"Hey, you! You're finally awake." This distinctly Nordic voice woke me from my peaceful slumber. Well, that and the uneven road we were travelling upon. The burning sensation from before was thankfully gone; I doubt I would be able to fully focus on the upcoming combat with that around.
System tutorial
Currently, most of the system functions are locked until you finish the tutorial (Escape Helgen).
Status guide
Status
Name: Erato
Title: None
Level: 1
Health: 100
Magicka: 100
Stamina: 100
Class: Necromancer 1
Jobs:
Conjuration: 1
Two-handed: 1
Destruction: 1
Titles
Titles grant boons to stats, and reputation and obedience change. They are gained through certain actions or reputational or obedience milestones.
Levels
Levels are a rough measuring stick for power. Keep in mind that just because someone is at a higher level than you doesn't mean you can't defeat them by means such as deception or strategy. In the end, levels are a mere representation of someone's current full potential; it is up to said person to use them wisely.
You gain levels by killing or defeating enemies, finishing quests, and levelling your class and jobs.
A companion levelling guide will be sent to you when you gain one.
Class
A class can be explained as an archetype; it basically explains who you are. Classes have only 10 stages, awarding you bigger and better rewards as you advance in them.
When you reach stage 10 in your first class, you will be given the choice of either choosing another class or advancing the one you have mastered.
Every class has only one advancement, which also has 10 stages.
Example: Necromancer to Death Master
Jobs
Jobs are basically skill trees, with the assumption that they do not grant you new skills but improve your understanding of your craft. Jobs are levelled separately from classes and overall levels.
Nodding, I inspected my unfortunate companions. I glanced over the expected: Ralof, Lokir, and Ulfric are all here. So, could someone tell me what the redhead woman next to Lokir was doing there?
I honestly wasn't expecting this to be without any changes, but this early? Things are already starting to become complicated. I sigh quietly. Ah shit, here we go again.
"Yes, I suppose I am." I answered him as I brought my tied hands up to rub the sleep out of my eyes, a small yawn escaping my mouth. Ugh, I can't remember when I last slept. I am at least wearing proper black mage robes instead of that uncomfortable thing the imperials forced Lokir and that woman into.
That train of thought is promptly derailed as I feel the gamer's body and mind kicking in. You can't have shit in Skyrim, apparently; even fatigue escapes you eventually. Although I am not sure if I should be complaining or be happy about that,
"You were trying to cross the border, right?" He continues on. Oh, for fuck's sake, I've heard this so many times. Can you shut the fuck up, dude?
"You walked right into that imperial ambush, same as us and those thieves over there." Despite my internal plea, he continues on. The moment his sentence fails to match the one from my memory, I pipe up.
Ralof indicated Lokir and the girl, really a woman, sitting next to him. Well, I have my magical gamer bullshit; I might just as well use it.
Inspect
Name: Aria
Title: None
Level: 1
Health: 100
Magica: 100
Stamina: 100
Class: Barbarian
Jobs:
Archer: 1
Two-handed: 1
Heavy armour: 1
Oh, I don't like that. I don't like that at all.
The woman had bulging mussels and the figure of a bodybuilder. It was quite noticeable that she was tall—like, extremely tall. I had a good 183 cm on me, but she was easily a head higher than me. Rich, ginger hair spilled down her shoulders while her emerald eyes glared out at the world menacingly.
Ralof was rumbling on, but I had better things on my mind. Would someone be kind enough to explain to me what the fuck was happening? Is she another gamer? What's going on?
To answer your questions. No, she is not a gamer. In fact, take a look at this.
A new quest received.
Get rid of the competition.
Option A
Kill Aria, the dragonborn.
Rewards:
Dragon Soul, 100 XP
Option B:
'Befriend' Aria
Rewards:
Half of a Dragon Soul, 200 xp, Companion
Oh? As much as I want to kill her, the reward is greater than the risk—at least I hope so. Through all this time, Ralof has been speaking to himself and occasionally exchanging a few words with Lokir.
Eventually, with an ambient sound of horse hooves hitting the stone road, we arrived at Helgen. This place is, or at least will be, the place where the dragonborn will start his or her adventure. Only time will tell who this dragonborn will be—me or that obstacle in my way to absolute power.
With a creek of ageing wood, the gate was opened, and we entered the fort-village. I drowned out the squabble between the thief and the stormcloak I heard so many times.
