If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!
Also everyone I have a new novel named "From Couch To The Inquisitor", be sure to check it out and I also could say that my Fallout 4 novel have ended (in the P-Tang12))
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Initially, he had assumed the city's deep seated corruption would make it strategically weak, ripe for collapse. But the situation was vastly more complicated. The corruption was almost entirely internal economic problem. Militarily, the hold was a fortress. It was heavily protected by treacherous mountain terrain, massive local manpower, vast supply reserves, and close proximity to Windhelm's reinforcements. Furthermore, Riften possessed a wealthy, self sustaining economic base fully capable of supporting prolonged resistance if cut off from the rest of the province.
The Empire would face quite the bloodbath trying to simply march into the Rift and take control.
The realization surprised him, but it made perfect logistical sense.
However, there was a hard limit to Maven's influence. Aerion understood that if Maven could completely control Laila, she would have already forced the hold to officially surrender to the Empire to protect her trade routes. The fact that Laila still openly supported Ulfric meant Maven's power had some boundaries.
That specific distinction would be incredibly important for Aerion's future political calculations in Solitude.
With the intelligence gathered, Aerion decided his business in Riften was officially complete.
He found his group in the main tavern and informed them they were leaving.
The apprentices looked somewhat disappointed. Despite the corruption, Riften was vibrant and warm compared to the frozen north, and their time here was ending too quickly. Lydia, Jenassa, and Eisa, however, were visibly relieved to be returning to the open road, tired of watching their coin purses every time someone brushed past them.
They returned the heavy iron keys to Kehala-Rei, settled their tabs, and stepped out into the bustling morning market to leave the city.
As they walked toward the gates, they encountered Mjoll and Aerin standing near a blacksmith's forge.
Aerion stopped his group with a raised hand and approached the Lioness alone. It was time to make his move.
"Mjoll," Aerion greeted her calmly, holding her gaze. "We are leaving Riften. But before I depart, I wish to make you an offer."
Mjoll looked surprised, crossing her arms. "An offer? I told you, I'm not a mercenary looking for coin."
"I am not offering you a mercenary contract," Aerion clarified smoothly. "I am building something vastly larger than the corrupt and criminal affairs of Riften. I have work that could genuinely materially contribute to ending this civil war, and changing the very conditions that allow the corruption in this city to thrive."
Aerin immediately stepped forward, his face tight with caution. "Mjoll, be careful—"
Aerion held up a hand, completely non threatening. "I am not pressuring you. I demand nothing today. You can come with us right now. Or, you can remain here and think about it. If you decide that you wish to fight the disease rather than the symptoms... you can travel to Whiterun. Find the Tundra Homestead just outside the city walls. Tell them Aerion sent you."
He provided just enough detail to spark her fierce sense of justice, without revealing the vast, terrifying scope of his actual plans.
Mjoll stared at him, genuinely taken aback by the sheer weight of the offer. She had expected a request to kill a bandit chief or recover a stolen heirloom. She hadn't expected an invitation to change the fate of the province.
She did not give him an instant answer.
"I... I need time to think about this, Aerion," Mjoll admitted softly, the gears turning rapidly in her mind.
"Take all the time you require," Aerion accepted without a hint of argument, offering a polite bow. "The choice is entirely yours. Safe travels, Lioness."
He turned and walked away, rejoining his group. They passed through the gates, collected their horses from Hofgrir at the stables, and began the ride away from the corrupt capital.
Rather than turning immediately northwest toward the plains of Whiterun, Aerion pulled Revan's reins, guiding the column along the winding, southern road leading deeper into the Rift.
"We are making a stop before we return home," Aerion announced to the group, pointing toward the distant, misty islands in the center of Lake Geir. "Our route takes us past an ancient Nord crypt, and I intend to investigate it."
The three apprentices instantly recognized the pattern.
They looked at one another, exchanging glances that were an equal mixture of nervous resignation and sudden, bright excitement. They knew exactly what it meant when Expert Aerion said he wanted to "investigate" a crypt. It never meant simply walking inside, taking notes, and leaving. It meant blood, fire, and absolute clearing.
"Expert Aerion," J'zargo asked, a grin slowly spreading across his feline face. "Will this be another practical training trip?"
"It will," Aerion confirmed with a firm nod.
