Cold as ever, Skyrim is at peace. Within the secluded woods near Morthal is a house, in which a bright and powerful fire emits light from the windows, giving a feeling of golden warmth shining across pale and unforgiving snow. Within the house sits Vargr, the greatest warrior in all of Nirn, his fame due to freeing Skyrim from Imperial rule, Thalmor supremacy, and the destruction of the Vampire Lord Harkon, to name a few of his many achievements, and his friends; Harriet, a harpy who sits on a barrel in the corner, fast asleep. Yunalesca, a little-known assassin. But she is not little-known due to lack of ability. No. Quite the opposite. The reason Yunalesca is so little-known is because almost everyone who has known her has not the breath left in their lungs to speak of what she has done, and that same assassin is sitting in the corner, sharpening blades for any instance of battle that may occur. And Nineve, a human with splendid mages robes, sits rather sleepily near the fire.
The quiet is disturbed by three quick knocks on the door. Nineve stays sitting, thinking deeply, seemingly confused about something. Yunalesca looks up quickly. "Who's there?" She says, looking directly at the door, while Harriet remains asleep, undisturbed. Vargr, having just gotten up to go to his trophy room to stuff a dead draugr, stops in his tracks, turning and walking towards the door, leaving the draugr to slump against the wall, a blank expression on it's face. Which, for some reason, has Yunalesca giggling to herself. The knocks stop, now that Vargr's footsteps are audible. He approaches the door as silently as he can, holding an axe hidden, ready to strike if need be. He opens the door. What he finds behind it is a man in a crimson cloak, hood pulled over his face, golden armor somewhat visible beneath the cloak. From what can be seen beneath the hood is a golden helm, fashioned like that of a classic knight, but the facial opening, in the shape of the cross, is entirely black, leaving the one viewing the face unable to see what is beneath it. This sight, seen from the opening in the doorway, awakens Harriet, the energy emanating from this man awakening her. She peers curiously at the mysterious stranger, whilst sipping from a thimble of ale. Nineve, setting down her drink, stands, her face clear of it's previous expression. Yunalesca sees this figure, and knows immediately who it is, continuing to sharpen her weapons. However, this is not the case with Vargr, whose experience with the world has taught him that a stranger in the door is more often than not an enemy.
"You're an Angel, I'm guessing?" He says, sheathing his axe upon recognizing the attire. The man walks into the house, not expecting an invitation. "Good evening, Vargr Snowhammer." The man pulls back his hood, revealing the rest of the golden helm he wears that he won't take off. "May I sit, O master of the household?" Ambrose says, mock-bowing to Vargr. While his face is not visible, it's obvious that he has a mirthful smile beneath the metal. "Of course." Says Vargr, in an equally mocking tone of pretentiousness, smiling as well. Vargr heads for dining room, gesturing for his friends to follow him. He sits at the head of the table, his back to the hearth, and pulls out a chair next to him, gesturing for Ambrose to sit. "We have much to discuss." Vargr says, understanding that if Ambrose is here, then the threat is grave. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Ambrose." She says, taking a seat at the table, across from Ambrose. "What's up?" Yunalesca inquires, also joining those at Vargr's table. Harriet, finally awake, vocalizes her confusion "Who the fuck is this? WHO DA FUK IS DIS??" as she hiccups, falls off the barrel (from which she may or may not have been drinking), and uses her wings to flutter weakly over to the table, perched on the back of a chair. "What a gentleman, Vargr. Also, I wish this thing was a toilet, too. I guess you can't have everything…" Ambrose says, a tone of pretend disapprovement in his voice. Nineve chuckles at this comment. "I agree with that. But…" Her face changes to on of concern. "Why are you here? You wouldn't have come to us if it weren't important." She says.
