Categories > Games > Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion


by Slren 0 reviews

What If TALOS was the MAIN VILLAIN of Skyrim? What if the Dovahkiin was going insane? A boy with nothing to live for finds hope when he meets a Divine goddess while learning the Empire's Greatest H...

Category: Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion - Rating: R - Genres: Angst,Fantasy,Romance - Warnings: [!] [V] [X] [R] [?] [Y] - Published: 2021-11-19 - 1180 words

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Suicidal Neurosis

Quest 1: Prologue

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim '10th Anniversary Edition'

~ § ó § ò § ~

In A Time Before Time

Lorkhan lifted her against the limestone mottling of the giant bath. Water flowed and rose around them in perfumed scents. Crystalline with pristine silver-tapped faucets cascading foggy steam, clouding the circumference. Dibella tightened her legs around him as he entered her. She stretched her arm over his head, clutching his scalp, digging her fingernails into his short strands of hair.

Lorkhan slid an arm around her back aggressively and pressed into her. She cupped his neck, drawing a finger over the larynx. His chest pushed into hers as he deepened the expression, his facial hair chafing her chin.

"We're going to be late." Dibella shoved him off her. "If your wife, miss mother nature catches wind, you can say bye to this decent weather."

Lorkhan growled, grabbing a cloth-towel, but knew Dibella was right. Water dripped off his legs and arms like raindrops onto the painted flooring. — The bedroom was glowing with a pink haze that radiated from the rising sun outside the window. A hole in the sky that Magnus, god of magic and Dibella's former husband had left when he escaped Mundus, the mortal plane of existence. Their bed rested on a circular platform near some gold-encrusted shelves and a violin. - Rosy blush crept onto Dibella's cheeks when she noticed their clothes and the various bottles of aromatic oil scattered on the rug.

"The door was locked." The ends of his lips twitched upward. "Besides, who gives a shit. Not like anyone can do anything about us; I'm the most powerful god here."

"Your wife, man," Dibella's tone held a hint of ire. "You really out to piss her off that bad?"

"Shut your mouth, whore." Lorkhan roped his armor on, fastening a buckle over his waste. "You aren't meant to think, only serve."

"That's rich." She scratched the back of her head with her ring finger. She snapped the digits and was instantly clothed in a white dress.

"I said shut up whore!" Lorkhan yelled, eyes flashing red. He slapped her hard across the cheek, knocking her to the floor.

After he had his way with her once more, forcing her to redress, they departed. Sunlight-night polished through the halls of Idavoll, Lorkhan's divine palace on Nirn. Dibella, gaze cast to the ground, roved dejectedly behind him. Lorkhan's citadel in Skyrim or Mereth, the cold domain, held golden walls with high ceilings, hanging crystal chandeliers, red-velvet rugs draped on sandstone corridors alongside animate portraits, flower-filled vases among other decorations on the alcoves to the sides. The central dining chamber kept a large white table in the center with thrones lining the length on each wing. Light seamed in from the cosmos outside and a fine assortment of foods rested on the countertop. Soups and soufflés, baked bread and eggs.

Dibella and Lorkhan sat down along with the others present. Kynareth, Lorkhan's wife eyed him with a small frown from diagonally across the surface. Tsun Zenithar and Stendarr Stuhn, twin shield-thanes of Lorkhan were there as well with their mortal bedwarmers.

He cut into his eggs when Tsun spoke, "has Akatosh made any effort to break through the borders? Him and his army of elves have been relentless, but we've deterred them so far. Although, the Heartlands have suffered the most because of it."

A shadow grew from the corner of his cornea.

"No, that self-righteous elf sympathizer won't get in," Lorkhan assured him. "If only that bitch-wife of his, Mara hadn't escaped our prisons. She had quite the pair of breasts." He smirked, feeling a rush of blood surge towards his loins.

"This all started because you just had to rape her. Akatosh would've left you alone otherwise." Dibella took a long sip of red wine, emptying the glass.

"I'll deal with you later." Lorkhan clenched his jaw.

Tsun glanced upwards momentarily, ogling Dibella with an odd watery softness in his eye while Stendarr inspected his beard for any pieces of meat that might've tried to escape his mouth. "I suppose you're right, milord," conceded Tsun.

"I am always." Lorkhan downed a pint of ale, belching afterwards. He smashed it on the ground. "Another!"

"I gotta tell ya, you're an even bigger prick here than where I'm from," a vocalization electrified. Lorkhan glanced around but he couldn't find the source. The voice had sounded unreal, like it was projected through a filter of some sort.

What? He stroked his short-goatee but didn't say anything.

"Did you hear that?" Dibella asked.

"Talos," the same unfamiliar inflection taunted hauntingly. This time everyone's heads swiveled towards the gaunt stranger sitting beside her like a spider. The uninvited wraith arrogantly sat in the middle-throne, the biggest one, usually reserved for himself. Though Lorkhan preferred to not eat in it, as to not spill anything edible on it. Last thing he wanted was to drag the elven slaves from their pen to clean it.

"Who are you!?" Lorkhan rocketed from his seat, fingers curling into a ball.

"Just another mistake of yours, Talos." The hooded man crunched his neck, an audible crack resounding off him.

"Who in blazes is Talos?" Lorkhan raised a brow. "I am Lorkhan, god of men and this world."

The man or entity, whatever it was, removed its hood, showcasing an odd mask. The facial-covering bore two tusks protruding beneath where the mouth-line was placed. A bronzed-gold with eye-holes as well.

"It's good you're also mute in the future because your voice is annoying. Did you think you could rape, kill, and do whatever you wanted without repercussion?" The weird man replied calmly. "Do you like my mask by the way? It's called Konahrik; after me, now that I think about it."

"Did he say future?" Tsun's frons quilted into a temporary unibrow.

"Just what's this all about?" Lorkhan rammed his fist against the tabletop. His hand coiled like a snake around the fork on his plate.

"I'm going to kill you now." Konahrik began to glow, electrical surges crackled over his icy armor-plating.

A gasp sounded around the hall, several servants and lesser spirits dropped whatever they were holding. Lorkhan's heart stopped as the blinding white light enveloped his vision and the chamber combusted.

Rubble exploding everywhere, Lorkhan was cast back what felt like hundreds of feet, crashing into a ditch. He wiped the mud and ash from his mouth-beard, gazing up the pond full of stalks of wispy reeds and sugarcane. No. Idavoll was blown to smithereens, in its place a gargantuan ebony and purple, blood-stained Dragon elongated its spine towards the heavens, shrieking like a banshee. Its victory laugh felt like someone was rubbing a cheese grater over his spinal column. Broods of servants were swallowed when its head came down and dragged over the floor, as if it were a snake struggling to digest a fat rat. The image made Lorkhan's stomach churn, puce traveling up to his throat as the overgrown lizard choked down its meal.
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