Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bethesda Studios and I own nothing except for the OC and plot. This is a non profit work.

Thanks for the views, I am sorry I meant to have this out last Friday. But time eluded me and I was forced to wait till Monday when I would have enough time to finish this. I really wanted to make sure that I was able to look at the Winking Skeevr and the lore a bit before posting this chapter, trying to avoid inconsistency with the world. Please note that the travel time in the game is 10 hours when walking and riding, which seemed a tad illogical, so I did take some liberty's with this.

Also welcome our hero the dragon born into the scene. Though the two have not meet yet I wanted to introduce him so we can see a little of how he acts before we get to him fighting the priest. Plus or little priest needs to gain her strength back before they fight.

As always please favorite, and offer your comments/ideas. I have edited a few things, nothing story wise has been changed though. =3

I will hopefully be uploading the next chapter soon!~


Vokun's mind was a haze as she walked through the once familiar rooms. It was possible to blame time for the haze that seemed to be strung over her thoughts. Rooms that had once been lined with tapestries of their faith, in colors so vibrant, where now only shades of brown. Their images lost as the pieces frayed away, taking the story with them. Walls had been broken, roofs collapsed forcing her servants to make new routes through their home. Food that had once been fresh, was little more than a mold stain by time. While the damage was staggering and upsetting to see, it gave her a good idea of how long she had slept in oblivion's embrace.

Vokun finally procured a seat in one of the many dining halls for her people. The shuffling of the dead around only seemed to distract her from that fleeting feeling that something was wrong. Something…something to do with her servants? If only she could remember what it was that seemed to haunt her memories.


Unlike the other heroes of time, he did not have many names. While the titles seemed to become never ending, he only had one name. It was a poor name at that. His short time spent in Helegen, before the dragon attacked, seemed to be the beginning of his life. He was no child that much he knew for sure, but his own age seemed to elude him. Everything about his life till the point of Helegen was gone. There were times at night as he stared into the northern lights that he had that feeling. The feeling that everything he wished to know about his life was right there on the tip of his tongue. Just waiting to spill forth.

Yet he never seemed to breach its wall and with every passing night he became more jaded to the idea. It had been six months since that day in Helegen. The day he picked his name for what remained of his short life. It was a stupid name picked under the pressure of that Imperial woman.

Only hours before the dragon burned the town he had been captured by Imperials. The Jarl of Windhelm and his 'storm cloaks' where trying to flee from something or someone. The imperials planned their trap well and obtained everyone in the facility including him and Lokir of Rorikstead. A few hours later he would awake in a carriage being taken to the town of Helegen. His hands bound together like a common animal. The other men and woman did not fight back their attackers, maybe at one point when he had been out for the count they had. Now though their defiance was merely a silent memory as they approached the chopping block.

Each of them walked from the carriage in a line to be counted like cattle. Their names called and confirmed before being sent to the chopping block. When it became his turn a man by the name of Hadvar realized that he was not part of the storm cloaks. He called him forward and asked him what his name was. It should have been a simple question but he had no answer to that. He only knew he was a Nord by the Imperial Caption mentioning him as the Nord in the rags. He regretted those words that slipped from his mouth a name that would bran him forever. He had chosen the name Lygleif with little thought or consideration.

That had been months now, though it seemed like years. His constant travel across the lands in search of the words of power and a way to beat Alduin at his own game. Already he had traveled to High Hogthort to the home of the grey beards. They revealed the knowledge that he had dragons blood flowing through his veins. The ability to use the Thu'um was something that came natural to him, while the grey beards spent many years learning the skill. They had even revealed the disturbing concept that when he killed dragons, like Mirmulnir outside Whiterun, he was consuming their soul. Their thoughts and memories would become his own.

It may have been nice to be able to play through different parts of the dragons life, maybe even given him an advantage. But the thoughts where all muddled together in a haze. They spoke and thought in the tongue of the Dov, something he was slowly trying to learn. While he could understand their words, it was only the basic understanding of the conversation. Even the basics left him with a raging headache, as he tried to sort through so much muddled information. Over all his attempts had proven to be fruitless attempts at understanding the Dov more. Something late at night he would hear the whispers of the dragons in his sleep. Watch their jumbled minds clashing together in a great storm of anger and furry. Ever since the dreams started he tried to keep himself disconnected from the dragon souls as much as possible. Only using them when it was required, such as to shout.

