Double Dragon Disventure (Skyrim double SI ft. Nihilo)

[vighzs]

'Well, that's a way to relieve our stress.' Erin's mind duly notes before her brainpower is drawn away to far more productive pursuits.

Click to shrink...

Congratulations! You are now officially if not Elder Scroll Bards, you are DnD Bards definetely .

 

[Omida]

Congratulations! You are now officially if not Elder Scroll Bards, you are DnD Bards definetely .

Click to shrink...

While it has College for it, unfortunately, I must rate Skyrim's bard program poorly.

Had to import them to bring the quality back up .

 

[Jkript]

This feels like a less absurd konosuba , or a chaotic yes dnd party

 

[Zerothewarhound]

Great work can't wait for more

 

[FeartheKnown]

I was wondering when dragon lewds would appear. "Instructions unclear, dragon layed" gave me hope for the title alone, but alas. But only a chapter later! Lewds! Well, the beginning of lewds. I await eagerly!

 

[Omida]

I was wondering when dragon lewds would appear. "Instructions unclear, dragon layed" gave me hope for the title alone, but alas. But only a chapter later! Lewds! Well, the beginning of lewds. I await eagerly!

Click to shrink...

The title didn't lie tho. A dragon was laid. She was even laid with!

 

[Omida]

Jean stifles a yawn as the party moves off the road and into the wilds. Nahagliiv, as it turns out, made up for lack of experience with a lot of enthusiasm. And energy. At some point, he dipped into their supply of stamina potions just to keep up with the lust-crazed dragon. He isn't sure how the others got any sleep, but there was probably magic involved. And Nahagliiv got up in the morning with a satisfied smile and a spring to her step, without even indicating she was so much as sore.

Dragon's worth of stamina condensed into a human sized body. He thinks to himself with a silly smile.

Erin, meanwhile, sports a lazy satisfied smile, the cheating elf woman having just used some Thu'um lifeforce leech trickery on the resident flora and fauna for a quick pick-me-up. She may've given a dusty fuck for the thoroughly dead stretch of forest she'd left behind if it weren't for how much of a murderous crackden Skyrim's biosphere was.

"Oi, dragonlayers, we are here." Barbas injects, causing Valdimar and Lydia to snort. "Heh, the cave didn't change at all."

Rimerock Burrow, turns out, is a cave carved out in the side of the mountain with no actual, natural path leading to the entrance, instead being connected by a wooden platform to which the only way from their side is a narrow plank.

"Someone really doesn't want visitors." Jean comments. "Though the plank kinda defeats the purpose. And I think any of us could make that jump without a problem."

Erin lets out a content little hum, pieces easily clicking into her head for a far less destructive Thu'um than has been her usual these past few days, "Fo Dun Diin" The Shout spreads over the drop, freezing the air and forming a much more elaborate, and broad, bridge of glittering ice with solid, waist high walls.

Barbas snorts as he inspects it. "Ha! I bet Sebastian will be sourpuss about it now that there is a much more permanent way in."

Shrugging, Jean crosses the bridge without much issue, as do the others. The inside of a cave is surprisingly small for Skyrim. Oh, it's still spacious enough to have two distinct chambers, but as far as they can tell, there is no secret passage somewhere deeper, nor any natural cracks and holes through which the air could flow freely. The first chamber, which is pretty much just the untouched part of the cavern on the lower level is patrolled by a lone flame atronach. The elemental daedra turns to face them, freezing as it takes in their numbers. Or, perhaps, it recognises Barbas.

It hisses in some unknown tongue, to which Barbas replies, causing the daedra to give a shallow bow as it retreats to the upper level. After a moment, it returns in the company of a balding Breton mage, who shoots Barbas an ugly look.

"Lord Barbas" he begins coldly "have you and your Master not tormented me enough? Why do you darken my home again?"

"He is here as our guide." Jean answers as he moves to the front. "As for our reason to come, Clavicus Vile sent us for his axe. Honestly, I am not sure why you keep it."

The man is silent for a moment, before sighing. "I studied it here, in isolation, to discern the secrets of it, and to prevent any… weaker minds, from falling to the temptation of owning a weapon given out by a Daedric Prince. I must admit, it's an intricate prank." Laughing mirthlessly, he continues. "It swings slower than any weapon in existence despite its obviously high quality. Its primary enchantment is of great power but unlike most iconic Daedric Artefacts, it actually has limited charge, and can only be recharged with black gems. There is one more enchantment, whose nature I have not yet been able to discern, only that it is a single use one."

Jean nods along. "Very interesting. Still, since Vile asked for it to be brought back, and he will keep sending people for it if we don't bring it back, are you going to hand it over?"

Sebastian Lort thinks for a moment, the atronach turning in place to his side. Eventually, he sighs. "I suppose. Enchanting is not my specialty, so I am unable to unravel the last spell anyway. Still, it feels wrong to just hand it over after I spend so long working on it so..."

"If your next words are a request for us to bring you something from anywhere further away than outside this cave" Jean interrupts him "I am going to take this personally. For the last couple of months, we had been on the road without a chance to rest. We have to go and deal with consequences of interrupted necromantic ritual in Solitude after we are done here. So, Nine help me, if you mean to send us to the other side of this godsforsaken province on a fetch quest, I will take that axe and test its shitty enchantments on your skull."

The mage steps back as the redhead rants, before blinking and sighing. "Y-you are right. I suppose it was just me not wanting to just… be alone with my grief. Just take the damn thing while I try to distract myself with something."

"Appreciated." Jean grunts before climbing to the upper level, where the atronach escorts him to the sarcophagus, which makes him want to slap his face, on top of which lies the axe in question. It's a large weapon, with snarling wolf maws as motifs on both of its blades. Lifting it up, he can feel the weight settle on his shoulders.

"Really subtle, Vile." Her mutters as he comes back to the rest of the group. Turning around, he gives the mage a bow. "I apologise for the outburst. It has been a really long, testing time. Try not to kill yourself, I guess."

As they exit the cave, Barbas turns around. "I suggest mixing frost salts with the lotion. Atronachs are rough with human bodies!" They can hear Sebastian sputter as the half of Daedric Prince cackles.

Once they cross the bridge, Erin turns back for a moment, breathing out, "Vaaz Dun Faad." The ice bridge starts breaking into small chunks which rain on the rocks below, turning into water before they hit. Within a moment, the plank bridge is once more the only way in and out.

"Was calling him an atronach fucker really necessary?" Lydia asks Barbas dryly.

