A Failed Journey

[Authors Note]: I had a question about how I was planning on taking the story especially in regards to the other people sent into the world.

I only have a very general outline for this story and mostly just start writing about it when I feel the urge. So sorry in advance for the lack of planning or any thing which may not line up with what was previously said or done. If you have any ideas for the story, let me know. Maybe I will even use them or get inspiration from it. I appreciate it. If you were wanting more details on the story, then sorry about that because even I am not sure about it yet.

Our MC will eventually meet and interact with some of the others like him, but I do not see them joining him on his adventures. He will come into conflict with some of them and potentially even work with some for smaller missions. The other people will be changing some of the things in the story though which can have a wider impact in the world. This chapter is actually about one of the other people who will have a great impact on the world as a whole, even it does not happen soon.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Down in the bowels of the earth where no normal person dare travels, lies Blackreach. Once a key location for the dwarves, now it is a ruin overrun with creatures which lurk in the dark depths of Skyrim. An ongoing war between the falmer and dwarven automatons has ensured an oppressive silence carpets the land with the only respite being the clashing of weapons, battle cries of the falmer, and the churning gears of the automatons.

A sound not often heard in this dark realm begins as a low murmur which quickly escalates, and a resounding racket fills the area. The creature responsible for this noise can be found inside a small building on the ground level of Blackreach. Inside this building there is a carpet of corpses in various states of disembowelment. Many of these corpses are covered in burn marks, ice, or even what appears to be electrical burns. Along the walls of the room stands a dozen corpses waiting for the command of their master. If one of these corpses were able to think, they would have noticed the recent change in their master's behavior.

"HAHAHAHA!!! I have only ever imagined something such as this! Now I can finally show my true power and potential! The world will prostrate before me! Between my undead army and powerful destruction magic, NOTHING WILL STOP ME!!....and collecting a few waifus to faithfully 'serve' me will of course happen as well. Hehe.."

As he finishes his tirade, the hood of his black robes falls revealing his face. Unlike the typical evil sorcerer, this man is the picture of masculinity. A combination of Captain America and Thor, many a person would undoubtedly find him quite a catch. A more perceptive person may notice the madness which clouds his eyes and gives insight into the soul of such a person.

"Hidden away here I will be able to strengthen my power and consolidate my forces without worry of outside interference. Then when the time is right, maybe once the war concludes, I will Rise Up and TAKE OVER WHAT I DESERVE. IT Will ALL Be Mine. With the power of DESTRUCTION and my background knowledge of necromancy, None shall be able to stop me! Now where to begin…huh?"

A noise could be heard coming from the other side of the door leading out of his little home. The noise sounded almost like gears turning mixed with metal being slid over dirt. The man begins to move closer to the door in order to investigate what could be going on here. Unfortunately, this man did not pay attention to his subconscious thoughts during his monologuing. If he had, he would have known that making loud noises in this cave system is not a good idea.

Soon, a loud war cry could be heard right outside his door and what sounding like the crashing of weapons. The man began to panic hearing what sounded like a battle right where he had been hiding. Wishing to be protected from the fighting, the man slowly started to back away from the door leading outside. He did not realize that as he was thinking about being protected, his undead minions began rushing towards the door and the awaiting battle.

The poor man was viciously pushed into the door by his horde of undead minions. The panic in his mind only making the horde more frantic to go protect their master. Suddenly, the door opened and now the horde burst out throwing their poor master face first into the ground. The moans of the undead could now be heard intermingling with battle cries, and the churning of gears.

Looking up from his position, the man saw something he was not prepared to see. A large battle with nearly 100 participants was being fought right before his eyes. He saw the twisted looking falmer using blades, bows and magic. He saw dwarven spheres holding the front line with their blades and crossbows with dwarven spiders supporting them with their claws and lightning. In the back he saw a couple dwarven ballistas firing at the falmer and being hit in return by the falmer's arrows and magic. At the center of the battle, three fully armored falmer were battling against a colossal looking dwarven centurion.

The small horde attacked on the outskirts of where both sides had engaged each other. They encountered little resistance as they caught both sides of the battle off guard, and since they did not attack any of the heavy hitters from either side yet. Watching the undead tear into both metal and flesh, an insane smile began to appear on the man's face as he arose from his position on the ground.

"You all will be a steppingstone to my greatness! This will be the beginning of My Legend!"

Sparks began to appear around the mans as he threw back his head in laughter. As the sparks began to grow more chaotic, the man stared at one of the falmer who was beginning to attack his undead. With a mighty shout, the man began his assault and his legend.

"UNLIMITED POWER!"

The man began wading into the battle and making his presence known. His undead crowded around him created a perfect meat shield allowing him to cast out his destructive magic without interruption. Lightning blasted out paralyzing flesh and gears alike. Frost coated the ground causing his enemies to slip and fall allowing his undead to easily tear into their prone form. Fire crisped flesh and warped metal. Nothing seemed to be able to stop the man as his insane laughter could be heard across the entire battlefield.

As suddenly as it began, the battle seemed to stop. In front of the man was a solitary enemy. From the over 100 beings which participated in the battle, only 2 remained standing. The man had made it till the end thanks to his quick thinking and undead horde tanking all the blows meant for him. Now he had one last enemy to defeat…the Centurion. Both were battered and worn down. The man had his robe torn, was covered in bleeding scratches, and even had an arrow in his knee of all places. The Centurion did not appear much better. The fighting had dented the armor in many places, oil seemed to be leaking out, and it was even missing part of its arm.

"You have fought valiantly, but none shall stop me. You are destined to only sharpen my Skill and nothing more. Winner take all, and I am the winner."

Pulling upon his last bits of mana, the man was determined to end this fight. During the final parts of the battle, he had realized that coating his arms with his destructive power and hitting his enemies caused a massive increase in damage compared to shooting his magic. What he sacrificed in range, he more than made up with power. With lightning flowing along his arms, he charged the mighty behemoth. As he neared the centurion, it raised its arm for one final blow.

'Too slow' the man thought with a smile spreading upon his face once again. With a quick jump the man aimed his final hit to land right in the center of the centurion's chest.

A pair of legs is all that remained.

Looking down at all that remained of the final enemy, a twinkle of regret almost appeared in the eyes of the victorious one.

Almost being the key word. Since the eyes of a dwarven construct were made of metal, they couldn't really show emotion. If it could think, it would probably wonder why such a flimsy meat bag thought it could win in melee combat with an unstoppable force such as itself. Just because its arm moved back slow, does not mean it cannot move forward quickly.

The hiss of steam of clanking of gears caused the Centurion to more dwarven constructs arriving at the scene of battle and beginning to scavenge it for parts. The Centurion started back towards a repair station in order to recover and begin its vigil over its masters' domain once again.

Unbeknownst to it, an almost imperceptible energy flowed through its body. The once bright grand soul gym began to darken into a sickening black color, while the lights normally produced from its dynamo core changed from a brilliant red to the color of blood.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the door leading outside finally opened, the boom of thunder and lightning crack immediately greeted Rictus. Rain then began to pour down from the sky.

"….balls…guess I will get that beer tomorrow."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

[A/N]: I know it wasn't the most surprising ending, but I thought it was fun. The story of the man originally had him dying as soon as he looked out the door, but I felt a little bad for the guy so I gave him a whole chapter instead of a paragraph or 2. If you think that he is still alive....well that is an interesting thought. Wrong, but still interesting. Next chapter will be back with the original MC.