Shadow of the Self (Elder Scrolls/Multicross SI)

[LucaNox220]

A teen wakes up in the world of the Elder Scrolls, except it was just his luck that he couldn't be the Dragonborn, whose story he had memorized. Or the Nerevarine whose story he knew fairly well, he couldn't even be the protagonist of any of the major games.
Instead he was the hero of an Obscure game he knew basically nothing about. Now he has to fight off the end of the world all while trying to not fall apart… literally.
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hey, so quick note before we get started this story is being run as a quest on fiction.live (https://fiction.live/stories/Shadow-of-the-Prisoner/iCrximutbthJ2sCQF/home) so if sometimes some rules seem odd, or it seems like something weird happened just because he either rolles really really well or really really shit or one of the enemies did


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If I had to describe my consciousness moments before waking up. It was struggle. I don't know what I was struggling against or what I was struggling for, but I just knew I was struggling, clawing at everything around me, pushing back, trying to pull my way out of this seemingly endless ocean of darkness. It was a strange dream and a disturbing one, one that I couldn't think of why it was occurring. It wasn't like anything my life going on right now was particularly intense or worrisome.

All that left was unconscious Subconscious reaction, but I had no idea why they were happening in the first place. I felt the flood wash over me and a thousand and one things appeared in my mind. Contents of. Sure. Some I was homeless on the streets, starving, trying to scrape by. Others I was a wealthy, or at least upper middle class Man with a beautiful wife and two children. Others. I was a more content, regular college student going through life, undecided on where he wanted to go.

Then suddenly it was no longer focused on me but on my family I saw a different paths where my parents stayed together and were happy, or they stayed together and just made each other more miserable and bitter as they told themselves they were staying together for us. For me and my siblings, but all they did was make us more miserable.

It burned at me, these ideas and dreams. I mean, I know it had been almost a few years since my parents got divorced and high school was a complex time where you really began to think about your future. But was I really spending so much time considering it?

I pushed those thoughts aside and pushed against the flood, pushing away from me. Don't know if this was a dream or whatever, It's symbolic or representative, but I could feel myself being dragged down deeper and something told me that wasn't a good thing by any means, symbolically speaking. Maybe it was just a dream, but the idea of drowning in the depths of an unfathomable darkness still shook me and I'm perfectly willing to claw my way out.

But I could feel something wrapping around me, tendrils of something swirling around me, visions pulsing through me, trying to shove me back down. Everything seemed to be trying to pull me away from the lights.

I fought against it, but I was trapped, a Prisoner in this sea of darkness. I pushed against my bindings that would try to hold me down, but it just kept dragging me downwards. But I clawed and fought and scraped against it, pulling myself upwards and outwards towards the surface.

Yet no matter how far up I swam, it just seemed to keep getting further and further away. Yet I could see some distant lights. Dozens of them dancing in the sky. Thousands. millions and it was ever growing. It was like I was looking at the night sky, like I was in space between the stars themselves, rather than drowning in an ocean of shadow.

But then one of them, like Blazing star seemed to reach out to the shadows, some of the shadows shied back. Some of them sought to attack it, but I just grasped it desperately allowing it to pull me forward, using it like an anchor or rope to pull me to safety.

 

[LucaNox220]

As I awakened I felt like I was dragging myself out of the ocean. I rasped for air and came into consciousness, immediately I heard screams and shouts from those around me. But that didn't make any sense did something happen? I should be in my room alone. Why the hell were there screams and shouts around me.

"By the Divines, He's alive." I heard a voice that was incredibly confused. I didn't recognize that voice and I didn't recognize the language, and somehow I could still understand it? As soon as that thought occurred to me, I received a flood of images. No, not images, memories, pieces and fragments of it.

But unlike before where I had seen possibilities of my own life, I don't know what the hell was going on, but it clearly was not a normal dream. At best this was some weird Inception style dream. At worst I had ended up in another world. But regardless, these memories, rather than being potential futures or past and reminiscing on my life as a whole, this was someone else.

I saw glimpses of them studying magic, practicing with objects, and looking at a key of some kind. It like had a weird dragon around the hilt. And there was a purple gem on the top. Then there was a man in robes killing him as he tried to steal the key from him.

I don't know, the exact specifics were vague. There were glimpses, bits and pieces, moments of extreme emotion rather than any concrete evidence or story. But I think the last thing that happened was him drawing me into the world or something like that.