Despite the gamer's mind working in the background, I felt something. Now, most people in this situation would feel fear or anger. Me? I felt giddiness and an eagerness to fight and kill; it has been quite a long time since I snuffed out someone's life with my own two hands.
We finally stopped, and Lokir was doing his best to get killed with the amount of panic he was radiating. But, despite Lokir's best attempts, my good mood did not lessen.
The imperials did their list thing as I looked over the present Stormcloak forces. There was no way I was helping the empire, so I would have to do my best to save as many of the rebels as I could to use them as meatshields to put between me and a certain overgrown, winged, fire-breathing lizard.
Keeping that in mind, I kicked the horsethief in the leg before he could make a run for it. He would make a good sacrifice before Alduin made his way here.
After all, I needed a sacrificial pawn to save that suicidal Stormcloak soldier. And let me tell you, if I am to choose between a parasite and an actual warrior, my choice is obvious.
His knee made a dry snapping sound as it bent in the entirely wrong direction. The guards who were just about to restrain him stopped in utter shock. I hope my acting skills are up to the task.
"You got me into this mess; you're not taking the easy way out." I snarl, putting as much malice into my voice as possible. There's no way for him to counter my words considering that he is convulsing on the ground and screaming in agony.
The guards around them are about to move, but the imperial captain raises her hand into the air, commanding them to stop. "We have no time for this, next prisoner." She speaks up.
As Lokir is helped up by Aria, who is giving me a murderous glare, Hadvar looks over his list. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."
The imperial captain looks over me and, with an indifferent shrug, gives orders. "Forget the list; he goes to the block." Oh, I am going to enjoy cleaving her head off her shoulders soon enough. I go to stand next to the stormcloaks.
Lokir is mumbling something as he lies down on the chopping block. You know, you might not believe it, but it is quite surreal that the captain stands in the right place and does not just slide into it. Sometimes we are surprised by the weirdest things. The cowled executioner raises his axe and, with a loud sound of iron hitting Stone, ends the life of Lokir, the horse thief. He died as he lived, being a massive fucking coward.
"Next, the Nord in the rags." Commands the female captain, pointing at Aria. The dragonborn steps forward, with Hadvar commenting with his typical "Nice and easy."
She is lying on the block, Lokir's blood staining her chin. At that moment, I realised Alduin didn't roar. What is happening? Was I wrong? I stilled.
Wait, there it is—the flap of giant wings. Seconds later, he lands, knocking everyone besides me to the ground. In the chaos, Aria is swept away by the Stormcloaks, making a B line for the nearest tower.
Concentrating on the magical energy in my body, I will it to flow towards my palms. I feel a heat on my skin, and in a flash of green light, a flaming skull is summoned.
Manipulating my inner magical muscles, I have the skull bite down on the thick leather, keeping my arms together.
After the scorched remains fall to the ground and the skull vanishes, the job is done. Seeing as all the guards promptly forgot about me, I proceeded to the tower at a leisurely pace.
Kicking the doors open, I ignore the stormcloaks scrumbling for their weapons. Looking to the floor centre, I don't see the two soldiers that would be bleeding out there in the game. Huh, I guess that my sacrificing Lokir like that is already starting to pay off.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Starts the all-too-well-known dialogue. You know, I can just skip it, but if I do, they will be asking uncomfortable questions later. So, I might just as well stand here and hear them out.
"Legends don't burn down villages." Commented Ulfric as he looked over the people who managed to escape. "We need to move, now!" All right, at this point, this is starting to get boring. When do I get to kill someone?
"Up through the tower. Let's go! This way, friends! Move!" And here he goes again. I do catch that he used the plural instead of the singular.
And so we go on to do all that boring stuff. You know, jumping down buildings and generally running from a massive fucking dragon! Eventually, we end up with a choice. Hadvar or Ralof? You know, I could list out all the pros and cons, but... Who am I kidding? Fuck you, Hadvar.
You know what the Stormcloaks have in excess that the Empire doesn't? Land to conquer. More land equals more power. And what do I crave the most? That's right, absolute power.
So, with that in mind, I manifest my scythe and club Hadvar with it upside the head. If he has luck, he'll survive. If not? Well, I missed the part where that's my problem.
With that, I walk forward to the door the imperial dragonborn takes, but considering Hadvar's state, well, to say the least, he is out of commission.
