If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Massive Draugr Scourges wrapped in thick armor, and heavily armed Draugr Wights, their blue eyes snapping toward the intruders in perfect, lethal synchronization.
Kvenel raised his ethereal, dual wielded blades toward the ceiling. The ghost unhinged his jaw, taking a massive, deep breath, preparing to unleash the devastating fury of the Thu'um upon the mortals who dared to breach his tomb.
The ethereal air around the central dais began to violently distort, vibrating with the devastating, ancient syllables of the Thu'um that had been gathering in his dead lungs for centuries.
Aerion did not give the shade the opportunity to speak a single word.
"Strike!" Aerion roared, his melodic voice completely eclipsed by the crackle of localized arcane apocalypse.
He thrust both of his hands forward, bypassing the slower, heavy hitting spells in favor of absolute, instantaneous thermal suppression. He dual cast a massive, continuous stream of concentrated Flames, directly overlapping the twin beams of superheated fire into a blindingly bright, roaring pillar of raw thermal energy.
The concentrated fire violently slammed into Kvenel's ethereal chest just as the ghost attempted to vocalize the Shout.
The sheer, overwhelming kinetic and thermal shock of the master-level destruction magic acted like a physical battering ram. Kvenel let out a horrific, echoing shriek, a sound like tearing metal and freezing wind, as the flames violently staggered his spectral form.
The ancient warlord was thrown backward, crashing heavily against his own stone throne, his Shout entirely, brutally interrupted.
"Do not let your guard down for a fraction of a second!"
Aerion commanded, his voice echoing over the roar of the flames as he swept his golden eyes across the sprawling chamber. "The high tier dead possess the Voice! Break their lungs before they can breathe!"
The cavernous sanctum completely erupted into absolute, terrifying chaos.
The Draugr Scourges and Wights, heavily armored and eyes burning with hateful blue light, surged forward from the shadows of the alcoves, attempting to swarm the interlopers.
But the strike team was a perfectly honed, lethal machine.
Lydia did not draw her standard Whiterun broadsword. She reached over her shoulder and drew the massive, flawlessly forged Ebony Greatsword she had stripped from the Deathlord above. The dark, heavy metal practically hummed in the dim light. She stepped into the absolute vanguard, utilizing the immense weight of the weapon to devastating effect.
A heavily armored Draugr Wight lunged at her, raising an ancient battleaxe.
Lydia didn't bother to block. She swung the Ebony Greatsword in a massive, sweeping horizontal arc. The sheer mass of the ebony, driven by her fierce Nordic strength, cleaved cleanly through the Wight's ancient iron shield, shattering it into splinters, and buried itself deeply into the creature's ribcage, instantly throwing the undead warrior backward into the dirt.
To her right, Aeloria took a deep, shuddering breath, her Dragonborn instincts flaring to life.
A massive, towering Draugr Scourge stepped out from behind a stone pillar, its jaw dropping open as it prepared to unleash an Unrelenting Force shout to scatter the mortal vanguard.
Aeloria beat it to the punch.
"FUS RO!"
The sharp, devastating cone of raw kinetic force violently erupted from the Dragonborn's lips. The invisible shockwave slammed directly into the massive Draugr Scourge before it could complete its own syllables.
The sheer impact lifted the heavy, armored corpse entirely off its feet, hurling it backward through the air until it violently smashed against the stone wall, collapsing in a heap of shattered bone and dented metal.
"Keep the pressure on!" Valdemar roared, rushing forward to drive his sword through the chest of a staggered Wight, his heavy steel shield bashing aside a rusted sword strike.
From the shadows near the entrance, Jenassa operated with terrifying, surgical precision. Her Dwarven bow hummed continuously. She didn't aim for center mass, she aimed entirely for the joints and the vocal cords.
Every time a Draugr opened its mouth to Shout, a heavy, steel tipped arrow violently buried itself in the creature's throat, completely silencing the ancient magic before it could manifest.
Aerion orchestrated the battlefield from the center, fluidly dancing between elemental destruction and divine restoration.
When a cluster of Wights attempted to flank Valdemar, Aerion shifted his matrix.
Purify.
A blinding, searing beam of golden white holy light swept across the right flank. The divine radiation aggressively incinerated the necromantic magicka holding the Wights together, causing their ancient armor to smoke and their bones to instantly turn to brittle ash.
The combat was incredibly fierce, and the sheer volume of high tier undead made minor injuries an absolute, mathematical inevitability.
A Draugr Scourge managed to deflect one of Jenassa's arrows, rushing forward and delivering a heavy, glancing blow with a warhammer against Valdemar's left shoulder plate. The Housecarl grunted in pain as the metal dented, but he held the line, driving his shield into the creature's face. Aeloria caught a shallow slice across her thigh from a Wight's ancient sword, the rusted blade managing to find a small gap in her Steel Plate armor.