It's hard to describe how I knew it, but there are glimpses of his intention. He had been trying to summon a version of himself to heal himself, basically overlaying reality with the potential of him being alive, and instead he got me.

I don't know what that means. Am I like an alternate Universe version of him. Sort of like how you can get a Superman who has entirely different DNA, family and is still Superman.
Using something called shadow magic. Which used could be's, ideas and possibility and the unformed nature of worlds to basically impose your will on reality. It was hard to describe or even understand even he only had a beginners understanding of it. But honestly it described where I had been pretty well.

And also explained what I saw glimpses of could be's and might have been. Potential futures and potential past and potential presents. Sense of how my own life couldn't hold it differently and how it could unfold in the future.

Assuming all this was real and not a dream, which judging by the pounding headache I currently had and the aching of my body, I was going to assume this was all real. Would be really useful if I could learn to tap into that in the future. Assuming I made it back home.

If I could look into the future and say, OK, I should absolutely take this career path and this job because I'd be happy. Even ignoring all other magic and stuff, that would be incredibly useful.

"Thank Mother Mara. You are all right. I thought Oblivion was going to take you." the same man commented as he turned me over and I flinched at the light even as I tried to consider what he was saying. Mara. Shadow magic. Divines. Oblivion.

As those thoughts passed through my head, I got glimpses of the boy himself learning in school and Temple, about the world out of its nature and its secrets, I couldn't even tell what race he was I could barely even tell he was a boy, But one key thing stood out to me. The names of the gods and their devils, or rather. The names of the Aedra and the Daedra.

Akatosh, king of the gods. Father of time and father of Dragons.

Talos, God of heroes and ascended Avatar Shor.

And seven other divine gods who reigned over creation. With a slight note, noting that they were not the only gods in existence, just the nine most prevalent and popular, and that there were many other lesser gods who governed over and watched over the world.

Then there were the Daedra, the gods who did not participate in the creation of the world and thus maintained their full power and the 16 Daedric Princes who ruled over their own realm of Oblivion and reigned over creations of their realm, each seeking to conquer the world, or at least influence its path with their own whims and desires. Held back by the dragon fires of Akatosh, which made it harder for them to interfere directly with the world.

I was in The Elder Scrolls.... I was completely fucked.

 

[LucaNox220]

OK, I had the memories of magic from the person who summoned me. Could I wield magic? Was that a possibility? Or was I just a normal human stuck in this world? Could I even survive in this world if I was a normal human? I mean, did they have things like nutrients and iron? Or is everything just a particular type of magical matter they subsisted on?

It was entirely possible that I might be unable to survive in this universe. Then again, the fact that I wasn't dead yet implied that I had a chance to survive and maybe get back. And maybe there was some kind of magic that would let me sustain myself like healing magic might be able to substitute the nutrients I might not be able to get naturally from the food of this world.

Of course, that also implied that I would be able to wield magic in the first place, or Magicka as they called it here. I knew for a fact that it didn't entirely come from Aetherius. Basically, they recharged themselves faster by drawing it from the air around them, but technically speaking, it all came from the little star of Aetherius that existed within each of them.

The point was that if I was capable of real magic. I should be able to do so without needing to Draw on Aetherius. Or maybe I could only use magic by drawing from Aetherius and the world around me since I had no internal source of magic. Thus, I'd be forced to use only the magic of the world around me.

Meaning that my only chance of getting home relied entirely on luck.

However, whoever was here before me wasn't just some random guy; he was a reasonably skilled mage. Nothing truly outstanding, but I could tell from his memories that he had been frequently complimented about his accomplishments. Although who he actually was and didn't know, There were no memories of his name, of even his race or anything like that. It was like all of that had been stripped away. Unformed and undefined.

I didn't even know if he was from the town that these people came from, which some of his memories were in, or if he was a traveler just stopping by passing through. I don't know what he was. Or why he was there in the first place.

I also had his memories of wielding magic. Whoever the person who summoned me with, I think I might have gotten some of his memories or bleedover of some kind. I don't know what happened to him. Did he take my place in the shadows? Did he die as soon as he summoned me, and they just saw some other person to enslave, butcher, or whatever the hell their plan was with me? Which, given that I was an Elder Scrolls, could be literally any number of horrors.

