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Hell's Eternal (Dropped)

*The last time I wrote a book was in second grade and language arts were always my least favorite classes. So don't expect gold.* A guy dies then meets a ROB who turns out to be a sadist. After which he gets a couple of wishes, and bada-bing bada-boom he ends up in one of the deepest parts of hell next to a certain insane angel. Sounds fun right... yeah... no. [A/N: I don't own the cover, if you're the original author and want me to remove it, please contact me.] [A/N: I do not own Marvel. I am only playing in their universe(s)]

FlammableFire · Anime e quadrinhos
Classificações insuficientes
65 Chs

C54 Trolly Troll

'Okay... now where do I put all this shit?'

I wasn't talking about the bones, but the soul I was absorbing.

My soul, because of its eternal attribute, wasn't able to be 'assimilated' by the Dragonborn blessing, which left it to just—float—on top of my soul instead.

It's the same for my lycanthropy.

Technically, this means that I'm not a Dovahkiin, or a werewolf, as I haven't made it an actual part of me.

And I don't plan to.

At least not now, and not in a 'normal' way, as it would basically be giving someone—Akatosh or Hircine—some control over myself.

What this means for Mirmulnir's soul, is that if I absorb it like normal, it won't actually go into the blessing like it should for a true Dovahkiin, who's soul has become one with the blessing.

Instead, it will get broken down and turned into nutrients and memories, like always—but—this is where the problem lays.

'Who the fuck makes blessings out of their own soul?'

All dragons and, by extension, all Dovahkiin, are actually little pieces, or shards, of Akatosh's original self.

'Wait. Is that how it was, or are they just some other... ugh, I don't even care...'

This isn't to say they're clones, but more like tiny aspects of him, where each one has their own life, memories, and self unto their own.

So—what would happen if one of those pieces were to completely disappear, like they never existed?

Add to that, that Akatosh is the 'God' of time, and his soul is supposed to be eternal—at least in so far that he governs the concept of time and would technically 'exist' for all time.

'He'd probably come out of his schizophrenic, death sleep just long enough to try kicking me out—since I'd be giving myself away—then cause another Dragon Break to fix everything, only to end up making it worse.'

My solution to all of this is to simply not absorb Mirmulnir...

I'll just let the blessing absorb it by itself instead, just like it wants to.

The end result won't be as good as if done personally, but it won't be much worse either.

It also won't make everything boring, which is nice, for someone with an infinite amount of time on their hands.

'Aah, so many things to do, and all the time I'll need to do them...'

I won't absorb his memories, but the blessing will turn into a reservoir of knowledge from which I can learn, instead of something that only gives me the occasional brain 'tickle.'

-Nibble—Nibble-

Hearing something in my ear, I look at my shoulder.

There's a squirrel sitting on it, gnawing at a nut.

Noticing my gaze, he freezes, and looks at me through the corner of his eye.

I look at him.

He looks at me.

I look at him...

After a moment, he slowly stuffs the nut in his cheek and jumps off, disappearing into the woods.

Sighing, I think, 'You know you're spending too much time in your head if a squirrel thinks you're a good picnic table.'

Then I look down, "Why am even sitting here?"

I'm currently sitting on Mirmulnir's skull, spending too much time in—

"Dammit! I'm doing it again!" standing up, I hop off the skull, "I really have to stop getting so caught up in my own—"

-Clang-

Freezing in my tracks, I look down at all the metal pieces that just fell off from me.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?"

When I transformed, my armor didn't just pop off and fly everywhere, it was made to all come together and turn into something like a satchel that I could take with me as a werewolf.

That way I would have something to wear afterward.

I just didn't account for the possibility of going for a ride on top of a draconic wrecking ball...

"At least my spare clothing is relatively fine."

A light tunic was also stuffed into a little compartment in the armor, so I didn't have to worry about ripping through my first set.

After removing the rest of the ruined gear—I climbed a tree.

So, I could figure out where I am.

"Ha, what a coincidence."

I'm near the foot of the mountain that Bleak Falls Barrow is on top of.

Getting back down to the ground, I think, 'Alright—I doubt anyone of them will come soon since they were pretty beat up when I left, so...'

'I'll just keep going on with the "main quest" then,' nodding to myself, I sit down against a tree.

Focussing in, on the blessing, I start searching for, and learning, everything to do with the dragon's concept of "fus," or force.

The Thu'um is just the language of dragons, as they understand the 'Words of Power' inherently, as it's their natural language.

It's similar to the Tonal Architecture of the Dwarves, as neither use Magicka and rely on altering the "Song of the Universe" instead.

Because of this, it can be considered to be on a higher tier then normal magic—but—it's much harder to do as a consequence.

Basically, if a normal spell uses Magicka to create effects and manipulate the universe, then the Thu'um taps into the 'source code' of reality itself and, if strong enough, can bend or change it to the user's will.

In essence, normal magic has to play within a box, whereas the Thu'um, and other tonal 'magics,' can just tell the box what to do, or change it all together.

Of course, there are exceptions to this, but they aren't what you'll find at a normal magic college... usually.

