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Betad by morde24
The Guild of Gamers: The Vampire
Chapter 02: Spells and Incantations, for those with the talent to cast them
Waking up from my rest, I find an immediate issue that I can't really deal with.
It's still daylight, and daylight hurts.
A lot, as my brief step out into the sun demonstrates.
I did notice that I only burnt on my uncovered face and arms, but while it does imply I can probably just cover up it doesn't really help now as there isn't anything hooded around the cave.
I did however find three separate chests of loot containing septims, gemstones, and curiously enough a book on magic and a spellbook.
Not including Clairvoyance, which I was expecting to find, as that's usually on the table in their little store room.
In fact, none of the spells are a part of the Skyrim spell list, which makes sense since with a real world the magic system would be more developed than Skyrim's frankly lazy system.
With nothing better to do, I read through the book on magical lore, one I don't recognise from my time in the Elder Scrolls system, with growing confusion.
From the diary of a bandit, both books were taken from the corpse of a novice mage trying to find his way to Winterhold, and the lore book tells me that I'm not in the Skyrim I grew familiar with.
It includes a primer on the different kinds of spellcasters, including Wizards, Warlocks, Sorcerers, Artificers, Druids, Clerics and Paladins.
Wizards are the only respectable spellcasters according to the author, who learnt to use the forces of magic through constant study and research, Artificers are a branch of Wizards who study the lost arts of the Dwemer.
Warlocks are power hungry fools who have made a pact with Daedra or a different otherworldly force for power.
Sorcerers are people born with image power they can't control, needing no studying but also having a much more limited selection of spells.
Druids gain their power from communing with nature, a gift from Kynareth.
Clerics and Paladins are two sides to the same septim, worshippers of gods who gain their powers from their service to the gods. They are apparently powerful but the author claims they aren't true magic users as they have no powers of their own, needing to call on the powers of their god.
I sense a certain bias in the author's writing, along with a hint of bitterness. Someone is pissed that he spent decades studying only for someone to say a prayer and become more powerful than him.
And since I know DnD classes when I see them… that would make the second book a Wizard's Spellbook.
Opening it up, I feel almost cheated at how empty it is. Clearly this Wizard wasn't an accomplished one from the fact that they only have a rather unimpressive three spells written down on it, a Cantrip and two 1st Level spells.
They also seemed to have a thing for conjuration, as all the spells are apparently from that school of magic.
Mage Hand, Find Familiar, and Unseen Servant.
Going back to the magical primer, I read further as it dives into the different schools of magic, and narrow my eyes at the list.
Abjuration, Conjuration, Divination, Enchantment, Evocation, Illusion, Necromancy, Restoration and Transmutation.
The author insists that Druidic, Warlock and Clerical magic is not true magic and shouldn't be classified as such. He also goes on a tangent about the difference between Enchantment, the school of magic, and Enchantment, the art of creating enchanted items.
Apparently the masters in both arts have been squabbling over which should change their name for the last few hundred years or so.
He's a bit of a whiner, but Enchantment is apparently all magic that affects the mind, and spells like Fear and Fury fall into that category, not Illusion.
With nothing better to do, I spend my time trying to learn to cast the spells in the Wizard's Spellbook, but without the materials needed for Find Familiar, I settle for trying to cast Unseen Servant instead, as it just needs some string and wood both of which I find while scrounging around the cave.
I also tested my spider climb ability, literally walking up the walls, getting the hang of it after a few embarrassing attempts and take a bath in the small pool of water sitting in the back of the cave.
It's not the most hygenic, but I have to get used to it because medieval worlds don't tend to have running water, nevermind showers or hot tubs. Thankfully waterfalls don't count as running water, apparently, and I use the heat from the forge to dry off.
After what seems like hours of failed attempts, I feel something happen, a drain on an energy pool I didn't know I had as the air shimmers and the string and wood shake briefly before going still.
There is no other visible sign of something happening but I can feel the servant awaiting orders, the invisible force lingering in the cave with me. Cautiously I give it a simple order, to fetch me the empty wine bottle I can see on the floor next to the table I'm sitting at, my eyes widening as the bottle seemingly levitates and hovers over to me.
As I take it, I feel the servant's invisible fingers brush against mine as I grin, my first successful spell!
Which was a lot easier and more successful than the years of sacrifice and manipulations.
Despite the feeling of it's hand when it passed me the wine, swiping my hand through the spot where I know it to be waiting is unsuccessful, perhaps it's only tangible when it's interacting with the world?
It's certainly useful and I can see why the wizard bothered to learn it, but perhaps if he'd bothered to learn an actual combat spell he wouldn't have died to some weak bandits.
Mage Hand is easier to learn, perhaps because of the fact that I've already learnt how to use the energies within myself, and it only takes an hour or so to manifest the spectral hand which I gleefully manoeuvre around the room, picking up random things and tossing them around.
I'm keeping the dead man's spellbook, it's got so much free space and it's quite a nice design. The deep purple hardback tome has a silver pentagram inside a circle engraved on the cover, with the word 'Spells' embossed above it.