Barbas gives her a Look. "There are only two types of mages who summon flames. Pyromaniacs and crazies willing to stick their cocks anywhere. And since his had feminine features, guess which group he belongs to."

"Eh, so long as all parties have a good time, to each their own." Erin dismisses with a shrug.

"Suddenly, I have an answer to the question of where all those unbound flame atronachs wandering the wilds come from." Lydia shakes her head. "Since I doubt most of the horny fuckers know what works as a precaution. And why Erin is the one who ended up with the Rose."

The elf woman in question couldn't help but chortle, "I resemble that remark." As it turned out, post-nut clarity was very conductive to creative bursts with both Thu'um and magic. It had been a very fun time.

---

Arriving in Solitude, the party finds the streets almost completely empty, save for the Legion patrols and the cordons separating Castle Dur from the rest of the city. They are directed to the fortress by a group of legionnaires as soon as they are identified, and put into the main chamber of the Legion's headquarters, where they meet Falk engaged in a discussion with a greying, older man in a decorative variant of the Legion armour, general Tulius.

"You are back!" Falk greets them. "And thanks to your warning, we managed to contain Potema's first wave when they spilled from the Temple of Divines. How did you know it would happen, by the way?" He asks, curious.

"Potema wasn't exactly subtle when we broke the ritual in half." Jean deadpans. "Granted, we didn't think she would gather some forces this fast. It has been barely two days, isn't it?"

"Sybille, Elisif's court wizard, thinks those are remnants of Potema's forces she didn't get to throw into battle when she was finally defeated." Falk replies. "At least thanks to her, the vampires spilling out of catacombs didn't catch our men off guard."

"So we have a long trawl underground filled with all manner of undead before… what?" Serana asks.

"Your guess is as good as mine, miss. Probably her primary ritual chamber, in which case it could have anything from a dragon's skeleton to a portal into Oblivion."

"Probably the latter. There was Soul Cairn nonsense when we cracked down on the ritual." Erin supplies.

If anything, both Falk and Tulius' grimaces deepen. "Figures. Potema was as powerful of a necromancer as they come, so no wonder. I hope I am not sending you on a one way trip to Oblivion by asking you to go down there."

"Don't sweat it." Jean grumbles. "Someone has to go there and survive anyway. Can you at least stash our travelling gear in a safe spot? Wouldn't want to get over encumbered down there."

"We will put your things in a safe room." Tulius agrees. "We already have one prepared, since a package from High Hrothgar addressed to you arrived at the Blue Palace. How Greybeards knew where you will be, I do not know."

Paarthurnax gives him a cryptic smile as she giggles. "Let's just say that while the order doesn't practice combat applications of Thu'um like the Imperial college, they are not opposed to applying their knowledge to peaceful pursuits."

Erin, meanwhile, had visibly lighted up at the mention of the package. The gliders were here! Oooh, she had so many Shouts relating to them to test out! Jean, while a bit more discreet, also found himself looking forward to that particular lesson. Enthusiasm slightly curbed by the knowledge they had to clear out an underground complex first.

"Well then, let's get to it." He says cheerfully, causing Tulius and Falk to look at him oddly.

---

"I HAVE YOU TO THANK FOR THIS." Potema's voice resounds through the catacombs. "HAD YOU NOT INTERRUPTED THE RITUAL, I WOULD BE BOUND TO THOSE THIRD RATE AMATEURS. SUCH A SERVICE FOR THE RIGHTFUL EMPRESS DESERVES A REWARD. IF YOU MANAGE TO ARRIVE BEFORE ME ALIVE, AND I KNOW YOU WILL, I WILL OFFER YOU A CHOICE."

"I am not sure she realises we are here to exorcise her." Lydia mutters as the voice of the dead empress finally falls silent.

"Oh, she absolutely does, lass." Valdimar answers grimly. "It takes a special kind of person to butcher and blackmail her family for the throne, and then keep fighting by feeding her people to daedra when the cause is obviously lost. She just thinks that if we behold her majesty or some such bullshit, we will immediately bend the knee."

"She's going to be unhappy when we don't, and when we manage to stick Dawnbreaker down her throat. Which I just know is going to result in some last ditch nonsense to spite us." Erin grumbles, "At least if we wind up stranded in Oblivion I can probably just ring up Sanguine's crew and hash out a deal for them to give us a way out."

"Depends on where we end up, dragonlayer." Barbas supplies. "Some realms in Oblivion have a tight lock on how to enter them. Not saying there are no workarounds, especially if you have a Prince predisposed to you favourably."

"Aye. Especially when you can also Shout reality into behaving. Great way to bridge gaps, I've found." Erin comments with a small chuckle, making a mental note to do some more magic and Thu'um combination. She's been letting her spell repertoire languish a bit beyond Ward and Ironflesh. Actually, that made a very fun Shout click in place.

The further discussion comes to a stop as the draugr spill from the corridor. Those, however, are not the same draugr which infest all the ancient tombs across Skyrim. They are clearly undead legionnaires, faded red and golds still recognisable on their heavy armour. They walk forward in a tight turtle formation, shields interlocking to present an impassable barrier, further bolstered by the glimmer of the Ward in front of their formation.

Oh ho! A good chance to test the Shout out, then! Erin breathes in, feeling her magicka all but vibrating in anticipation, "LAH DUN RU!" The Thu'um impacts the spells and tears right through it, the wisp of magicka dispersing in the air in strands of brilliant azure.

"Fucking Tongues, charge!" Comes the voice from within the formation.

Jean steps forward, grasping the suddenly much thicker ambient magicka, sunlight dancing on his finger while the burning, life giving warmth of the sun blooms in his chest. As the formation closes in, he releases his spell, Stendarr's Aura blooming around him like a miniature sun. "SHUL DUN YOL!"

The aura flares ever brighter, basking the chamber in a blinding light, flames directing the radiance of the spell forward, the bubble changing into a radiant shield in front of him instead. The undead turtle crashes into the barrier, burning and turning into dust on contact. Then, he raises his hand and pushes, sending the golden shield into the corridor, devouring the draugr hiding inside.

"That was close." He shakes his head, pale at the thought of what he almost did. "I am sorry Serana, almost forgot about you for a moment. Good thing I substituted Force for Grace."

The vampiress grimaces from behind a sheet of ice. "Apology accepted. Try to not make a habit of it though."

"We can start travelling during the night to refresh his memory if you would like." Lydia proposes with a smile, which causes Serana to snort.

