Thunder Shroud Chapter 4

Edited by: Priapus, Marethyu

I know I’ve said this before, but real Skyrim is huge compared to the game. Which, yeah, fucking obviously. But you can’t really comprehend the difference until you’re actually experiencing it. The tundra of Whiterun can’t be crossed in twenty-five seconds. It actually takes you hours on foot just to make half the progress you’d otherwise make in the game. It’s genuinely disorienting. Not saying I hate it, of course. Whiterun Hold is pretty beautiful.

And, again, it’s not as cold as Eastmarch. Still freezing, but honestly way, way better. As a guy who’s weak to the cold, that’s a big plus for me. I’m not sure if it’s warmer or colder than Riften, which I am planning to visit sooner or later, but as long as it’s not cold enough to make me want to pull my scalp out, that’s good enough for me.

Also, one more positive thing to say about real-life Skyrim is the lack of monsters and animals wanting to rip me a new one every five seconds. In the game, the lands are filled with a bandit population larger than how many people there are on Earth seven times over, giants around every corner looking for a lucky winner to turn into Tamriel’s first ever astronaut, and ten million dragons raining down hell from above.

So, you know, I can get used to this. I am not, however, used to walking such long distances. Three hours just to get to my destination, and while I’m thanking every god out there for not sending eldritch horrors on my way there just to see me cry and piss my pants in fear, it’s still kind of tough. My feet hurt a little. And that’s considering my supernatural physical ability.

After getting my ass handed to me by Farkas but still getting his money because Nord Pride, I got a decent bow from that asshole merchant, a large enough quiver to hold thirty arrows, a new, shiny steel dagger better than the one Golldir gave me, and some supplies like food and a few potions. Good stuff. All that made me even more confident in taking on a couple of bandits.

[Bounty Hunting #1: Bandits] – Quest

Objective: Capture or kill Brokrag Bolmwog in Halted Stream Camp

Bonus Objective: Capture or kill every bandit in Halted Stream Camp

Rewards: 500 Septims, [Shortsword Mastery] Skill

Bonus rewards: 750 Septims

Not much, but baby steps. Daggers aren’t really good for combat as they are good for sneak attacks, so a skill like that would be a ton of help. That’s also not counting the EXP I’ll be getting from clearing out the camp, as it’s considered a ‘dungeon’ by the system. I’m hoping I’ll find treasures, too. Bandits tend to steal valuable things, after all.

Now, am I scared of a couple of dumbass probably untrained bandits? Yes. Very much. Do I think I can beat them? Also yes. That’s why I’m confident in my victory despite the crippling fear of death. Or worse. I don’t know where the fuck I’d be going when I die, but please let it be Sovengarde or something. Anything but the Daedric realms.

…If there’s a necromancer or a conjuration mage in that camp, they’re dying first. I’m not going to the Soul Cairn today, no sir.

God, I need to get a follower or something. This is genuinely not good for my heart.

…Huh, I wonder if Inigo exists? I mean, I did wake up in the abandoned prison, which is an alternate start mod, so maybe I should go to Riften sooner than I was thinking. Then again, Inigo only joins you on your adventures to atone for his sins because he supposedly tried to kill you due to his skooma addiction. If I’m not the Dragonborn, then that doesn’t apply to me.

I sigh to myself as I stop a good distance away from the bandit camp, hiding away from their watchtowers. I’ll think about that later if I survive.

Again, as expected, the camp surrounding the mine is much, much larger than its game counterpart. Instead of the handful of bandits wearing shitty fur armor standing around doing nothing, it’s almost like I’m looking at a genuine community. Dozens of bandits from every race. Some wear heavy steel armor, others wield weapons not seen in the original game, like spears, staffs, flails— that kind of stuff.

Yeah, I love the game, but when it came to basic weaponry, it fell short. Seriously, no spears in your medieval game? C’mon, Bethesda.

As for mages, well, there are a couple. I see about two in total? Not counting any who could be hiding deep inside the mine. Not sure how powerful they could be, but I doubt a typical bandit could hold a candle to even a novice college mage. Still not gonna underestimate them. I just started out this mercenary thing.

I take a deep breath and hide behind a nearby bush, taking out my bow and arrow. Right, well, time to strategize.

I’ve never raided a camp before, but I think I have just enough common sense to realize that attacking in the middle of the day is pretty dumb. I’m no juggernaut— I should be avoiding damage and detection altogether. Thankfully, because I foresaw this before making the trek, I actually decided to wait and hang around Whiterun for a few hours. So right now, it’s pretty late.