But they did not break. They fought with the desperate, coordinated fury of veterans.
Slowly, methodically, the sheer numbers of the ancient dead were brutally whittled down. The floor of the Elder's Cairn was soon littered with the shattered, smoldering, and purified remains of the Draugr Scourges and Wights.
With the peripheral threats entirely eradicated, the entire strike team collapsed their formation inward, turning their absolute, undivided attention directly upon the master of the tomb.
Kvenel the Tongue had recovered from Aerion's initial thermal bombardment. The spectral warlord roared, a chilling, echoing sound that dropped the ambient temperature of the room by twenty degrees. He lunged forward from the dais, his translucent, ghostly form gliding over the stone steps, wielding the physical, legendary blades of Okin and Eduj with terrifying speed.
Aeloria swung the Axe of Morthal in a massive, overhead cleave.
The blazing red steel passed completely through Kvenel's spectral shoulder, meeting absolutely no physical resistance. The fire enchantment flared, causing the ghost to hiss in pain, but the kinetic force of the blow was entirely negated by his ethereal form.
Kvenel countered instantly, swinging Okin. The ancient, freezing handaxe slammed heavily against Aeloria's breastplate. The physical weapon connected solidly, the intense frost enchantment instantly coating her steel armor in a thick layer of crackling ice, causing the Dragonborn to gasp as the biting cold penetrated to her skin.
"Physical strikes are inefficient against an ethereal spectre like it!" Aerion yelled, reading the combat geometry. "Disengage! Pull back and let me overload his core!"
Aeloria, Valdemar, and Lydia immediately broke their melee engagement, rapidly backpedaling away from the dais to clear the line of fire.
Aerion stepped fully into the vanguard. His golden eyes burned with absolute, unadulterated arcane supremacy.
He didn't hold back. He tapped directly into the deepest, most terrifying reserves of his vastly augmented Magicka pool, dual casting the fire spells of his destruction capabilities.
Incinerate.
Two massive, hyper condensed spheres of blinding, red hot plasma materialized in his palms. He thrust his hands forward, unleashing a continuous, roaring torrent of superheated energy directly into Kvenel's spectral chest.
The ghost could not phase through the plasma. The sheer, overwhelming density of the magical energy violently interacted with Kvenel's ethereal form.
The spectral warlord shrieked, an agonizing, high pitched wail that threatened to shatter the stone pillars. The ghost thrashed wildly, attempting to push through the flames to reach the High Elf, but the kinetic force of the plasma held him firmly in place.
"Burn!" Aerion commanded coldly, funneling even more power into the matrix.
The intense, localized supernova entirely overloaded Kvenel's magical cohesion. The ghostly white light comprising his form violently destabilized, shifting rapidly into a sickly, burning orange, before entirely collapsing inward upon itself.
With a final, echoing sigh that sounded like rushing wind, Kvenel the Tongue violently sublimated.
The spectral form completely dissolved into a glowing, ethereal pool of blue ectoplasm that splashed harmlessly against the ancient stone floorboards.
CLANG. CLATTER.
The moment the ghost vanished, the magical grip holding his weapons entirely failed. The physical, legendary blades of Eduj and Okin dropped heavily from thin air, clattering loudly against the stone directly in front of the glowing pool.
The tomb fell entirely, profoundly silent, save for the heavy, exhausted panting of the strike team.
"The sanctum is clear," Aerion announced, lowering his hands as the magical plasma faded from his palms, leaving only the smell of ozone in the air.
He walked gracefully forward, stepping carefully around the glowing pool of ectoplasm. He bent down and retrieved the two legendary ancient Nordic weapons. He could feel the latent, freezing enchantments humming within the cold steel.
He turned and offered the blades to his heavily burdened Housecarl.
"Lydia, secure these artifacts within your pack," Aerion instructed smoothly, completely maintaining the illusion of his physical limitations. "They are highly valuable relics and weapons."
"At once, my Thane," Lydia nodded, taking the freezing blades and carefully strapping them to the side of her heavy leather backpack, ensuring the sharp edges did not cut the material.
As Lydia secured the weapons, Aerion's sharp eyes caught a faint, pulsing purple glow resting amidst the dust and scattered bone fragments near the base of the throne.
He approached the dais and leaned down. Resting upon a small stone pedestal was a flawless, masterfully cut Grand Soul Gem.
The crystalline structure was glowing with a deep, vibrant, swirling violet light, indicating that it was already fully charged with a massive, high tier soul.