"I am just lucky my vampirism is particularly potent, or even just the spell would hurt me beyond mere irritation at this distance. I suppose our oversized party was useful for something for once."

Shaking his head, Jean looks into the corridor, where his spell-Shout still burns at the opposing end. "Back to the drawing board then. I should be able to dismiss it without it blowing up when we get to that end."

Erin humms in agreement, "Worst comes to worst, can just use Finite and Temporary to snuff it. Toss in Grace to make sure it doesn't blow up in the process and it should be good."

Grimacing, Jean walks at the front of the group as they pass the corridor. Having an incredible arsenal to dust any undead was of little use when he had to hold it back on behalf of his friends. And most of their fights didn't really last long enough to justify busting out buffing shouts. Gesturing towards the modified Aura (Shield? Maybe he could figure out how to modify the original spell to assume that shape?), he grasps on the ethereal bond between the magicka holding it and himself and snuffs it out, the construct dispersing, vanishing like the setting sun. Instead, he grasps the energy and summons the Ward, before peaking through the corner.

There is a group of vampires on the balcony, all of them pointedly not looking at the corridor, instead whispering amongst themselves and occasionally shouting orders to the draugr below. Looking back to the group, he motions for Nahagliiv. "Want to try your hand at fighting vampires?" He whispers. "Until they die, they should bleed, and they should be fast enough to be challenging."

"Now you are speaking my language." The dragon girl purrs as she grips Dawnbreaker in her hand and peeks around the corner. "You stay here, especially soslun. If this thing blows up undead, she might not want to chance catching the blast."

"Your concern is appreciated." The vampires deadpans.

With a laugh, the whitehaired woman steps into the open, Dawnbreaker resting on her arm. The vampires turn around, crimson eyes blazing with hunger. They laugh seeing a lone enemy as they ready their weapons, spreading across the balcony. Then, they look at Nahagliiv's weapon and the laughter dies in their throats. They may have been sealed in the catacombs for Divines know how long, but they do recognise the weapon.

Nahagliiv laughs at their hesitation and springs forward, Dawbreaker coming in a wide, sweeping swing. The undead's eyes widen at her speed, but they react, jumping away from the path of the blade, running around her to surround her. Except for the one directly in front of her. Whether because of lack of room or arrogance, he raises his dual blades to block the swing, only for the force behind the strike to bring him to his knees, Dawnbreaker's blade digging deep into the shoulder. The gem at the guard flashes and the vampire's blood ignites as Meridia's hatred towards the undead burns the body, which explodes in a blue flame. The other vampires step back in panic as the flames wash over Nahagliiv's body without hurting her.

The dragon turns around, back to the railing. "Are you gonna come to me or are you that scared of a piece of dwemer metal?" She mocks them.

Their answer is immediate, their forms blurring as they fall upon her, a rain of swings. Nahagliiv stands her ground, legs wide, as she turns and twists Dawnbreaker, intercepting every strike. One of the vampires lunges, grabbing her wrist and pushing the golden sword away. Before his own blade can dig into her skin, she headbutts him, the force of the strike snapping his neck. Then, she steps forward, impaling another vampire and tearing the blade in a wide sweep before the jewel can light up. The bloodsucker's blood gushes, splattering her torso even as the swing bisects another one. The last one falls back, discarding his dagger, instead commanding the crimson light into his hand. The previously impaled vampire moans as it tries to stand. Nahagliiv just grabs him by the hair and, careful not to accidentally stab him with her sword, puts the other hand on his shoulder before tensing and ripping his head off. The blood paints her face red, and she faces the last vampire.

"Jean was right. You lot are much more fun to fight than humans. At least you can see your death." She comments pleasantly, as if talking about weather. The vampire backs off as he lets loose the spell, crimson light enveloping Nahagliiv. "Oh, it's cute. You think this constitutes leech? Jean, Erin, listen well! This one is freebie for the wonderful night you two gave me! HAAS LUN REL!"

The vampire hits the corner of the room as the crimson wave hits him. He screams, a deep, tormented scream as his life is torn from him, the wisps of crimson flowing into Nahagliiv who simply watches as his body turns into more and more red before she subsumes it all. When she turns to them, her eyes glow, a brilliant crimson, as if she was the vampire.

Erin flashes her a thumbs up.

Jean blinks as the words slot themselves into his mind, a wide grin splitting his face as he feels silly and sends the dragon a kiss. "Well, that opens a lot of possibilities."

Nahagliiv blushes slightly, before turning around and throwing Dawnbreaker into the draugr below, the blade detonating as soon as it impales one, which in turn sets off a chain reaction which clears the rest of the chamber.

Erin hums thoughtfully at the sight, "Say, I think if you learned Telekinesis or a Thu'um version of the spell you ought to be able to pull off some absurd stunts with that sword."

Nahagliiv hums as she thinks about it. "I have some idea on how to do that. Probably against undead only, I just like when the blood falls on this skin too much to put that much distance otherwise."

"You know" Valdimar grumbles to Serana as the group moves deeper into the catacombs "I am starting to feel a bit… redundant."

"Oh, grow up, you big baby." Lydia snorts as she pats him on the arm. "Think of it as an extended trip to see new, exciting locations, meet interesting people and not have to lift a finger to kill them. Whenever we are not in another ancient Nord ruin." She adds.

"Not being the naturally strongest person in the group is a novel idea." Serana admits, even as Lydia snorts when she says 'naturally'. "But I think I like it. Less pressure on me that way."

---

Traversing the catacombs, which at some point do, in fact, transition into the style of Nord ruin, is smooth sailing. Between Nahagliiv gleefully tearing apart any vampires, most of which are starving for blood after five centuries of being sealed underground, and Jean and Erin cleaning out the more and more sparse undead legionnaires, the only speed bump are the more intricate door mechanisms separating parts of Potema's impromptu realm. Mostly because the large, spinning wheels in which the doors are set in are slow moving. But, eventually, they enter the chamber in which a group of eight draugr in ebony armour await them, standing across the chamber, cold, blue eyes locked into them as the azure orb burns under the ceiling.

"YOU HAVE COME." Potema announces. "AS I KNEW YOU WOULD. NOW, THE CHOICE IS BEFORE YOU. SERVE ME AND BE REWARDED, OR STAND AGAINST ME AND FALL TO THE INNER COUNCIL."