He might have failed as a mage, but perhaps I can continue his studies in his stead. I spent the years of my first life studying the occult without any success, I won't miss out on an opportunity to study the real thing.
But by my estimation, I still have a couple of hours of daylight left before it's safe to slip out and start… whatever the hell I'm doing here.
I never bothered getting dressed again after taking a bath, and with nothing better to do for now I head back into the pool of cold water.
It's cold but not uncomfortably so, which is perfect for me as I sink into the fairly shallow water and just close my eyes, relaxing as I think about what the hell I'm going to do.
I've spent thousands of hours in Skyrim, but my normal methods for playing the game are likely to change now that the people have actual free will. I have no real plan for what I'm going to do and that's a problem.
I have no home, no allies, only a handful of stolen belongings, and a few spells and abilities that won't help me if I get into a real fight.
The Vigilants of Stendarr, the Dawnguard, maybe the Companions as well, I'm surrounded by threats that could send me to my final death, and I need a plan if I'm going to survive this borderline death-world.
The first thing that comes to mind is that I need a lair, because my vampiric ability, Misty Escape, specifies that I can retreat to my resting place.
Which I don't have yet, so I think I need to find somewhere I can stash a coffin for me to heal in, and a cave that anyone could wander into isnt going to cut it.
I also should consider joining one of the organisations, not the Companions since I don't want their attention and I certainly don't want Hircines. The College of Winterhold is a possibility since it's questionable whether they'd even care that I am a Vampire, since they openly study necromancy.
I have no desire to join Harkon's court, I'm not a regular vampire and if anyone is going to realise that it'd be the Vampire Lord of Skyrim himself, which could attract Molag Bal's attention.
The Bard's College is another possibility, with my apparently amazing singing, but they lack the power to protect me should the worse happen.
The civil war is a mess, and while I prefer the Imperials I hate the Thalmor. Perhaps when I'm more powerful I'll consider touching that tangled mess, but for now they can fight amongst themselves and not bother me.
Which leaves me with three choices; the Thieves Guild, the Dark Brotherhood or I can try and become the Thane of a hold by making myself too useful for them to get rid off.
Falkreath would be my best chance, and helpfully, that's also where the Dark Brotherhood is, so perhaps I should get greedy, joining the Brotherhood while also starting to ingrain myself into the court of Falkreath.
I'm sure Jarl Siddgeir could be brought around to the advantages of having a sexy assassin at his beck and call, a man like him is bound to have countless enemies and from what little he does in the game he certainly seems the type to hire one.
An arrogant man who thinks his wealth makes him untouchable, that his position gives him the right to treat everyone around him however he pleases.
I've dealt with the type before: one of my former teachers was a rich old man who thought that tenure and his family's power was enough to let him do whatever the hell he wanted, to whoever the hell he wanted.
It made passing that class fairly easy, not that I needed the help, and in the end he learnt the dangers of taking advantage of supposedly innocent young women.
You never know who could be less innocent than they look. I didn't even get charged for that murder, they couldn't prove the fire was my doing since they thought his wife was the one to lock him in his bedroom that night since they'd been fighting over his infidelities.
Because he was so respected, it didn't even cross their mind that someone else could have been there that night. In fact, he was dead even before the fire started, he just didn't know it yet.
I got good at poisoning people, if he managed to get out of his fancy house, he'd have died within the hour anyway.
His wife didn't even get in trouble, she used his money to lawyer up and they couldn't prove she did anything even after the reports of their fighting. She certainly wasn't particularly upset about it though. She bought a new home in the Caribbean and probably spent the rest of her days being fed margaritas by scantily clad pool-boys.
Good for her. That kind of thing can either break you, or you can use it to make you stronger. She survived a cheating, and abusive husband, took all his money and lived the good life for what years she had left.
If Siggy plays nice and plays smart, he can benefit from having a pet sociopath as a Thane, and if he proves too troublesome…
Well, there's a war going on and right now it's pretty dangerous to be on either side of it, I'm sure the Stormcloaks don't like the fact that the Imperial sympathiser replaced his Imperial hating uncle as Jarl.
So, to the Dark Brotherhood then, which means, if I'm going by game-logic, I need to go to Windhelm, then Riften to kill Grelod, back to Windhelm then have Astrid kidnap me.
Or I could just go to Falkreath and knock on the door of the Black Sanctuary, I even know the password but I know better than to show up at the lair of a cult of assassins uninvited.
That doesn't mean I can't tip things in my favour, because if I take the road from Whiterun to Windhelm, I might run into Cicero, and making a… friend of the Keeper before I even join is bound to help my chances of being recruited.
Ugh, I'm going to have to deal with the whole Astrid vs Cicero thing, and it's blatant which side is right.
Astrid turning her back on the Night Mother and Sithis is the height of stupidity, you don't turn your back on the Dread Father, not in a world where gods are irrefutably real. To say nothing of her decision to tell the fucking secret police where the Sanctuary was, and somehow being surprised when the man, whose son the Brotherhood killed just days before, betrayed her.
When, or if, the DragonBorn shows up, I'll deal with Astrid before she can betray the Brotherhood.
