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Unbound Familiar

An avid gamer nerd's dreams come true in another brutal yet lucky? fashion. Follow him as he does his best not to die in laughably humiliating ways, all while trying to escape his abrupt and unwanted servitude. Will his knowledge of the world he finds himself help him succeed? Will he return home? Will evolve past his title of 'Dog'? Read and find out! This will be another multiversal world-hopping story, similar to my other one, EBW. I'll not spoil the surprise of the first world, but Skyrim will eventually be involved... And no, I'll not be adhering to plot, instead destroying it and hopefully not butchering the original story in the process. Feel free to join my Discord : https://discord.gg/EJxRKkwtDm Also, if you enjoy my stories, want to read ahead, and or support me. Take a look at my Patreon : https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross Also, I've 'borrowed' the picture from : greenmapple17, on Deviant Art.

Niggross · Videojogos
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713 Chs

The Blood Moon

Michael's first time meeting went generally how he thought it would. The Grand Magus agreed to tutor him in the ways of magic, and in return, Micahel would acquire arcane knowledge from other worlds for him. Along with occasionally helping the mage out with any experiments he may have.

The deal was essentially the same as the one he had with Auroth, only that he might die a few times in botched experiments... But that didn't really matter since he was basically immortal inside the Book of Legends.

Unfortunately, it appears that Michael wasn't going to catch a break anytime soon, as not all that long after Clavicus usurpation of the moon, another change occurs... The green moons dim slightly before turning crimson.

"The Blood Moon..." he mutters to himself as most of Winterhold anxiously observes the phenomenon...

"I recall you saying that this wasn't common...?" Ennura approaches with her eyes continuously locked on the moons.

"Yeah, well, looks like a different Daedric Prince is responsible for it this time. Blood Moon means Hircine."

"Oh, so you haven't forgotten me." a voice remarks from behind Michael, causing him to almost jump out of his skin.

Michael spins around and finds himself locked in place as he looks upon Hircine, the Daedric Prince of the Hunt, who was standing right in front of him. "W-what are you doing here?" he quickly asks, making sure the Vessel of the Hunt was securely locked in his inventory.

"Hmph, you should be thankful that I haven't rid the world of you, your squandering of my gift is insult enough!... Even know you hide it where even I cannot sense." the 10ft Daedra sneers under the deer skull he was adorned with, "You must feel so smug, but know this. The others are aware of you, and your acquisition of their relics."

...

Yeah, Michael had certainly not wanted to hear that. The Daedric Princes were aware that he was hiding their artifacts away? Right now he had artifacts belonging to Hircine, Nocturnal, Mephala, and Azura, a pretty scary lineup, even with Nocturnal being completely absent from the world at the moment. "How?"

"Foolish servant, did you really think we'd be unaware of things embued with our power? We don't need mortal eyes to see... But fret not, as I have come with a proposition."

Michael chews the inside of his cheek, noticing the scared-looking Ennura slowly backing away from him and Hircine, "I'm assuming this 'proposition' has something to do with the moon?"

Hircine nods, almost clipping Michael with his rather large antlers, "Indeed. With Azura and Clavicus fighting over the moon, I decided to, ah... Mediate. Mediate with a competition! A hunt!"

...

"Hmph, you seem unimpressed. Do you know how difficult it is to gather my brothers and sisters? I had to tempt them all with promises of glory and power. You would have been aware of all this had you not sealed away my artifact." the Daedric Prince grouses.

"Wait, just how many Princes are we talking?" Michael tentatively asks, wondering just how fucked this situation was going to be.

Hircine crosses his arms, "Most of them. But worry not, Nocturnal will be absent. She lacks servants and the ability to acquire more, a pitiful state... Now, I plan for this to be the greatest hunt of all, and I wish for you to be my Champion."

...

"No?" Michael states without much confidence, there wasn't much one could say to a Demon God, especially one who was standing in the middle of your home town, within the grasp of your friends and family...

Hircine shakes his head, "You are mistaken, you are already mine. You will participate or be punished."

Michael shakes his head and quickly retorts, "I never agreed to serve you, we are nothing."

"Your willingness in the matter is not needed. You will do as I say, consider this repayment for sealing my artifact. After the Hunt I will release you from your obligation." Hircine states, not giving him any out.

"I said I won't-" Michael starts again but finds the world whirling around him, his vision turning black for a moment before it returns, revealing the foreign location he was now in.

It was a large, dark circular room with seventeen chairs positioned next to the walls under sigils matching each Daedric Prince. There were already some people gathered under them, a few Michael could actually recognise.

Under the sigil of Azura was the familiar face of Nelacar, the Altmer mage who once apprenticed under Malyn Varen, the Master who Michael had killed while leading the other Apprentices after he'd raised the dead of Winterhold. Malyn was also the mage that he'd stolen the Star of Azura from.

Nelacar looked different from last he saw him though, his face was paler, cleaner, and overall more charming. He wore half white and half black robes that had depictions of the sun and moon on them. He had a staff at his side, along with a strange curved weapon on his hip.

Michael tries to speak to him but finds himself unable to speak or utter a single sound... Shaking his head, he turns towards the next person, a man sitting under the Sigil of Mehrunes Dagon that wore robes of the Mythic Dawn. This was probably Silus Vesuius, the guy who gives the Dragonborn the quest to retrieve Mehrune's Razor.

Michael had been keeping an eye on him, and would have gone to retrieve the Razor's shards once his tower had been constructed... Sadly, it seems that fate wouldn't permit that.

Silus Vesuius had his hood up, but what was visible of his face wasn't pleasant. He had many scars and burns, black bags under his eyes and a lifeless expression. Michael was sure the man had suffered some degree of torture, he well knew the look of someone who'd suffered that sort of pain and humiliation.

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