by Kveykva » Fri Mar 24, 2017 9:55 am
Nicholas Storm - Male - 31 - Breton - College of Winterhold - Tagged: All alone again
Nicholas was not nearly as drunk as he sounded. After his third song, he tucked the lute away, bringing the mead bottle to his lips. The Breton never cared for mead, but Skyrim certainly wasn't known for its wines. Besides, it was some of the best mead he'd ever had, and it had enough alcohol to give him the confidence to play his lute in his weary hours. Nick noticed neither Altavia nor the Kajiit mage in the beginning, and remained blissfully unaware of what prank may have befallen him. Instead, he lifted the amulet off his chest, turning it towards him to study its features. The blue gem glittered in the candlelight, dotting a faint reflection onto the Breton's face. It gave him comfort. The dazzling, runed stone was the only thing he had to remember his home by. Nicholas ran his thumb over the gold engravings, the crest depicting a bird and the runes below giving the amulet meaning. "One day..." He promised. "One day I'm going back. Maybe they'll want me this time..." It was hard to try and reassure himself, but whether he believed it or not, Nick dropped the amulet and turned to his side, blowing out the candles before fading into sleep.
Darkness. This time, though, it was a recognizable darkness. The Soul Cairn. The mage realized. With his hands in his pockets, the mage wandered the dead land of black spires and crying souls, though oddly no souls were anywhere to be seen. "How odd..." He noted aloud, following the worn path. As far as realms od the dead go, the Soul Cairn was a lively one, as in it was quite populated. Seeing it so empty now... the scene put Nicholas on edge. "Hello?" He called, his voice carrying tenfold in the emptiness. The swirling sky offered no response. A shape appeared in the distance, and Nicholas instantly recognized it as his horse. Revitalized, he charged in that direction, stumbling when he saw the same shadowing riding it as before. Before the Breton could call out, both rider and steed vanished into a strange mist covering the realm. That's new, The necromancer stood and dusted the crumbly soil off his robes, perplexed by the mist. He'd never seen anything like it in any realm of the dead, Soul Cairn or otherwise. It was unnatural. Inside, he could faintly see a dark shape moving within its depths. It almost looked... "Durnehviir?" He spoke it almost as a whisper, but the roar that responded was not that of the realm's draconic protector. It was one of a much larger dragon, starving for power. A spirit came stumbling from the fog, eyes wide. "Saint Jiub!" He instantly recognized the Dunmer. "What happened? What's going on?" The ancient Dunmer didn't answer, but a rush of wind brought about a response. "By Azura, it's still after me!" He exclaimed, staggering to his feet. "You can't stay here, boy. It's not safe for the dead or the living." Nicholas didn't know how to respond, but he never got a chance. A second roar sounded, far closer than the last. "Fly, you fool! I can only grant you moments!" Nick couldn't move. His joints were locked as the ground shook beneath his feet, a spiny shadow crawling from the fog. Jiub shouted something else, but Nicholas no longer heard him, his attention locked on the creature mere feet in front of him. Its black maw open as it spoke, the Dunmer vanishing an instant, drawn into its body. "Jiub!" He screamed, entirely distraught. What just happened? He didn't know. Nick only saw himself alone with the colossal dragon, its red eyes blazing. His hands quaked at his sides, but he was too terrified to summon anything, much less defend himself against that sort of power. "Rii..." The dragon growled, forming a shout in the back of its throat. Nicholas would be dead any second.
The Breton awoke with a gasp, his chest tightening with each heavy breath. It's only a dream... Only a dream, Nick tried to steady his breathing, almost gasping for air at the moment. It seemed as though he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon.