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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Aerion slowly pulled his face away from the crack in the door, his mind actively discarding the divine solution and rapidly constructing a vast, vastly more complex, incredibly lethal, purely arcane tactical protocol to dismantle the Ebony wielding horrors. He slipped seamlessly back up the dirt slope, returning to the crouched Housecarl. "Lydia," Aerion whispered, his golden eyes burning with absolute, lethal focus. "Draw your sword. We have quite the problem on the other side."
The moment the whispered words left Aerion's lips, the crisp, metallic hiss of steel echoed softly in the damp cavern.
Lydia drew her steel sword with flawless, practiced fluidity. She immediately brought her heavy iron shield up, settling into a low, braced vanguard stance, her dark eyes entirely focused on the rusted iron door separating them from the chamber below.
"Deathlords," Lydia repeated, her voice a hushed, incredulous whisper. She turned her head slightly to look at her Thane, her brow deeply furrowed with genuine, tactical apprehension. "Are you absolutely certain, Thane Aerion? With Ebony weapons?"
"My eyes do not deceive me, Lydia," Aerion confirmed quietly, keeping his posture perfectly still to avoid making a sound on the loose dirt of the slope. "Two of them. One wielding an Ebony Greatsword, the other holding an Ebony Bow. They are patrolling at the far end of the chamber."
Lydia swallowed hard. The seasoned Housecarl possessed absolutely no fear of death, but she possessed a highly refined understanding of martial reality.
"I have heard the stories sung by the bards in the taverns, my Thane," Lydia whispered urgently, her grip tightening on the leather handle of her sword. "The Deathlords are the absolute pinnacle of the ancient Nordic honored dead. They were warlords and conquering generals in life. They are terrifyingly resilient. If it is only the two of us... can we realistically breach that room and survive? I have never faced one myself, but standard steel is prone to be dulled against solid Ebony."
Aerion nodded slowly, completely validating her highly pragmatic concerns. He appreciated a bodyguard who could accurately assess a lethal threat rather than blindly charging into the meat grinder.
"Your assessment of their prowess is entirely accurate, Lydia," Aerion replied softly, his golden eyes cold and analytical. "They are incredibly durable, and their physical strikes are devastating. However, the Ebony weapons are only the secondary threat."
He paused, ensuring she understood the gravity of the situation.
"They possess the ability to utilize the Thu'um," Aerion warned her. "They can Shout."
Lydia's eyes widened in profound shock. The reality of facing enemies who could warp the battlefield with a single breath fundamentally altered the combat geometry.
"Then what is our strategy, my Thane?" Lydia asked, her voice steadying as she yielded entirely to his command. "If they Shout, we will be crushed against the stone before we can even close the distance."
"They cannot Shout if they cannot catch their breath," Aerion stated, a dark, incredibly sociopathic smile touching his lips.
He seamlessly laid out the tactical blueprint.
"I will breach the door first," Aerion instructed, his melodic voice dropping to a rapid, commanding cadence. "The absolute millisecond we have line of sight, I will unleash an overwhelming, continuous bombardment of my highest tier Destruction magic. I will weave Fire, Frost, and Lightning simultaneously. The sheer kinetic and thermal shock will stagger their physical frames and violently interrupt any attempt they make to vocalize a Thu'um."
He gestured to the open space in front of the door.
"While they are staggered, I will instantly conjure a pair of Flame Atronachs to act as our primary shock troops," Aerion continued smoothly. "Once the Atronachs are manifested and drawing their aggression, I will cease the elemental bombardment. That is your cue. You will charge the dais alongside the Atronachs and engage them in melee. Do not attempt to block the Ebony Greatsword directly with your shield, you must parry and redirect the kinetic momentum."
"And your support?" Lydia asked, committing the battle plan to memory.
"While you and the summons hold their attention, I will immediately shift my arcane matrix," Aerion promised. "I will rain concentrated Purify spells directly upon them. The holy light will burn away the necromantic magicka tethering their souls to the armor, drastically reducing their impossible durability. We break their tethers, and we break their bones."
Lydia offered a sharp, singular nod of absolute readiness. "I understand the plan, my Thane. We strike hard, and we do not let them breathe."
