. Poison, but it didn't feel like poison. Instead, my body felt like it was locking up. Ah, I had been paralyzed. Who would want me alive? Who was so stupid as to not kill me. The answer surprised me.

A lithe figure stepped out from around the corner of the corridor. It wore all black armor, and I could not see it's face. A long, ebony bow with strange markings was in it's hand. As the figure stepped forward, I could see a fluffy tail underneath the black cape. It pulled it's hood off, and if I could laugh, I would've. A Khajit, and not just any Khajit. I knew who she was instantly. The Listener. Finally, she had found me. Finally, she had come for her revenge. I stared at her as my body slumped over. Well, was this it? After all the battles I had been in, all the people I had killed, was this finally it? Was a little chicken-heart assassin going to kill me? Was the mighty Diablos going to fall because a Khajit drew a blade across his throat? It humored me actually.

She then crouched over me, a dagger in her hand. Here it came. This was it. She had paralyzed me so I couldn't fight back. What a milk drinker. I smiled mentally. I was prepared to die. Let Sithis take me so I could kill him as well. I waited for the sting of the blade. Seconds ticked by. What was taking the bitch so long? Focusing back on her, I could see she was struggling. Why was she struggling? Before I could ponder it longer, she tore of my helm and hit me on the temple. Stars lit up my vision, but I was still awake. Damn, did that bloody hurt! She hit me two more times and then finally, the pain went away and everything faded into black…

o==={====

That's the end of Chapter 2. My husband really enjoyed doing Diablos' POV, and I'll have to admit that I enjoyed it as well. Let us know how you liked it. For a little fun, tell us who your favorite character is thus far. We're open to any kind of comment or idea, so please, don't hesitate! Don't forget to click that review button! J