Author's Note: Hello, readers! This was supposed to be up yesterday, but then I took... Nito and actually played the game. Apologies for that. Don't expect any regularity in how I upload. I just put these up as my time allows. Please read, enjoy if you want, and review!
There were several upsides to being dead. You never got hungry or thirsty, never got sick or needed rest. Surely, people could see the appeal in being undead or having an undead army. Still, people always went on about how the dead were sacred and how Arkay was going to lose it if you messed with the dead. In contrast, those Namira worshippers weren't much better. Not that they bothered skeletons, of course. No meat left.
Here Nito was in a keep where he thought the people would be more accepting of a dead man walking. What did they do when they saw him? They shot at him! With fire! Nito could only take so much after being bothered by that flying creature from before. He was once among Potema's generals, for crying out loud! Of course, no one ever did remember him. People were always going on and on about her vampire generals, but nobody remembered the rest of them. Sure, vampires weren't under her direct control, which was a testament to the respect she enjoyed, but then, most of her army wasn't. She wouldn't have needed commanders on the field if she manually controlled every single corpse on the field of battle, after all.
Reminiscence was something best done when you weren't under attack, however, and Nito had to cut his reverie short. The Dunmer fire resistance meant he could just walk through the flames like they were nothing, and not even the combined novice fire mage and summoned flame atronach could faze the skeleton. He descended on the retreating fire mage with ease, smashing the Breton's face into the ground with a satisfying crack. The fire atronach was then banished to Oblivion, her anchor to the mortal ream destroyed.
He scanned the keep's exterior. It was a rather shabby castle, likely long abandoned by its rightful owners. He could tell from the presence of necromantic energy inside that the keep had been occupied by necromancers. Further inspection of the premises showed that the keep actually had two entrances. One was apparently the main door, while the other seemed to lead to a basement of sorts. Now, Nito was never one to take enemies on head-first. He'd left that sort of thing to the other, less-intelligent generals of Potema. Nito was always that one skeleton that snuck up behind your army and scatter toxic gas in the middle of your forces, so this choice wasn't much of a choice at all.
The darkness of the Fellglow Keep Dungeon suited Nito perfectly. His vision in darkness was perfect, while the necromancers were merely human… and elf, probably. Either way, their night vision was terrible compared to his. The first room he entered had a novice necromancer and ice mage. The ice mage could do no real harm to him, and the necromancer was easily dealt with once you broke his neck instead of his servants', which was the first thing he did when he ran in. As before, he grabbed the remaining mage's neck and made polite inquiry.
"Where is the strongest necromancer in this keep?" he rasped.
"You can talk!" the ice mage blurted out, which only made Nito's grip tighten, and the mage's body stiffened, saying "Upstairs!"
"What is imprisoned down here, then?" Nito pressed.
"Wolves and vampires!" he confessed without hesitation. How cowardly these humans were in the face of death.
"Vampires?" Nito repeated, intrigued. It was true he had no love for their kind, but he wasn't so high-strung that he would ignore potential allies.
"Yeah! Starved mid-level ones!" the captive said.
"Where?"
"That way!" the mage pointed to a side corridor.
Nito dragged the captured mage by the scruff of his neck, his back scraping against the stone floor. He was screaming for help, but there really was nothing mages could do to harm him. They entered a room with 3 cages, where Nito saw there were indeed 3 female vampires locked in each one. There were also two more mages in there. He threw his prisoner at the other mages, knocking them all to the floor. Nito then grabbed a nearby iron mace and smashed the locks open on all three cages in quick succession. As before, he tossed the used weapon aside without hesitation. How he hated blunt weapons.
The famished blood-drinkers hurried out of their cages with inhuman speed, as to be expected of starved vampires, and feasted upon the blood of the mages, whose screams filled the chamber. Nito just watched in amusement. The next mage that came in to help was quickly taken down with an Ice Spike before being eaten. Vampires had their uses, as much as he despised them from past experience.
"Our thanks," said one of the vampires, who was clad in leather armor with hair that reached to her waist. It was difficult to tell the color with Nito's vision, however. She moved as if to go further in, likely for cold vengeance.
"Wait," said Nito, to their surprise, "Let us go together."