If I wanted to survive, I would need to try to use magic. It might fail completely or kill me, but in this world, the powerless died. If I could use magic, if I could even glimpse the slightest bit of magic, I had a chance of survival. I could maybe bargain with Hermaus Mora. Offering him knowledge, he didn't have an exchange for knowledge and power.

I can delve into the depths of the various dungeons that existed throughout the world, finding the ancient things that only the heroes of the previous Elder Scrolls games could have found: The staff of Magnus. The Eye of Magnus. The Aethereal artifacts of the Dwemer.

There were plenty of things I could discover that had remained hidden for centuries until one of the game's heroes discovered it. Depending on where I was in the timeline, I had a chance.

My greatest tool was knowledge, and I needed to take advantage of it.
The first thing I tested was if I could draw on mana or magicka, which I quickly discovered the answer was yes. Closing my eyes, I pushed aside my head and reached out. I could feel the magical energy in the air around me.

It pulsed and flowed, and it was undeniable and incredibly obvious; for a brief moment, I could not help but wonder how the hell other people didn't know how just instinctively to draw on mana or sense it; they were bathed in it all day, every day.

Of course, as soon as I thought that, I realized that was the answer. It is like a fish and water to them; it was always there. To me, someone who, at minimum, came from a world where magic was hidden and potentially didn't exist at all, it was like I had just been thrown into the ocean after spending my whole life in the desert.

The magicka responded to my call and easily flowed from the air into me, and I felt it fill me with power. As it did so, I suddenly became aware of two things. The first was the small reservoir of power within me that filled up both from the slow and weak pulse within me and the much more abundant power in the air.

The second thing I noticed was the Shadows within me that danced with the Magical energy that clashed against each other—swirling around each other in a tenuous harmony.

Shadow magic… key of shadow magic… something about that seemed so familiar to me. Well, actually, I did remember Elder Scrolls shadow magic, but only because of how stereotypically weird it was for Elder Scrolls. It was about the interaction and conflict between existence and nonexistence, that which could be but is not.

But as I meditated on the shadows and what they were, suddenly, I found myself falling back into the sea of Maybe. I flailed around wildly for a moment, trying to find my way back to the light, back into existence, before I faded once more into nothingness.

Shadow Magic is an obscure but powerful form of magic believed by some to be related to the schools of Illusion and Mysticism. It was originally harnessed by Azra Nightwielder, who was the first to discover that shadow was not simply an absence of light, but a reflection of possible worlds created by forces in conflict. Shadows can be produced by mundane forces such as light hitting a rock, or by more powerful forces such as nations at war. Shadows are the records of the clash, past, present and future of these forces. Shadow Magic involves the manipulation of shadows to affect the forces creating it.

As I read the article, I suddenly paused. Wait a minute, I was not in my room just a moment ago. I had been in some weird location in the Elder Scrolls- weird dream. The Elder Scrolls wasn't real; it was a video game whose lore was written by a guy who found some really good drugs before he started writing- pain surged through me, interrupting my thoughts.

I felt like I was being pulled apart at the seams. I reached into the shadows, feeling agony as I began to fall apart, but I forced myself to hang on. I reached back for the light from before, grabbed it, and pulled myself back toward existence.

Once more, I gasped as I pulled myself out of the shadows. That was… damn it, I had been learning something, but I felt myself being dragged into the shadows, being torn apart, my existence failing. It was clear that I could not spend much time in there before everything began coming apart at the seams.

Whatever let me exist in this world was tied to that light I felt within that produced magicka and the shadows that danced around that magicka. I guess tipping the scales too much resulted in becoming undone, which was just great.

Not only was I in a death world, I was in a death world while effectively crippled by this world's standards.

Okay, think, you can still make deals. I reminded myself the knowledge was literally unobtainable to Hermaus mora expect from me. I bet I could get a lot from him for that knowledge.

I would have to be careful and carefully word my deal, but it was still possible. A single misstep could be fatal, but then again, just existing at this point, for me, could be fatal. I could feel the way the shadows wrapped around my Magicka and used it as an anchor for me.

I also had a guess where that magicka was coming from after all summons, be they daedra or shadows, needed an anchor to remain in Nirn. I was pretty sure the soul, or at least some part of the soul of the person who summoned me, was acting as an anchor alongside the Magicka I could gather, which meant I was effectively limited to the highly obscure and vague shadow magic rather than the much more reliable and well know common magic of Tamriel.