Aerion turned his gaze down to the small, cinnamon colored fox sitting quietly by his boots.
"Lupin," Aerion commanded softly, pointing a finger back up the dirt slope. "Stay. Do not enter the chamber."
The familiar offered a soft, obedient whine, immediately turning and trotting several yards back up the tunnel, pressing his small body safely into a dark crevice in the rocks.
Aerion turned back to the heavy iron door. He raised both of his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he drew deeply from his massive augmented pool of Magicka. The air around his palms began to visibly distort, crackling with raw, suppressed elemental violence.
"On my mark," Aerion whispered.
He didn't push the door open slowly this time. He engaged his physical strength and violently kicked the heavy iron barrier inward.
The door slammed against the stone wall with a deafening, echoing crash.
Aerion surged through the threshold, Lydia a half-step behind his right shoulder.
The two Draugr Deathlords standing upon the raised stone dais instantly snapped their horned, terrifying skulls toward the entrance. The blinding, hateful blue light in their empty eye sockets flared with ancient fury. The Deathlord on the left raised its massive Ebony Greatsword, its jaw unhinging to unleash the Unrelenting Force.
It never managed to form the first syllable.
"Burn!" Aerion roared.
Aerion unleashed absolute, unadulterated arcane hell. He didn't cast a single spell, he rapidly cycled through his entire elemental arsenal in a blinding, continuous barrage of localized destruction.
A massive, roaring sphere of superheated Incinerate plasma streaked across the room, slamming directly into the chest plate of the greatsword wielding Deathlord. The kinetic impact threw the massive corpse violently backward.
A fraction of a second later, a jagged, absolute zero Icy Spear materialized from Aerion's left hand, striking the archer Deathlord in the shoulder just as it attempted to draw its Ebony Bow, encasing its arm in a heavy block of solid ice.
Aerion didn't stop.
He thrust both hands forward, unleashing a blinding, crackling torrent of Chain Lightning. The purple electricity arced violently between the two ancient warlords, electrocuting their dead nervous systems and causing their heavy armor to spark and smoke.
The Deathlords let out horrific, gurgling shrieks of rage, entirely pinned down by the relentless, overlapping bombardment. The sheer concussive force of the explosions physically prevented them from stabilizing their footing or drawing the necessary breath to Shout.
"Come out!" Aerion commanded, shifting his magicka focus for a single, critical heartbeat.
Twin pillars of swirling, roaring fire erupted from the stone floor at the base of the dais. Two towering, floating Flame Atronachs materialized from the summoning circles, their bodies forged entirely of molten slag and dark iron armor.
"Now, Lydia! Strike!" Aerion shouted, instantly cutting off the elemental barrage.
Lydia did not hesitate. The Housecarl let out a fierce, blood curdling Nordic battle cry, charging across the chamber alongside the two floating fire elementals.
The Deathlords, finally freed from the stagger lock of the Destruction magic, recovered with terrifying, unnatural speed. The greatsword wielder lunged forward to meet the vanguard.
Lydia slid flawlessly under a massive, horizontal cleave of the Ebony blade, the razor sharp black metal whistling mere inches above her helmet. She bashed her steel shield upward, entirely redirecting the Deathlord's wrist, before driving her broadsword directly into the exposed gap in the ancient Nordic armor at its waist.
Simultaneously, the two Flame Atronachs began hurling rapid fire bolts of raw fire at the archer, forcing the second Deathlord to abandon its bow and draw a heavy Ebony war axe to defend itself in close quarters.
Standing near the entrance, Aerion fluidly shifted his arcane matrix. The destructive plasma faded from his palms, instantly replaced by a blinding, searing golden white aura.
He dual cast Purify, funneling the holy light into a tight, highly concentrated beam of divine radiation.
He swept the golden beam across the dais, directly washing over the two Deathlords currently engaged in a brutal melee with his vanguard.
The reaction was immediate. The holy light did not explode, but it burned with a terrifying, absolute purity. The necromantic tethers holding the ancient corpses together began to violently sizzle and smoke.
The Deathlords shrieked in genuine agony, their movements suddenly growing sluggish as the divine magic actively dissolved the unholy energy granting them their impossible durability.