"We have, quite frankly" Jean replies, not even bothering to look at the… spirit? Essence? Of the dead empress floating above them "waltzed right through your soldiers. Neither draugr nor vampires were much of an effort. Why would your 'Inner Council' be any different? Why would you be any different?"

The draugr bristle, their eyes flashing in outrage. Potema, meanwhile, laughs. "BECAUSE YOU WIELD THE VOICE? MY COUNCIL DOES AS WELL. AND I AM STILL POWERFUL MAGE, EVEN WITHOUT BODY. "

Erin is just about done with idiots screaming her ears off, something ugly twisting in her gut as her lungs fill with thunder, "FUS RII WULD VAAZ!"

The Inner Council reacts immediately as the ethereal storm rushes at them. All of them take breath, and Shout as one. "FUS DAH DUR!" The Thu'um clashes, the maelstrom of soul rending energy against combined push, specifically designed to bat away the cursed magics.

Jean thinks fast. He doesn't have quite the words necessary to boost Erin's Shout, but he has something to let it tip the scales. "FUS DUN REL!" His Shout is not an overwhelming wave of the force, nor an effect in and on itself. Instead, it crashes into Erin's and blends with it, causing it to intensify and grow, to crush the combined Voices of eight speakers and rush through the chamber, washing over the draugr and snuffing the light in their eyes as their souls are ripped to shreds and cast into whatever afterlife would take them.

Snorting, Jean looks at the essence of the Wolf Queen above them. "In one exchange, we blasted your best apart. Do you really think you stand a chance."

The undead empress is silent, for a moment, before she begins to laugh. "BAHAHAHA!!! NO, OF COURSE NOT. BUT" she pauses, as the chamber begins to shake "THIS IS MY INNER SANCTUM, AND I AM NECROMANCER. I BELIEVE MY TEACHERS WILL REPAY ME GREATLY FOR THE SOULS OF FOUR DRAGONS."

"Lady." Erin says with an icy calm that oozes mortal danger, "Go through with that and what I leave of your soul is going to end up as Sanguine's cumrag."

"If Meridia doesn't get her hands on her first." Barbas murmurs from behind them.

"EVEN PRINCES NEVER SUCCESSFULLY INVADED THE CAIRN." With that, the stones of the floor dissolve, revealing a very 'Oblivion' purple, swirling vortex underneath everyone's feet. "AND ONLY DEAD, VAMPIRES AND SOUL TRAPPED CAN WALK IT WITHOUT LIVING IN EXCRUCIATING AGONY."

With that, the portal howls as it latches onto the souls standing upon it, before light blooms in the chamber, swallowing everyone and blinding them.

---

The party, the ones that aren't outright dragons or a vampire princess (and half of a Daedric Prince) come into consciousness under dark, cloudy, purplish sky, in a bleak, lifeless landscape, full of oily black ruins. In the distance, there is a fortress with broken towers, the rubble floating around pillars of purple light as a barrier stands around its walls. Jean groans in pain, even a slight change of position sending pure agony through his body.

"Careful there, Jean. Potema was right about one thing" Serana's voice comes from… somewhere above him "Soul Cairn is hostile to the living."

Grimacing, he fights through the pain to look up, seeing Nahagliiv standing over them, Dawnbreaker shining like the sun, banishing the black mist away from them with a grim expression.

"H...how…" He chokes.

"We dovah" comes Paarthurnax' quiet voice "do not experience death like joor do. As such, the effects of the Cairn might as well not exist for me and Nahagliiv. Serana is a vampire, and as such, technically dead. Barbas is a daedra, and thus it might as well still be Nirn as far as he is concerned."

"Rii Viik Liiv" Comes the pained rasp from Erin. Instantly, the overwhelming pressure on her existence lessens, still there, but less of an impossible wall of agony and more a persistent, annoying ache. Jean groans as he bemoans not spending time to learn Rii from her.

"The others decided to let Serana soul trap them to be able to function. How about you?" Comes Barbas' voice.

"Gimme… a minute… to try… something." He gasps. It might not be as good as Erin's, since it wouldn't reach as deep, but damn if he was just going to let Potema fuck him without lube like that. He thinks, somehow, through the pain, about the order of the words. He would prefer not to crush his own mind by accident. "F… FUS VUR REL!" The moment Thu'um escapes his lips, he chokes as he can breathe again. The pain is still there, at the back of his mind, but his mind is able to focus, and to power through it. He stumbles on his feet, groaning, before shaking and looking around. "I doubt it will be that much worse than Soul Trap." He grunts.

Nahagliiv shoots him a look. "Make sure not to overdo it. You are literally functioning on pure stubbornness right now."

"Speaking of stubbornness and spite." Erin grits out, bracing herself for a very sore throat. And possibly a very horny dragon, "Rii Dun Rel Viik Liiv."

Nahagliiv shudders as her Name Word resounds, but more importantly, Erin suddenly feels the grasp of the Soul Cairn completely slip, if not even reverse. Not much, but now it is not her that is being sucked out of energy. Even so, she can feel the metallic taste of blood on her tongue. A quick Heal spell at least helps with the physical side of the damage there.

"Truly incredible mind." Paarthurnax chuckles. "To manage to reverse the effects of an Oblivion Realm like that without prior foreknowledge. Few would dare to experiment like that, but you seem to be favoured by luck, and your gambles pay dividends."

Right then and there, Erin makes a mental note to do something nice for Nocturnal. She was missing her super lockpick thingie, right? She could mug whoever had grabbed the damn thing and return it once she was no longer bouncing across Skyrim putting out fires.

"Now that we are no longer dying of being thrown into Necromancy Central" Jean sighs, "we should get around to figuring how to get out. And, more importantly, how to stuff Dawnbreaker up Potema's ass."

Snorting, Serana speaks up. "I can help, sort of, with getting out part. My mother has been fascinated by this place, and before she sealed me to prevent Father from getting his hands on the Scroll, she told me she would hide here from him. If we manage to find her, she might know how to get out."

"I am not sure about the wisdom of hiding from a Vampire Lord in the realm of necromancy." Valdimar comments dryly.

"While Father does worship daedra, he is devoted purely to Molag Bal, and doesn't particularly care about necromancy himself."

"And another piece of puzzle to the secrets of your fucked up family falls into place."

The vampiress doesn't reply, instead casting Clairvoyance and blinking. "Huh. We are lucky. I will have to give some nice sacrifices to Nocturnal. That fortress in the distance is apparently where my mother is hiding."

"And you are sure that's the place because?" Lydia prods her.