 

[LucaNox220]

With that decided, I finally took a look around where I was and what I saw was not promising. A bunch of people whose clothes were in various states of disrepair and ruin were glancing around with nervous eyes, looking towards the men outside the wagon with terror in their eyes.

The men were not well-armed soldiers or anything like that, but instead, a bunch of men in random bits of leather armor with the occasional bit of metal. Now, I wasn't a historian or any expert in Tamriel equipment, but I was pretty sure these men were bandits.

Which made it odd they were kidnapping us. If they were just typical bandits, you'd think at most, or at worst, I should say, they would have just killed us all and moved on their way, maybe taking a few of us as hostages to get away. But there were a lot of people between the three wagons.

Looking behind me, I could see another wagon filled with about the same amount of people and just as cramped. There were about fifteen of us in each wagon, I want to say, across three wagons. That was a lot of people to act as hostages, and you'd have to feed us, which meant there was another reason they were kidnapping us.

Currently, I was guessing either Daedric cult or Mad Necromancer, possibly both. In fact, both were very likely when you thought about it. Some necromancer who's running a gang of bandits and providing them with benefits and resources in exchange for them acting as muscle for him and gathering up bodies for him to reanimate and sacrifice to his Daedric lord, whoever that might be.
Of course, I didn't have much time to notice all this before I found myself being pulled out of the wagon and shoved into the Old Fortress. It wasn't anything truly notable, looking like a cliche crumbling ruin. The outside wasn't as bad as it could be, but at the same time, it was clear why it had been abandoned. We Arrived to wherever they were taking us.

This meant I had a limited amount of time to get out of here before we all died. My best hope was that this was some cult to Hermaeus Mora, and I hoped I could strike a bargain with him. And convince him I was the better option to support than the bandits. But I wasn't going to risk my life on that idea.

But it looks like I might not have a better chance to get out of here, except to find a way to sneak out of here before they made the sacrifice rather than hoping the sacrifice would go in my favor.
It is more likely to be Molag Bal or Merunes Dagon or any of the other Daedric princes, as I doubt a bunch of bandits paid much respect to the Lord of Knowledge.

I looked towards the man who had said I was awake in the first place. He was an older gentleman. Nothing truly stood out about him. He looked like a generic extra from a fantasy show with farmers where they treated them with more dignity and respect than Game of Thrones might.

Basically, rather than being shit covered and smelling like crap, he was instead relatively normal looking with just tattered clothes and callous hands and just sun-tanned skin, implying a life of hard work but nothing truly abnormal or particularly disgusting.
"What exactly is going on here?" I asked him, and He looked around cautiously before answering.

"We have been taken by the Skeever bandits," he said as he glanced around nervously. Still, for a moment, the name confused me until I followed his gaze, and I realized that I could see what he was talking about to an extent. Giant Rats around us seemingly tamed and looking at each of us with chattering teeth and beady eyes. They were likely ready to attack us at any moment.

"We heard rumors about them attacking and sacking towns and villages, but we didn't think they'd be able to attack us. We're not as small as most of the other villages around here. We have easily ten times the population of any nearby village and guards to match. The fact that they could take Azra's Cross means that the mage helping them is a lot more powerful than we thought." He stated, looking incredibly nervous as he glanced back at the bandits.

"Is there any chance of a rescue or anything like that?" I asked, hoping for a chance to get free. But judging by the downtrodden look on his face, that was unlikely.

"Unfortunately, with the war going on, most of the military has been pulled away. It's been what allows these bandits to run wild." He told me, and I couldn't help but pale at that. Great, so we weren't even being rescued. Or at least it was improbable.

"You mentioned your larger population. Do you know if any-"

However, as I asked my question, I was shoved violently to the ground as I was hit on the back of the head. It was hard enough to hurt, but it was more distant pain, like not fully there. I could feel the slight disruption of the energy that held me together, of the Magicka that anchored me. For a brief moment, my existence became unstable, but the actual pain was a distant, muted thing.

"How about you to stop talking? Remember you are the prisoner here, and aint no rescue coming for you. And neither are ya escaping And if we feel like it, we can kill you, and our boss won't give a damn." He sneered down at me. I glared back at him briefly before he kicked me in the stomach. "Got that, you milk drinker." He sneered as he loomed over me, and I paused. He was right. I was the prisoner here...