The three apprentices visibly brightened at the answer. Despite how terrifying and dangerous Frostmere Crypt had been, they had begun to genuinely, deeply enjoy the practical lessons. The theoretical lectures of the Arcaneum felt hollow compared to the visceral thrill of real combat. They knew that every ruin provided them with something entirely new to learn about their own capabilities.
The group spurred their horses, riding toward Lake Geir.
As the dense autumnal forests of the Rift slowly gave way to the misty, rocky shores of the lake, Aerion allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection.
His mission had accomplished vastly more than he had ever anticipated.
He had investigated the starving collapse of Winterhold. He had mapped Dawnstar's military and economic burdens. He had uncovered the explosive internal racial instability waiting to detonate inside Windhelm. And he had untangled the incredibly complicated, corrupt balance of power between Maven, Laila, and Ulfric in Riften.
He had forged three promising apprentices into a capable mage in battle, secured a fiercely loyal new retainer in Eisa, and planted the seed of recruitment with the Lioness. His invisible intelligence network was actively spreading across the province. His influence was growing exponentially.
And yet, he still had to return to Whiterun.
He had to check on Ysolda. He had to inspect the homestead. He needed to see if the fermented mammoth milk turned to cheese operation had successfully fermented into the fortune he predicted. He had to reconnect with Aeloria, the Dragonborn.
And he had to deliver his intelligence to the Imperial Legion.
Aerion smiled quietly behind the bronze mask as the dark, ancient stone entrance of Geirmund's Hall finally appeared through the mist.
He knew exactly what likely waited for them underground. Another ancient ruin. Another brutal set of mechanical traps. Another horde of the restless undead. And, from his memory of the world's lore, another forgotten betrayer was stored there waiting to be uncovered, Sigdis Gauldurson.
The long road back to Whiterun was finally beginning. But before he returned home, Aerion fully intended to see exactly Geirmund's Hall which have been hiding in the dark for centuries, even though he knew more or less form the game how 8 t looked but this is real world.
The golden, autumnal canopy of the Rift slowly gave way to the towering, snow dusted pines of the Jerall Mountains as the group rode northwest toward Ivarstead.
The tense, paranoid atmosphere of Riften had completely faded, replaced by the comfortable, rhythmic clopping of hooves on the dirt road. The apprentices rode with relaxed shoulders, visibly enjoying the prospect of another practical expedition without the crushing weight of city politics hanging over them.
Near the rear of the column, Eisa rode comfortably behind Brelyna, her new steel armor gleaming in the pale sunlight. The former bandit was gradually settling into the dynamic of the group, trading quiet jokes with the young Dark Elf and no longer watching the treeline with cornered paranoia.
Eventually, the winding road brought them to the edge of a wide, rushing river that fed into the massive expanse of Lake Geir.
Aerion pulled back on Revan's reins, bringing the massive warhorse to a halt. He pointed toward the center of the churning water. Sitting in the middle of the river was a sizable, rocky island, dominated by the gaping, jagged mouth of a huge natural cavern.
"We cross here," Aerion announced, his voice carrying over the rushing water. "We need to investigate that cavern, it should have been where the ancient Nord crypt is located."
He smoothly explained that while staying in Riften, he had heard rumors about the island. According to local tavern whispers, the cavern led down into the deeply buried, ancient Nordic crypt. He deliberately omitted the fact that he already knew it was Geirmund's Hall, playing the part of the curious scholar.
The others immediately looked toward the freezing, fast moving river.
Jenassa crossed her arms, her crimson eyes flicking from the water to her patron. "And how exactly are we supposed to cross that without soaking ourselves to the bone? I am fond of many things, Patron, but freezing in wet leather is not one of them."
Aerion looked down at the icy rapids and offered a slight, unapologetic shrug.
"We are probably going to get wet," Aerion admitted casually. "Do not worry. We can dry ourselves once we reach the other side. A little fire magic will take care of the problem."
That answer earned a chorus of resigned, miserable sighs from the apprentices. J'zargo muttered something in Ta'agra about the indignity of wet fur, but nobody argued.
They guided their horses down the embankment and into the river. The crossing was entirely practical rather than overly dramatic. The current was strong, pushing against the flanks of the horses and forcing the animals to work for their footing, but it was shallow enough to cross safely. By the time the horses hauled themselves up onto the rocky shoreline of the island, everyone's boots, greaves, and the lower hems of the apprentices' robes were completely soaked with freezing water.
