*Following is the prologue to an NSFW themed story series set in the Elder Scrolls Universe after the events of Skyrim. It WILL contain themes some may not be comfortable with such as slavery/nonconsent. Although this piece itself has no explicit content.*
I’d put a link to my story site but dont wish to get banned srry :(
Feedback is always welcome so enjoy!
Prologue
*It is the dawn of the fourth era, and Tamriel is at the crossroads.*
*Succeeding in his rebellion from the Empire. The rebel leader Ulfric Stormcloak’s triumph is short lived. He is felled by an assassin’s blade as he prepares to receive the jagged crown and become Skyrim’s new High King. The province is left in turmoil as a power struggle rages between Galmar Stonefist and the beloved Jarl of Solitude, Elisef.*
*In the skies above the province, the slaying of Alduin by the Dragonborn has done little to quell the sky serpents desire for power, and all across Skyrim and the neighboring provinces, the skies fill with fire and thunder as the great beasts vie for supremacy with each other.*
*But it is the night that now brings the greatest terrors to the province. In the wake of the mysterious upheaval at an all but forgotten castle ruin in the northwest of Skyrim, a vile and perverted cult of vampires and servants of the Daedric Lord Sanguine, the Gilded Circle. Form an unholy pact to unleash their debauched appetites onto the province’s unknowing inhabitants.*
*….and in a remote tribal village in the Falkreath mountains, a raid is taking place!*
“Ingrid! Freywin!! Come to me! Hurry!”
Bjorn shouts out two his two daughters as the carnage erupts around him. Amidst the clashing of blades and the screams of fallen warriors, she hears his voice.
Freywin twirls around, seeking the source as her blade slices through the wretched winged creature that had attempted to rush at her. It lets out a howl of pain as its body dissolves into ash at her feet.
She looks around rapidly, flame-red hair bouncing across her shoulders as she searches for the source of her father’s voice.
Instead, her eyes lay onto her twin sister, Ingrid.
She was in the middle of fighting one of the horned male Daedra. Skillfully blocking its blows with the two-handed sword her father gifted her on her nineteenth summer. She was too focused on the fight to see the other winged gargoyle flying towards her position.
Freywin does not even pause to think. She begins to plow forward. Her legs pumping as fast as she can.
“Ingrid! Look Out!”
She continues forward past two of her kinsman rushing a scantily clad female creature. It suddenly lets out a bellowing, high pitched screech, the two warriors, a man, and a woman, explode into a cloud of scarlet mist as Freywin dodges to her side, avoiding the most of the shockwave.
She continues running towards her sister, the jeweled creature closing in. A young blonde woman in an innkeepers wench outfit, Helgi, that was her name, runs past, nearly colliding with her.
The Bar Wench looks backward, and this brief warning saves Freywin from the incoming hit. She ducks as a bolt of magical lightning smashes into the blonde woman’s back. She shudders and collapses.
She risks a brief look back to the scene. One of the black leather-clad females towers over the Nord woman, licking her scarlet lips as she stares down wide-eyed. One of the short-horned daedra appears and grabs the tavern wench off the ground. He suddenly disappears with her as a strange ethereal sphere engulfs them both.
Freywin looks back towards her sister. Her long blade just sliding out of the horned creature. The gargoyle seizes both her shoulders as she reaches them both, as it takes off Freywin jumps forward and grabs both of her sister’s ankles, holding on tight as the creature screeches and pulls harder against the weight.
“Inni! Your dagger!”
Her sister looks down at her face, a slight smile as she understands. Clutching the small hunting daggers hilt at her waist. She draws it and with a flick of her wrist throws it directly at the Gargoyles abdomen above her.
The blade buries deep, a scream emanates from the things decorated throat as its body starts to disintegrate into ash.
Both sisters fall back to the ground. Freywin holds her twin sister’s waist as they collapse to the dry earth, she looks at Ingrid’s face.
“Father?!” Her head rapidly turns around, the battle still raging around them both, “where is he?!”
The two Nord women did not have to wait long. Bjorn’s voice bellows out to them as they turn towards his location.
He is running forwards, shouting out as he swings a large mace to keep the gargoyle creatures at bay, when he suddenly stops, a cold stare clouding his features.
He slowly looks down at the menacing glowing blade that has pushed through his stomach from behind him. He falls to his knees as a daedric warrior, grinning, pulls his weapon out fast.
Raising the glowing blade over its head, it prepares the killing strike.
“Father!! Noo!!”
Ingrid can only stand motionless, wide-eyed as the creature from the depths of Oblivion slices their father’s head clean from his shoulders. The force of the blow knocks it far and it hits the wall of one of the many burning abodes now smoldering in the village.
As her sister rushes forward at the creature, rage in her eyes, Ingrid, still shell shocked,gazes around the devastation, a strange detached calm overcoming her.
The attackers were slaughtering many, but they were stunning and capturing some, all women. The female raiders, what looked like some kind of vampires, were using shock spells to incapacitate their targets before the daedric warriors swooped in and picked them up. She watched as two more shieldmaidens disappeared in an eerie flash of magic.
Ingrid snaps back to reality as she hears her sister cry out, a crack of a lightning spell smashing into her full force. She attempts to run forward to her aid, but a shrill vibrating scream knocks her backward.
