Well, here we go :) Sorry for the wait :) I wish I could update as fast as my great friend redchillismoke, but I wouldn't be Godamnet if i didn't do something...unexpected ;D
Hope you enjoy it :D
"Shor's arse, it's cold!"
"Well spotted," his companion muttered, smacking the palm of his hand against the steel helmet of the guard who had complained. "It is Windhelm and we are in Skyrim…idiot."
"Such a fucking arse aren't you? Aren't you cold?"
"No…I am thinking of that woman in the dungeons…would like a piece of her…."
"She would bite it off and then stab you," he guffawed. "The last man who tried to kiss her in her sleep ended up with his bottom lip torn off…that woman is fucking insane, I tell you."
"Did you hear what she did when the Jarl went to see her?"
"No…what happened?"
"He told her she was going to be executed within a week…and she laughed. She stood there in her torn clothing and laughed at the true High King! Can you believe that?"
"And then?" the other prompted.
"Then she simply told him that 'his days were numbered and that if he wants an heir, he should fuck a servant wench before her daughter comes here and tears him apart'…her exact words."
Both guards shivered as a strong gust of wind and snow hit them, and they exchanged a glance.
"Fucking hell, you say something and the weather gets worse."
Both guards laughed as they leaned against the cold doors of the Palace of the Kings, both feeling safe despite the harsh weather and the stories of the Dragonborn that were circulating Windhelm…
"Another drink Rolff?"
Rolff Stone-Fist belched and wiped his mouth with his forearm before nodding.
"Another three, yeah!"
There was a smattering of laughter from the rest of the patrons in the Candlehearth Hall and he grinned drunkenly before knocking back a mouthful of strong ale.
"Hey Rolff, did you hear about what that bitch in the dungeons did?"
"Yeah…fucking cow. I don't know why the Jarl wants her alive, it's not as if the Dragonborn will come here and take her away from under the true High King's nose is it?"
There was another roar of approval and he laughed as he stood up, staggering slightly as the rush of blood went to his head and the alcohol in his bloodstream also went to the same place.
"I mean, that little Breton bitch comes to Skyrim and what….saves us from the World Eater? More like she came here, fucked Elisif so the little wench gets a little bit of power, then goes round our country and supposedly killing dragons? NO! She just takes the credit for what others did! And then she has the nerve to deny that she…."
He cut off as he belched again.
"That she didn't kill all those people in Markarth…her and that other bloodsucking tart…and then add the fact that even that milk drinker Balgruuf seems to have had his way with her and supports her no matter what she does? Fucking woman needs to be killed….and her fucking mother…fucking bitches, the lot of them. Don't need any more fucking milk drinkers in Skyrim!"
There was a stomping sound as many of the people thumped their feet on the floor, while other knocked the steel mugs against chairs and even the walls, egging on the drunken man who was getting increasingly louder.
"And you know what else we don't need? Fucking grey skins! The ones that walk around as though they own the fucking place! I think we should…"
His tirade was cut off when two Stormcloaks barged into the tavern downstairs and yelled at everyone's assembled there.
"DRAGON! DON' JUST STAND THERE! GET FUCKING ARMED AND GET OUT THERE, IT'S A FUCKING BIG ONE! The ones who cannot fight…or are too fucking scared to….stay out our way and we will take this beast down ourselves!"
"What dragon is it?"
"It's big and scaly, full of fucking teeth, that's what type it is, fucking bit…"
The guard stopped when the owner of the tavern glared at him, her hand resting on the silver dagger strapped to the side of her hip.
"I said, what dragon? Is it blue? Or green? They are apparently the weaker types."
"How do you know that?" Rolff slurred.
"Because unlike you, you drunken oaf, I actually listen to what people say. Now then, what type of dragon is it?"
The guards gulped.
"It's red…fucking huge….it's attacking the eastern encampment as we speak!"
"Then I would stay clear…that dragon is famous in Skyrim you know," she said, walking away and ushering the few people who were not streaming out of the exits into her cellar.
"Why? We aren't cowards like you!"
Elda Early-Dawn turned around and smiled.
"It is not cowardly for someone to stay clear of the dragon that fights for the Dragonborn. Good luck out there boys."
The guards ran out of the tavern as fast as they could, not seeing the twin eyes of a long dead person watching them from the darkened corner of the gateway.