Somehow.
It's not the most thought out plan, but I'll work on it.
Sighing, I make a mental note to get my hands on a hood and something I can wear to cover my face so I can actually move during the daytime.
I'm so bored.
Still, I have a way to keep myself entertained while I wait for the sun to politely fuck off, and slowly moving my hand down my stomach I gently start to rub my finger along my slit, leaning back as my other hand reaches up and carefully gropes one of my breasts, teasing my nipple as I make damn sure to keep my new strength under control, the last thing I need is to tear off a boob.
I like my breasts the way they are, perky, supple, and very symmetrical and I'd like to keep them that way.
As I slowly slide one of my fingers into my slit, I pause as I get a devilish idea.
My Unseen Servant is right there, just lingering around awaiting instructions, and I have just the instruction for it, it has hands after all.
Sending my order, I gasp slightly as I feel two invisible hands immediately touch me, I can see my breast move with the invisible force as one of the hands gropes it, the other caressing my ass despite the fact that I'm sitting down on said backside.
I'm definitely starting to see the benefits of this spell, and as another hand takes the place of my own, teasing my pussy, I lean back and let out a quiet moan.
I suppose a magical, ethereal, being doesn't need to worry about mortal things like only having two hands.
Yeah, I definitely think this world is going to be a lot more fun than the last one, dangers aside.
Later
Heading down the road towards Riverwood, I make sure to stay in the open so the guard notices me.
Luckily, the bandits had some woman's clothes that fit me, probably from someone they attacked on the road as none of them were female, the red dress is fairly fancy but nothing special.
I've torn it a bit to make it look damaged, then I dirtied it up to add to the image.
In the game, the wall around Riverwood didn't have a gate, and Riverwood had like four houses in it. From the top of a tree I managed to get a look over Riverwood, and it's closer to forty.
But it's definitely Riverwood, it has the sawmill, and Bleak Falls Barrow is looming over it, but everything seems bigger.
I could even see Whiterun, but it seems like it's actually miles away on foot, and without using my vampiric speed it seems like it'd take days to reach.
Helgen is also pretty far from Riverwood, and it's a smouldering ruin, it was definitely a recent thing, since parts of it were still on fire when I got there. As a person who burns very easily, you'll understand why I didn't go inside the burning city.
There is a wolf pack lingering near the cave, but they had plenty of food with the bandit corpses I tossed out of the secret entrance, so they didn't even bother me after I showed that I was too fast to be worth chasing.
"Who goes there?" the guard shouts down as he stares down at me from atop the wall, the torch I'm reluctantly carrying making me easy to spot in the darkness.
I don't like fire, and that was true even before it was one of my main weaknesses, but I need to play the part.
"Just a traveller." I reply calmly, watching as he pauses before he heads down the stairs and opens the wicket gate, giving me a very lord of the rings feel to it as he stares at me suspiciously.
"A little late to be traveling alone, especially for a young woman." the guard says, sounding nothing like the guards in the game, much to my disappointment.
"It's not by choice, I assure you. I chose the wrong time to come to Skyrim, with all the trouble up at Helgen." I say calmly, making his eyes widen.
"Helgen? You know what happened up there?" he asks, making me pause. Has the Last DragonBorn not come this way? What about Hadvar or Ralof?
"I wish I didn't, but I saw it all firsthand, at least until a brick was knocked from one of the towers and knocked me out. I woke up under some rubble after it was all over, and I've been walking ever since. I'm lucky to be alive, even luckier that I had the foresight to carry a healing potion on me, and that it wasn't crushed." I lie through my teeth. "A dragon attacked the town, as ridiculous as it sounds even to me, and I watched it happen. Has no-one else come from Helgen? I don't know how long I was out, but I couldn't find anyone when I woke up, maybe they went to Falkreath instead." I say, running a hand through my hair in faux-nerves as he moves back and lets me enter the village, closing the door behind me.
Now that we are face to face, I realise something odd. He's not wearing the Skyrim guard uniform, he's just wearing basic iron armour. Perhaps there's a village militia?
"No, we all heard the noises, even from here, and a couple of people claim they saw a shadow fly over the village but nobody has come down the road in days." the possible militiaman says, a noticeable frown making its way onto his face. "I know you've come a long way, you must be tired but would you mind telling Gerdur what you saw? She's… well, we don't have a leader but she's the closest thing Riverwood has to one."
"Of course, I've been walking for hours, a few more minutes isn't going to kill me." I say gratuitously, making him nod appreciatively.
The trick to getting away with most things, including murder, is to be well liked. People are irrational, and at times they'll ignore blatant evidence of your crimes if they are fond of you. If you're a creepy, unpopular, loner you'll be the first suspect when anything happens, but nobody suspects the popular kids.
So whether you're good, bad or just ordinary, it pays to make friends, especially with the people who matter.
So yes, I'll happily wait around as the guard runs off to wake up Gerdur, trying to remember what I can about her from the game, as unreliable as that knowledge might be.
She's the sister of Ralof, she runs the mill and… that's basically it. She exists to send the DragonBorn to Whiterun if they side with the Stormcloaks. Aside from that she gives you money for chopping logs and that's her entire existence.
