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An Oblivion Gate Opens

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Lady N's picture
Joined: 06/26/2010

Author - Edi


It was a fine, Cyrodiilic morning. Blue skies, rolling pastures, a large and quite frankly ostentatious gate to Oblivion sitting in one of said pastures, singing birds... That second to last one garnered the attention of some of the locals, not all of the locals mind you, they had much better things to do, such as… bread… baking.

Regardless, three of these locals, or perhaps they were wandering adventurers from some far off land, doesn’t matter, decided to investigate. Our three brave heroes were as follows; a Bosmer lass named Ginriel who possessed a less-than-optimistic worldview, an Imperial man named Vantias who was slow, to put it lightly, and Kitroc, a Redguard.

They stood at the Gate, and, in probably the single worst decision a person could’ve made in this situation, they decided to go inside. They were immediately, and not at all surprisingly, beset by lesser Daedra. Luckily most people can fight scamps given a large enough stick, and these three, at the very least, smart enough to bring actual weapons. Except Ginriel, because as a mage she was contractually obligated to carry around a large stick, colloquially known as a ‘staff’. Personally, I think magic would be better paired with a sword. Or a hammer. Or anything other than a large stick.

Anyway, these three brave, charming, stellar examples of mortality eventually and barely won their little battle against Dagon’s least threatening of forces, and had to decide what to do next. Now, a rational being would think that maybe, after barely surviving a fight against a handful of scamps, that retreat would the best option. Not these geniuses. They pressed onwards.

Within this little corner of Mr. Dagon’s Happy Fire Pit, were two towers. One was large, imposing, and had a strange red glow emanating from some of the upper windows. It was also positively crawling with Dremora. Obviously, something important was up there. The other tower was smaller, guarded by one scamp, and overrun with those odd whippy-plants Mehrunes seems so fond of. Never saw the appeal myself.

Obviously, the three adventurers chose the slightly less intimidating tower.

After dispatching the scamp with a nice whack from Ginriel’s stick, they entered to find… stairs and another scamp. Too many scamps… Nonetheless our trio of terrifying, terrific, terrified adventurers ascended. Now, I’m not sure what they thought they were ascending to or for, but they ascended nonetheless. A sentiment I find disturbingly familiar.


ANYWHO! Kitroc, a Redguard, led the charge up and up and up the tower! Fighting scamps, banekin, and slightly larger scamps! Once even an actual, proper Dremora! I’d be proud if I didn’t know how this story ended. Our three amazing, wonderful, perfectly intelligent and not-at-all horrifically stupid heroes eventually made it to the top!


At the top of the tower was…

An empty room.

Ginriel turned to Kitroc, a Redguard, and asked “What next?”

Now, what Kitroc, a Redguard should have said was “Let’s cut our losses and go home.”

However, he instead said “Mmmphh!” as Vantias threw a hand over his mouth before Kitroc, a Redguard, could form a coherent sentence and gleefully announced that they were going to press onwards and-

Vantias was killed by an arrow to the skull.

What? Did you think an all-powerful Daedric prince wouldn’t notice three loud, obnoxious mortals snooping around his realm? Ha! Figures! So Dagon sent a handful of some more competent underlings, (of which there are so few nowadays) to deal with them. Kitroc went next, in a similar manner to Vantias. Ginriel was last, smooshed with a warhammer.

The underlings began to tidy up when an actually competent mortal entered from stage left! An amazing, attractive, charming hero with a reputation for closing up these portals! In fact it was practically a day job by this point. Not a job that ever PAID mind you! The actual real hero, in a blaze of glory and literal fire killed ALL of Dagon’s pitiful little ‘elites’ with a sword! And spells! Because this actual, real hero knew that magic is even better WITH a sword! And a shield! Always use protection kiddies!

The actual, real hero, who had great hair, finished up, and descended the tower, paying as little mind possible to the corpses of the three hapless wannabe heroes, and then ascended the other tower, took a sigil stone, and closed the portal. Let this be a lesson to you tiny, insignificant mortals! When something big, scary, and potentially world ending happens, and you and your little group of hapless friends decide to wedge yourselves into a Daedric portal, DON’T!

I swear! All of you have the survival instincts of lemmings! Ooh! That reminds me! Haskill! I need fourty-three lemmings! For the Soup! Chop chop! What was I saying? Oh right! If yer going to play hero, either be an actual, real hero, or bring a damn army!

Or don’t. I do so enjoy a little bit of tragedy.


Lady N's picture
Joined: 06/26/2010

This piece was written for our 20th anniversary fan art contest! It is strictly property of its original creator - you may not modify, publish, or redistribute it without explicit permission from the artist.