I had a Unique existence that should absolutely be impossible or at least incredibly legendary. Like the Narvarine with their Corpus disease, which made them biologically immortal. The dragonborn with the soul of a dragon.

If I remember correctly, from the new ESO game, which took place in the distant past, they were missing their soul, which basically made them immortal.

Each of them had something unique about them that made them special and marked them as the hero of their story. And wasn't that what I was? I was a living shadow who maintained my own existence. That sounded pretty damn unique and special to me.

He was right; I was the Prisoner here, and the Prisoner must be unbound.

 

[LucaNox220]

As we were thrown into our cells, I was already reaching out to Shadow Magic and considering my next move. I remember Shadow Magic dealt with potential and possibilities, and I wondered if the Skeleton Key of Nocturnal used shadow magic. It would fit with her position as Lady Luck. She manipulated potential through the shadows.

But regardless of that possibility, the key thing I was focused on at the moment was using shadow magic to reach into the potential timeline in which the door was unlocked. Or rather, bringing about the possibility of the door being unlocked, which was distinctly possible. The cells weren't entirely filled, and they had been empty beforehand. So, theoretically, if they decided to throw us into a different set of cells, then this cell door could be unlocked rather than sealed shut.

But still, reaching through possibilities and potential to draw out that potential took work. It was a lot more complicated than I initially suspected. I thought it would be an easy thing to pull off, but instead, I nearly failed. But something within me bubbled up and bolstered my capabilities and stabilized me enough to reach through the sea of possibilities in order to draw forth that potential.

Was I already the hero? Or is this just the knowledge and soul of the person who summoned me into this world, helping me? Due to that aid, I managed to make it work, and the cell doors opened.

However, I made sure to keep the cell door closed, holding my hand around the bar so that it didn't immediately swing open. This gave me time to recover my strength as it had cost a lot of my reserves in order to open this door; about a third of my shadow magic reserves were now drained away.

But I didn't want to take too long and risk them coming over and discovering the truth. So, instead, I focused. Shadow magic was potent and versatile. It was based on imagination and imposing your will upon potential. Right. I was reaching through potential and enacting your will through it. Supposedly, you could draw forth objects, creatures and items from it. So, if I could mold the shadows into items, creatures and things like that, could I also mold them like a weapon? If imagination and visualization were vital in using magic, which accorded to the memories I had access to, it was. Then, I already had an image in my mind of how the shadows would work.

Several images in my mind of how the shadows could work. From Sakura Matou from Fate Stay Night and her Shadow Tendrils to Raven from Teen Titans and her Shadow Form and Telekinesis to Pride from Full Metal Alchemist and his Shadow Tendrils and Eyes. To the Green Lanterns and their rings. I had plenty of things to act as visualization for using shadow magic.

The Shadow lunged forward, wrapping around the bandits that were lounging around, barely keeping an eye on us as they drank and celebrated, occasionally leering at one of the female prisoners and banging on the cell bars to scare them.

This worked to my advantage as none of them paid attention to me. Most of them were just leaning in their seats or against the walls. They were bound too tightly for their strength to win, and due to their lack of attention, the shadows were already squeezing them dry by the time they noticed what was going on.

I could feel it, too; it was powerful and flowed into me as their life force siphoned away. The potential of all they could be being devoured by my own Shadow. Within moments, they were dead, and my strength was fully restored. Well, now that was convenient.

That was incredibly invigorating. There was a moment of silence from the various people around me as they realized I had just massacred a room full of men in an instant. Even if they had been drunk, men barely paying attention to us, but they had still been guards, armed and dangerous. And I just killed four men like it was nothing. I took a moment to recover my strength and just rest for a moment. It was exhausting to do what I just did and ridiculously inefficient, if I was being honest.

I was effectively just dumping as much power as I could into the world and molding it. I could tell I was being inefficient; I just didn't have the skill to be more efficient. It would take a lot of time, effort and practice for me to get better at it, so until then, I was forced to rely on subpar methods. Namely, just relying on the overwhelming power I had and the sheer amount of potential I could feel in the air around me.

This whole palace was bathed in conflict and shadow energy, or at least something I could easily tap into to convert into shadow energy. I was pretty sure right now I was as powerful as I'd be in a temple of a God of magic, which made sense. If Shadow Magic fed off conflict, then an old base would likely be bathed in conflict, especially one that was. Somewhere relatively important, I think.