Her face changes like this because she notices something peculiar on Ambrose's face. Weariness, tiredness, and an expectation of something horrible. "I wanted to tell you that I'm very proud of the heroes that you are. You've become a lot since I first met you, and I wanted to relate to you that I'm glad that, should I have to go, someone will be able to take my place. There is a lot coming, and the only thing I can say is that I'm sorry." He says, his hand twitching, opening and closing quickly, and he stands up. Nineve notices this, and gets worried very quickly. "Ambrose, really? What the actual fuck? You better not fucking die on me, asshole." she says angrily at Ambrose. She doesn't seem to mind any kind of rudeness, gets up, and heads for the cellar. "I'm getting a drink." She says. Vargr looks around at the others at the table. "I think we should prepare for the worst. There's a storm coming, and it's shaking the foundations of reality. Kodlak spoke of this from Sovngarde. An apocalypse. And not the good kind. Ambrose, my friend, before you go, how can we best prepare?" he asks, drinking some of his mead and slamming the tankard down on the table, his chest heavy, anger and pain clear in his eyes. Yunalesca's silence is not a light one, but one of watchfulness, observing the situation carefully. Harriet, however, brings up an opposite, but equally interesting point: "uuuuu nuuuuu da apocalypse" hiccups snores, and then, falling back asleep, falls to the floor, uncaring of the damage. "I wish it wasn't to be, but so it must." Turning to Vargr, Ambrose says "Pray he never finds you. I have but a few things to give you, but I promise you the chance to live. I promised myself, and humanity that I will never let you down. I pray that we never meet again." He puts his hood on, and walks towards the door, his head down. As he turns towards the door, his cloak whirls behind him. He walks out the door, walking out into the blizzard, his form blending in with it, and walking into the night.
However, it is noticed that on the table, without the noticing of anyone who was actually sitting at it, a pile of items have appeared on the table. Amongst these are coins, the scent of which awakens Harriet. hiccups "Mister hooded man gave me coin! Yuss, in luvss nowww…" flying to the table, Harriet crash-lands into the gold, rolling around in it. Yunalesca looks through the loot, pulling out a purple-bluish black katana from amongst the pile, inspecting it with something like awe. Nineve walks back into the room with a giant and already almost-empty tankard of mead, looks at the loot, and notices Ambrose's absence. "So he left us stuff? Then we're screwed." She says and walks back into the kitchen. Vargr gets up quick. "That's it? Leave the gear and walk out? You know I'm not one to pray, friend!" he shouts, him standing up so quickly sending the chair flying into the wall, breaking it into pieces. he investigates the gear and the door, watching to see if he comes out. Vargr finds many sets of armor, an Angel-forged blade, a hammer with a head shaped like a dragon's head. Yunalesca gains many excellent spell tomes for stealth, poisons, and coins. Nineve gains many spell books as well, with a set of bow and arrows, of a foreign kind of forging-style, as well as vials with colorful liquids. Vargr, after having quickly taken all that fit his way of fighting, rushes out of the house, running to find Ambrose.
He sees him, walking still into the night. Vargr stands at the threshold of his door, on the outside, and creates a wall of spiky ice in front of Ambrose, blocking his path. Ambrose stops, and turns around, looking at Vargr. "You didn't think we were done speaking, did you?" Vargr says, his tone friendly, but more intense. "You said pray he doesn't find you.'HE' WHO?!" he insists, growing more spikes on the ice wall. Ambrose gives only this answer: "What lies beneath." He pulls his hood back again. "What matters is spending time with friends." he says, walking back inside, reentering the house. Vargr walks beside him as they walk back to the dining-room table. "You know better than I do what withholding information can entail. What's going on? We need legitimate answers, dammit!" He eyes his fellow adventurers, a light of intelligence gleaming in his eyes, figuring out his comrades, noting weaknesses, strengths, and the like. Nineve, walking back in once more, this time without tankard, goes to Ambrose. "Just so you know, this is for luck." Hugging Ambrose, who, being rather taller, felt like he was being hugged by a child. He slowly and politely separates himself from Nineve. "But c'mon!!! Look at the stuff! Especially these!" He says, holding up crystals with stars and seemingly infinite space in them.