Again, and I cannot stress this enough, I am SO fucking glad I didn’t run into any godforsaken vampires while coming here.

To start my raid, my first obvious target should be the archers on the watchtowers. This isn’t the game, so one dead means they’re gonna start looking for me until I either fuck off back to Whiterun or they have my head on a pike. Meaning I need to be quick. I see three watchtowers with three archers.

Dunno if there’s any more. Probably yes, but for now, I should be concerned only with what I can see. Once I’ve gotten rid of them, I’ll worry about the rest.

As I prepare my arrow at the one in the northern watchtower, aiming directly at him, I pause and think to myself. Then again, I only have to kill their leader to complete the quest. The bonus objective only gives me more money, and while 750 is a lot of money for me at the moment, it’s not really necessary. On the other hand, wiping the camp means a lot more EXP.

…Should I risk it? I mean, I don’t wanna die. Death is scary, but it’s not like I have a lot to live for. And while I can die by getting stabbed in the gut, so can they. It’s really just a matter of who’s able to land a proper hit first. The Elder Scrolls universe is filled with monsters who can toy with reality like it's fucking playdoh, but I’m nowhere near that powerful. And neither are these bandits.

Can my heritage as a ‘Raiju’ really make that difference? I did defeat a couple of Draugr, one of which could use the Voice, even if I had help…

…Oh fuck it.

I let go of the arrow, and it soars directly into his cranium, piercing his head and killing him instantly. Thankfully, nobody immediately notices, as the watchtowers look over different directions and are too far apart for someone to clearly see what just happened, so I act quickly and nock another arrow, shooting the second bandit in the head.

Unlike the first time I killed someone, I’m focused and far less skittish. Perhaps it helps that I’m not seeing their bleeding corpses directly next to me, but I don’t question it and aim to kill the third bandit. However, I get a little too hasty and miss my shot, alerting him as the whistling arrow passes directly by him.

“Shit…” I click my tongue in annoyance and worry.

Naturally, the bandit takes cover and warns his friends, and instead of them mindlessly leaving the camp and looking for me, they all stick close to the walls where I can’t hit. Right, of course, they’d do something like this. Real people, not NPCs.

How the hell am I gonna pick them off like this? The one peeking out of cover — the same bandit I missed — is very alert right now, and while I did hit my first two shots, this is a lot harder now that the only thing I see is the upper half of his head.

I internally debate if I should just leave my hiding spot and fight them properly, but that’s just certain death. Confidence in my power aside, I can’t handle fighting ten people at the same time. I’d get crushed in like three seconds. Four if I’m lucky. Plus, they have mages. I’d be fucked if one of them can use ice spells.

At the same time, I don’t have a lot of time before they find me. I gotta act.

Coming up with something that’s probably very stupid, I nock another arrow and shoot at the peeking bandit, missing and hitting the wall he’s hiding behind. However, this makes him take full cover, giving me a chance to rush and sneak around the camp to get them from behind, praying to God they don’t see me.

Fortunately, I manage to reach the camp and hop over the walls with my somewhat supernatural strength. Unfortunately, one of them fucking sees me do that and warns everyone that I got in, giving me little time to hide.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I curse under my breath, panicking as I try to look for a place to hide. “Where am I supposed to—”

Hearing something approaching, I barely roll away from an arrow aimed at my throat, making me quickly respond to the attack with my own arrow. Surprisingly, I strike the target square in the forehead, killing whoever they are.

“Woah…” I blink, surprised at my unnaturally quick response.

I’m quickly shaken out of my surprise as I avoid another arrow, prompting me to shoot the last remaining archer with an arrow, hitting him square in the forehead. Having the high ground, I keep shooting as fast as I possibly can, not worrying about accuracy as the swarm of bandits runs toward me, trying to cross a wooden bridge to get up to my elevation. I get one, two, three— several of them until I’m finally out of arrows, quickly switching to my lightning and targeting the heavy-armored bunch as I remember that iron and steel conduct electricity.

This, in turn, makes me less scared of anyone wearing that kind of armor once I accidentally fry one of them in it. Yes. ‘Accidentally’ because I have severely underestimated the output of my lightning. I thought it would just stun them a bit like how I stunned that bear that nearly mauled me that day, not cook them from the inside.

“By the nine!” One of the bandits flinches in fear. “A wizard?!”

Seeing this, I realize that the bandits are now far less confident in taking me on, which works in my favor. I mean, I’d be terrified if I saw one of my heavily-armored friends just die like that.