Aerion dismounted immediately, his heavy steel boots squelching on the rocks. He did not bother stopping to dry them in the wind. He simply drew his greatsword and led them directly into the dark, damp mouth of the cavern.
The air inside was thick and incredibly humid, smelling of wet earth and decay. Total darkness swallowed them within twenty paces.
Aerion raised his left hand and cast Mage Light. A brilliant, glowing orb of white magic detached from his palm and floated upward, sticking to the damp stone ceiling and illuminating the jagged passage.
He turned back to J'zargo, Onmund, and Brelyna.
"Cast your own," Aerion instructed, seamlessly shifting into his role as their instructor. "But do not simply hurl the spell into the dark and forget about it. This is a practical lesson."
The apprentices raised their hands, summoning their own glowing orbs, but Aerion immediately stepped in to correct them.
"Mage Light is a sustained structure," Aerion explained, his golden eyes sweeping over their hands. "You must learn to control its intensity and position it correctly. If you cast it too brightly, you blind yourselves and destroy your night vision. If you cast it too far ahead, you cast long shadows that obscure tripwires. Maintain the magical structure efficiently so that it illuminates the immediate area without wasting your Magicka reserves."
As they adjusted their spells, Aerion quietly engaged his heightened perception. Through the absolute, cosmic clarity of the Eye of Magnus, he observed the internal flow of their Magicka. He saw where Onmund was pushing too much energy into the light, and where Brelyna's containment field was slightly unstable.
"Dial it back, Onmund. You are bleeding energy," Aerion corrected softly, adjusting the Nord's wrist. "Brelyna, tighten the sphere. Let the light pool downward, not outward."
The apprentices followed his precise instructions, and the harsh, blinding glare of their spells smoothed into a soft, highly efficient, tactical glow.
They continued deeper into the illuminated cavern.
A sudden, high pitched squeaking echoed off the walls.
From the deep cracks and filthy nests in the stone, a swarm of massive, diseased skeevers came scrambling toward them, their red eyes glinting in the magical light.
"Vermin," Lydia grunted, raising her shield.
The group dealt with them in a matter of seconds. J'zargo unleashed a short, controlled burst of Sparks, frying three of the rodents instantly, while Eisa cleanly decapitated another with her Elven shield and the Pale Blade. The encounter was brief, but it effectively established that the cave was far from abandoned.
A moment later, a low, wet hissing sound came from above.
"Look up!" Jenassa warned sharply, her twin daggers already in her hands.
Half a dozen Frostbite Spiders, the size of warhounds, descended rapidly from the ceiling on thick strands of webbing, their venomous mandibles clicking aggressively.
"Formation!" Aerion ordered.
It was a brief but lively combat sequence. The apprentices, fully utilizing the lessons from Dawnstar, did not panic. Aerion deliberately held back, using the encounter to test them.
"Do not waste high tier spells on spiders!" Aerion commanded over the hissing. "Short bursts! Conserve your Magicka for the crypt!"
Brelyna cast a swift, highly concentrated stream of **Flames**, catching two spiders as they hit the ground and instantly incinerating their volatile webbing. Onmund crushed one with his new steel mace, realizing perfectly what Aerion had meant about relying on steel when magic was overkill.
With the spiders cleared, the group spread out to search the cavern. The stone walls were solid, covered in damp moss, with no obvious doorway or mechanism in sight.
Aerion deliberately acted uncertain. He paced the perimeter, trailing a gauntlet along the stone walls, letting everyone search for several minutes to build their situational awareness.
Eventually, he stopped at the edge of a massive, perfectly circular hole in the center of the cavern floor. It was a natural pit, dropping straight down into absolute darkness, though the faint sound of rushing water echoed from the bottom.
"Here," Aerion called out, pointing downward. "This may be the entrance."
Everyone immediately gathered around the edge, peering nervously into the abyss.
Lydia frowned deeply, her protective instincts flaring. "My Thane, what are we supposed to do if it is simply a dead end? Or a spike trap? We cannot easily climb back up wet stone."
"A highly reasonable concern, Lydia," Aerion agreed smoothly. He looked down into the dark water. "There is only one way to find out."
"I will go first," Aerion announced. "If there is an actual passage below, I will call up, and everyone else will follow."