The combat was incredibly fierce. Even weakened by the holy light, the Deathlords were absolute monsters of martial prowess.
The greatsword wielder violently kicked Lydia in the chest, the massive physical force sending the Housecarl tumbling backward down the stone steps of the dais, though her heavy armor absorbed the worst of the impact.
The Deathlord turned its furious, burning blue eyes upon the nearest Flame Atronach. It raised the massive Ebony Greatsword high above its horned helmet and brought it down in a devastating, two handed executioner's strike.
The black blade cleaved cleanly, perfectly through the center of the fire elemental's molten body.
The Atronach shrieked, its magical cohesion instantly shattered by the flawless Ebony strike.
But Aerion had fully anticipated the casualty. He had specifically relied upon it.
"Lydia! Take cover!" Aerion yelled.
When a Flame Atronach is slain, it does not simply vanish. Its core violently destabilizes.
The dying elemental flared with a sudden, blinding, apocalyptic white light.
BOOM!
A massive, localized supernova violently erupted directly in the face of the two Deathlords. The concussive blast of superheated fire and shrapnel tore across the dais.
The sheer, overwhelming kinetic force of the Atronach's death explosion was the absolute final nail in the coffin. The Deathlords, their ancient armor already superheated by the plasma and their necromantic durability entirely stripped away by Aerion's continuous Purify beam, could not withstand the blast.
The greatsword wielder was violently thrown backward, its thick ancient armor completely shattering into jagged, burning shrapnel, its spine snapping audibly against the stone throne. The archer was blown completely off the dais, crashing heavily onto the cobblestones below, entirely motionless.
The chamber fell utterly, suffocatingly silent, save for the crackling of the lingering magical flames.
Lydia pushed herself up from the floorboards, coughing slightly as she waved the thick smoke away from her face. She looked at the two shattered, unmoving corpses of the ancient warlords.
"By the Eight," Lydia breathed heavily, sheathing her sword. "They were like walking mountains. That explosion was terrifying."
"A calculated sacrifice of the Attronachs to preserve our safety," Aerion noted smoothly, walking into the chamber. "You fought exceptionally well, Lydia. You held their aggression perfectly."
Aerion bypassed the scattered bones and approached the shattered remains of the first Deathlord lying near the throne. He reached down, effortlessly picking up the massive, flawlessly forged Ebony Greatsword. The dark metal was incredibly heavy, perfectly balanced, and entirely unblemished despite the apocalyptic explosion.
He then walked to the second corpse, retrieving the beautifully carved Ebony Bow and a heavy leather quiver containing exactly ten armor piercing Ebony Arrows.
"Thane Aerion," Lydia stepped forward, gesturing to the heavy armaments in his hands. "Allow me to carry the spoils. You should not be burdened with heavy steel while casting."
Aerion paused, his transmigrator mind rapidly evaluating the offer.
He could easily, seamlessly absorb the massive weapons directly into his digital void. However, Lydia had only recently been sworn to his service. While she was absolute in her loyalty, she was not yet fully initiated into the deeper, highly secretive mechanics of his reality warping existence.
Making massive, incredibly valuable artifacts vanish into thin air right in front of her might raise unnecessary questions that he simply did not have the time to answer right now.
Maintaining the illusion of a standard, heavily burdened expedition was the vastly more secure tactical choice.
"I appreciate your diligence, Lydia," Aerion agreed smoothly, handing the heavy armaments over. "Secure them to your pack."
Lydia took the massive Ebony Greatsword, expertly strapping the dark, heavy sheath diagonally across her back, directly alongside her own Whiterun broadsword. She secured the Ebony Bow and the quiver of arrows to the side of her heavy supply pack. She now looked like a walking, heavily armored armory.
With the loot secured, Aerion turned his attention to the back of the dais.
Resting prominently upon an intricately carved stone display rack, mounted directly on the wall behind the throne, was the objective. It was the ceremonial, ancient Nordic handaxe, perfectly preserved.
Aerion stepped up to the wall and lifted the ceremonial axe from its resting place. The weapon was cold to the touch, forged of dull, ancient steel.