They mentioned how he couldn't believe they attacked the town of Azra's Crossing, implying that it was a reasonably significant location. And given that there is a cult currently active here, I'm sure there's plenty of conflict and sacrifice and things like that to strengthen shadows further.

 

[LucaNox220]

But after their brief moment of stunned silence, they did not hesitate, practically bursting out of the cells. Some grabbed keys to help free the other prisoners, while others began scavenging for supplies. And the room itself had somewhere around 100 people in here in total, most of them crammed into tiny cells. The way we had come in had been through a back entrance to the dungeon, which meant hopefully we could escape from here out there, but there had been guards on the outside.

Furthermore, I could feel the shadows calling me deeper into the prison. If I was the prisoner, like I suspected, I had a feeling that my first quest was deeper in this dungeon. Even if I wasn't, I would love to get my hands on some of the spell books they likely had here. It was a chance to learn more about magic rather than just through the fragmented memories and instincts of the spirit within me. To be able to study properly. It was something I eagerly looked forward to.

"With this equipment, we should be able to overpower the guards outside and get to freedom before they notice anything's off." One man said as he began stripping the corpses of their equipment. Most of the men here weren't anything particularly impressive. Most likely, many of the fighting-age men had either been drawn away due to the war or killed by the bandits, leaving only a handful of either: young boys too young to be called away to war and unable to defend the town itself. Or older men too old to be called away to war and similarly useless in a fight.

All right, so the first step was getting out of here, which likely meant killing the bandits outside this place before I came back to go deeper into the dungeon. Actually, that might not be smart, either. Depending on how many of them were hanging around town or looting the place, that might just be them walking back into another death trap or might get the rest of the bandits in this place sent to kill them or something like that to send a message.

"Were there any more bandits in town, or did they all come back with us?" I asked as I considered that situation. Some of the people there scowled at the mention of the bandits.

"Bastards are still probably looting our homes." One of them spat to the side, and I nodded in response to their words. OK, that made my next step a lot clearer.

"Well then, it's best if we stay here first and clear out the bandits here before marching into the death trap in town." I pointed out as I considered things. Looking around the room, I could see some bows and arrows and a few swords. There are some old pieces of armor and several other pieces of equipment here that we could make use of.

Enough to defend the villagers. I'm sure some of them had enough skill with a bow to shoot any bandits that came close to us or at least have the bandits fleeing, as I doubt the bandits had much courage in the first place.

"OK, this is what we're going to do. We're going to kill the guards out there. Then some of you are going to pretend to be them while the others keep watch. As far as they're concerned, nothing is off, so if anyone comes by, just try and wave them off. If they do recognize you, kill them immediately." I said, taking charge, and to my surprise, I didn't really get much pushback.

I expected some people to argue for making a run for it. But I guess me being the one to free them all and kill an entire room full of guards in about two seconds flat and them a lot more cautious of crossing me in the first place. So even if they thought my idea was stupid, they were too scared of being made an example of to disagree outright.

"Alright then." The older gentleman said, looking incredibly nervous at the idea of fighting them directly, but at the same time understanding this was the best chance we had, or at least not willing to argue with me.
Sneaking up the stairs out of the dungeon that led to the base. I focused and drew on the shadows. I knew the men were directly on the other side of this door, and I could even feel them through the shadows itself. Let's see if I could pull off a repeat of my last move.

I felt the shadow surge forth once more and grab the two men standing on each side of the door. Similar to the other two, they were barely paying attention and barely even had time to react before they were slammed against the wall, and their vitality was being drained away as I crushed them.

Once again, they took a moment to strip the men of all the equipment they had on them. I myself personally took a Bow and Quiver: an axe, a short sword and a dagger. But I could not carry all this on me… I wondered if I could store things in the shadows. I could move through the shadows, so could I also store things in there? I focused, and then suddenly, the axe in my hand slid into the shadows. Oh, that was going to be so useful. I now had an inventory, although a very small one, as I could sort of feel its capacity, and it was pretty small; it could maybe hold around a dozen things.

But as fun as it was to explore magic, I knew I was operating on a ticking clock before the bandits realized we escaped. So, I began to make my way through the base. I focused on stealth, trying to sneak further into the base rather than setting off every alarm at once and having every bandit in the descent Down on me.

I did not need to go far before I ran into the next patrol as I could hear the coming, and I was fumbling to pull out my bow and use that single summer camp week of archery practice to good use.