"What do you want here?" hissed another vampire, slightly larger and wearing fur armor. Her hair was shorter, and seemed bright to Nito. It was probably blonde. She noted how he seemed ticked by her question and quickly amended, "Do not mistake my curiosity for lack of gratitude, but you are an odd sight in this place."
"I seek a master necromancer," he rasped in response, "or at least one able to permanently bind me to this realm."
"You are without a master?" the last vampire asked. She was smaller than the other two, with shoulder-length hair. The tint seemed similar to the first one's, but Nito could not be sure. This last vampire was clad in a dark suit with a skull on it. It was difficult to make out the exact colors.
"Indeed, and I'd like things to remain that way," he said, "unless you happen to know where I can find a necromancer at least as powerful as the Wolf Queen?"
"A renegade you will remain, then," the first vampire spoke again, "the art of necromancy may be legal again, but Skyrim is a land of taboos and prejudice. The last great necromancer was Mannimarco in Cyrodiil, and he is long dead."
"That's a pity," he muttered, as an idea formed in his head, "What manner of undead prowl the shadows of this cold land? Vampires and skeletons are obvious. Have any ascended to lichdom?"
"None, to my knowledge," answered the vampire, which was disappointing.
"What about zombies?" he asked, "Surely, the Nords still preserve their dead?"
"No luck there," the largest of the three said ruefully, "We Nords preserve our dead, alright, and there are thousands of corpses in the burial grounds, but these draugr are animated by forces unknown to us. They are never friendly."
Nito was starting to see why there were so few great necromancers in this land and age. The art was far more difficult to practice than it had been before, despite how practitioners were not strictly locked up or slain upon discovery. Still, surely, at the very least, someone was strong enough to bind him to the mortal realm more permanently. The thought had occurred to him, that without the Wolf Queen, he was likely the most intelligent from her faction. How difficult could it be, then, for him to turn this frozen land into a lifeless waste where his word would be law? The Queen had used her army as a means to an end, but Nito would do better than she did. Yet, even as his thoughts turned to ones of grandeur, the thought of opposition entered his mind. In particular, his thoughts drifted to the dead creature on the plains of Whiterun.
"One final thing," he paused, second-guessing if he should ask but ultimately deciding to, "What manner of creature was that outside? It was a giant lizard that breathed frost as it soared through the sky."
"You saw a dragon, then?" the first vampire asked, "Horrid creatures. Be glad the one you fled from breathed ice and not fire."
"You misunderstand," he said, taking offense at her assumption, "This dragon lies dead on the fields outside, its remains like a rock in the middle of the grass.
"You slew it?" the Nord asked in shock, "Could you be Dragonborn?"
"What in Oblivion is Dragonborn?" the skeleton asked. He would've scratched his head if he had skin.
"One born with the blood of dragons," she explained, "It is an old legend among my people."
"Among Nords you mean?" Nito asked. All of the human races looked alike to him, besides the obvious one, Redguard. Beyond that, though, their skin was not all that different, and you could never say that height was an absolute measure. That said, Nito actually had no idea what he once was, nor did he care.
"Indeed," she said proudly.
"And you two?" he decided he may as well file the information away for later. It was good to have an idea about what your companions could do.
"We are Imperials," said the first one, "I am Dark and this is Shroud, my younger sister."
"I am Chill," supplied the Nord.
What was it with the children of the night and their nicknames? He wondered why they supplied him with unasked information, but he would commit it to memory all the same. Perhaps it was his feat of slaying a dragon that made them revere him? Whatever the case, he knew he may as well mention his own name, saying "I am referred to as Nito."
"Nice to meet you, Nito," Dark bowed slightly.
"If we are done, I require the services of a masterful necromancer," Nito reminded them.
"There may be one here," Chill offered, "The head necromancer subdued us by setting a risen werewolf upon us. Surely such a feat requires talent in necromancy."
"Perhaps," Nito considered, "Did this necromancer raise a corpse before your eyes or was it raised when you fought?"
"It was raised," Shroud said, "The beast ambushed us from behind."
"You are certain it was raised from death?" Nito asked. He wasn't really one who was wary of risk, but he tried to keep it minimal when he could.
"It certainly smelled the part of a carcass," Chill commented.