Before Lydia could even open her mouth to argue, Aerion stepped off the ledge.
He plummeted into the darkness, his heavy Nordic Carved Armor pulling him down like a stone.
"My Thane!" Lydia gasped, rushing to the edge in pure alarm.
A massive, echoing splash resounded from the bottom of the pit. For several tense seconds, there was nothing but the sound of rippling water.
Then, Aerion's calm voice echoed up the shaft.
"I am fine," Aerion called up, his voice steady. "There is a deep pool, and an submerged wooden ladder beneath the water leading to a dry ledge. It is safe. Jump down, one at a time."
The group hesitated at the top of the pit.
Brelyna peered over the edge, her dark eyes wide with apprehension. "There have to be vastly easier, more academic ways to explore ancient ruins," she protested nervously, gripping her robes. "Diving into a pitch black abyss is madness."
J'zargo crossed his arms, trying desperately to preserve his dignity while staring down at the water. "J'zargo agrees with the Dunmer. Jumping into an underground pool is not exactly how a master wizard expects to spend his morning."
Still, because their instructor had gone first and confirmed the passage, pride and duty forced their hands.
Lydia jumped first, hitting the water with a heavy crash. Jenassa followed with a silent, graceful dive. Eisa pinched her nose and leapt, her new steel armor pulling her under momentarily. Onmund and J'zargo followed, shouting as they hit the freezing water. Brelyna was the absolute most reluctant, pacing the edge for a full minute before finally closing her eyes and making the leap with a sharp squeak.
The water was utterly freezing, biting through their clothes instantly.
Aerion, already standing on a half-submerged wooden ladder leading up to a dry, stone ledge, hauled them out of the water one by one. Once everyone was dripping and shivering on the dry ground, he turned and pulled open a heavy iron door, revealing the ancient, carved stone corridors of the hidden crypt.
As they regrouped just inside the doorway, the adrenaline of the jump wore off, replaced by immediate critique.
"You should not take unnecessary risks without warning us, my Thane," Lydia scolded him mildly, wringing out her wet hair. "If you had struck a rock, I would have had to drag you out."
"Why are you always the first one to throw yourself into the dark, boss?" Eisa questioned, shivering in her steel cuirass. "You're the commander. You're supposed to send the grunts first."
Jenassa was entirely more direct. She wrung the water from her leather bracers, leveling a cold, pragmatic glare at the High Elf.
"You should not have jumped down like that, Patron," Jenassa stated bluntly. "If someone needed to investigate a blind drop, I should have done it. I am significantly lighter, vastly more agile, and far more capable of climbing back up wet stone than a man wearing very heavy wieght of solid steel."
Aerion did not become defensive. He accepted the barrage of criticism with a calm, unbothered nod.
"I had already judged the depth of the water from the echo," Aerion explained reasonably. "And someone had to check the passage before sending the entire column into a potential trap."
"Being physically capable of surviving a drop does not automatically make it a sensible tactical decision," Jenassa reminded him sharply.
Aerion accepted the assassin's critique with a small, genuine smile. "Noted, Jenassa."
He turned to look at the miserable, shivering group. "However, let us focus on more immediate concerns. You are cold, and your armor is compromised by the water. It is time to dry yourselves."
Aerion held out his hands.
He didn't cast a generic, roaring wave of fire. Tapping into the infinite, flawless well of the Eye of Magnus, Aerion utilized an almost absurd degree of magical precision. He manipulated the thermal energy delicately, weaving the heat entirely through the air.
A wave of intense, perfectly controlled warmth washed over the group. It didn't burn their skin or singe the fur on their cloaks. The heat specifically targeted the freezing moisture trapped in their clothing and armor. Plumes of white steam rapidly rose from their bodies as the water was instantly evaporated, leaving their robes, leather, and hair entirely warm and dry in a matter of seconds.
The display left everyone very shocked and impressed.
The three apprentices, in particular, were utterly fascinated. They had learned to control spells better under his guidance, but they had never seen a mage manipulate raw elemental heat so delicately.
"The purpose of Destruction magic is not always raw power," Aerion explained to the wide-eyed scholars. "The trick is absolute control over the energy. Too much heat, and you waste Magicka and burn your allies. Too little, and you accomplish nothing. The ultimate goal of a master is precise, deliberate application."