Aerion's transmigrator mind instantly calculated the enchanting value.
'A filled Grand Soul Gem. Perfect for high level enchanting,' Aerion smiled softly to himself.
He didn't hand this to Lydia. He casually picked up the glowing gem and slipped it beneath the flap of his dark leather satchel, seamlessly absorbing it directly into his digital void.
[Item Stored: Grand Soul Gem (Filled)]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 0.01 KG. Current Max Weight: 90.21 / 580 KG]
As the interface faded, Aeloria stepped up beside him, her chest heaving slightly as the magical frost on her armor began to melt. She looked around the cavernous, debris filled room, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Aerion," Aeloria asked, leaning heavily on the haft of her battleaxe. "Where is the Horn? We cleared the tomb, but I don't see any obvious pedestal holding the artifact we came here to search for."
Aerion's heart skipped a beat, but his flawless, aristocratic mask did not slip for a fraction of a millisecond. It was time for the ultimate sleight of hand.
"It is likely secured within a primary reliquary to protect it from the elements and the grave robbers," Aerion theorized smoothly, projecting absolute scholarly confidence. He turned to face the exhausted team. "Spread out. Search the immediate vicinity behind the throne and along the perimeter walls. It must be here."
As Aeloria, Valdemar, Lydia, and Jenassa immediately fanned out across the room, carefully inspecting the ancient stone alcoves, Aerion walked deliberately toward the absolute rear of the dais, stepping directly behind the massive stone throne.
Resting in the shadows, covered in centuries of dust and cobwebs, was a massive, heavily reinforced, iron banded steel chest. The true boss chest of Volunruud.
Aerion positioned his body carefully, completely blocking the line of sight from the rest of the room. He reached down and gripped the heavy iron latch, hauling the massive lid upward with a loud, protesting creak of rusted hinges.
The chest was loaded with high tier, randomized loot.
Aerion's eyes rapidly scanned the contents. Resting upon a small pile of loose gold coins was a pair of masterfully forged, glowing green Glass Boots, alongside a heavy, immaculate Dwarven Sword and a thick Dwarven Shield.
He had to move with terrifying speed.
He engaged his digital interface, bypassing the physical limitations of space and time. He mentally grabbed the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, which had been resting securely in his void for days, and commanded the system to manifest it directly inside the physical chest.
[Item Retrieved: Horn of Jurgen Windcaller]
[Inventory Weight Decreased by 1.00 KG. Current Max Weight: 89.21 / 580 KG]
The massive, beautifully carved, rune etched horn flawlessly materialized in the real world, dropping silently onto the pile of gold inside the chest.
In the exact same microsecond, Aerion mentally selected the valuable loot currently resting inside the chest and violently absorbed it all into his digital void, clearing the space to make the Horn the prominent centerpiece.
[Items Stored: 1,000 Septims, Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, Dwarven Shield]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 6.00 KG. Current Max Weight: 95.21 / 580 KG]
The entire, complex spatial exchange took less than a tenth of a second. The system executed the commands flawlessly.
Aerion immediately reached down into the chest, his long fingers wrapping around the smooth, ancient bone of the Horn. He lifted it high into the air, turning around to face the chamber.
"I have found it!" Aerion announced loudly, his melodic voice echoing with triumphant, scholarly joy.
Aeloria immediately ceased her search of a nearby alcove, spinning around. When she saw the massive, intricately carved Horn grasped in the High Elf's hand, a look of absolute, profound relief completely washed over her exhausted features.
She quickly jogged across the dais, her heavy boots clanking against the stone, and stopped in front of him.
"By the Eight, we actually found it," Aeloria breathed, a massive, genuinely happy smile splitting her face. "Finally. We got exactly what we came here for."
Aerion smiled warmly, offering the ancient artifact to her.
"Take it, Aeloria," Aerion instructed softly, his tone deeply respectful. "You are the Dragonborn. You are the one the mountain summoned. It is fitting that you should be the one to carry the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller back to the masters."
Aeloria hesitated for a fraction of a second, humbled by the gesture, before reaching out with both of her steel plated gloved hands to accept the ancient artifact. She cradled it carefully against her breastplate.
She looked down at the Horn, and then looked back up at the towering High Elf, her bright blue eyes shining with absolute, unfiltered gratitude.
"Thank you, Aerion," Aeloria whispered, her voice thick with genuine emotion. "For everything. For guiding us, for keeping us safe, and for your magic. If I had tried to come down into this crypt alone... I honestly do not know if I would have survived the descent, let alone defeated that ghost. I owe you my life."
Aerion offered a small, incredibly soft, deeply genuine smile. The deception was massive, but the camaraderie forged in the dark was entirely real.