When his ability to use the Thu'um becoming widely know knowledge, he had been requested to deal with everything from the 'bear menace' to killing the dragons on their ridges. Everyone seemed to have a problem and jumped eagerly at the idea of the Dragon born solving the issue. Now task seemed to be too little in their mind, even retrieving old rusted out swords. Lygleif was far too nice of a guy to turn everything down. While he wouldn't dart off on search of a book he would make note of the item and its last known location in his journal. If he was close to the area there was no reason to not retrieve the trinket. It was along his travels that he discovered Delphine, one of the only blades left in existence. The blades where an ancient order in the time of Talos. Their original purpose was to protect the Septim blood line. With the death of the emperor Uriel Septim VII and his known children by the Mythic Dawn the oblivion crises began. The blades had discovered another child of Uriel Septim VII named Martin and brought him to hiding inside their sanctuary of Cloud Ruler Temple. Martin Septim died in battle against Mehrunes Dagon, ending the oblivion crises and the blades purpose. From that time on the blades became dragon slayers and protectors of Tamriel.

Delphine was adamant that they together had to find out why the dragons where rising once more. While Lygleif had agreed to do as she asked he now was not so happy about the task. The trip from Riverwood to Whiterun then Solitude had been a long and agonizing path. What was supposed to be a week's ride in a carriage with his companion Lydia had been ruined after only the second day.

Everyone fantasizes about being the dragon born. All the power and glory goes straight to their head. No one stops to think of the number of enemies he had procured in only six months. Their carriage had been attacked by a dragon who used the horses as a tasty treat as the hero and his companion retreated into the thick of the trees. Running had never been his style but he could either fight or secure the rations they would require for the rest of the trip to Solitude. By the time they had stashed their water and food the dragon had flown away with a happy full stomach.

A week trip turned into eight days of hell. At first it was the rain that seemed to slow the two of them down, making their gear heavier to carry. The leather under their armor would soak up the rain, forcing them to trudge along in soaked clothing. Their skin growing raw from the wet leather. There where spots few in between in which the two could stop and take shelter. Often they stopped only for a few hours to rest before continuing. The whole time they kept their armor on, encase of an archer lurking around the edge of their vision. By the time they reached the snowy areas Lygleif had tried to find another carriage to carry them the last little bit. The pairs luck only turned rotten as the news that bandits had struck the day before in Morthal stealing the only carriage for miles. After so much misfortune the warm fire of The Winking Skeever seemed godly. Though the air was thick with smoke and the floors slick with booze, it was nice to be in civilization again.

The dragon born immediately found a corner to sit in, his boots propped up in a spare chair, as the Nordic mead began to flow into his cup. Lygleif procured a room for both him and his housecarl Lydia. Along with enough mead to put any sturdy man on his ass. "Let us enjoy the night my friend, Delphine's task can wait another day." Lydia raised an eyebrow, as if annoyed by his decision. "If you're sure my Thane." Lygeilf just rolled his eyes, while the woman was a useful fighter she seemed to have a stick up her ass. Always questioning his actions and ideas like he was a child. He was the thane of Whiterun…but then again his new title had robbed her of how own chance at the title of captain of the guard in Whiterun. So of course she would be bitter towards him. Had he not offered her a good fight now and again he would be worried with the woman using that blade on him. He had considered the idea of letting the woman return back to her home in Whiterun. But the idea of trekking through this god forsake land alone, with ever dragon on his ass, just didn't seem appeasing enough.


Hours later his belly was full of mead and the tavern was full of the stench of drunken men. At first when the men had begun to pour into the tavern for dinner, Lydia had become more and more annoying. She requested more than once to move to a more secluded place, one which gave them some privacy. After weeks spent practically alone he sort of enjoyed the attention the 'dragon born' was bond to receive in a crowed area. Already the bard had begun to sing songs of his conquest and his fate to destroy Alduin. But nothing kills a Nords buzz like a griping woman. After the third request Lygleif was forced to move from his comfortable spot to the upstairs tables, or risk losing the warmth the mead was providing.