The rest follow me in silence, not knowing what to do. I open the door and hold it for the rest. After each and every last one of my temporary companions entered, I closed the door.
In such a situation, most would expect some kind of explanation, but honestly? They are just NPCs, I do not care about their feelings or mental state. Therefore, throwing orders at them was completely natural for me.
"We need to leave this place poste haste; otherwise, we will be turned to fine paste by that dragon." While words spill from my lips, I advance, grabbing the key from a nearby table.
I wonder where the bitch captain is. Eh, if she stands in my way, she will be swiftly dealt with. I want to find some soldiers to slaughter soon. I know I am good with my scythe, but some undead to throw between me and my enemies could be useful.
Ralof and Ulfric merely looked at each other and nodded. There was another problem, though.
"Hold it!" rang out a clearly angered female voice. Turning around to the dragonborn, I raised my eyebrow in an inquiry. She furiously glares at me; if stares could kill, I would be a smothering corpse by now.
"What on Mara's green Nirn was that?" That tone, that posture—oh, for fuck's sake, a good-aligned character
I roll my eyes and look at her as if she were a mere child. Well, if she didn't want to be looked at this way, not acting like a child would be advisable.
"That was me making sure I got out of there alive." She keeps staring at me with disapproval. Ah well, if she doesn't like it, she can go stuff herself. "What is that look about? Wouldn't you have done the same? Besides, let us get out of here in one piece, then we can converse about such nonsense."
After saying that, I proceed foreword, not looking back at the clearly displeased Dragonborn. Oh well, why do I even care? She'll be mine soon.
A few seconds later, I hear both of the stormcloaks follow my lead. Both of them stayed quiet, not uttering a single word to either me or the fuming woman behind us.
As we advance through the corridor, I hear a distant chatter, probably between a man and a woman. Switching into a combat stance, I signal my temporary companions to quiet their footsteps.
As I look over the corner, I spot the imperial captain from before and a single other soldier. They are just in the process of opening the gate on the other side of the tower. Realising we must divide and conquer, I give a signal to prepare for an attack. After all, just ahead there are two more soldiers, and fighting at a disadvantage is not something I am keen on.
I glance back to gauge the reactions of my companions. Both Ulfric and Ralof look determined and ready to fight. Aria seemed reluctant, I thought. After a second of observation, I realised something. It is not a problem with the act of killing. It's a problem with killing imperial soldiers.
This has turned into a difficult situation. For now, I have to ignore it, but without addressing it, it could turn ugly. "There's nothing I can do at the moment," I thought.
With a snap of the lock, we sprang into action. The captain managed to turn after hearing our sprint. The other soldier wasn't so lucky.
With an overhead swing, I cut a long, jagged scar along the poor man's back. His leather armour failing to protect him, he fell to the ground, screaming in agony.
Not giving the screaming boy any more of my valuable time, I turn to the other enemy combatant. As I turn my eyes on her, I see the captain blocking a swing from Ralf and an upcoming swing from Ulfric.
Ah, an opportune moment to try out my new abilities. Grasping for something within my soul, I smirk as a bright glow of blue flames manifests in my outstretched palm. Discharging the spell, I observe my flaming skull race towards the unaware captain.
The moment it meets its mark, the woman gasps in pain. Her skin turning pale, she falls onto one knee, shallow breaths leaving her throat in quick intervals. The rest stand back as I slowly make my way to her.
She tries to swing at me, but I quickly block the strike with my scythe and turn the motion into a disarming turn. In the end, she is left lying on the floor, her sword in some dark corner.
As I pull on another soul string, a sickly turquoise glow emanates from my other hand. Pointing at the woman on the floor, I make a pulling motion. In effect, she starts spasming as a purple mist leaves her body and is absorbed into my hand.
A second later, the body stops spasming, and its eyes gain a dull edge to them. I despondently confirmed that my magicka reserves had been replenished.
I just killed someone and felt nothing. a weird, but not unwelcome reality. Although if you squinted hard enough, I guess I was also responsible for Lokir's death. Eh, whatever.
Turning to the boy on the ground, I grimace. His screaming was starting to tick me off. A scythe swing later, blissful silence pervaded the room.
Unfortunately, I needed to break the temporary peace. "We need to move." As I said, I pointed to the only female member of our group and then to the stormcloak corpse nearby. "Put that armour on; you're going to need it if you plan on making it out of here alive." After a few seconds, I heard her follow my order.