It took a quarter-hour to reach a basic understanding of fus—enough to use the shout, at the very least.

Thinking so, I stand up and face the tree I was sitting at, wanting to test it out.

But, before that—

"DO! VAH! KIIN!"

I hear my summons to High Hrothgar, accompanied by intense thunder.

"Uh..." I blink a couple times, 'Guess I don't have to shout then.'

I just shrug, and look at the Throat of the World to the east—then—I look at my ruined gear...

Slowly, I turn to look at all the bones.

After standing still for a few seconds, I start taking off my tunic, "They better have a forge there, or Imma be screwed."

Now naked—again—I start wrapping the best bones and scales in them.

Once I had an adequate amount, I made a satchel out of it and then put it on—tightly—after turning into a werewolf.

I looked up to the sun, which told me it was around noon, 'I wonder if I can get there before nightfall... without being seen.'

— — —

"Raaa!"

'Damn troll.'

Running past it, I kick its side, making it stumble into the little cave thing it calls home.

While leaving, I say, "This isn't a bridge, ugly. You should relocate."

Not caring if it understood, I left to make the final stretch of the climb.

While leaving, I look at the setting sun, 'Guess I made it here pretty fast.'

'Erm,' I look down at my thoroughly trashed—half—of a tunic, 'I guess this will have to do.'

The trip here was fast n' rough, which made it get beat up no matter how much I tried protecting it.

'Why didn't I just take some stuff from the bandits I passed on my way here...'

Shaking my head, I walk up the stairs of High Hrothgar.

'They won't care anyway,' I twirl the sack in my hand made from the other half of my tunic, 'not when they see all the dragon stuff I have with me.'

Stopping by the doors, the first thing I do is—listen.

'Well... I don't here any disco music... I'm kinda disappointed...'

-Bang—Bang—Bang-

I banged on the door a few times and then waited.

For a couple minutes...

Someone eventually answered the door; they could only be Arngeir, since they spoke.

"Is there something you need, young one?" he said, after inspecting me a bit.

After opening the sack, so he could see the contents, I ask, "Does this answer your question."

— —

After being given a robe to wear, they wanted to 'taste' my voice.

"So, you just want me to shout at you?"

All four nodded, while Arngeir added, "Do not be afraid. You will not harm us."

He's right.

At full power, even at my current understanding, I would gorify, if not atomize, them—not just 'hurt' them.

Since I don't have to channel any Magicka, I could technically go full power without ruining my body...

I would just ruin everything else—and maybe my vocal cords.

Shrugging, I stepped back, so I could get all four of them with one shout.

On the way here, I was able to study 'fus' to a deeper level, and I'm confident in its power, even if I only channel it through the blessing which would give me the max power of one weak dragon.

"Ready?"

They all nodded.

I inhale, but realize I've yet to actually do this yet, 'Well... he said they could handle it.'

"FUS!"

From my mouth, a visible wave of air, traveled toward the four of them.

They were all in a stance to take on the force that would be received, but even then, they couldn't help but be affected.

Their robes fluttered backward while they themselves slide to the wall a few feet behind them.

Though, they never lost their stance, or balance.

'I guess you don't study the Thu'um for decades and learn nothing...'

"That—was quite impressive, Dragonborn. We welcome you to..."

After that was the normal spiel.

They'll guide me in the way of the voice, but it's up to me to discover my destiny.

They also told me there was a task I had to complete before being officially recognized as Dragonborn, but that they would tell me later, when I was rested.

And thus, marked my first day with them...

— —

The next day wasn't all that much more eventful.

After breakfast, I was 'taught' the second word of Unrelenting Force, "ro," or balance.

It went rather smoothly, as I'd already learned a bit beforehand in preparation.

It was after I'd proven enough proficiency in both words, that I was told my task, which was also a tradition.

That was, to retrieve a new disco ba—

-Cough-

The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

Once I'd done so, I would have their full support.

This was also when I asked if they had a forge, which they did, it's just that it was rarely used.

"Master Wulfgar will show you the way to the forge. You may use any of the material that's been collected over the years."

I nodded to him and then followed Wulfgar to the end of one of the wings of High Hrothgar.

After arriving, he shouted at the forge to relight it and then left me to my craft.

'Alright... how should I do this?'

— —

//Note//

He'll actually make his own armor, this time.

Hopefully, it'll turn out better.

As for why he didn't sooner.

It's because he would've liked to learn more about enchanting and stuff first, but now, he doesn't have much choice.

— —

Why was his shout so weak?

From what I understand, the Thu'um is still controlled by the soul, so if he were to shout it would be like Akatosh himself shouted...

Instead, he'll just do it through the DB blessing, that way, he'll increase in strength as he absorbs more dragon souls.

Like the game.

— —

Forge! What forge!?

From what I remember, High Hrothgar doesn't have a forge, but a place like that would need one.

They can't rely solely on outside supplies.

— —

How long will the Skyrim arc be?

This is chapter 9 or 8.5 so far.

So, at this speed, I would guess around 30 more, or so.

But truthfully, I don't know.

I could decide to add more or less to it.

I only keep rough plans/goals, and just let my own writing dictate the pace.

— —