So, with them intimidated, I release another bolt of lightning as a distraction, using it to rush forward and stab the closest bandit with my sword. I leave the blade in his body and take out my dagger, slitting the throat of another bandit behind him. With the bridge being only wide enough to hold one person at a time, I manage to tear through a few more bandits as the mages struggle to get a clear target.

It is then that I realize just how slow these people are. Even the Draugrs, literal fucking zombies, were faster than that. No, more accurately, my reflexes are a lot better than they have any right to be. Not to say I’m utterly untouchable, as, despite my advantages, they manage to land a few hits on me, stabbing me in the shoulder and slashing me across the chest. Fortunately, no wound is severe besides the ice spike suddenly piercing into my thigh.

I gasp and trip forward, feeling the excruciating, freezing pain of the spell as it nearly knocks me out here and there, but I manage to remain conscious. I fall forward onto my stomach, eyes widening as another heavy-armored foe tries to stab me with his greatsword. My adrenaline helps numb the pain and prompts me to roll over and avoid the attack, grabbing his leg, electrocuting him while my other hand blasts the frost mage with a strong bolt of lightning that either kills her or knocks her out.

The armored guy is definitely dead, though, as his scorched body falls backward. The only one remaining is the other mage who prepares a spell that would surely end me in an instant in the state I’m in… if it weren’t a lightning spell.

As soon as the lightning bolt hits me, it hurts for just an instant before I feel myself energized. Power rushes through me, a feeling unlike anything I’ve felt before. It makes me lighter, sharper, and stronger than I ever was, but instead of using this newfound energy for anything, I just send it back to the mage in the form of a much larger bolt.

Instead of shocking or scorching him like the others, the charged spell just blows his head up as violently as one could imagine, killing him instantly. I shut my eyes and quickly turn my head away, not wanting to see something that gruesome, as I roll around with a gasp.

“Argh…” I grunt in agony, sitting up and staring at the ice spike lodged in my thigh. “What the fuck…?”

How the hell am I still alive? No, seriously, how? That was horrible. I screwed almost everything up.

I take deep breaths, look around, and, once I’m sure there’s nobody nearby to sneak up on me, I put my hands around the giant, freezing spike of pure ice and pull it out, prompting me to scream in agony. Knowing that passing out here would mean death, I do my best to stay awake, taking the healing potion from my side pouch to drink.

The taste is understandably terrible, but the potion does its job as the wound quickly closes up in a matter of ten seconds. Not perfectly. I’m still wounded and my thigh hurts like hell, but it’s enough to make me stand on my feet again.

I do just that with trembling legs, looking at the massacre. There were more than a dozen people here, and I somehow killed all of them.

“God…” I look at my hands. “I’m a monster.”

And not the ‘oh no, I killed people. I’m a bad person now,’ kind of monster. No, as in I’m just really fucking strong apparently. Holy shit. That had no right to go as well as it did.

“Hah…” I chuckle to myself. “I guess my fight with Farkas wasn’t a fluke after all. No wonder he said I was strong.”

I mean, to be honest, most of this was just me somehow stumbling my way to victory, but I’m still alive, so I ain’t gonna complain.

I wipe the blood off my face and head towards the mine after picking up my weapons as well as the arrows in the dead bandits’ quivers. I open the doors of the mine and enter, lamenting my idiotic, reckless endeavour of fighting all of these people in an open area, as, despite my minimal experience in actual combat, I know that fighting a group in a place like that gives them an advantage. Enclosed spaces limit them severely. Thankfully, that tiny-ass bridge helped me out.

The moment I get inside, I’m immediately hit in the back with a sword by a bandit hiding behind the door. Thankfully, my armor stops the attack from being lethal, and while it still fucking hurts, I manage to recover, turn around and blast them with a bolt of electricity, forcing them to drop their weapon.

However, just before I use my dagger to slit their throat, I hesitate, realizing that I’m fighting a kid no older than thirteen years. He doesn’t hesitate, on the other hand, and after recovering from the shock, tries to stab me with a back-up weapon sheathed on his hip.

I avoid the attack, and from there, my body moves on its own as I thrust my dagger into the boy’s heart. The ringing in my ears returns a thousandfold as I see, in real time, his eyes turning lifeless, tears of fear, regret, and anger rolling down his cheeks. Time feels like it stopped as I get off his corpse, looking down in horror at what I’ve done.