While the dragonborn was putting the armour on and the rest were helping her, I reached within myself to grasp for my necromantic powers. Pointing to the male corpse, I tried pushing my intent into it.
The moment a white, slimy smoke started dripping from my hand, I gave a little smile. Mentally guiding it forward, my smirk turned into a grin.
The corpse convulsed a few times before its complexion turned deathly pale. As the well-known swirling, blue tongues of death magic dragged my new minion onto his feet,
I raised a surprised eyebrow as I looked over the thing. I don't think they had glowing red eyes in the game. Oh well, who cares? As long as I can make it do my bidding, I sure don't.
Necromancer slot filled (1/5)
Gain more slots by levelling your Necromancer level.
Huh, I have way more slots than in the game. Then again, I am a pure necromancer and not a jack of all trades like the dragonborn in the game.
Turning to gauge the reactions of my party, I give them a challenging look. Even if they were adverse to my nature as a shepherd of the dead, they had to rely on me and my aid in leading them out of here.
I needn't have bothered, not really. What greated me was either a pleasently surprised grin or a begrudging acceptance; I am sure you can guess who had which expression.
Having been given silent approval, I turn to the captain's body to continue my vile deeds of breaking the natural order of life and death. Boy, I am having way too much fun, huh?
Necromancer slot filled (3/5)
Some corpses need more than one slot to animate; the higher your necromancer stage and conjuration level, the stronger the undead a single slot can contain.
Ah, that might be a bit of a problem. There's nothing that can't be fixed by levelling the necromancer class. Speaking of that,
Jobs levelled up.
Conjuration 1–3
Two-handed 1–2
Well, I guess I should pay more attention to the notifications my system gives me. Oh well, that's something to keep in mind for the future.
Not looking back, I advance forward, my two animated corpses following in my wake. After a second, I hear three more pairs of footsteps following.
As I walk down the stairs, I send my undead forward and pay close attention to their movement. I was afraid that they would walk like typical zombies. Fortunately, I needn't have worried; their steps were straight and assured.
It's certainly a relief; imagine just how awkward it would be were my minions to trip over their own feet.
When we came up onto the supply room, I didn't even bat an eye at the falling rubble up ahead. With a mental tug, the undead captain opened the door to our left.
"There are two enemy combatants just up ahead; make sure you are ready. One of them is better armoured, so if I were you, I would look out for that." Seeing their nods of understanding, I ordered the shumbling animations to enter the room.
Well, when I said enter the room, I meant storm in and turn any hostiles into bloody chunks of meat. While these two had fun slaughtering their former comrades, I took every potion I saw.
Noticing one of the imperial soldiers trying to take a swing at me, I grinned. Well, this ought to be fun.
Aria
When she and the two stormcloaks entered the room, as indicated by the necromancer, they all froze.
One of the imperial soldiers was lying on the ground, being stabbed over and over by the reanimated corpses of his comrades. But, considering the state of the second soldier, he got off relatively easily.
The necromancer they were forced to temporarily work with was cackling in sick glee as he held the armoured imperial in a death grip. She watched as his hand started glowing that sickeningly blue colour.
As milliseconds passed, Aria watched the flesh fall to the ground, sizzling. But that wasn't the worst thing about it. That dobious honour belonged to the blood-freezing shriek that left the necromancer's victim's throat.
Even if she managed to get that sight out of her mind, Aria doubted she would be able to do the same with that shrill shriek. If they got out of this hell on Nirn alive, there was no doubt in her mind that that sound would be exactly what her nightmares would contain.
Aria might have been a mere thief, but she was quite used to the brutality of this world. But, in the end, even that experience wasn't able to prepare her for something like that.
There was another thing about her unlikely companion that disgusted her to no end. The sheer senseless brutality he was exhibiting didn't exactly endear him to her.
Then there was the matter of him being a practitioner of the dark arts and a Stormcloak sympathiser to boot. The current circumstances might be difficult, but that didn't change the fact that she was a loyal subject of the empire.
She was a thief, yes, but that was more out of necessity than any need for extensive wealth. While on the topic, Lokir, It wasn't like they were close or something like that. Hell, she met the man a mere two days ago. But still, the way he was murdered disgusted and angered her greatly.
As she glared at the Necromancer's back, she vowed to herself that as soon as she didn't need his help, she was getting rid of him for the greater good of all Nirn.