Upstairs of the tavern was very different then the bottom, less people were crammed between the two tables. This area seemed to be used less by the local patrons, probably of the rooms next to the tables. The area allowed for a view of the fire and crowed below. The voices of the Nords singing and yelling below seemed to be quieter in this spot. Several book cases, covered in a combination of useless junk like rolls of unused paper and books lined the wall. He was not a man to spend hours with his nose stuck in a book. It was that aspect that had caused him to stay away from the magical arts, except for the occasional minor health spell. Yet he was in good moods, and the books of this land often offered up stories that sounded too obscured to be taken seriously.

It had been a month or so ago that he had stumbled upon a book called the "Lusty Argonian Maid vol. II" in the Honningbrew Meadery. At the time he had to be swift and had little time to read the book, so like most of the items around Tamriel he pocketed the book till later. After he had sorted that particular mess for the Thieves Guild he found time to read the book, with a bottle of Nordic mead at his side. Maybe it was the innocent smut the book was written of but he found it to be a hilarious book. One that made him spit the mead from his mouth with laughter. Since then Lygleif learned that mead and books mixed together like lust and woman.

The Nord moved to the shelf's examining the names with only a quick glance 'Horkers Attack', 'Kolb & the Dragon' where possible choices that could offer some interest to him. The books seemed like something he should actually pay attention to when he was filled with less booze. To his dismay there where only seven books out for the public to read. It was rubbish really, he had seen more books in the bedroom of the caves he stalked then this tavern seemed too offered.

That was a thought though, he had paid for two rooms, which conveniently where located across from the bookcases. He moved to his own room first, expecting it to contain more since it was the larger of the two rooms. There was a two person bed straight in front of him, along with a few small nightstands for him to store his equipment in. The right side of the room had a small sitting area with another bare bookshelf. This one though had several more books to read. At the top an old leather bound book was ready to slide off the shelf. With just a glance he knew this was the book he had been seeking. With the book in hand he returned to his spot at the table overlooking the rest of the tavern. "I found one finally Lydia."

The housecarl rolled her eyes as she placed her goblet down on the table. "What have you found now Thane? Another smut book to entertain your needs?" Lygleif let out a sigh his eyes rolling at the idea. "Woman that was one time, besides I am an adult, I can read whatever I choose." He sat back into his spot picking up the goblet to take another swig of his drink. Lydia would snort at his display her head shaking in dismay. She often reminded him that he was too young for his position. Now she seemed to think the same think as he opened the book and began to scan the pages. "Well what do you have there Lygleif….or do I need to take the book from you already."

He grumbled out a cures, something to do with women fighters and trolls. "It's called 'Amongst the Draugr' by some guy. He's a fool though, hiding in their nest trying to integrate with the creatures. They are just mindless husk cursed by the gods." He seemed to have said something right for Lydia nodded her head in agreement before returning to the task of trying to out drink him. Honestly the book didn't seem that interesting and he was ready to ditch the whole idea of reading completely. The mention of the dragon priest though caught his eye and with interest the man began to scan the page. "What freaks they are!"

The book was tossed across the table and into Lydia's lap. The woman's sharp brown eyes turned to daggers as she looked to the book. "What are you doing?" He would not be dampened by her anger now as he tried to contain his laughter. "Look on the page about dragon priest…." It toke the woman a few minutes to find his spot and read what he had just read. Her expression turned from malice to confusion. "I don't get it…." Lygleif almost jumped across the table to give her a good shaking. "The dragon priest consume the souls of their followers. They are eating them away to be those damn creatures. Come on that's gross, even for them."