"Clairvoyance shows the same kind of 'brighter than sun' kind of glow it does when I look at the Elder Scroll I am carrying. Mother took the other one we had, so unless there is a third one somewhere here, there is no other answer."

"Why and how did your family have two in the first place?!" Valdimar asks, shuddering at the thought of Molag Bal's cult having access to such potent artifacts. Serana just shrugs.

"Right, so the plan is that we go pay a visit to Serana's mother and maybe stumble across our least favourite necromancer on the way." Jean summarizes.

"There's a dragon stuck here, right? One that probably noticed that display of Thu'um." Erin says with a grimace, already knowing what's going to happen sooner rather than later.

Before any of them can say anything more, the sky of the Soul Cairn churns as the lighting strikes the crystals topping many of the buildings. The dark mist covering the ground swirls and thickens, raising higher. In that darkness, the glowing red eyes of the shades and wraiths in service to Ideal Masters ignite, hundreds and then thousands, legions of necromancers who made pacts over millennia answering the call of their lords, souls sacrificed to the dead realm forced into service pushed into the prison of black steel and bone by their overlords. A sea of death separating the group from their destination and surrounding them, only the light of Dawnbreaker dispersing the black mist from swallowing the party.

And then, the undead advance in silence, shapes coming out of the darkness bearing steel, flinging spells and blotting the sky in arrow fire.

"YOL TOOR WULD!" Jean Shouts, the firestorms swallowing the horde and reducing the fragile bones to ashes. "DUN VUR SHAAN!" He loses another, swallowing back the blood as others stand firmer, grip weapons (if they use them, as mage heavy as they are) harder, react better. Valdimar and Serana bring their hands together, the lightning crackling heavily in their grips, before they unleashed the torrent, the white hot lance burning through the legions, the heat exploding the weapons. Lydia is a whirlwind, the silver moon blade finding openings in the ancient armour and igniting the undead with the slightest touch.

Erin, for her part, simply returns to her roots. Runes. Runes everywhere. The horde advances, heedless of explosions, even as they burn, as lightning destroys them with heat and shrapnel, as they are trapped in prisons of ice. They advance, endless, for within the realm of death, being killed means reforming soon anyway, and Ideal Masters care not for such little things as morale or an unbroken mind.

Nahagliiv grimaces, before giving the Dawnbreaker a look, remembering how, not so long ago, Thu'um supercharged another anti-undead weapon. Spell, whatever. "Let's see if you live up to the ballads." She mutters, the gem in the guard burning brighter for a breath, as if daring her to challenge it. Grinning, she takes stance, legs firmly planted in the dusty earth, Dawnbreaker raised above her head in two handed grip. "FUS YOL SHUL DUN!"

The glow of the Dawnbreaker ignites, the golden fire swallowing the blade and rising high into the sky, a beacon of the sun in the realm which never knew its brilliance. And then, Nahagliiv brings it down, and with it, Meridia's Light breaks the darkness, burning the mist away and burning the souls to cinders, until the wisps of the energy are the only thing left, too primordial to be truly called souls anymore, thus returning to the origin of all, free from ancient imprisonment.

The horde howls in pain and fear, and then, impossible happens. The black sky breaks, and the sun raises, golden and hot. And from the sun pours a host of gold, daedra that are living light, armoured in gilded armour and humanoids with eyes that burn gold. They crash into the dead legions, burning the souls away with each swing of their weapons.

"LONG HAVE YOU HIDDEN, WORMS, BUT THE HOUR OF YOUR RECKONING HAS ARRIVED!" Merida's voice resounds, equal parts triumphant and commanding.

The undead horde breaks and then reforms, as the horrors of the Soul Cairn turn away from the party and reform to face the host of Coloured Rooms. Fire clashes against ice as the Ideal Masters focus solely on throwing all that they gathered over millennia against Prince of Dawn.

"I… aaaahhh..." Lydia pants "suggest to go… while they are busy with each other. I doubt Meridia is going to care about Serana's well being now that she has what she wanted."

The others nod silently and break into a run, shooting glances at the battle, where the towering, scaled humanoids with gaping maws stride through the sea of shades, spitting acid and… tentacles everywhere, as other, more grotesque beings wink in and out of visibility, ripping through the necromancers.

"I see Haermerus wasted no time in trying to grab some new useless trivia for his oversized hoard." Barbas mutters.

Erin considers Mora for a moment. Then considers what the oversized squid would do if it got so much as a whiff of the knowledge from another world she and Jean have. It results in a very hastily chugged stamina potion and a redoubled sprint.

---

They are greeted at the gates of the fortress by a very sour looking vampiress who bears familial resemblance to Serana. Upon seeing her, the woman's expression softens, for a split second, before she notices Nahagliiv, and more importantly, Dawnbreaker.

"Before you say anything." Jean interjects, stopping before her and putting his hands on his knees as he tries to regain his breath after that hell of a sprint. "Meridia, as it turns out, can do tricky as well. And we are generally opposed to your husband's plan, so if you would grab the Elder Scroll and come with us to the nearest exit before the army of the Dawn swings by and kills you?"

Valerica remains silent for a moment, before she turns around. "Come with me then. While Ideal Masters have thrown all their slaves at Meridia, there is one guard who can weasel out of that order. Tricked, as I was, but that just means he is going to be waiting to attack."

"I'm going to guess that'd be Durnehviir." Erin mutters.

Valerica nods, surprised. "How do you know about him?"

"We've met." Nahagliiv answers, tone drier than the deserts of Elsweyr. The vampiress chooses not to implore further.

Durnehviir, does, in fact await them, with as much of a sour expression as his reptilian mouth can offer. His eyes widen as he sees Paarthurnax and Nahagliiv. "My strength" he notes idly "has always been lesser than that of other dovah. As such, I delved into Alok-Dilon to bridge the gap. And now, in the most important fight so far, I find myself stripped of it as no thralls are spared for me."

"Oh, grow up, you poor baby." Nahagliiv snorts. "Let's be real, your cute little minions never hindered a single dovah worth the name. But, this is actually going to be a bit more fair for you." She points at Jean and Erin. "Y'see, those two are Dovahkiin, and they are going to be your tinvaak partners for today. And no one else."

Durnehviir nods as he turns to observe the two of them. Unfolding his torn, ragged wings, he roars. "Very well!"

Well, at least her Breath was back, Erin muses as she picks out the Shout with which to start things off. It is going to get Naha a bit hot and bothered but eh. She wouldn't mind some fun once they get out of here. "Aight, I'll start us off. VIIK DUN LIIV!"