Following the guard after he returns, I'm led to a house that's definitely bigger than any of the houses I saw in the game's version of Riverwood, definitely not the single story building she lived in, in the main game.
It's hardly extravagant, but it's definitely an upgrade which makes sense since I vaguely remember that she's a descendant of the family that founded Riverwood.
The guard enters without knocking, and as I follow behind I pause briefly as I spot a young woman, standing in front of a lit fire pit, dressed in a long white sleeping gown as she warms her hands.
I expected a middle aged woman, but I'd say she's in her early twenties at the most, her dirty blonde hair tied in a single braid. Turning to us, she gives the guard a small smile despite the worry on her face.
"Thank you, Hrogel, I'll take it from here." The possible Gerdur says, making the man nod.
"I'll get back to my post then." Hrogel says, and as he goes to pass me I give him a warm smile, pleased at the slight flush to his cheeks.
"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me, I'm Gerdur, I run the lumber mill here, and I'm as close to a leader as this place has, or needs for that matter." Gerdur says, introducing herself as she gestures for me to sit at a small table in front of the fire pit, taking a seat herself.
"It's no problem, I'm happy to help if I can. My name is Raven Nyttya. I'm a traveller from Cyrodiil, though it looks like I chose the wrong time to visit Skyrim." I say making her chuckle darkly.
Raven Nyttya was the name of my ESO character, a Breton Mage, so here's hoping the name generator I used to get a Breton last name was a good one.
"What brought you to Helgen? I can't imagine many people would visit Skyrim while it's caught up in all this trouble." Gerdur inquires, making me chuckle dryly.
"The rumours that reached the Imperial City made the civil war sound like a little skirmish, a few rebellious nords fighting a losing battle. I guess the Empire doesn't want people to know the truth." I lie, making her scoff.
"Typical, half of Skyrim rises up against them and they still can't admit the truth." Gerdur grumbles.
Insulting someone's enemy is always a good way to get into their good graces.
I have no idea what news has reached the Imperial City, but with how big the world seems I can't imagine anyone will be able to contradict me, and better yet even if they do then I can claim that I didn't hear about the war.
This is a world without the Internet, without social media, it could take months, or years for information to spread.
"I came to Skyrim because I wanted to see the lands of my ancestors. My father was a Breton but my mother was a Nord and I grew up listening to her stories of Skyrim. Now that I'm an adult I wanted to see it for myself. I arrived the night before the attack, woke up at the inn just in time to see an execution."
"I'm sorry your first impression of Skyrim has been soured so, it's a beautiful land full of good people, when they aren't trying to kill one another. I need to know… what in god's name happened at Helgen? We heard the sounds of explosions from here, and we saw the smoke but the two men we sent to check on it never came back." Gerdur says, making me focus.
"A dragon happened, and I know how insane that sounds. The Imperials were executing some captured Stormcloaks, including a Jarl Ulfric, but a Dragon interrupted them. It all happened so fast, one minute they had someone on the headsman's block, the next the town was on fire. I think a fireball hit one of the towers and some of the rubble from it went flying, hitting me in the head. I was knocked out cold and when I woke up the city was still burning but nobody else was around. Luckily, I kept a potion of healing on me, and it wasn't crushed so I drank that and ran. I'm not sure how long I was unconscious, and most of my things were in the burning inn, so I just set off down the road until I ended up here." I lie, I'm going to have to bullshit my way through this but that's nothing new.
"A dragon… by Talos, did the Imperials execute Jarl Ulfric?" Gerdur asks, making me shake my head.
"No, they only managed to kill two people before everything went to hell, some man in rags who tried to run and a Stormcloak." I reassure her, making her sigh in relief.
"One last question, the Stormcloak that they killed, did you see his face? He wasn't a bearded blonde man around my age, was he? My brother told me he was going on a mission with Ulfric himself, was he-"
"I don't think so, the Stormcloak had dark brown hair, and I don't think he had a beard." I say hesitantly, pursing my lips together in thought.
"Thank the gods." Gerdur says, letting out a sigh of relief. "You've had a rough time of it, haven't you? I can only hope the rest of your time in Skyrim is more peaceful. For tonight you can take our spare room, get some well needed rest. We can talk more in the morning." she says, standing up slowly as I do the same.
Yeah, that's gonna be a problem.
I can go out in the sunlight, it takes about ten minutes before my skin visibly burns but it's painful the entire time, and I have a theory that the better fed I am the longer I can last in sunlight, but I also don't know how often I have to feed.
Yes, I tested how long I could stand in sunlight, these things are important to know. Yes, it hurt like hell the entire time but a little pain won't deter me.
It's not even the fun kind of pain.
They'll notice if I refuse to leave the house until nightfall, but I can't say no without getting more attention.
"Thank you, I could use the sleep." I agree, making her smile.