"Very well," Nito made his decision, "Let us find this necromancer. I need this leader alive. Slay the rest."
"What of their thrall?" asked Chill, a hint of worry in her tone, "A werewolf, dead or no, is quite the adversary."
A foolish question, that was. If a dragon of legend could not best him, what chance did a filthy mongrel have? He gave her the skeletal equivalent of a scathing glare for a few seconds, but realized he had little effect due to the lack of face muscles and having blue flames for eyes. Sighing, he said "You do realize I just killed a dragon, yes?"
"Of course, Nito," she said a little quickly.
This was why vampires vexed Nito. They were powerful forms of undead, certainly, but they simply retained far too much of their humanity for his liking. Powerful, if narcissistic master vampires were fine, but he derived no satisfaction chatting with these far lesser beings.
The odd party passed through a few more rooms and hallways until they came upon a door that seemed to lead into the main keep. Nito stalked across to it, making creaking noises as he went. It was no surprise, then, that when he opened the door, a sharp ice spike buried itself in his ribcage. He glanced at it casually, noting how it had only wedged a third of itself in. He then stared at the caster, an adept frost mage, and said "Pathetic," his hand already moving.
Nito rushed forward. He may have been a bad sneak, with how his bones creaked as he moved, but he was so light without flesh that he could move as quickly as any assassin, running up to the spellcaster, who was human, and bashing her skull with his bony fist, a loud crack resounding before she fell face down on the floor. A fire mage was next, the pale shade of a man bathing him in a stream of flames. He raised a ward in his left hand, only small enough to actually shield him, giving the impression he was being burned. He would strike once the mage thought he'd had enough.
The opportunity never came, however, as the man was beset upon by three vampires, Dark on his neck while the others each took a shoulder, the man's flames dying out as his very life was consumed. Nito grinned inside, unable to actually do so without skin. Perhaps they had uses, after all. He was shaken out of his thoughts, however, when something bit his leg. Looking down, he frowned internally when he realized it had been a wolf familiar.
Enraged, he jammed his elbow into the back of the spirit's head, forcing it back to wherever spirits were conjured from. He found its summoner standing on an elevated platform, likely where members of import stood to address the lesser mages. If that was so, then this conjurer might be able to bind him.
He darted to the conjurer, quick as always, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and asked "How deep into conjuration are you?"
"A-adept!" the man struggled for air as he dangled above the ground.
"Can you cast permanent binding spells?" Nito asked, though he very much doubted it.
"N-no!" the man said, pleadingly, "I can barely summon Dremora for a few minutes!"
"Then I've no use for you," Nito said, slamming the back of the man's head hard into the brick wall, resulting in a satisfying crack as the man went limp.
"Come," Nito commanded. He was only mildly surprised when the vampires obediently followed his directive.
That was when Nito felt it: the presence of a skilled necromancer. Whoever it was, the spellcaster had likely heard the racket and come to investigate. Nito would have grinned if he could. The only other door in the chamber flew open as a werewolf rushed in, straight for the vampires. The fool probably thought the vampires were his necromancers, and targeted them first.
Of course, he couldn't very well let them perish now, could he? He jumped in front of the werewolf and attempted to wrestle it down, but the larger creature was just as strong, if not stronger than he was, and they were locked together, the werewolf having the advantage of being able to snap at him with its jaws. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold it forever, so he asked "Do you three need an invitation or something?"
"Our apologies, lord!" replied Shroud, and Nito admitted he found some satisfaction in that. It had been hundreds of years since he'd been called "lord." It was true he didn't really feel the hundreds of years passing, but he was pleased all the same.
The three made quick work of the werewolf, turning it into an icy pincushion. It felt no pain, of course, but they'd wedged enough spikes into it to render its muscles immovable. Nito then finished the job by pulling out a spike and jamming it into the undead beast's neck, making it nearly headless. The neck was so thick that he couldn't quite get a clean decapitation. It was enough to get the body unbound from its necromancer, however, as it turned to ash.
"Bravo!" came a haughty female voice from the door. The master necromancer was standing in the doorway, leaning against part of the door. He could tell it was her from the energy she emitted. She wore a concealing hood that obscured her face, and black robes that showcased her profession with a skull marking.