Warm, dry, and newly educated, the group prepared their weapons and pushed deeper into the crypt.
Beyond the iron door lay a massive burial complex, defined by the oppressive, heavy stonework of the ancient Nords. But the architecture was barely visible. Frostbite Spiders had completely colonized the upper halls. Massive, thick sheets of white webbing covered the walls, floors, and ceilings. Some sections of the corridor were entirely blocked by dense, suffocating layers of silk.
The group fought their way through the infestation. Jenassa and Lydia handled the spiders that dropped into melee range with brutal efficiency, while the apprentices maintained a steady barrage of supportive fire from the rear. Aerion conserved his blade, periodically casting highly controlled streams of Flames to cleanly burn away the massive web blockages so they didn't have to hack through the sticky obstructions manually.
The area felt increasingly claustrophobic and ancient as they descended further into the earth.
Eventually, they breached a second set of iron doors.
Beyond it lay a massive, partially collapsed chamber. The floor was flooded with dark, freezing water that came just above their boots but remained below their knees. The submerged stone tiles were incredibly slippery and uneven.
The moment they splashed into the room, the heavy lids of several stone sarcophagi violently burst open.
Glowing blue eyes pierced the gloom as a horde of Draugr awakened from their centuries of slumber.
"Formation!" Aerion barked.
The group instantly snapped into a tight tactical shape. The enemies pouring into the water ranged from armored Restless Draugr to massive, highly dangerous Draugr Scourges wielding ancient battleaxes.
The moderate combat sequence that followed perfectly demonstrated exactly how much the group had improved.
Without Tolfdir present to cast massive, sweeping wards, Aerion handled the magical leadership entirely by himself. But he quickly realized he barely needed to issue corrections.
The apprentices were finally capable of contributing effectively without constant oversight. They coordinated their spells flawlessly. When a Draugr Scourge charged through the water toward Eisa, Onmund and Brelyna synchronized a dual cast Firebolt, striking the undead warrior simultaneously and staggering it backward, allowing Eisa to step in and cleanly sever its head with the Pale Blade.
Lydia and Jenassa moved through the shallow, treacherous water with absolute confidence. Jenassa used the slippery terrain to her advantage, sliding beneath the swing of a heavy greatsword to hamstring a Draugr, while Lydia's shield bashes sent the undead crashing back into the freezing water.
Aerion methodically cut down anything that broke through the frontline, deeply satisfied with the lethal, cohesive machine his vanguard had become.
After clearing the flooded chamber, they moved up a set of stone stairs and reached a heavy, sealed iron gate.
Standing before the gate was a puzzle mechanism, four ancient stone pillars carved with Nordic animal totems, sitting on a raised dais.
Aerion already knew the solution perfectly from his memories of the game. Hawk, Whale, Snake, Whale. But he could not simply rotate the pillars into the correct sequence without arousing immense suspicion. "Spread out," Aerion ordered, stepping back from the pillars. "Search the surrounding walls, the rubble, and the stone reliefs for clues. I will not always be here to solve the locks for you."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 860/860
Stamina: 900/900
Magicka: 980/980 [External Capacity & Regeneration: ∞]
Level: 231
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Eye Of Magnus (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+5)/Lightning(+2)/Frost(+2)) (Level 0/91/70), Restoration (Healing(+2)/Purify(+2)) (Level 50/98), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/90), Persuasion(+2) (Level 83), Smithing (Level 57), Sneak(+1) (Level 64), One Handed(+2) (Level 0), Two Handed(+1) (Level 29), Lockpicking (Level 55), Archery(+1) (Level 0), Enchanting(+1) (Level 23), Light Armor(+2) (Level 10), Block (Level 70), Pickpocket (Level 8), & Heavy Armor (Level 59)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii Gron (Fade Spirit Bind), Su (Air), Laas (Life), Yol Toor (Fire Inferno), Kaan (Kyne), Zul Mey Gut (Voice Fool Far), & IIZ (Ice)
[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, 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, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Gold Emerald Circlet, Scroll of Fire Storm, Iron Garnet Circlet, Iron Sapphire Circlet, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, Dwarven Shield, Wuuthrad's Fragments, Staff of Fireball, Mage Boots Of Weight, Master Robes Of Destruction, & Staff of Jyrik Gauldurson
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: 93.41 KG / 750 KG
Septims: 77,867