The Shout hits the dragon square in the chest, impossible to miss with how he made his profile bigger. It washes over him and…

Durnehviir laughs, a deep, rumbling sound from the depths of his chest. "A Thu'um of Death? I am Dur-Neh-Viir! My very name negates it! And after millennia of being stuck in this realm of death, this quality has only been empowered! MUL DUR VIIR!"

"Pruzah!" Anyone else would've been disheartened. Erin is the exact opposite, visibly glowing with excitement at finally getting something that can't simply be cheesed with Death. She probably shouldn't jump to a four-word so soon, but she can't help it, she's just so happy. "FUS DUN REL VIIK!"

The two Shouts clash, a pinpoint brand of death clashing against the very concept of being defeated, bolstered to even greater degree. The space itself groans as the two forces push against each other, until, eventually, they break apart, dispersing harmlessly halfway through.

"If you say you have become part of this shitty, cold place, then I've got a special gift just for you." Jean comments as he draws his breath. "SHUL FAAD LIIV GAAN!"

The sun blooms over Durnehviir, bright and hot, sapping away the strength from his body, the roar of its flames singing the lullaby promising rest and safety. He just needs to lie down and fall asleep. To let go of his worries.

Durnehviir shakes his head even as he falls down, folding his wings. He opens his maw to Speak, then blinks. His head nods, before he snaps awake with a roar. "Ghhh… KRAH HAALVUT QOTH!" The sun is snuffed out, replaced by the deathly cold seeping into the very bones. The deadly, arctic cold that sets upon the very soul. Unlike Jean's Shout, it is very much forceful, commanding them to fall, to close their eyes and embrace the depths of the grave.

"HAAS VIIK LIIV!" Counters Erin, her smile far too wide and full of teeth for anyone's comfort.

The two of them shake off the cold, still present, but no longer completely unbearable. Durnehviir roars, more lively as he shows off his teeth in an approximation of a smile.

Jean thinks for a second. Durnehviir is ancient, and with how long he had to spend with nothing to do but practicing his Thu'um, the most likely way to defeat him would be by… well, convincing him to lose. If only because he had the counter for their most reliable way of defeating him. "YOL HAAS SHAN DREM!"

There is no noticeable effect. Not for them, at least. Durnehviir, on the other hand, sees the light of their lives, burning brightly, future uncertain in the way only a sea of possibilities is uncertain, bright and hopeful. And then, he sees his own life, an ember that cannot be snuffed out only because it literally cannot die. A dead end, stuck trying to recapture glory of the past.

Durnehviir backs away as if physically struck, before snarling. "DINOK REL NAAN." Their struggle is meaningless, the dragon says. They will die, if not today, then at some point. They will end, and their accomplishments wither away. Such is the nature of the world.

Oh no, Erin isn't going to let that bullshit stand. That may've held true in the world she died in, but not here, "RII DUN VIIK ZAH!"

Durnehviir twists, while Paarthurnax and Nahagliiv wince as the word that belongs solely to mortals resounds through the courtyard. The dragon necromancer paces, from side to side, maw opening and closing.

"Rek los vahzah, hi mindok, koraav ko hi." Jean croaks, his throat dry and hurting from rapid Shouting.

Durnehviir stops, shooting him a look, before puffing as he freezes completely. For a moment, he is silent. Then, he sighs. "Zu'u los viik. This Tinvaak belongs to you, Quahnaarin."

Nahagliiv snorts. "Really, you overgrown dramatic wyrm? They hardly vanquished you."

Paarthurnax smiles, her hands trembling slightly as she claps. "Shush. Wonderfully done, my students. You have shown both facets of tinvaak, that of dovah and that of joor. In one, you came equal, in another, victorious."

Valerica and Serana stare wide-eyed and completely frozen in place, transfixed on the trio standing in the middle of the courtyard. Valdimar, while not as adept in dovahzul as either of them, is as pale as the two of them would be were they not vampires as he stares at the space where Thu'um clashed, clearly sensing something of the clash. Lydia… actually comes to her senses first, elbowing Serana.

"Come on, we are kinda on the clock. I doubt a bunch of ascended necromancers can hold off a focused assault of the Prince."

The mention of Meridia snaps the pair of vampires back to their senses. Valerica shakes her head. "Right, come, I have the Scroll in my lab, as safe of a place as anywhere else in this castle before the barrier fell. Just… " she gives a look to Durnehviir and the Dragonborns "we should probably go around. I don't want to risk interacting with residual energy of that."

The group nods along and follows her, while Paarthurnax and Nahagliiv come to Jean and Erin's side.

"You should come with us, Durnehviir" Paarthurnax speaks quietly "I doubt you would want to fall to Meridia's host and have your corpse stranded here."

The draconic necromancer stares at her, as if trying to recognise her, before realisation dawns. "Paarthurnax? How… " He shakes his head, before sighing. "I cannot. While I boasted of it, the truth is, after millennia, and my unwise deal to be the soslun's jailor, I have become part of the Cairn. She felled me a couple of times, only for my body to reform. I truly became Neh-Viir, the Never Dying. All at the cost of never to see the skies of Nirn, forever cut off from Bormahu's creation." His words are bitter and grim. "My essence became part of this place. I could, probably, fly under Nirn, were a Gein-Wo-Tinvaak, a Speaker, to Shout my name back there, but otherwise I am trapped."

Jean winces at the sheer sorrow in the dragon's voice as he lays out just how much a decision made gods know how long fucked him over. Then, he glances at Nahagliiv, and an idea comes to his mind. "Paarthurnax?" The woman looks at him questioningly. "Would your Thu'um provide enough of a loophole for Durnehviir to be able to leave? Like… sort of like Nahagliiv managed to slip from her grave?"

Paarthurnax hums as she thinks about it, putting a finger against her lips. Durnehviir looks confused, as much as his expression can allow, at least. "I do not know completely. Oblivion is not my area of expertise, unfortunately."

"We do have an expert on hand." Nahagliiv notes dryly, pointing at Durnehviir.

"Quahnaarin mentioned a Shout that let Nahagliiv escape the grave. I assume it is the reason why you, dii zeymah, have the appearance of the joor?"