Lydia looked up at the artifact. "Is that the key we require to breach the sanctum, my Thane?"
"It is one half of the mechanism, yes," Aerion nodded, sliding the axe into his belt. "The ceremonial axe of the honored dead. The first objective is officially secured."
He turned back toward the dark, ascending tunnel. Lupin the fox trotted happily out from his hiding spot, rejoining his master's heels.
"Let us return to the main hall," Aerion commanded. "We must rendezvous with the other group and ensure they have secured the second key."
They climbed back up the treacherous dirt slope, retracing their steps through the ash filled corridors of the left wing. Without the Draugr to impede their progress, the return journey took mere minutes.
They pushed through the heavy iron portcullis and stepped back into the massive, echoing central hall of Volunruud.
The cavernous room was empty.
"We are the first to return," Aerion noted, standing near the center of the hall. "We wait."
They did not have to wait long. Approximately ten minutes later, the heavy sound of clanking steel and crunching boots echoed from the right archway.
Aeloria, Jenassa, and Valdemar emerged from the gloom.
They looked significantly worse for wear than Aerion's surgical strike team. Aeloria's heavy Steel Plate armor was covered in deep, fresh scratches and a thick layer of freezing dust. Valdemar had a nasty, bleeding gash across his left cheek, and Jenassa was favoring her right leg slightly, though her crimson eyes remained as sharp as ever.
"We secured the right area," Aeloria announced, her voice heavy with exhaustion. She leaned her battleaxe against a stone pillar. "But it was a brutal slog. The Draugr in there were swarming like angry hornets. Valdemar caught a glancing blow from a heavy axe, and Jenassa tripped a spinning blade trap pushing me out of the way."
Aerion immediately stepped forward, his hands already glowing with the warm, brilliant golden light of Restoration magic.
"Stand still. Do not move," Aerion instructed the battered vanguard.
He swept his hands over them, funneling his vastly leveled Healing magic directly into their injuries. The deep gash on Valdemar's cheek instantly knit itself back together, leaving only a faint pink scar. The bruising on Jenassa's leg faded, the localized pain entirely evaporating under the holy light.
"Your restorative arts are a profound blessing, Thane Aerion," Valdemar sighed in absolute relief, rolling his shoulders as the pain vanished.
"It saves us from hauling bandages," Jenassa grunted softly, testing her weight on her leg.
"Did you secure the artifact?" Aerion asked, cutting straight to the objective.
Jenassa reached over her shoulder and pulled a weapon from the straps of her pack. She held it out. It was a ceremonial, perfectly preserved ancient Nordic sword.
"Is this the one we need, Patron?" Jenassa asked, handing the blade to him.
Aerion took the sword, examining the ancient runes carved into the dull steel. He nodded slowly, maintaining his scholarly facade.
"It should be the exact match," Aerion confirmed, gripping both Okin and Eduj in his hands. "Let us hope it is the correct key, or we shall be spending the next several hours attempting to manually breach a magically sealed door."
He turned, leading the fully healed, reunited strike team toward the massive, imposing double iron doors situated at the absolute center of the main hall.
They walked cautiously past a long row of crumbling, ancient stone embalming tables that dominated the center of the room, approaching the sealed entrance to the Elder's Cairn.
The doors were massive, forged of thick, dark iron, and entirely devoid of standard handles or keyholes. Instead, etched deeply into the center of the iron surface were two distinct, highly specific indentations. One was shaped perfectly to fit the blade of an ancient Nordic sword. The other was shaped to fit the head of an ancient handaxe.
Aerion stepped up to the door.
With deliberate, dramatic precision, he slotted the ceremonial sword, directly into the left indentation. It clicked into place perfectly. He then raised the ceremonial axe, and pressed it firmly into the right indentation.
For a long, heavy second, nothing happened.
Then, a massive, deep, grinding sound echoed from within the walls of the crypt. The sound of heavy stone gears turning and ancient, rusted tumblers falling into place vibrated through the floorboards. The wards sealing the sanctum violently dissipated with a sharp, audible hiss of escaping air.
CLACK.
The heavy locking mechanism disengaged.