As the night progresses, they enjoy themselves, drinking, laughing, telling stories, and Ambrose explaining the items and their uses. After many hours into the night, Ambrose stands up, and gets ready to leave. Vargr notices this, and says "I appreciate the gifts, honestly. But I must know. Is taking the crown a poor move? And who's after us? Furthermore, what's your hurry? There's no need for haste here." standing up, he looks at Ambrose with suspicion. “I think you are a good man, whether or not you wish to admit it. You are one of the best mortal soldiers I have ever encountered, but I do not think that politics, of any kind, suits you. I don’t think you will enjoy it, what with the balls and the parties and things that require you to actually TALK to people. I shudder at the thought of you trying to develop good social skills. First, before I answer any of your questions, look through! See what you guys want! Pick it out, and then we shall discuss what you feel must be discussed.” Ambrose says, watching the others with a certain intent in his eyes.
Suddenly, a noise is heard outside, like that of a marching army. Everyone stands up. Yunalesca readies her weapons. "Nineve, you should teleport us to the source. We need to see what this is. Give me somewhere stealthy." Vargr draws the Bloodskal blade, Harriet flies up and ready, an amulet from Ambrose dangling around her neck. They immediately appear in the town square of Solitude.
The night is silent. It seems darker than it normally it is at night, There are no stars shining above, only a black sky. There’s a fountain in the city square the heroes are in. It pours water consistently, lit with a warm yellow light by magic from beneath, making it beautiful. This, and the lanterns on the streets are the only form of illumination in the city. Yet even this light is obscured by the heavy fog pervading the city, both from within and without. Closer inspection reveals that this fog is not natural. There are no guards, no soldiers, no one. The only people in this city are civilians, and they are seemingly nowhere to be found. All is silent. This is the night. The night of blood and silence. Something’s coming.
Nineve, feeling uneasy, pulls out two scythes, glowing with magical and unnatural energy. Yunalesca looks around, drawing her Wakizashi in one hand, and the bluish-purple katana in the other hand. Vargr casts detect darkness to sense daedra, ghosts, demons, and anything of unnatural origin with evil alignment. "This silence is not good. Stay close to me." he says, drawing the Bloodskal blade. Harriet using her new amulet to become invisible. The night, silent as it was, brings a new sound to the orchestra of silence. Laughter. Like that of predator descending upon prey. Soldiers approach from the fog. Dremora, in full daedric armor. They have swords drawn, alit with Daedric fire, ready to fight. They come out of the fog, lighting it up from behind them with powerful magic, but not enough to see through.
From above, floating above the fountain, is an entity in a black and red daedric cloak, with a daedric mask. From the shadows, more faces appear. These daedric warriors in full metal gear are not alone. Monstrosities from Apocrypha are present in these silent shadows as well. But none of these enemies attack. The red and black cloaked entity, clearly the leader of this assault, spreads his arms out, and a burst of red waves across the city, reddening the sky with his evil power. “YOUR BLOOD IS IN MY FISTS, HEROES. THIS WORLD WILL BE MADE DEAF WITH THE SILENCE BROUGHT BY YOUR DEATH. YOUR SAVIOR IS GONE, YOUR GREATEST CHAMPION DEAD. THERE WILL BE NO ABSOLUTION. Have at them, men. They will be no great challenge. Not without their babysitter.” He says, mockingly. He watches as the soldiers descend, running towards you all rabidly, whilst the tentacles from the aberrants of Hermaeus Mora shoot out towards them all, to grab and crush and consume the adventurers.
