Why, hello there, pizza guy! Nice of you to drop by again! Oh? You're not my pizza guy? Candy man? Tax collector? None of those? Well, picklesticks! Anywho, let's go over some things! Do you know about the Cthulhu mythos? Well, guess what? 'Dwemer' translates to [redacted for future use]! Pretty neat, huh? Well, that's enough jabbin' fun at the republicans for now. Let's move on to you, me, the down and dirty, and the seventh star wars movie.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls franchise or the Familiar of Zero franchise. I don't own the Beard of Zorro, either(though I wish I did).
Ulmaarmul Nehviir gazed out towards the stars for what seemed to be the five thousand and four hundredth seventeenth score since his stay in Apocrypha.
Mainly, because it was.
He had been offered the potential to know everything two hundred and forty winters ago, and he had taken the leap without hesitation.
He had yet to truly regret his decision.
He had acquired more power and wisdom then he could have comprehended or hoped for when he had struck that deal with Hermaeus Mora. He understood, truly understood Magicka, the daedra planes, the aedric planes, and even the lost Nirnly sciences the dwemer were bent on conquering.
He knew the laws that governed the planes of the realms, the voids between worlds, and what encompassed all of them. He knew what made up the fabrics of the planes, what drives mortal and immortal souls, he knew of the ways that made his destiny change, and how all of them were connected.
Whenever he learned something new, whenever he experienced a new sensation, a new feeling, he would become happy, satisfied, content, and peaceful(for a while), before his insatiable thirst for knowledge and curiosity got him asking more questions with a tranquil and ever questioning vengeance.
Hermaeus had found this behavior to be extraordinarily cute. He truly was a gift in his life, and, indeed, most of the daedra and aedra. For all of his tales of brave fights, for all of his tales of fighting through draugr hordes, and winning a drinking contest against Sanguine, there was one feat that stood above all else, a feat that rivaled the mightiest empire imaginable, something which was long believed to be impossible.
He had made the daedra and the aedra a family again.
He taught everyone the care and kindness the mortal heart was truly capable of. He pacified even the most destructive of daedra through care they had never received, and through ingenuity he made what could only normally be possible by conquering all of Tamriel, possible through more peaceful ways(though it cannot be said that anyone who was on the receiving of Molag-bal's bear hugs and noogies were to be envied, they knew it was just his way of showing affection).
Mehrunes was convinced by the aedraborn to satisfy himself to helping the morally just(by mortal standards) armies when war broke out, and to gaze upon the stars if he didn't believe destruction was happening constantly. He mostly just satisfied himself with the constant change in Tamriel, however.
Meridia accepted the undead that did not prey on the living, and . For the first time in history, Oblivion knew peace. It was awkward and shaky at first, but eventually you could see the divines eating cheese and bread with the daedric princes, cracking jokes all the while.
Ulmaarmul had grew content and happy with his new life. He had a true family, and, for the first time in his life, he felt as if he was cared about beyond killing dragons and being famed as a hero.
As if he belonged there.
He had many fond memories of his family. Hircine teaching him how to hunt in the daedra planes, Hermaeus teaching him how to find which books he wanted, Meridia praising him when he healed people and scolding him when he created thralls. It was a good life.
He remembered Hermaeus teaching him the language of "true intent". It was helpful when tracking criminals and conversing with Hermaeus. He had to practice a lot before he could speak the language to mortals without condemning another mortal to the Shivering Isles, though.
As he was sifting through his pleasant memories, he felt a disruption erupt from a planet orbiting Molag-1470.
Two hundred and seventy-three score of possibilities ran through his head before immediately being reduced to fifty eight.
He gazed closer at the planet, focusing on the source of the disruption. It felt delightfully foreign, and non-magickal in nature. His curiosity was absolutely bubbling with questions. It almost seemed like an echo, telling of despair, sadness, determination, and, as out of place as it seemed, disdain, for those that may hear it. It seemed as if it were a rabbit, with a perverted sense of self preservation, was calling upon a dragon, and then taunting it. The dragon would never retaliate, of course, because a rabbit is only capable of simple gestures and squeaks.
Indeed, it was foreign. But when he was just a spawn, he had always wanted to go exploring dangerous and new places.
Then he heard something from the ripples in the disturbance. He could not decipher everything from this distance, but true intent allowed him to feel that this soul wished for a daedra or atronach of some sort. A very ambitious, but ultimately stupid attempt at gaining power. Still, the soul was currently in great despair, and trying very hard to summon something very powerful, which meant….
That soul is in great danger.
Ulmaarmul donned his mortal(though still outclassing the most enchanted of daedric artifacts) armor, grabbed his staff, and opened an oblivion portal to transport him to this strange, new world. He had three instinctive, pure thoughts as he entered the portal.
" Save. Murder. Help."
He, truly, was not mortal anymore.
I think I did halfway decent on this one. 'Halfway decent' in the same way 3 day old domino's mushroom pizza tastes 'okay', which is to say, 'It's shit, and you're a good reader, not a good writer'. To be fair, though, I'm leaving the reader to draw their own conclusions as to what happened to ol' dov. Also, this is fresh off the noggin. That means there was NO beta check, NO reviewing, NO revising, and NO editing. I will go back and edit this(sometime) later, but I'm not sure when. Anyone can feel free to adopt this baby if they really want(they could probably do it better than me), (russian accent)but I have plan for this fic. Eet gud phlan, but eye'm naut so sure I can pull off so guud.
So(VIET), I will list wut charoctor is like, da?
Enchantments: You reverse engineered daedric artifacts and dragon priest masks, and can do whatever you like with your gear. You've been around the bend for centuries, even if you weren't very bright you'd still know everything like the back of your hand.
Daedra-like powers: You've had centuries to study under Hermaeus Mora as his champion. Unlimited knowledge. Knowledge is power. Q.E.D., B.L.T..
You ain't who you used to be: Ya don't have a job, ya don't have a race, ya don't have a gender, you don't have your mortality, and you forgot all about those adopted kids ya had. WHATTSAMATTERWITHYOU?
Lovecraftian magic and superpowers: Optional
God-like gear: You had this after two years in skyrim. Then you keep getting even BETTER shit. There's no excuse not to have it/make it(besides keeping gameplay fun but if you were in the dovahkiin's shoes you wouldn't be taking any chances, would you? No.)