Erato
This is fun. I internally cackled to myself as I turned the poor man's face in my hand into a meaty goo.
His body spasmed, and he tried to make a last effort to resist. Finally, he went limp and fell to the ground.
Now, here's a question: Do I want to get another armoured corpse? Or do I want to get the weaker one and leave a slot open?
Massaging my eyebrows, I go over the stuff that is going to happen soon. After a second of consideration, I shrugged and pointed to the armoured corpse. There aren't going to be any other raise-worthy corpses any time soon.
Well, there was that magic caster, but it wasn't the time to experiment with undead mages. Who knows, the magicka within him might even allow him to break my control.
System, do I get to dismiss my undead?
Yes, you do. If you want to let go of any of your undead, just point to them and try to take away the energy you enchanted the corpse with.
Oh well, that's awfully convenient. Well, whatever.
Necromancer slot filled (5/5)
As the second of my armoured puppets is lifted to its feet, I glance at the door that will lead us deeper into the bowls of this place.
Swinging my scythe to the side and making a bloody mark on the ground, I look around to make sure my undead puppets are done with their manslaughter.
Making a sweeping motion, I order my undead to advance forward.
Level up: 1–2.
Jobs levelled up.
Conjuration 3–4
Two-handed 2–3
Ah, yes, the levels. Swiping the window away from the middle of my vision, I put my scythe on my shoulder. I wonder if I could make it appear in a different place since this might be a little bit bothersome in the middle of a battle.
On a higher note, I discovered that levelling up resets my health, magicka, and stamina. Anyway, I probably should get something like the flames or sparks spell. Why? Well, the skulls do deal a lot of damage, but they also consume quite a bit of my magicka reserves.
And trust me, running out of magicka in the middle of a fight is the last way I would want to go down. Plus, I hadn't run out of it yet, so I don't know if it's going to be painful or something like that.
As the sound of clashes and warcries made its way to my ears, I raised my head slightly. Well, I guess I have to hurry; it just simply wouldn't do to let my meat shields die without protecting me. Besides, I will be happy to read over an actual arcane tome; who knows what secrets it might contain?
Oh well, all at the right time, I guess. Throwing a glance over my shoulder to make sure my companions were ready to advance, I readied my weapon of choice.
We all rushed down the stairs, weapons first. Of the five people, two were our enemies, and with such a huge advantage in numbers, we were bound to win. It was only a matter of time.
As I charged the cawled old man, I smirked. It was time for my first clash with a fellow magic caster. Swinging my scythe down, I only grinned wider as he dodged.
The torturer showered me in a rain of sparks. Let me tell you, the sensation was not pleasant, as my frown signified. It was like losing blood, but a thousand times worse.
Surprisingly enough, my scythe, which I raised instinctively to fend off the sparks, actually managed to stop the spell in its tracks. My opponent, just as shocked as I was, didn't manage to react in time as I spun, throwing momentum into the swing.
As a result, his head rolled away from his rapidly descending body. Another result of my little spin trick was the residue sparks shooting off somewhere out of my sight.
Turning around, I looked over my meat shields to make sure I didn't kill any of them. Luckily, the spell managed to miss all of them. Exhaling in relief, I looked at the body of the torturer's assistant. It was marred with all manner of cuts and bruises. Well, I guess that's what happens when you try to fight nine opponents at once.
As I went to get the magical tome in the cage, I noticed a displeased expression on the dragonborn's face as she looked at the imperial corpses. This might prove to be a problem in the future, one I should probably make note of.
Before anyone could even propose picking the lock on the cage, I swung my scythe in a graceful arch. As a result, the lock fell in a shower of sparks into a graceless heap.
Reaching into the cage, I snatched the magical books and any little septims I might have found. Unlike I expected, the coins were not all gold. Some were copper, some were silver. And that's another difference from the source material. What next, Thomas the Dragon Engine?
I probably shouldn't joke about something like that, lest it come true. Anyway, I made sure no one was watching and stuck my hand into the boundless abyss of my inventory.
For now, I did not want anything that could knock me out of combat to happen. After all, some altercations have happened, and who knows how the acquisition of spells might have changed? For all I know, I might be knocked into a realm of oblivion or something of that kind.
With no one the wiser, I opened a gate to my personal storage under the mage's body; perhaps I just might be able to gain some knowledge from studying it.
And before you ask, no, I didn't try walking in there yet. Why? Oh well, you know I am a little bit starved for time at the moment.