"It's the least I can do, please follow me. Help yourself to any of the food and drink lying around, we have plenty to spare." Gerdur says as she leads me up the stairs, making me pause as I spot a large shirtless man standing in one of the door frames. "Go back to bed Hod, I'll be there soon." Gerdur says without even batting an eye as the large Nord hums in agreement, watching us go to another room. "That's my husband, our son is asleep. You can use this room, we normally keep it for Ralof but I'm guessing he's gone to Windhelm with Ulfric, I can only hope at least." Gerdur says slowly, worry clear on her face. "Get some sleep, you've earned it after what you've been through, you might look like a Breton but you definitely have some Nordic blood to get through all that in one piece." Gerdur chuckles, giving me a pat on the shoulder.
"I guess so, I can only hope the rest of my time here is more peaceful." I say with a light giggle, it absolutely won't be.
As she says good night, I lay on the bed and wait.
I'm almost certain I don't need to sleep, even if it seems to help my regeneration, and as I wait I focus and strain my enhanced hearing.
I can hear the soft breathing of her son, and the heavier panting of what I think is a dog.
"I said no, Hod, I need some sleep. There's too much to do tomorrow." Gerdur says, her voice muffled by the two doors between us but still audible enough.
There's a quiet argument, but it tells me something about this family. Gerdur definitely wears the pants, given how quickly Hod folded, interesting.
I can hear him grumbling, but after a few minutes I hear snoring coming from their room, loud heavy snores from Hod and quiet, softer snoring coming from Gerdur.
Not wanting to take any chances, I wait for them both to fall deep into their sleep, and pause as I feel something coming from both of them, and it takes me a moment to realise that I'm sensing their dreams.
Closing my eyes, I reach out and gently touch their minds, my vision blurring as I look around in confusion, before chuckling.
This is Gerdur's dream, or nightmare to be more precise as I look over Riverwood, as it burns to the ground, a massive brown dragon roaring triumphantly as Gerdur desperately flees through the burning city, pulling a barely teenage boy behind her, that must be her son.
I don't even need to twist anything as the dragon calmly flies down and snaps her son up as she screams, so I pull back and leave her to her nightmare.
Hod's dream is far calmer, and just as predictable.
Grunts fill the bedroom as he thrusts into the woman in front of him, on her hands and knees with her legs spread wide.
Though it's not Gerdur, or even me that he's dreaming off, and it takes me a moment to place the young woman, around my age at a guess.
I think she's Camilla, the sister of Lucan and the woman Sven and Faendal are fighting over. She's the only one that makes sense, with black hair and fair skin she doesn't look like a Nord, and she's obviously barely an adult.
Which makes sense because in Skyrim there are only three ages, child, adult and elder. In reality it makes sense that she's barely out of her teens given how overprotective her big brother is of her.
Out of curiosity, I reach out with the magic I feel within myself and start to twist things, making him groan as he hits the floor outside his house, looking around in confusion as Camilla disappears.
"What the…" Hod grumbles, looking around in confusion, before he shakes it off and enters his house, or the dream equivalent at least.
As he does, he pauses as a loud moan echoes through the building, coming from upstairs, making him freeze before he charges upstairs, heading towards his bedroom with a deep scowl on his face.
Pushing the door open, I twist again and freeze him in place, his eyes widening at the sight of Gerdur on her hands and knees, much as Camilla had been moments ago, and just as naked. There is a young man with short black hair and a short trimmed beard thrusting into her from behind, his hand gripping her hair as he pushes her face down against the sheets.
I've never actually seen Lucan in person, but it looks like his mind filled in the gaps, and as Hod is chained to the wall, the rutting pair don't even acknowledge his existence.
"Harder, you know I don't get my needs met by that limp dicked drunk." Gerdur moans as I chuckle, slipping out of the dream.
Is it useful? Perhaps. Is it fun? Absolutely.
I'm sure I can find a way to weaponise it, perhaps I could turn my enemies against each other by furlong dreams of betrayal and treachery, but for now I don't even have any enemies.
I consider slipping out and checking the village out, but after a moment shrug. I don't want to attract any unwanted attention, I fed on one of the dead bandits before leaving (the blood was fairly unpleasant but it did the job all the same) and I have no real reason to wander beyond idle curiosity.
Stripping down, I get under the covers and close my eyes, slipping into a very light sleep. With senses as strong as mine are, it's hard to fall into a deep sleep, as every sound wakes me back up.
Which means I'm quickly woken up when the sun rises, thankful that this room has curtains. Unsurprisingly, Nords seem to rise with the sun as the sound of movement immediately picks up outside, the village coming alive as people wake up and getting to work.
I can hear the mill already in action, the loud sawing sound making sure I don't get any rest, but I pretend to be asleep anyway as I hear talking downstairs.
"What about the girl?" Hod asks, making my ears perk up.
"Let her sleep in, she's been through a lot. I need to talk to Alvor anyway, I'll talk to her when she wakes up." Gerdur replies, making him grunt in agreement.
I hear the door opening and then closing shortly afterwards, and with no intention of moving I waste as much sunlight as possible by just laying around and relaxing.
After what seems like an hour or two, I hear the bedroom door open, heavy footsteps taking a couple of steps into the room as I continue pretending to be asleep.