Paarthurnax nods with a proud smile. "Geh. You have heard of Dragonrend, I believe?" Durnehviir nods. "In the millennia since, I devoted Paar, my Ambition, towards uncovering its secrets." Chuckling she continues. "I was unsuccessful. However, I learned how to focus our essence, this spiritual component that makes us dov, and how to prod it into changing our form. How to walk amongst the joor by taking on their appearance and characteristics of their bodies. From your words, you are bound by your body, not soul, so discarding this old body should let you walk away."

Durnehviir listens in stunned silence before he starts muttering. "Geh. No matter what tricks they pulled, even Ideal Masters could not devise a way to Rii-Horvutah, to Trap the soul of a dovah, not even with one available to them. But to make rii take the shape of a shell made by Thu'um… You say Nahagliiv truly escaped qoth that way?" Receiving a nod, he ponders. "Then, there is a chance it will work. Very well, we shall try. Before that." He raises his head, looking at Jean and Erin. "In case it does not, Quahnaarin, I leave you with my Name. Listen, so that you may call me even from beyond the boundaries of realms. Dur-Neh-Viir."

Jean blinks, before engaging in a very Erin thing and cackles. "Oh man, beyond just your name those words are going to be a treat to work with! I really hope this works so you can see the results personally."

The elf woman, meanwhile, is practically vibrating in place, eyes alight with unholy glee at the crimes against existence she'll be able to cook up with those words.

Paarthurnax just gives the two a warm look before focusing on Durnehviir switching to Dovahzul. "Then, let us begin. You know Rii, probably the best after me and Alduin, but I shall speak it to you again, to add to your understanding. RII. The essence that inhabits the mortal body. A thing not meant to stay eternal. MEYZ, the change, a new page opening in a book, a season of life coming after a long winter. JOOR, the goal you strive towards. The body that your essence desires and your change creates. The state that permits you to exist like Dovahkiin, soul of a dragon inhabiting the body of a mortal. Take them into you and Speak, craft the body that you wish for and be free."

Durnehviir nods along, eyes wide as the understanding that Paarthurnax achieved flows into him. He tastes the words on his tongue before clearing his throat and Speaking. "RII MEYZ JOOR! Jul kro, sot se om, sahqo-bii se miin, slen se qoth-sot, sahqo-bii yuvon-golz haalvut fin slen."

Durnehviir's body glows with his essence, the brilliant light of the dragon's soul enveloping it as the wind picks up, fluttering the clothes and kicking up the dust into the air. Slowly, it shrinks and reshapes, the wings turning into hands, legs straightening, spikes retracting and head shifting. As the light dies down, the Dragonborn and the dragon women can discern Durnehviir's new form.

The long, fluttering white hair and purple eyes, skin so pale as to be almost literally white. Jewellery of bone holding up amethysts for the choker and bracelets. And a dark lilac robe hugging the voluptuous figure. Durnehviir tilts her head as she pokes and caresses her new body, testing its sensations (and giving everyone a bit of a show, not that she seems to care).

"Now" she speaks quietly "to see if it works in allowing me to escape this place."

"Okay" comes Lydia's voice from the other side of the dragon woman "is there something in the air Thu'um uses or did the two of you actually sell your souls to Sanguine when I was piss drunk? Because there is no way he… she is natural at giving an eyeful."

Paarthurnax laughs and shakes her head. "Durnehviir was always a curious one, about everything. Just let her be and she should calm down once her curiosity has been sated."

"Might as well make sure she knows everything she needs to test or she will be grumpy later on~." Nahagliiv giggles as she grabs Durnehviir by the wrist and pulls her close. "Now, sibling dear, let me tell you about this absolutely delightful thing the joor call 'sex." Durnehviir, for her part, gives the other dragon her complete attention, fixing her with an unblinking stare as she listens.

"We are going to be sleeping under a bubble of silence again." Lydia summarises dryly. "Possibly multiple nights."

"I got a few ideas for a Shout to that effect, if that helps." Erin supplies, even if her perverse grin gives her away. Sanguine knew what he was doing when he handed off the Rose to the elf woman.

Lydia just gives an 'I-am-too-tired-of-the-shit-to-argue' look. "Let's hope she waits until we are back at something resembling a house." She eventually sighs. "Anyway, how are we going to get out of the Cairn, exactly?"

Valerica grimaces. "There should be a portal linked to my private laboratory to the north of here. The big problem is, it's also right in the centre of Harkon's power, so unless one of you dragons can fly all of us off, we will need to fight our way out."

Paarthurnax hums. "Neither Nahagliiv nor Durnehviir can turn back, on account of their circumstances. Still, I believe it is doable with just me. It might be uncomfortable for some of you but we should be able to leave as quietly as a dragon can."

Nahagliiv snorts. "I have mulled over the Words, and I should be able to get my wings back, same with Durnehviir. A bit of Thu'um and we might hold someone, so that should decrease the load for you."

Erin very carefully pushes down the rather large part of her that perks up like a slavering dog at the prospect of monster girls. Time and place, Erin. Time and place.

---

Outside, on the lifeless plains of Soul Cairn, the battle between servants of Ideal Masters and the legions of Daedric Princes had only grown in intensity while the party was busy with Durnehviir. The Princes have their feuds and rivalries, as is inevitable between beings who are patrons of such a wide array of concepts. And while for many Ideal Masters are not worth consideration, or a grudge, their wants and rivalries and need to keep ahead of their rivals means that once Meridia found purchase and Haermerus Mora's abominations penetrated the lines of necromancers, others would follow, if only to maintain balance of power. The hosts of Mehrunes Dagon and Molag Bal join to pillage and conquer, while pestilent hordes of Peryite sweep the plane, carrying out the Taskmaster's orders.

And in the shadows, which grow even longer and darker now that Meridia's sun illuminates the realm, Mephala's servants scurry along. Not to conquer or steal from Ideal Masters, but rather to… give a lesson, in what denying the Prince of Secrets means. The daedric spiders which blend with the environment perfectly and the wasps the size of birds of prey make their way, unseen and unnoticed by the striding titans and clashing legions, converging on the only living beings which reside within Cairn, drawn like moths to flame. Assassins and nightmares in one.

And then, spectral arrows pierce the wasps, which fall with the wail and the spiders turn around as shade dances between them, assassin's blade flashing to strike once before moving to another. Unseen and unknown to those he saves. Mephala's servants fall, unused to combat as they are.

"Don't know what's your business" mutters Jiub as he watches the living flee towards the only still functional portal to Nirn "but Azura needs you."

Then, he leaves, to make sure nothing else comes their way. And maybe after this madness is finally over, he will be granted entrance to Moonshadow instead of this dreary hellhole.