Aerion placed his hands flat against the dark iron and pushed. The massive double doors groaned loudly as they swung inward, revealing a long, wide, descending stone hallway completely shrouded in darkness.
"The sanctum is opened," Aerion says. "We proceed in single line formation. Aeloria, take the vanguard. I will provide illumination and artillery."
Aeloria nodded firmly, hefting her blazing battleaxe. Valdemar and Lydia instantly flanked her, forming an impenetrable, three person wall of heavy steel. Jenassa melted into the shadows directly behind them, her bow drawn. Aerion brought up the rear, casting a bright Magelight orb that floated gracefully above their heads, casting harsh, moving shadows down the long corridor.
They marched slowly down the descending hallway.
As they rounded a wide corner, the shadows ahead suddenly shifted.
"Contact!" Aeloria shouted.
Three Draugr Wights, heavily armored and wielding rusted greatswords, charged up the hallway to defend the sanctum.
But against the fully reunited, fully healed strike team, the undead did not stand a chance. They worked in absolutely flawless, terrifying tandem.
Aeloria violently bashed the first Wight with the haft of her axe, staggering it instantly. Valdemar stepped in, driving his sword through the creature's chest. Lydia parried the second Wight's heavy swing, leaving it entirely exposed for Jenassa, who put a steel arrow directly through its eye socket.
Aerion didn't even need to use destruction magic. He simply fired a short, concentrated burst of Purify, dissolving the third Wight into a pile of ash before it could even raise its weapon.
They moved over the ashes without breaking stride, continuing their march into the depths.
The hallway finally widened, opening entirely into the massive, sprawling main chamber of the Elder's Cairn.
The room was vast, circular, and incredibly imposing. Heavy stone pillars supported a domed ceiling. In the absolute center of the room, resting atop a high, circular stone dais, was an ancient, heavily decorated throne.
And sitting upon that throne was a horror unlike anything they had ever encountered.
It was not a rotting corpse. It was an ethereal, translucent, ghostly white shade of a towering Nordic warlord. It glowed with a sickly, chilling pale light, its eyes burning with pure, unadulterated hatred.
Kvenel the Tongue.
But what made the shade truly terrifying was that despite its ghostly, ethereal nature, it was holding physical weapons.
Gripped tightly in its translucent hands were the true, legendary, fully powered versions of Okin and Eduj, radiating an intense, freezing fog of ancient magic.
As the strike team stepped into the chamber, Kvenel the Tongue slowly stood up from the throne.
He was not alone.
The sound of grinding stone echoed from every corner of the vast chamber. Rising from the dark, hidden alcoves surrounding the central dais were several high tier undead.
Massive Draugr Scourges wrapped in thick armor, and heavily armed Draugr Wights, their blue eyes snapping toward the intruders in perfect, lethal synchronization.
Kvenel raised his ethereal, dual wielded blades toward the ceiling. The ghost unhinged his jaw, taking a massive, deep breath, preparing to unleash the devastating fury of the Thu'um upon the mortals who dared to breach his tomb.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 540/540 Stamina: 560/560 Magicka: 750/750
Level: 145
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+3)/Lightning(+1)/Frost(+1)) (Level 42/76/41), Restoration (Healing(+1)/Purify(+2)) (Level 31/25), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/26), Persuasion(+1) (Level 89), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 87), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor(+1) (Level 0), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii (Fade Spirit), & Su (Air)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, Hide Boots Of Sneak, Gold Ruby Ring of Fortify Magicka, Iron Garnet Ring of Fortify Conjuration & Magicka Regen, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Honed Ancient Nord Sword of Sparks, Gold Emerald Circlet, & Scroll of Fire Storm, Ring of Archery,Hide Boots of Stamina, Ancient Nord Sword of Absorbing, Iron Garnet Circlet, & Iron Sapphire Circlet
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, Amethysts, Potions of Plentiful Magicka, Scroll of Conjure Familiar, & Scroll of Magelight
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, Iron Necklace, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), & Potions of Minor Magicka
4x Spider Eggs, Garnets, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
7x Vampires Dust
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)
Weight: 90.20 KG / 580 KG
Septims: 82,277