"I suppose my Thane…you have had enough alcohol for tonight. Go to bed so we can do as Delphine asked." Damn woman always knew a way to ruin his fun. Lygleif stood and moved to her side of the table snatching the book from her. "Yeah yeah…..by the way I'm hungry. Come here Lydia let me eat a little of your soul, that should be enough." He grabbed the woman by the shoulders and pulled her up so that he could take a mouthful of her hair into his mouth. "Nom, nom"

He had never seen the woman so fast as she grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the ground below her. "DON'T EAT MY HAIR YOU BRUTE, ARE YOU CRAZY?!" Even with her pinning him to the ground with her knee pressed squarely against his neck he couldn't help but laugh. "Oh come on, you know you liked it." For whatever reason the woman just let out growl as she got off him and quickly retreated to her room. The door being slammed quickly behind her as she locked the door.

Lygleif stood up looking to the others that had begun to creep up the stairs to see what the commotion was about. "Women, you can never satisfy them…."


Time seemed to progress oddly within the tomb. Since there were no outside lights it was impossible to tell them time, let alone how quickly or slowly it was passing. Years spent sleeping only made the dragon priest irritable as she watched the progress of her followers. They didn't seem to have the same gusto that they had once had in their youth. Their bodies shuffling around like the tired corpses they were. Vokun had been trying to find the thought that eluded her but had finally surrendered to it all. With time her mind would become less of a haze and she would be once again able to perform at her peak.

Her followers where finding all the scraps of their weapons, even digging into the areas that had been long lost to them. She hoped that it would pay off, since their tomb seemed to lack the armory, her commanders had insisted upon installing. Vokun was so distracted by her own thoughts that she almost ignored the draugr that merely dropped their items to the ground and began to walk off. The loud clang of metal against stone ripped the priest from her thoughts and to the actions of her followers. The three draugr had begun to walk towards the door to the lower areas of the temple, including her own sarcophagus." Fos los hi sed dreh" –"What are you three doing?"

The draugr paused for only a moment, they looked to each other then back to the door. Either they didn't wish to expose what they were doing or they too where confused. She stood from her chair with intention to march over to the creatures, when they turned and began to move towards her. The priest raised her hand in warning, allowing her magic to flow out around her dead flesh. Had she already began to lose control of the dead she was supposed to command? Should she just end this little display now and get on with their work? The creatures stopped before there was any reason to cause bloodshed, or could they even bleed? Each of the creatures dropped to their knees in unison and raised their heads to look upon her with blank stares.

Those creepy blue eyes began to glow brighter as if suddenly lit on fire. Vokun began to feel fear from her own people, she had no idea what they were attempting to do but she was the leader her. If she allowed herself to appear weak in front of her people now, she would never be able to lead them into battle for their master. The draugr allowed their mouths to slack open, some seemed to almost fall apart from the lack of muscle holding them together. A blue glow began to eminent out of the opened mouth and towards Vokun. Vokun toke a breath preparing for the pain that she expected to come forth. But there never was any pain, but rather a warmth that seemed to penetrate deep into her bones. The blue glow wrapped around its new master before being soaked into the bones that bound it. After a few minutes the draugr stopped the exchange of life. They slowly stood and moved to the closest stone beds to regain their strength back.

"Of course…how foolish of me." Vokun rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. Her loyal followers where merely feeding her their souls as they had done for years before. They original where going to move to her sarcophagus like clockwork. Though it would have horrified her years ago the exchange had been rather pleasurable. Already she felt less tired, as if the haze upon her mind was being lifted. Her body felt less stiff, as if years of age was being removed. Now if only she could consume a strong soul, one that had not spent years draining away. Even one of the Dov would be nice. If three draugr could cause this sort of change in her from just a pinch of their souls. Imagine what a fresh dragon could do to the priest old body.

"Drun zey Avi'nk "-"Bring me Avi'nk". Already her mind was spinning out of control with the possibilities. Finding a dragon to consume would be hard, let alone consuming their souls. It was something that Alduin had boosted of. The ability to grow from the souls of the weak. But maybe she could convince her master to drawl out the soul and somehow allow her to consume some if not all of it. "Avi'nk mu lost yor mein. Mu kend siiv Aludin."- "We have a new plan. We must find Aludin."