I don’t know why there’s a kid here and why he tried to kill me immediately, but I rationalize that it was either him or me, swallow the bile building up in my throat, look away, and close my heart to it. Maybe he was forced to be here. Perhaps he just wanted to be a bandit for some reason, but it ultimately doesn’t matter. He attacked me. Tried to kill me. I killed him first.

I can spare him some pity, but I won’t feel remorse for defending myself. If that makes me a bad person, then so be it.

I never claimed to be a good guy in the first place.

“That’s him!”

Drawn by the voice down the slope at the mine’s entrance, I look down at what I assume are the last few bandits in the camp. At the forefront stands their leader, an orc wearing light orcish armor and wielding a colossal greatsword way larger than anything reasonable. A hunk of metal, more like. How he could hold the damned thing is beyond me.

Behind him are three bandits. The one pointing at me looks no different than the others I killed outside— shitty fur armor and regular iron sword. Another one near him is a fire mage who looks considerably more skilled than the others I defeated, as he wears mage robes and casts what looks like one of the alteration flesh spells. The final one wears high-quality leather armor and holds two shortswords, one regular steel and the other dwarven steel.

Well, now I gotta kill them. That sword would serve me well. Or fetch a pretty penny if I decide to sell it.

“I’m only giving you one warning,” I say, pulling my dagger out of the dead child’s chest. “Drop your weapons and surrender, or you’ll end up like everyone outside.”

Even though I know this is gonna end in a fight anyway, I didn’t expect my warning to actually intimidate them, as even their leader looks nervous. What, do I look scary to them? Oh, give me a break. I’m exhausted, I’m wounded, and I’m on the verge of shitting myself from overwhelming fear. The only thing keeping me on my two feet right now is pure adrenaline.

The bandits speak to each other in hushed whispers, and eventually, their leader steps up, pointing his massive sword at me. No word needs to be said, so I prepare for battle, sparks of electricity crackling around my hand. As I formulate a plan using the last few responsive brain cells in my head, I conclude that getting rid of the pyromancer first should be my priority.

So, by first releasing a bolt at the leader and distracting him — unfortunately, not killing him like I killed every other individual in heavy armor — I rush forward at the mage, aiming to stab him in the heart with my sword, only for him to barely dodge the attack and roll away. While the orc leader is still stunned, the dual-wielding bandit attacks me from behind with a war cry, which I deflect using my dagger after twirling to face him, kick him away, and blast him with a lightning bolt.

But then I’m hit in the back by a fire bolt, which, while it doesn’t just immediately kill me, hurts me significantly as it burns a hole in my armor and scorches my back. I try to shoot back with a lightning spell, but the orc leader recovers and swings his gigantic sword at me with terrifying speed and strength.

Trying to block or deflect that would just end up with me cleaved in half, so I focus on evading instead, blasting the bastard with another lightning bolt before redirecting my attention to the pyromancer trying to burn me alive with a stream of flames. Gasping, I respond by using my own elemental powers… only for it not to respond.

And as shocking as that is, I don’t let it get to me, so I think fast and instead throw the dagger in my hand, hitting the mage square in the shoulder. He cries out in pain and stops casting his Flames spell, allowing me to get in melee range and punching him in the face as hard as I can. Due to the flesh spell, it doesn’t knock him out or kill him despite the noticeable power difference, but it leaves him disoriented just enough for me to take the dagger out of his shoulder and shove it into his heart, killing him.

But celebrating can wait as the dual-wielding bandit tries to attack me from behind again. This time, I duck under the swing, twirl around, and slash at his throat with the dagger. Blood gushes out, painting my face red as he drops his weapons and falls to the ground, dead. I straighten my stance and exhale.

“Had enough?” I growl, glaring at the orc.

Two more bandits remain, one of whom has completely lost his will to fight as he stares at me in utter fear. The orc, on the other hand, looks ready to continue the battle. However, he’s terrified as well. I dunno, maybe I am intimidating.

“What in Malacath’s name are you?” He tightens the grip on his sword.

“A mercenary,” I respond. “Now drop your weapons. Or I’m gonna have to kill you.”

His jaws clench and his eyes narrow. But then he grins.

“You think I’m afraid?” He says with a chuckle. “All orcs desire to die in combat. Your threats mean nothing—”

I don’t wait for him to finish his sentence as I’m already rushing him. He’s not entirely caught off guard as he swings his giant sword in time, but I see it coming and slide underneath it and past him, grabbing him by the foot to try to electrocute him. Once again, my lightning powers don’t work, but I had a feeling this was going to happen, so I simply pull his foot and trip him over, exploiting the weakness in his stance.