"How foolish of me to think those vampires were your masters," she said, arms remaining folded, "They seemed to lack such power when we captured them two weeks ago. Still, it was even more unlikely to find such a powerful, renegade skeleton."
"Indeed," Nito could only agree. It was clever of her to bait them into revealing information to her using the werewolf. Of course, little good that would do her now that her werewolf thrall was dust. Still, it was best not to overextend himself.
"I'm surprised you haven't charged at me," she smirked, looking up. It was obvious from what little she revealed that she was a Redguard. Her skin was dark, but she was obviously not Dunmer, even with Nito's bleached vision.
"You take me for a fool?" Nito asked, pointing at the flame rune that had been drawn on the floor. She must have done it when the werewolf attacked them. The rune stood out somewhat, but since it didn't glow, it was still possible to miss it. He was glad he didn't.
"I was hoping you were, actually," she shrugged, finally uncrossing her arms, "Would have made it so much easier. Still, the challenge is welcome."
She shot a blue light from her hands, aimed at the fallen mages. The fire mage and the conjurer rose, despite how their heads were bent sideways. The fire mage began to pelt Nito with firebolts, which he easily blocked with a ward. He then raised an open palm into the air and said, "Give me a weapon!"
He wondered if they knew what he meant, but was satisfied when the younger imperial shot an ice spike into the air above his outstretched hand. He dexterously grabbed hold of it, and used the sharp object to stab the fire mage where his shoulders were connected to his arms. One arm fell off cleanly, but the other remained connected by a bit of skin, blood pouring for a few seconds before the body disintegrated.
Nito glanced at the Redguard necromancer, but realized she was smiling. He looked for the conjurer and saw he was at a summoning circle that he hadn't noticed before. It was surrounded by four soul gems, and something was clearly appearing in the center of it.
Nito became frustrated when the figure that emerged from the circle was a man far larger than any of the civilized races. He wore black armor witch cracks that glowed bright orange. His face was darker than any Dunmer's, covered in red markings. Four horns protruded from his head, and a greatsword was strapped to his back. This was such an annoyance.
The Dremora lord quickly brandished his massive weapon, which ignited the moment it was unsheathed. It rushed towards Nito, its sword now a pillar of fire. Nito raised a ward in each hand, dual-casting to form a transparent wall between him and the intimidating daedra, effectively blocking its blows. Behind it, the three vampires tore the risen conjurer apart until he became ash. To Nito's disappointment, the Dremora Lord did not vanish.
"What manner of sorcery is this?" asked Chill, now pelting the Dremora lord with ice spikes, which were unable to pierce his daedric armor.
"So you excel in both necromancy and conjuration, do you…" Nito stated more than he asked, still keeping the daedra at bay with his wards.
"I'm multi-talented," the redguard woman said calmly, now leaning against the wall again.
"Perhaps you would do me a favor and give me a permanent binding, then," said Nito, chuckling. It sounded odd with his raspy voice, however.
"That depends. Would you be willing to serve?" she inquired, rubbing her chin.
"That depends. What do you plan to do with your powers?" Nito countered.
"Not much, really," she answered, "I'll be in hiding until the civil war is over, preferably after the dragons go extinct again."
"You waste your potential," Nito said casually, despite the Dremora lord still pounding away at his barrier, "You could be the new Wolf Queen."
"And die at the hands of the people like she did?" the woman snorted, "Fat chance."
"In that case, I must decline your offer," Nito said, "But you will still cast the spell on me."
"And why would I do that?" she asked, seemingly amused by what she thought was a foolhardy skeleton.
Nito didn't bother to answer with words. Instead, he dropped his wards as the Dremora put his weight behind a single swing. The sword stabbed nothing but air, however, Nito having ducked and darted behind the creature. He then pushed the creature, taking advantage of the Dremora's mistake, and making the daedra fall flat on his face. Nito stepped on the demon's hand, making him release the greatsword, which Nito picked up and used to cut daedra's head right off. All of this happened in less than ten seconds.
He then approached the Redguard woman, who was in shock over how quickly the tide had turned. Everything would have gone smoothly, had the skeleton not forgotten one thing in the heat of the moment. The next step he took caused an explosion that resounded through the keep, the forgotten flame rune delivering its payload.
Next chapter's almost done.