Ah, but where was I? Ah yes, we should move forward, shouldn't we? At that, my eyebrows creased. Why, then, are they arguing over something?
As I came a little bit closer to figure out the topic of their discussion, I called up my status menu.
Status
Status
Name: Erato
Title: None
Level: 2
Health: 100
Magicka: 100
Stamina: 100
Class: Necromancer 1
Necromancer slot filled: 5/5
Jobs:
Conjuration: 4
Two-handed: 3
Destruction: 1
Perk points: 1
I looked over the changes made to my status window with a raised eyebrow. I must admit, it's certainly appealing. The only problem I could see with that change was that I was not notified of something like that happening.
Throughout your playthrough, the system will adapt to your preferences. If you have any requests, feel free to voice them.
Very well, I shall keep that in mind. Now, back to the situation at hand. As I finally entered the range in which I could hear their discussion, I gained a curious expression.
"We are truly lucky that Talos chose to send us a helping hand in the form of that necromancer." Said one of the two male Stormcloak soldiers we managed to save.
"Indeed, the moment we get a chance, we should show our gratitude by performing a right of sacrifice." Answered his female companion.
"Agreed, but for now we should move forward, so we might have that chance." The answer came from Ulfric as he started forward.
Huh, that's odd. I was under the impression that Nords didn't look so kindly on necromancy. Then again, it just might be another one of the changes in this world.
Well, I guess I will have to ask one of them when we get a free minute. Anyway, Ulfric was right, because I certainly did not fancy becoming dragon food.
With our group counting ten members, it was a little bit more difficult moving through the narrow corridors. I was sure to send my undead to take point. After all, I could raise more of them; the leaving members of our group, not so much.
Another plus was the fact that if my animations managed to score a kill, my conjuration level would rise.
We ventured further into the bowls of the fortress with my companions in blue, snarling angrily at every Nord body we came across. What was more worrying were the little smiles Aria managed to sneak in unnoticed every time a snarl came from one of the others.
As we came up onto the large cave, I gestured for them to stop. Surprisingly enough, they actually listened. Huh, saving someone's life really binds you to them.
I carefully listened, trying to drown out the sound of rushing water. Finally, my patience was rewarded with an actual result.
"Orders are to wait here until General Tulius arrives." The moment I heard that, I ordered my animations to charge forward and draw the archer's fire.
A second later, I followed with the rest. I looked for the closest lightly armoured soldier. When I saw her, I charged scythe first.
To my surprise, she actually managed to block my overhead swing. Grimacing, I applied more force, and her hands began to tremble.
A second later, I felt a lancing stab of pain below my stomach. With the soldier slipping her sword away from my scythe, I lost my balance and fell to the ground.
-21 hp
Another impact made itself known on my shoulder a moment later.
-34 hp
The moment I fell, the woman I was fighting went off in search of another enemy to fight.
Oh, that was not going to fly.
Grasping the air, I manifested my scythe and struck with all my might at her right leg. In a moment of shock, she fell next to me. For a moment, she just ley there.
A moment too long. Within that moment, I managed to crawl to her and touch her bare shoulder.
With a blast of steal life, the woman gasped and winced in pain at the same time. Her eyes frantically looked for the assailant, not realising the threat I still posed.
I managed to crawl onto her pale frame. With a firm grip, I clasped my hands on her face. Pushing my thumbs into her eye sockets, I relished her wine of pure agony.
That, coupled with my refilling HP, made me grin sadistically. No one gets to attack me and live.
A second later, her feeble struggling and thrashing ceased as her soul left her body.
As I stood up, I scowled at my own stupidity. I somehow managed to forget I was a squishy magic caster. This was certainly an informative experience.
Snapping my fingers, I called my armoured soldiers to my side and elected to render ranged support with my flaming skulls.
Truly, I knew I could get a bit overeager, but not to such a level. In that moment, I made a mental note to quell such idiotic notions of arrogance in the future.
Could it be possible that my mind was somehow affected by the system? Good question, one for which I would seek an answer later, as I was a little bit occupied at the moment.
I looked up at the sound of an arrowhead bouncing off a metal surface. Low and behold, two imperial archers seemed to have realised that I was the greatest threat on the battlefield. Although I guess Ulfric was a close second, what with his dragon shouts.
Throwing a few projectiles their way, I closely looked over what remained of the imperial forces. Somehow I had a feeling that there were more of them than I remembered. Certainly something pending further investigation, but not now.