I took a panicked breath and drew on the shadows to hide me. To my surprise, the shadows eagerly surged forth to cloak me in darkness and hide me from my targets. Enveloping me and making me completely invisible, huh?… neat. This gave me time to line up my shot as they completely missed me.

 

[LucaNox220]

Taking the time to aim my shot. I released a breath and released my arrow as I began to reach for another arrow, but to my surprise, the arrow flew through the air perfectly and went right through his eye, killing him instantly.

At the same time, I felt something about me just sort of clicked into place. What the hell was that? But I barely had time to think about that before I noticed the other two men drawing their swords. In panic and on semi-half coherent thought, I drew the bowstring back and watched in awe as the shadows flooded forward and another arrow formed in my hand and attached to the bowstring.

Loosing the second arrow, it went right through the leather armor of the man's chest and sent him tumbling bonelessly to the ground, likely dead as well or on his way.

But with two arrows loosed, the last bandit was able to guess my position roughly and rushed at me faster than I could draw another arrow. I rolled out of the way as he nearly bowled over me, dropping my bow in the process.

Seeing and hearing the bow clatter to the ground, he moved to finish me, swinging his sword wildly, trying to hit me. He opened his mouth to say something, and I panicked. Before he could alert anyone else to my being, I lunged forward and once more felt the shadows eagerly gather into my hands. "I know-" He began to shout, but before he could say another word, I plunged a dagger of shadows into his neck, silencing him.

Blood splurted all over my hands, but not as much as I would have thought. I noted distantly as I stared at my hands in surprise… until now, death had been a distant thing; I had done it with a magic arrow or shadowy tendrils. It did not feel real. But this, this felt real. As I drew in the shadows, I caught flashes of something-

"Hadvar, come back inside!" His wife called to him, and he groaned as he rested in his chair.

"Woman! I just got back from the mill!" He complained that he had not even gotten a chance to drink his mead, and she was already trying to get him to work around the house. He loved his woman, but sometimes he thinks he should have taken that mercenary job with Markus. He would have brought in more money, and he was damn good with a sword.

Hadvar held up his hands as the soldiers marched into the manor. Apparently, their mercenary work driving off bandits was actually a petty dispute between some lords. He thought about running from the soldiers but thought he might not get away, and they were less likely to cut him down where he stood if he surrendered rather than running away.

He looked between his fellow mercenaries, who seemed to be aiming to take what they were owed from the lord's land, as he had not paid them before the empire came down on him for his crimes. Right now, he was just some nameless mercenary who had been hired and fooled. If he went back, he was sure he could join another company. He would be out of pay, but he would not be a criminal either.

I pulled back as a lifetime of possibilities unfolded before every choice he could have made to do things differently. I saw every one of them. If he decided to take the mill job rather than mercenary work, he would have let his good sense win out over his greed when it came to one job if he surrendered instead of making a run for it. If he had not joined up with this particular group of bandits and instead stuck to mercenary work. All that flashed before me as his life faded away.

Then I collapsed to the ground, and it took every bit of strength I had not to throw up. Even then, the fact I didn't throw up Might have had more to do with the fact that I might not be capable of throwing up than any actual strength or will on my part.

That was overwhelming, disgusting, and… disappointing. I could see how many different ways his life could have stayed on the straight and narrow, but he chose the easier paths and the ones that satiated his greed. He was not forced down this path. He made this choice of his own free will and every choice that led him up to this point.

But I could also see how much better his life could have been if not for a single one of those decisions. He did not just decide to be a bandit one day; it was a choice every single time, each crime, but I could see how easy it would have been for him to stop if he just swallowed his pride and greed.

In the end, it was disappointing all that potential was wasted. Oddly enough, it also made dealing with the fact that I killed him a lot easier. This was his own choice. He was not some poor, unfortunate soul who was trapped in a bad situation. It was him making these choices which made it a lot easier to deal with.

Still, I took a moment to look myself over and see exactly what had happened. I was surprised by what I saw in the first place. I felt stronger and faster. Not only that, I could feel that my reserve of Space within the shadows had grown as well. I was also able to manipulate the shadows into things like weapons and constructs easily. Now, not just the vague tendrils of darkness I had been using before, but actual solid physical weapons.