She looks up as the vampire saunters forward to Freywin, lying on her back the creature grins as she caresses one of her own breasts.
“That one belongs to the circle, retrieve her, I’ll claim the other!”
Two seemingly human men rush forward, laughing as they pick her up from the ground. Ingrid feels a strange pressure building deep within her as the vampire turns to face her.
“I can see the raw power in you both! A passion and beauty that only a divine touch could bestow.” The creature begins to summon a pool of Magicka, preparing to cast another lightning strike at Ingrid.
“You will both sate me and my sisters for a long long time, we will…!”
The words die in the vampire’s throat, a look of surprise on its face.
An immense glow erupts from Ingrid’s body as she roars out. Leaping into the air. The vampire shields her eyes, her ears sting at the wondrous melody that seems to subtly play around them as the Nord woman crashes down onto the ground.
The force of the impact knocks the creature back. It does an elaborate backflip as it dodges Ingrid’s blade, striking the ground hard in front of her. Above their heads, two gargoyles burst into flames, glowing ash falling slowly to the ground around them both as the Nord woman prepares a second strike.
The vampire smiles, her eyes wide, a rush of emotion floods through it as it raises its left hand up, preparing to unleash the shock spell.
The arrow zips past Ingrid’s face. Smashing into the vampires shoulder. It screams out in agony as the wound seems to burn a searing yellow. Two more arrows hit an approaching daedric warrior, causing it to fall backwards, phasing out of physical existence as it hits the ground.
A figure lands to the left of Ingrid suddenly, bow drawn and ready. She was wearing a bright orange hooded shroud. Decorated with symbols of the goddess. of beauty.
A sister of Dibella stood before the vampire. Staring the creature down as Ingrid got to her feet.
The creature waved back to her two subordinates. “Take the other! Now!” a thunderous look of rage on the vampires face, “back to the grove! We have more than enough!”
The two males, still clutching Freywin, lift her up as a teleport spell shimmers around them. Ingrid attempts to rush forward, but the sister holds her back.
“No! Don’t! The spell’s outer radial will kill you if you step within it!”
The Nord woman and her two captors disappear as the spell’s spherical field expands around them. The vampire, still facing them, smiles.
“Freywin!!”
“Don’t worry my dear.” The creature replies lewdly to her. “ Me and my sisters will take very good care of her lovely body!” The black haired succubus licks her lips as she prepares her own teleport spell.
The Dibellan sister eases herself as the creature disappears in front of them. Looking around her, she sees the remains of the burning village, the bodies of its inhabitants now scattered across the central elders circle.
Ingrid collapses to her knees, tears streaming down her face. The remnants of the power that surged through her was still fading away.
The sister walks over to the decapitated body of Bjorn. Standing over it, she silently offers a prayer to his spirit.
Ingrid looks up, a flush of anger on her face. “Your prayers are not going to do anything priestess!” She rises to her feet. “My father is dead! My sister taken by those things! What good are your words now!”
The priestess turns back towards her slowly, a sad expression on her face. She lets out a deep breath.
“You are right.” speaking softly, “Prayers can never bring back the dead, and only the living can rescue those in need. But even in the midst of darkness, a prayer will always be a beacon of light.”
Ingrid turns away from the woman. She looks up to the sky, sword still in hand. What does she do now?!
She shouts out to the empty air, “Where have you taken my sister?! Freywin! Answer me!”
The only response is the whistling of the cold wind. The crackle of flames from the burning village.
The priestess moves to her side.
“It was no coincidence that they attacked this place. Like me, they sensed the power of the divine within both of you.I should have got here sooner, I am sorry that I did not.”
“What do you mean?!” Ingrid turned to the sister. “What happened to me back there?! That burning light?!”
The priestess smiled as she spoke. “I think you know in your heart already Ingrid Stormborn. You have both felt our lady Dibella’s grace from birth, you both blossomed into beautiful young women, identical in almost every way. The jewel of your village, always standing out…special!”
She looked at the sister, her warm smile soothing.
“You know my name?!”
“Of course! I am a sister to an Aedric goddess afterall. Our lady grants us visions, whispers in our dreams, shows us things we need to know, as she does with you.”
Ingrid steps back slightly. “Why us?! Why can’t we have just been like everyone else?!”
The priestess breathes in, looking around her. “Because everyone *is* special in their own way. You and your sister? Just a little more so. You do not have to heed the dreams if you don’t wish, we could head over to Falkreath hold, and you can live a humble life, recover from this tragedy, if that is what you want. There is always a choice.
Ingrid knew that was a lie. Especially now, while Freywin was in those things hands.
“They took her, but also others, only women! Please! Not for ‘that!”
She was speaking to herself more than to the priestess, but she replied nonetheless.
“Do not think about it! It will plague your mind. Drive you mad. Come with me?! There is someone I know at the temple in Markarth. Someone who out of anyone might be able to help you.”
The priestess looked down at the body of Bjorn, the sadness in her eyes coming back. She knelt down, gently grasping both his hands, placing one of them onto the hilt of his weapon.
“But first, you need closure. Come. Your father dines in Sovngarde now! Let’s give him a burial worthy of a Nord!”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/iugsq9/the_elder_scrolls_chronicles_prologue_the