"You owe me nothing, Aeloria," Aerion reassured her gently. "We fight as one."
Valdemar, Lydia, and Jenassa gathered around the dais, looking at the secured artifact with equal measures of relief and exhaustion.
"The trial is complete," Valdemar noted, rolling his bruised shoulder. "We should return to the surface."
"There is one final matter to attend to before we leave this sanctum," Aerion interjected smoothly, pointing a long finger toward a dark, narrow stone archway situated directly behind the heavy chest. "The architecture of these ancient fanes typically houses a site of ancient power beyond the primary resting place. Let us investigate."
He led the group past the chest, stepping through the dark archway.
They walked up a short, steep flight of ancient, winding stone stairs, the air growing noticeably colder and vibrating with a strange, ambient hum.
They emerged into a small, open air cavern situated directly above the main crypt. Moonlight filtered down through a massive, jagged hole in the cavern roof, illuminating the absolute center of the room.
Dominating the space was a massive, semi circular wall of solid, dark gray stone. The entire surface of the wall was intricately, meticulously carved with jagged, ancient draconic text.
A Word Wall.
As they stepped into the cavern, the ambient hum violently escalated into a deep, ominous, rhythmic chanting that seemed to emanate directly from the stone itself. The voices were ancient, echoing with the power of the Dovah.
Aeloria immediately stepped forward, her eyes wide, completely drawn to the massive structure.
As the Dragonborn approached the wall, a single, highly specific word carved into the center of the stone began to violently flare with a blinding, ethereal blue light. The ancient magic recognized the blood of Akatosh flowing through her veins.
The chanting reached a deafening crescendo. A thick, swirling stream of blue magical energy suddenly erupted from the glowing word, tearing through the air and slamming directly into Aeloria's chest.
She gasped sharply, stumbling backward a half step as the profound, ancient knowledge flooded her mind.
"I... I know the word," Aeloria whispered, clutching the Horn tightly to her chest, her eyes wide with shock. "It means 'Life'. But... it is hollow. I understand the meaning, but I cannot feel the power to speak it. It is as if a piece of the magic is missing."
Aerion nodded slowly, understanding the mechanics perfectly.
"You lack the soul required to unlock it, Aeloria," Aerion explained smoothly, standing a few feet behind her. "You absorbed the soul of the dragon on the plains to unlock the Unrelenting Force. To utilize this new Word, you must inevitably hunt and consume another."
Aeloria let out a heavy sigh, nodding in understanding.
As she stared at the wall, Aerion stood perfectly still, fully expecting the system to remain silent. He was not the Dragonborn, and he had not actively defeated a dragon to harvest its soul.
But suddenly, the familiar, brilliant golden text violently flared in his peripheral vision, completely obscuring the dark cavern.
[Word of Power Detected: Laas (Life)]
[Systemic Anomaly: Proximity to Dragonborn Resonance Event has exposed the Word's raw conceptual.]
[Would you like to learn the first word of the Aura Whisper Shout: Laas (Life)?]
[YES / NO]
Aerion's breath hitched in his throat.
The system was actively, aggressively breaking the fundamental, mythological rules of the universe specifically to augment his power.
It wasn't just giving him the knowledge, it was offering him the immediate, usable manifestation of the Shout without requiring a single dragon soul to unlock it. He was being granted the literal powers of a demigod simply for being in the same room. Aerion's golden eyes burned with an absolute, terrifying intensity as he mentally slammed his full will against the interface. YES.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 540/540 Stamina: 560/560 Magicka: 750/750
Level: 145
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+3)/Lightning(+1)/Frost(+1)) (Level 42/76/41), Restoration (Healing(+1)/Purify(+2)) (Level 31/25), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/26), Persuasion(+1) (Level 89), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 87), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor(+1) (Level 0), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii (Fade Spirit), Su (Air), & Laas (Life)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, Hide Boots Of Sneak, Gold Ruby Ring of Fortify Magicka, Iron Garnet Ring of Fortify Conjuration & Magicka Regen, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Honed Ancient Nord Sword of Sparks, Gold Emerald Circlet, & Scroll of Fire Storm, Ring of Archery,Hide Boots of Stamina, Ancient Nord Sword of Absorbing, Iron Garnet Circlet, Iron Sapphire Circlet, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, & Dwarven Shield
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, Amethysts, Potions of Plentiful Magicka, Scroll of Conjure Familiar, & Scroll of Magelight
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, Iron Necklace, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), & Potions of Minor Magicka
4x Spider Eggs, Garnets, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
7x Vampires Dust
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)
Weight: 95.21 KG / 580 KG
Septims: 83,277