Catching an unlucky imperial with a rey of steal life, I watched as my magicka metre started replenishing itself. It's certainly a good thing I won't have to slurp up any potions in the middle of combat.
Spotting an injured stormcloak, I send the excess HP his way. I smiled as he jumped up and delivered a particularly hard jab at his dance partner.
Finally, it seemed like all that remained were the two archers. Looking beneath them, I saw that pool of oil, or whatever that was.
As I threw a flaming skull at it I raised an eyebrow, as nothing seemed to happen. It would seem like the flaming skulls truly did not possess the fire attribute. Oh well, you live and learn, I guess.
Before I could repeat my assault, one of the bowwielders was struck by an arrow in the knee. How ironic.
As his partner went down screaming, the second archer tried knocking another arrow. This time, I was the one to be faster.
As my (un-)flaming skull hit him right in the solar plexus, the imperial's complexion went deathly pale. With a loss of strength, his bow clattered to the ground. A second later, the soldier followed, his dry cough leaving his suddenly parched throat.
I scratched my chin in wonderment. When I got a free while, I probably should experiment with the reactions of various races' physical and psychological reactions to being affected by my necromantic powers.
I shook my head from side to side to rid myself of such notions. For now, I would have to get to safety and secure lodging. From there, I could make all kinds of detours to test my full abilities.
I watched as my allies, with the assistance of my undead puppets, advanced on their enemies. With swift swings, the oil mixed with freshly spilled blood.
"Check their equipment; we might need a few extra potions or arrows." That was Ulfric as he walked towards the exit, gesturing to the imperial corpses.
Silently, I assigned my forces the same task. The rebel leader was right after all; a few extra potions never hurt anyone.
Noticing that Ulfric himself was studying the way deeper in, I decided to approach him.
As he turned around, I raised an eyebrow. He seemed to possess keen senses, seeing as he was able to notice my approach even though I wasn't wearing anything that could make any noise.
I looked over him. To be honest, there weren't many changes from the source material. Well, besides the fact that the light in his eyes seemed to be so much more intense than what I remembered,
"Ah, necromancer, allow me to give you my thanks for assisting us." As he gave his thanks, he presented me with his mussled hand to shake.
Switching my weapon from one hand to the other, I grabbed his outstretched limb, and we shook hands. "You are most welcome, though if I were you, I would wait to give such thanks until we were out of here."
He chuckled. "Wise words, my friend. When that time comes, we should converse." Giving him a singular nod, I turned back to the soldiers to see if they were done.
Confirming my suspicions, I looked at what they managed to gather. Overall, it was 3 health potions and a bunch of arrows, which I didn't bother counting because I wouldn't be using them anyway.
With that done, I gave a single hard kick to the leaver to lead further. As we all crossed it, I looked back. I don't know why, but I was expecting some rubble to destroy the bridge. Oh well, just another one of the subtle changes reminding me that this wasn't a game anymore.
You know, any time an individual comes to that conclusion, they have a mental breakdown, drowning in self-pity because they actually killed someone. Me? Oh, I was fully conscious of that fact; it just wouldn't stop me from doing such in the future.
Because, in the end, it wasn't so different from what I was used to doing back home. The only true difference was that I used to kill others financially, causing them to suffer until they died. Looking at it from that angle, I was doing my victims a favour since I was just killing them. Plus, in this world, there is actually an afterlife.
With such thoughts accompanying me, our little company advanced in the direction of the exit from the place we found ourselves in.
Eventually, we happened upon a nest of giant spiders. After we were done slaughtering the menaces, a thought entered my head. To be precise: giant undead spiders. That did put a sadistic smirk on my lips. Certainly something to keep in mind for the future.
Finally, after ridding a certain bear of its life, we spied a sign of light. When the stormcloaks amongst us charged to get out, I was a little taken aback. Didn't those fools realise there could be an ambush waiting outside?
Still, when the rest of us realised that we didn't hear any sounds of combat, we emerged from the cave as well.
The rebels were celebrating the fact that they were able to get out of there alive. Suddenly, a great roar could be heard. Instinctively, both me and Ulfric shushed the rest down.
We waited with deep breaths for the dragon to leave. Well, they did. I knew that Alduin wouldn't pay us any attention.
I stood up and looked for the rebel leader. I still needed to have that talk with him, after all.