After a moment, Hod approaches me and gently shakes me, making me finally stop pretending to be asleep, blinking cutely as I turn over and look up at him.
"Mhmm, wha-" I mumble groggily, making him chuckle as I brush my hair out of my eyes.
"Sorry lass. I'm making some food, and since you slept through breakfast I figured you'd be hungry. It'll be ready in a few minutes, and I'll bring it up to you. Just wanted to make sure you were among the living." Hod chuckles as I sit up, the sheet slipping down below my chest, his eyes immediately dropping down to my perfectly pert tits as his eyes widen in shock at my nudity.
He doesn't say anything though, watching as I stretch lazily, turning to him with a small smile.
"That'd be great, thank you… Hod was it?" I ask, gripping the sheet and covering myself again as he gulps slightly.
Gerdur is actually pretty cute, but she was rather… slim, in a lot of places. I'm not surprised he's so easily distracted by a body like mine.
"Wha- Oh, yeah, it's Hod." Hod agrees, quickly looking back up at my face, before he notices the dress I was wearing on a chair over to the side.
"Oh, it was rather filthy and I didn't want to sleep in it, or make a mess of the bed. The rest of my clothes were in the Inn, so I had to leave them behind." I admit sheepishly, letting a small blush rise on my face.
"Sigrid could probably fix it, she's good at sewing and stuff like that, but she's been pretty distracted lately. Gerdur probably has some clothes you can take, not sure you'd fit in them though…" Hod trails off, before shaking his head. "If not we can get you some from the Riverwood Trader."
"Mhmm, I can worry about that later, I survived and that's the important part. Clothes can be replaced." I say calmly, making him nod before his eyes widen.
"Shit, the food… I'll be back soon." Hod says as he heads downstairs quickly, the smell of burning blatant to my senses.
True to his word he returns shortly with a plate full of food, it's basic fare, sausages, cheese and bread, but it's not like I was expecting a five star meal, and his eyes immediately flicker back towards where my dress is still sitting as he brings it over.
Placing it on the small table, I calmly get out of the bed, immediately drawing his eyes as I turn and make the bed, bending over slightly as my ass sticks out towards him.
Teasing is second nature to me, it's just too much fun not to, besides men have always been easily led by their manhoods. And that was before I gained the succubus power to manipulate people who are attracted to me.
Turning around, I give him a knowing smile as his gaze quickly rises, a clear tent in his trousers as I strut towards him.
"Thank you, Hod." I say gratuitously, placing a small kiss on his cheek as my body presses against his briefly. "Now, about those clothes…" I trail off, watching him blink in confusion. "I don't mind being naked, but I'm not sure Gerdur would like me giving you such a show." I remind him as he nods with a frown.
"Uhh, yeah… give me a minute and I'll get you something." Hod says reluctantly as I take a seat and start eating.
He can't help himself from looking over his shoulder as he leaves, his gaze fixated on my breasts, but I just give him another knowing smile.
Charm is more effective the more attracted to me the target is, and I could probably get Hod to leave his family behind to be my personal bodyguard with a little persuasion.
Besides, I'm an exhibitionist anyway. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and my body is practically a weapon, it's certainly a tool and an incredibly useful one at that.
Hod is fairly attractive, there's something to be said for big, dumb muscled men, and if he shaved his dumb moustache I'd even go as far as to call him handsome.
The sausages are a little burnt, but they're still good and the meat is obviously very fresh, a benefit of medieval life I suppose.All in all it's an enjoyable meal, the bread is soft and the cheese is delicious.
I could get used to this. I suppose I have to since I doubt Tamriel has pizza or Indian takeaways. Maybe the Khajiit know how to make curry?
Hell, I'm probably immortal, I can work it out myself.
Hod returns as I'm finishing up, carrying a plain grey dress as he enters the room, trying his very best to maintain eye contact as I turn to him.
"This is an older one, since Gerdur's a bit taller than you. Not sure you'll fit in it though." Hod says, his gaze briefly flickering to my substantial chest as I smile and stand up.
Gerdur is taller, but I'm bigger where it counts.
"Thank you, Hod, it's nice to see the tales of Nordic hospitality weren't exaggerated." I say as I take it from his hands.
"Hmm, I'm surprised you heard any tales like that, don't the fancy folks down at the Imperial city think we're all savages." Hod grumbles, his vision blocked as I hold the dress in front of myself.
"I'm sure a lot of them do, but my mother told me a lot about her homeland." I explain, slowly dressing as he watches.
"Hm." he grunts, clearly disappointed even as he watches me struggle with the top of the dress a bit, it was clearly made for someone with a flatter chest than mine. "Skyrim's a harsh place, us Nords have to take care of our own, even if you're only a half Nord."
I don't have massive breasts, but they are easily d-cup, and Gerdur looks like she's barely a b-cup.
The dress does fit, but it's also very tight and form fitting. It's not meant to be but I just fill it out a lot better than Gerdur ever did.
"That's good to know, you and Gerdur have been kind to me in my time of need, and I am in your debt." I say with a small courtesy, giving him a warm smile as he grumbles something about me talking too fancy.