Lucien smiled as he pulled out his spectral blade, admiring how his version of the Blade of Woe looked. It was the same as it had always been, even after he had gifted the true blade to his love and the last Listener of a generation. Curved and etched in runes, it was his favourite weapon, both past and present. He knew that the actual blade was in Astrid's possession but years of neglect had weakened the dagger and was much less effective than it had been.
But he would make sure it would change….he silently swore this oath before moving off into the night, eyeing the three guards milling around down an alleyway.
The hunt begins.
Serana smirked as Durnehviir swooped over her head before letting loose a stream of purplish magic from his mouth. The stream hit a large group of Stormcloak archers and they instantly fell to the ground, their souls ripped from their bodies where they stood. She watched with interest as a dozen of them slowly stood up, their eyes white and unseeing, before picking up the bows they had dropped and sending loose arrow after arrow against the remainder of the Stormcloaks in the western encampment.
She spun around and let loose a barrage of her own, ice spikes hitting their marks on a small group of soldiers who had been attempting to sneak up on her.
"Nice try," she laughed, pulling out her twin dragonbone daggers and running right towards the camp itself.
Durnehviir had landed and was now fighting a small army of Stormcloaks, his tail crushing several of them in one swing, his jaws crushing and tearing other soldiers. Serana shook her head.
Fucking dragons. He could have stayed airborne and hardly any of them could have touched him, he moves so damned fast for arrows to hit him enough to harm him. Instead, he lands in the largest group of soldiers he could find…
Serana dodged an arrow that was sent flying her way and she threw one of her daggers at her would be assailant, the blade puncturing the weak leather armour easily as it entered the man's chest. She had ripped the dagger out before he fell to the ground and spun around again, dodging a war hammer swing that narrowly missed her head and slashing her dagger across the soldier's waist. She followed up with a kick to the jawbone, snarling when she heard the man's neck snap.
Fucking bastard.
"YOU BITCH! HE WAS MY HUSBAND!"
"You should have kept him safe at home then," Serana hissed back, catching the woman's hand easily and throwing her away with a single movement.
Her opponent sprung to her feet and charged at Serana once more. Serana sighed and deflected her blade swing with her daggers and darted forward, wrapping an arm round the woman's waist and lunging forwards, face first.
The Stormcloak screamed when Serana's fangs dug their way into her throat, and she dropped her sword to free her hand and try and escape. Serana quickly grabbed her free hand and held the woman in her embrace, drinking her fill. Serana felt the woman's heartbeat slow and stop and after a few seconds, she released the woman, letting her drop to the floor and wiping her mouth with her hand.
"Foolish woman. At least you are reunited with your husband now," she muttered.
Serana turned back to see Durnehviir had taken off again, three Stormcloaks gripped in his massive jaws. She chuckled when he dropped them after he climbed a few hundred feet and ran at the remainder of the Stormcloaks, who were frantically trying to reorganise themselves after being attacked by a seemingly un killable dragon and a vampire who could dodge arrows.
"Kill the vampire!"
"Oh dear…stupidity runs deep within the Stormcloak ranks," Serana mocked, spinning her daggers in her hands before taking a fighting stance. "Oh, and you forgot something very important.."
She nodded to them and the Stormcloaks screamed as Durnehviir landed behind them so that the dozen or so soldiers were trapped between the dragon and the vampire.
"I give you this one choice. Leave now and maybe I will spare your lives….my companion here I am not so sure about…."
"FOR THE HIGH KING!"
Serana shook her head as they divided, three of them deciding she was the lesser threat while the rest attempted to attack the massive undead dragon, who seemed amused and pleased with their decision.
The first man swung at her, his steel sword flashing in the moonlight…only to be stopped by her dagger, sparks flying off when they connected. She smiled at him.
"Impressive. But very…very risky…"
He looked at her nonplussed and had no time to react when Serana twirled around, her movement enough to unbalance him. He had barely enough time to do anything when her other dagger slashed him across his throat, a deep spray of blood splattering her armour and face.
"YOU BITCH!"
She dodged the next two attacks, although one of them did manage to graze her skin with her great sword, and this infuriated her beyond what she could take. She hissed at the one with the silver blade and lunged at her, dodging her heavy swing and stabbing her with both blades through the chest. Serana snarled when a hilt slammed into her spine, and she spun around once more, facing her assailant.
She stared at first. The attacker was barely an adult, barely a whisker on his face.
So young…too young and too stupid to know better.
"Go home," she sighed. "This is no place for you."
"I fight for Skyrim!"
"You fight for Ulfric you mean…a man who kills for his own gain and clearly underestimates his enemies."