Nineve charges into battle, using her scythes to cut the tentacles, slicing easily through them, with great speed, but are caught by a pair of daedric swords, wielded by a dremora warlord, and are twisted and spun up into the air. Then, the dremora warlord slashes at her sides, causing blood to pur from her sides greatly, while a tentacle wraps around her waist and lifts her into the air, tossing her into a building, her form hidden by rubble. Vargr shouts at the Daedric King "Greatest Champion? I'm RIGHT. HERE." taking up a crossbow in one hand, and a Lunar Ebony mace in the other. He fires at the daedra, four bolts, reloading as quickly as he can, his four bolts striking down two dremora and another killing an apocryphan horror, and the last one passing through, but not harming at all, the Daedric King, who blasts a burst of red energy at Vargr, who dodges out of the way. However, from the side, a large dremora, practically a tank, tackles Vargr from the side, knocking him off to the side, using a nearby lamp and smashing it on Vargr's head, burning him. Yunalesca, using her blades, cuts down the aberrant that tossed Nineve into a building, whilst also cutting down three dremora, but is grabbed by an aberrant and is slowly crushed while the Daedric King laughs. "What little warriors are these that you left to care for Nirn, Ambrose? I quiver at the thought of them trying to foil my schemes! Oooohhhh, I am so terrified!!!” The entity mocks, laughing at the pain and difficulty with his forces they're fighting.
Harriet notices the damage Nineve is undergoing, using her amulet to create a magical barrier around the two of them, and healing her, while Nineve bursts through the rubble, punching and slicing her way out. Vargr's bestial anger gives way, as does his skin to white fur, his canines becoming the teeth of an actual canine, his eyes holding cold winter rage, ears sharpening, and antlers coming from his head, like that of a mighty stag. Ending the dremora with his antlers, Vargr impales them through the enemy's throat, calling forth the spirits of fellow werewolves from the Hunting Grounds of Hircine and the Wild Hunt. Vargr rushes through the hordes of dremora and aberrations, fighting his way towards the Daedric King in a flurry of icy spikes and claws, slaying all in his path.
Yunalesca, from her arms positioned as pinned to her sides, pushes with blades outward with immense effort, cutting the restraints off. As Yunalesca falls and lands on the ground, she throws a poison dagger in mid-air at the aberrant, killing it with the deadly venom. Nineve, with Harriet on her shoulder, being healed constantly as she fights, says "Thank you, Harriet." and continues the onslaught. An aberrant takes a lamp-post and smacks Vargr hard with it, slamming him into the ground with back-breaking force. But this does not faze him. Vargr gets up, his rage manifesting as a blizzard, exemplifying the brutality of Skyrim's winter and the way it protects it's people. Vargr's spiritual werewolves cut down many enemies as well, unharmable due to their semi-physical forms. More Daedra are summoned by the Daedric King, who's face is contorted with rage and disdain. He blasts spells at Harriet's barrier to harm Nineve, who is at full health thanks to the resealing of her wounds caused by the power of the amulet.
Yunalesca pushes back the front lines of the forces of Oblivion, closing them in on the fountain on the southwestern side. Vargr pushes on the west side with his werewolves, and is now at the base of the fountain, snarling up at the Daedric King. Nineve throws her scythes in a spinning motion, and summons them back to her, having them take the longest route possible to do so, so as to kill as many daedra and aberrants as possible, which succeeds, effectively taking out a whole sixth of the enemy force. Putting them away, she takes out a singular scythe, twice as big, and aflame with green fire, now focusing on defending Vargr from any threats that might throw him off the path to the Daedric King. "We may have lost a great friend but we are not letting you claim a world that is not yours.”
But the Daedric King sees this, smiles viciously, and opens a portal above himself, and floats above and into it. He closes it below him, answered by a roar of rage from Vargr, which strengthens him, allowing him to slaughter and bring death to countless dremora, as Yunalesca cuts through aberrations, as Nineve casts powerful spells of fire and arcane with one hand and slicing with a large scythe with the other, and as Harriet protects and constantly heals her allies, their vision begins to darken, but they still feel physically fine. "Keep fighting! Don't allow lack of vision to become lack of power! The enemy will feel the cold death of Skyrim!!!" Vargr yells, slaughtering endless amounts alongside Nineve, Yunalesca, and Harriet. Then, all of their vision blackens, and seeing, hearing, feeling, smelling, and yes, tasting, becomes nonexistent.
Brutal fire light. Bright, but it still leaves the room feeling dark. Everything is lit well enough, but light can be hard see through metal bars. And even harder to see light when the guards of a dark world stand over you, leering. Seeing light through bars and guards are hard. But prison is harder.