"What are you planning for today? Gerdur wants to talk to you later but she has work to take care of, she'll be back by sundown." Hod asks, making me shrug.
"I honestly don't know, I'll hang around the house and wait for Gerdur if it's alright, I could walk around the village but frankly I think I've done enough walking recently, my legs need the rest." I joke, making him nod slowly.
"Yeah, make yourself at home, food is kept in the cellar if you get hungry. I have to get to the mill as well, got work to be done." Hod says as I give him a small smile.
The people here are certainly trusting and friendly if you get into their good graces, letting a virtual stranger stay in their home alone.
As he leaves, I decide to wander around a little, I can hear that nobody is in the house after all, so I can nosy around without care.
First of all, searching Gerdur and Hod's room, I realise that I haven't a single bra so far, and while Gerdur has some granny panties that I wouldn't be caught wearing, the fact that she has so few pairs means she probably goes commando more often than not.
Secondly, Gerdur has a boring house and there isn't a single interesting thing, no matter how many I search. I don't know what I expected, but even her letters are boring.
One from Alvor about the price of a new saw for the mill, a couple from Whiterun about buying vegetables from one of the farms to help them get through the winter.
Putting everything back where I found it, I spend the day practicing my control of mage hand. It's a little unwieldy to be honest and I want to make controlling it second nature.
Unfortunately, as the day moves on I slowly feel the hunger returning, not enough to truly make me worry but it's definitely there, a tingle in the back of my throat.
Gerdur finally returns just as the sun is setting, I hear her coming long before she opens the door and finds me sitting at the downstairs table reading one of the books she had lying around.
Olaf and the Dragon, it's an interesting enough story I suppose.
"Raven, you're still here? Good, I was hoping you'd still be here." Gerdur says as she enters, clearly tired as she moves over to the table, grabbing a bottle of ale and pouring it into two mugs and placing one of them in front of me.
"Yes, Hod mentioned that, and frankly I have no idea what to do with myself anyway. I still intend to explore my ancestral homeland, but losing my belongings is… problematic." I deadpan, making her nod.
"I can imagine, I'm sorry this happened to you… and I definitely think we need to talk to Sigrid tomorrow, my dress looks like it's bursting at the seams." Gerdur said as she glanced down at my chest, making me giggle. "I could have sworn I had a bigger one, I swear if Hod picked the tightest one so he could stare I'll kill him. Ignore anything he says, he's always been a flirt." Gerdur warns, making me giggle again.
"It's fine, men staring at me is hardly a new thing. I'm used to it." I reassure her, making her laugh dryly as she takes a drink.
"That doesn't surprise me, people say Bretons have the best traits of men and elves, and I can see what they mean." Gerdur compliments me, making me smile sweetly. "But that doesn't mean you should have to wear uncomfortable clothes, and Sigrid would appreciate the distraction anyway."
"Oh?" I ask, making Gerdur grimace.
"Her daughter, Dorthe, has gone missing. She went outside the walls to play in the forest despite being told not to, someone heard her scream and she hasn't been seen since." Gerdur explains.
"And you don't know what happened?" I ask, making Gerdur shrug helplessly.
"No, Faendal followed the tracks into the hills, but he was attacked by goblins and had to flee. He's a hunter, not an adventurer, he can take out wolves and maybe a lone bandit but he's no warrior." Gerdur says.
"And nobody else has gone looking for her?" I ask, making Gerdur sigh. Goblins? In Skyrim?
"No, and that's part of what I need to talk to you about. We can't go looking for her, we don't have any real guards, just a volunteer militia that has barely ten members, two of which disappeared when we sent them to check on Helgen. There are dozens of caves along the mountainside and in the hills, and where there's one goblin there's a dozen more. We don't even know if the Goblins took her, there are bandits, wolves, bears and sabre cats in the area around the village. Maybe a frostbite spider left it's cave, maybe the rumours of hags were true and she's been taken by one of them, the fact is we don't even know what's hiding in the caves, and even if we did know what was in them, something new could have moved in. The forests aren't safe, and the sad truth is Dorthe's either already dead or wishing she was. It comes with living outside one of the cities, Skyrim is a harsh place."
"So what does that have to do with me?" I ask, making Gerdur sigh as she pulls out a letter.
"Riverwood has kept its freedom for years, we are in Whiterun hold but we aren't part of Whiterun, it's been a point of pride and I want you to deliver the letter that changes that. Skyrim is getting more dangerous with every passing year, and Riverwood needs Whiterun's protection. Helgen had a better wall, watchtowers and an Imperial garrison and it's a smouldering ruin. We can't let pride get us all killed, and as a survivor of Helgen I'm hoping you'll be able to convince Jarl Balgruuf of the danger." Gerdur explains as I blink, isn't that the Dragonborn's job?
Where is the lazy fucker, I'm getting stuck with their quests.
"How long is the journey to Whiterun?" I ask, I've already said I plan to explore Skyrim and my own plan has me heading that way anyway.