"You will never speak like.."
"Shut up you little shit."
Serana glared at the boy as he gaped at her after her outburst.
"I am over four thousand five hundred years old boy, and I can tell you that Ulfric is doing what all mortals do…gain power through whatever means he can."
Serana didn't flinch as an ear splitting scream came from behind her, followed by a loud crunching noise.
"He used the Voice to gain support for his own ambitions…and you know what happened when he did that?"
The boy shook his head.
Serana didn't say anything at first. She nodded to Durnehviir, who had killed of the others with no difficulty, and he looked at the young soldier before him, lowering his head so he could see into his eyes.
"When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world,
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped.
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles,
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls.
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding,
The World-eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn"
Serana shook her head just after Durnehviir had finished speaking.
"Don't you see?" she hissed. "Ulfric was the one who started the beginning of the end. By killing the High King, he set the chains of destiny into motion….it was he who allowed Alduin to come into Nirn. It was Ulfric who started a war against the dragons and cost the lives of so many of your countrymen. And you know who ended it all don't you?"
The boy quivered but said nothing.
"She ended it all for YOU!" Serana yelled, a blast of energy slamming into the Stormcloak and sending him flying off the cliff behind him.
She gasped.
No…how?…
She turned to Durnehviir, who nodded to her.
"You can use the thu'um, the ability lies within all of you. Only those willing to learn and those skilled enough can understand how to use the thu'um.…without meaning to," he growled gently.
"But…"
"You have been in the company of the Dragonborn for quite some time now, Lady Serana. You tasted her blood and in doing so, you were given an insight into what a Dovahkiin truly is. You also understand the thu'um better than most. Certainly better than that joor…"
Serana blinked and sheathed her daggers before nodding to the dragon beside her.
"We can talk about this later. Come on, let's see if the 'young one' needs some assistance…his camp is larger so there will be more sport to be had."
"Hah! You are more like the Dovahkiin indeed. Come, let us fight together once again!"
Serana smiled as she lightly jumped onto the dragon's back and held onto two of his neck spikes.
Hope Odahviing isn't being as cocky like this old one was.
Ulfric Stormcloak stared at the sight of the green dragon with the small figure on it's back and he snarled angrily, the ground shaking slightly around him. He nodded to Ralof, who nodded back at him before running off to the smoking area where the camp used to be, two dozen soldiers following him.
I doubt anyone is left alive, but I have to be sure. Rest easy in Sovngarde, brothers and sisters.
"Why now?" Galmar growled. "Why do they attack us when we are full strength. None of our fighters have seen any sign of Imperial soldiers or scouts."
"It's a message," Ulfric replied grimly. "Whoever is attacking us is saying they can and will attack whenever they wish."
"So the question is…who sent them? Two dragons and a woman who can dodge arrows?"
"You know who it is my friend. We both do."
"The Dragonborn," Galmar breathed angrily, clenching his battle axe tightly.
"She wishes to provoke me into coming for her. It seems placing a bounty on her head is not enough to make her leave her hiding place and she send her…scum, to do things for her."
"So, when do we kill that bitch in the dungeons?"
Ulfric shook his head.
"Not yet my friend. First, we kill the dragons. I doubt she has more helping her. The woman who is here…she will leave soon enough when her large 'companions' are no longer around. Come, let us kill this red bastard and…"
A panting Stormcloak running over to him stopped Ulfric in his tracks and he nodded to the young messenger, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Take a breath. What is your report?"
The messenger took a shaky breath before standing upright.
"Ten guards were found dead in Windhelm, My Jarl. All of them killed by dagger wounds. The captain has doubled the guard around Windhelm as well as outside the Palace."
Ulfric swore as he removed his hand from the messenger's shoulder.
"That's all we need. That fucking Butcher seems to have targeted anyone now. Go back to Windhelm and make sure every guard has at least two others with them at all times. Report anything unusual, no matter how small it may seem. Now go. Talos guide you."
"And you, My jarl," the messenger gasped before sprinting away as fast as he could allow.
Ulfric looked back at Galmar and nodded briefly.
"Let's get that fucking dragon and give that little Breton something to think about."
Morgan smirked as Gabriella approached the four guards just outside the dungeons. She had added a sway to her hips as she walked, the long black dress hugging her curves tightly. As expected, the soldiers on duty suddenly stood upright and stared at her as she approached.
Most of them are racist bastards but give them a woman in a dress and suddenly they become almost human.
"Hello boys", Gabriella purred as she came to a stop in front of them. I find myself lost in this place and would like some directions."
"Get rid of the dress and you will show you anything you like darling!"
Morgan rolled her eyes.
Gabriella laughed before running her hand along the jaw of the man who had spoken, before lowering her hand to caress the front of his trousers.
"You couldn't handle what I have," she assured him, winking at the others, who roared with laughter. "So, any offers?"
"We need to stay here miss, Jarls' orders."
"I doubt the dragon could get this deep underground," she purred lightly before placing a thoughtful expression on her face. "Could at least one of you accompany me back to where I need to go? I doubt four of you is needed to guard this place."
"I'm sorry, grey-skin," the grizzled guard rumbled, "Go ply your trade elsewhere."
Bad move, Morgan grinned wickedly.
Gabriella smiled at the guard captain and nodded to him.
"You are to be first."
He didn't move as the Dark Brotherhood assassin suddenly slammed her palm of her right hand into the bridge of his nose with enough force to shatter the bone, sending shards of bone into the man's brain. He barely dropped to the ground when the lithe dunmer slashed at the two guards flanking her with a small set of wrist daggers that had been hidden in the long sleeves of her dress.
Nicely done Gabby…how is the last one going to die?
The last remained guard yelled and swung his mace at the unarmed woman…only for her to dodge the swing and jump onto the man, wrapping her legs round his body and slamming her forehead into his face. He yelled in pain as he fell to the floor, the assassin on top of him. Gabriella snarled as she stabbed him through one arm.
"That was for Festus."
Another stab, this one through his left arm.
"That was for Arnbjorn. Oh quit whining," she snarled, slapping him with the flat edge of her blade.
She then stabbed him through the chest…slowly.
"That was for Liz and Veezara.. Embrace the Void."
Morgan slowly walked behind the seated dunmer straddling the corpse and laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Come, Sister."
Gabriella nodded as she stood up and smoother her dress down before embracing her Listener.
"Thank you."
Morgan smiled.
"Anytime. Lets get my mother out of there."
The two of them entered the main dungeons and Morgan looked around. None of the side cells were occupied, there was only one that had someone inside…
"Morgan…."
Morgan ignored Gabriella's whisper as she sprinted over to the cell and tore the door clean off it's hinges and threw the twisted metal remains to one side before quickly kneeling down next to the woman that lay there.
"Mother…" she whispered, gently turning over the woman.
Lilith Aurelius had been badly bruised. There were small lacerations across her face as well as much larger and ragged tears across her bare back.
The bastards. They whipped her, beat her…several ribs broken at least…
She felt that inner rage within her being, waves of power coursing through her that she had never felt. She knew she had hidden power but was afraid to release it...but now she wanted to. Now she wanted to embrace her true self. She didn't feel Gabriella's hand on her shoulder. All she could feel was pure, infinite rage.
Gabriella backed away as the Listener became enveloped in a thick could of black smoke. She could feel the magic thrumming in the air, the smell of sulphur suddenly burning her nostrils. She squinted her eyes and attempted to see what was going on, but nothing could be seen. She was about to say something but stopped when she saw the smoke clear.
By Sithis…
A nine foot tall being stood there, the limp form of Lilith Aurelius held within it's clawed hands. The wings were more like a dragon's than a bat, with deep red membranes stretching across the appendages. There was set of wickedly sharp fangs within her mouth, each of them white and deadly to behold. The muscles on her stomach, legs and arms were large yet Gabriella could tell that she had more power than twenty people combined.
Her legs were wrapped up in a loose black skirt that was torn in several places, while a modest band of material covered the Dragonborn's chest.
"Take her back to the Sanctuary Gabby. Stop for nothing."
Gabriella nodded dumbly as she gently took Lilith from the transformed Dragonborn. She could feel her blood rushing through her body faster and faster within her presence and she had to blink several times to clear her head.
"GO"
"Of…of course, Listener."
Morgan said nothing as she watched Gabriella walk out the dungeon. She flexed her hands a few times, hissing when she felt her borrowed blood flowing through her.
Time for me to return the favour. You fuck with me Ulfric…and you fuck with Death itself.
She spread her wings and smashed her way through the wall itself, thanks to a small directed thu'um aimed between the bricks. She looked into the moonlit sky and roared, the ground shaking all around her.
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn has come.
AN: Hehehe more like beware, beware, Godamnet is at it again :D Thanks for reading everyone, will update ASAP :D