In terms of strength, there wasn't really much difference between the two, but in terms of longevity, there was a clear difference as it required constant focus for me to maintain the shadow tendrils. The shadow dagger, even after I lost focus, was still in my hand and fully formed.

So even if the shadow tendrils were better for dealing with faraway opponents or a greater number of opponents. There was also a clear benefit to having Shadow Weapons themselves in my hand.

 

[LucaNox220]

As the dagger faded away. I could tell if it wasn't actually properly gone. It was still just sitting there, waiting to be called into my hand. We also feel like we are gradually breaking down and losing cohesion. It was still there; it just wasn't perfectly formed anymore, and over time, it would gradually fade away without me actively maintaining it.

At the same time, I felt stronger. No, I felt faster. The weapon in my hand danced between my fingers easier, and I was more easily able to draw the bow itself in the first place, as I just knew how to hold it better now. For a moment, I was confused, and they remembered, oh right, this was The Elder Scrolls universe. This was the total that Xannia/Wuxia martial arts training, Dragon Ball Z-style universe.

If I remember the lore correctly, there was the guy who could swing a sword so well; he could swing it perfectly enough to split a continent in half and People who used their understanding of the universe itself to bend to their will just by speaking certain words. Push aside the gameplay logic and focus on the lore, and the amount of crazy stuff people could do was absolutely insane.

I had just so perfectly performed a feat, and I somehow grew stronger. It wasn't that surprising when you considered it that way. I had perfectly drawn and fired that arrow twice, both times hitting someone dead in the eye and heart, respectively. I had also managed to react fast enough to draw and fire two arrows in under a second.

Also, I conjured a cloak of shadows around me and formed weapons of shadows in my hands in a split second. It would actually be weird if there had been no improvements; given what I knew of this universe and how it functioned, the gameplay I would have to remember was a poor example of how powerful characters could really get.

I took a moment to gather up the equipment of the men I had just killed. One thing I found convenient was that how you viewed things mattered. For example, if I dropped a quiver into my Shadow. That was fine. That was kind of this one object, but if I were to drop each individual arrow in there. It would fill up my inventory immediately.

So, how I viewed things mattered. And how I use magic, which is what allowed me to take all their equipment. For example, when I took their suit of armor, it was not. I took a set of boots, a set of gloves, a helmet, and. Leather jerking and leather pants. Instead, it was. I took their suit of armor. Singular, which allowed me to take the entire thing as if it were one object. Thankfully, this allowed me much more room within my shadow space to store stuff, as otherwise, even just a single set of equipment would have been enough to fill up my entire inventory completely.

With that, I was able to collect most of their stuff without burning through my entire storage space. However, I wonder what would happen if I shoved them all into a single sack. Would that qualify as just one object? Could I cheat magically like that or not to that extent? Well, I got all that done, and once I finished looting their bodies and then dragging them off to a corner. I began to make my way deeper into the fortress after taking a moment to recover my strength, of course, once more, resting for a moment.

It was quite concerning that I could feel the mana within me gradually shrinking in capacity, not diminishing and fading away where I could restore from the atmosphere, but like. It was not gradually filling up and wearing away in the first place like the total amount I could hold was gradually fading away, which was not a very comforting idea.

It made sense, though. As I mentioned before, everything that was summoned to Tamriel needed something to anchor them to this world. The spirit that was anchoring me here, or whatever remnants of his will. It was gradually fading away, and if I wanted to stick around, I needed to act fast.

Even if I didn't want to stick around, I wasn't going to just hurl myself back into the shadows and hope for the best that I would somehow end up back home. I needed to learn more about magic before I would even have a chance of getting back home.

My hope was that it would grant me a greater anchor, at least stop me from fading away, but I didn't want to rely on that. It was possible that my becoming the hero might get the world to actually notice that, hey, I'm not a part of it and just straight up banish me from it.

Of course, I wasn't left with much choice, because if I hadn't had broken free and become the Prisoner/Hero, then I likely would have been killed or sacrificed whatever weird Daedric cult this was.
/'/'/'/'/
Hey so I accidentally posted this in Creative writing when I meant to post it in NSFW creative writing while it is no Guarantee I actually will write anything not suitable for work there is the potential for it to come up in the story I messaged a moderator when I first posted the story asking if I could get it moved and they didn't respond and rather than continuing to wait I'm just going to repost the story in NSFW, here is the Link to it. (https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/shadow-of-the-self-elder-scrolls-multicross-si.23692/)