"On foot? Three, four days. Five if you take your time. It's why I can't afford to send one of the militia, and I wouldn't trust any of the people I can spare. I won't lie, the road isn't as safe as it used to be, but I have a feeling you know how to take care of yourself." Gerdur says knowingly, making me nod. I was wearing my dagger openly when I arrived. "You don't seem naive or foolish, which means you think you can keep yourself safe in your travels. Plus, I might not know a lot about magic but I recognise a spellbook when I see one, Bretons are known for their magical talents."
"I thought Nords didn't like magic?" I ask, making Gerdur scoff.
"Nord's don't trust magic, but I'm not in a position to turn my nose up at any possible help." Gerdur says plainly, making me nod in acknowledgement.
"I was planning on heading towards Whiterun next, it's central and I could decide where to go from there. I was hoping to try my hand at Adventuring, and while delivering a message is a bit more mundane than I imagined, it works all the same." I agree, besides this is a chance to make a name for myself and gain the favour of a Jarl.
"If you can get Jarl Balgruuf to send aid to Riverwood, I'll be in our debt, and you'll always be welcome here." Gerdur swears, making me smile. "And if you truly want to try your hand at adventuring, check the notice board outside the Sleeping Giant inn, we keep it up because adventurers often pass through here going from Falkreath to Whiterun. I know Alvor and Sigrid put a bounty out on the goblins, and offered a separate reward for information on their daughter's fate, and an even bigger one for her return." Gerdur suggests, making me pause, do I wanna do side quests? Kinda, yeah. "We've lasted this long without help, a few days more won't kill us, so you don't need to rush out unprepared, but please make sure you can handle it before heading out, the last thing we need is for you to get killed." Gerdur says, making me nod.
"Don't worry, I didn't survive a dragon to get killed by some goblins." I promise, well I didn't survive a dragon at all, unless a dragon dildo counts.
"I can only pray to the gods that you're right. If you're going to take the bounty, go to Alvor and get some armour, I doubt he'll even charge you for it. We had to stop him from going out himself, he's our only blacksmith after all. Maybe talk to Faendal as well, he knows the area well, he might be able to point you in the right direction." Gerdur advises me, making me smile.
Gerdur does seem like someone that'll be useful to have in my debt, the fact that Riverwood is mostly independent only makes that more true since she's the de facto leader.
I could have sworn Riverwood was part of Whiterun, since I remember Balgruuf calling them 'his people' but clearly my knowledge is far from reliable.
"I'm going to look around Riverwood tomorrow, so I'll talk to them all then. I'll probably set out for Whiterun in the next couple of days, but I want to make preparations anyway." I say, making Gerdur smile as she takes another drink.
"Then you have my thanks, and the gratitude of Riverwood. Take what you want from here, within reason." Gerdur offered, standing. "But now it's time for me to get some sleep, today was a long day, tomorrow will probably be longer."
"Sleep well, I'm just going to finish this book and turn in myself. Sometimes you just need a long day of doing absolutely nothing." I say calmly, making her laugh.
"Perhaps one day I'll get to have one of those myself, but for now I've got too many people relying on me. Good night, Raven." Gerdur says as she heads upstairs.
Finishing my book, the nerdy part of me celebrates how much longer it was than the in-game version, the degenerate part of me just wants to find a copy of 'The Real Barenziah, Book II'
Heading upstairs, I strip off again and breathe a sigh of relief as my girls are freed from their cloth prison, getting into bed as I bide my time.
I need to feed, after all.
Hearing Gerdur turn down an obviously horny Hod for a second night in a row makes me giggle to myself, he must be getting so pent up, and men don't think straight when their smaller head is doing the thinking for them.
Bonus Scene - Akatosh
The fate of Tamriel had been decided long before man had taken their first steps on its fertile land, it was a fate even he saw as unavoidable.
Then someone who never appeared in the timeline, who the scrolls never mentioned, casually showed up in the middle of nowhere and ate his chosen one.
The part of him that was once Martin Septim groaned as he realised how much work fixing all this was going to be, and in his annoyance he took advice from someone he trusted with his immortal life, but wouldn't trust to watch his food.
The Hero of Kvatch, Savior of Tamriel, The Grand Champion, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Guildmaster of the Fighters Guild, Arch Mage of the Mages Guild, the Divine Crusader of the Knights of the Nine, the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild…
Oh, and the Daedric Prince of Madness, among many other things.
She alway was an overachiever.
And in her special brand of genius and madness, she came up with a scheme, the anomaly had eaten his Last DragonBorn, but she was no ordinary Vampire and she had drained his very soul.
So he could use that soul to force her into the position of Alduin's rival. The anomaly would be his agent of fate, whether she wanted to be or not.
It was an utterly mad plan, but what could you expect from that lunatic? Still, it was just mad enough that it just might work.
If it didn't? Well, Tamriel was fucked, because he couldn't make a new DragonBorn, and without one Alduin would feast well indeed.
The fate of Tamriel now rested on the shoulders of a mad vampiress, but then that was nothing new. Perhaps that's why Sheogorath thought this would be so funny, it certainly made him nostalgic.
It worked during the Oblivion Crisis, and he had no better plan anyway.