---

The glowing, swirling vortex that is the portal Valerika used in her day to get into the Cairn is still present where she left it, high in the sky, with stone steps hanging precariously in the air.

"Give me a moment to open it on the other end." The woman speaks as she climbs, purple light in her hands as she draws the patterns in the air directly below.

Jean glances back down as he balances precariously on the floating staircase. The battle is still ongoing, from what he can see, mostly because at some point other Princes decided to hit the glowing army of Meridia. Which, no doubt, is going to piss that particular Prince off and cause at least one Ideal Master to run to safety, because that's the way the narrative tends to work.

His vision blurs for a moment and he shakes his head and blinks. He is tired, he realises. Like he had done nothing but excessive physical labour for a couple days straight. There is a howl of the wind and the portal above him flashes bright for a moment.

"Done, let's go." Valerica commands, and he shuffles carefully up.

The purple light blinds him for a moment as he feels like he is being compressed and spread out at the same time, before the light dies down and he falls to the stone floor in a dusty, if pristine, room full of alchemical ingredients and enchanting supplies. He tries to rise, only for his body to give up as his Shout finally ends and the weight of his stay in Cairn crashes into him like a dragon on crack.

"Poor baby." Nahagliiv mutters in amusement as she scoops Jean into her arms. Then, she turns to Serana and Valerica. "So, you want us to blow this place up with a couple of well placed Shouts?"

Both of the vampiresses shake their heads before Valerica speaks up. "It's our house, no matter what, and after Harkon is dealt with, I would prefer to have somewhere to return. Besides" she sighs "he is protected by the prophecy of the Tyranny of the Sun, recorded in Elder Scrolls. Until the conditions are met, I am not even sure he can be killed."

Valdemar and Lydia stare at her, before the battlemage chokes out. "A vampire that is a subject of an Elder Scroll prophecy?"

"Not just one Scroll." Valerika corrects him. "But three. We named them Blood, Sun and Dragon for the parts of the prophecy each held. I hid Sun with Serana while taking Blood with me into the Soul Cairn. Unfortunately, I do not know the location of the last one."

"It will come with tiid, passage of time." Paarthurnax assures her. "We live in the times of legend already, so it is certain. Until then, I assume, you will need to remain on the move now that your vonun-hofkiin, hideout, has been destroyed?"

Valerica grimaces as she nods. "Yes. Which is where I ask about your permission to travel with your group. It may be risky to put both Scrolls together, but that way, I can keep my eye on Serana easier."

Lydia and Valdimar look at each other, then at Erin, then at the dragons, before finally looking back at the vampires. "If Erin is fine with it, there is no objection from us." Lydia answers. "Which almost definitely means yes, you can."

"Aye." The elf woman confirms offhandedly from where she's slumping on a couple of stair steps. Her soul may not have been strained like Jean's but she's getting treated to one hell of an adrenaline crash after that fucking rollercoaster of an adventure. Divines, what she wouldn't give for a week- hell, just a weekend of peace and quiet.

If she returns to Whiterun to find there's an army advancing on it she isn't going to be responsible for her actions.

Nahagliiv nods. "Great, we can figure out where the exit is then. We need a large enough place for Paarthurnax to shift back."

"My garden should be just about large enough." Valerica notes. "Granted, aside from the balcony, we would have to go through the entire sealed off wing, and I am sure Harkon reprogrammed the undead and gargoyles to attack me."

Paarthurnax chuckles. "There is no need for that. I can get us to the ground easily."

Opening the door to the balcony, she steps out and looks down, upon the dead garden basked in the moonlight. "Drem Ven Mah." She speaks, and a gentle current of the air springs into life. Without looking back, she jumps over the railing and falls, in a gentle, slow descent, until her feet touch the ground. "Similar to gliding." She muses before turning around. "Come, the Thu'um will take care of you!"

The party looks at the drop uncertain, before Lydia vaults over the railing and repeats the gentle descent, afterwards which, the others repeat the process, until only Nahagliiv, with unconscious Jean still in her arms, remains on the balcony.

"You go ahead, I will do my thing here. Durnehviir!" The other dragon looks up at her, pausing her self inspection. "You Listen so you can take Erin with you!"

"Viing Daal Nol Rii." She speaks, and a pair of large wings sprout from her back while a swings from under her skirt. "Ah, how I have missed them~." She gives the wings a few testing flaps, cheering up as she takes off of the balcony.

Erin's nostrils flare and eyes gleam as her weakness to monstergirls flares again. At least she's wrung out enough to have a decently easy time pushing it back down. Time. And. Place.

Then, Duurnehviir repeats the words, her own, tattered wings springing from her back and she scoops Erin into a carry without concern, giving her a smile and an absent-minded look.

...Okay, fuck it, she was going to give Durny a practical demonstration of how sex worked once they were back on the ground and relatively safe.

Finding a decent spot in the middle of the garden, and eyeing the solar clock, Paarturnax speaks her own words. "Dii rii, daal us daar se dovah." In a blink of an eye, she lies coiled around the garden. "Zul-Niir." She Shouts, although it comes as barely audible whisper. "Now, get up and we can be off."

The party nods and climbs up on her back, with Lydia scooping Barbas into her arms and hugging him to her chest. "I suppose this is how the dragons can be stealthy." She mutters. ""They just shout 'You can't hear me, you can't see me!' at reality until it obeys."

"Fitting, isn't it?" Barbas comments as Paarthurnax takes off, Castle Volkihar rapidly shrinking as the trio of dragons fly higher and higher, until they vanish into the clouds.

 

[CreepyUncleLuke]

I really enjoyed this chapter, but next time can you give Jean some screentime? It seems like every three thuum Erin creates he gets one new one, never mind that he has not proper magic so he doesn't get described using anything other than thuum in combat often.

 

[Petrox]

I guess they need to thanks Potema for the express ticket and not having to do all the things in the castle. I can't wait for their vengeance and what better way than humiliating her with the greater necromancer Duurnehviir to make her feel like a noob in necromancy.
Also Duurn could take the dragon skeleton in labirinthia as a pet.

Also Serana's quest just became a lot more interesting. The snow elf could be surprised and confuse as he sees the last female snow elf and maybe ask to repopulate the species (Partysnacks)

The double dragon fight Vs the 2 dragonborns

Commentary by the dragons of visiting the shrine of another aspect of their father

 

[FeartheKnown]

Well, I have to say, Erin has the right idea. Monstergirls FTW!