As he falls on his face, I get up, hold his leg so he stays in place, and stomp on his unarmored head. Over and over. As hard as I can. Several times until he stops moving. Until he stops making any noise. Until his head is nothing but brain matter and skull fragments, dirtying the wooden boards.

This type of barbaric brutality is something I never thought I was capable of doing, but it’s all a blur to me at this point. I ignore the disgust building up in my throat and stare at the final bandit cowering in fear against a wall. Terror overwhelms him as he scrambles up on his feet and runs away screaming, exiting the mine and trying to get as far away from me as possible.

Despite the painful ringing in my ears, it’s all quiet now. I look down at my trembling, bloodied hands, genuinely wondering if all of this is just a dream and I’m about to wake up in my apartment any second now. But this is my reality. If I really want to survive in this fucked up Dog Eat Dog world, then this sort of thing mustn’t make me bat an eye anymore.

If I weren’t feeling so morbidly peaceful at the moment, I might start screaming and crying at my own misfortune. A grand adventure? Money, power, fame? Don’t make me laugh. This is just hell.

Yet the only thing I can think about right now…

I look back down at the corpse of the bandit leader as a mirthless smile stretches across my face.

…is how easy this was.

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“Well done, Mr. Raiden. Those bandits have been a thorn in our side for quite a while.” The Jarl’s advisor says, handing me my money. “You’ve done Jarl Balgruuf and Whiterun an excellent service.”

Right after clearing out the camp, I washed up, cleaned my armor, and rested until the sun rose, then immediately headed back to Whiterun to collect my bounty. I didn’t want to waste any more time or spend another damned second in that camp. Of course, I did loot the place of all its valuables beforehand, but I barely got anything besides a couple of gems, coins, and the cool dwarven sword I picked up.

Though, considering I turned their leader’s head into mush, it was hard to get proof for my kill. So instead, I took the fire mage’s head, as he and the dual-wielding bastard were equally infamous as the orc. Lucky me, I guess.

I also asked Selene why my lightning didn’t work properly twice during the battle. Apparently, unlike how magic works here, my lightning is tied to my ‘stamina’ instead. If I’m physically exhausted, I can’t channel it properly. It’s like an actual muscle. That’s something to keep in mind. And now that I’ve leveled up, that muscle should be stronger.

Speaking of levels, leveling classes actually makes me a tad stronger physically. Like a tiny, tiny bit. A hundred levels in one class would only make me 10% stronger than I am. So the more classes I get and level up, the stronger I’ll be overall. Lots of good things to know.

Once I made it back to Whiterun, I went up to Dragonsreach to directly get my bounty from Proventus. There are no mercenary guilds or anything in Skyrim, as far as I’m aware. Or, well, I guess the companions kinda count? And the fighter’s guild in Cyrodill. Maybe? Kind of?

Anyway, the Jarl’s court posted the notice, so naturally, they’d be the ones paying me. And considering I let one of the bandits escape during my ‘episode,’ unfortunately, I’m not getting the full payment of 1250 Septims. On the other hand, I almost wiped them out, which means a lot of EXP.

And boy, am I glad I took the risk.

[Rogue] class rank up X6!

[Raiju’s Heir] class rank up X8!

[Rogue] perk gained

[Lightfooted] – Perk

You make almost no sound while walking and running.

[Raiju’s Heir] perk gained

[Lightning Rod] – Perk

During storms, you are likely to get struck by lightning.

Yeah, those perks are gonna be a lot of help. I guess for a rogue like me, fighting in the open can have its advantages. I don’t know how often it rains in Skyrim, but hopefully enough for the perk to make a difference.

Man, if I am the Dragonborn, then the Storm Call shout is gonna be so damn busted. Er, well, extra busted since, y’know, speaking things into reality is already strong enough as is. Actually, I wonder if there’s a ‘lightning’ breath shout? Food for thought.

“For sure, for sure.” I nod. “With the civil war going on and both sides hounding the Jarl, it’s hard to expect him to worry about a couple of bandits.”

“Quite.” Proventus agrees. “Though, for you to defeat them all by yourself…”

“Eh, one of them got away.” I shrug.

“And I’m sure they’ll think twice before returning to such villainy.” He says. “Regardless, you’re quite the warrior. Have you considered joining the companions, perhaps?”

“Nah, not my thing.” I decline his offer. I don’t want to be a werewolf. Hircine isn’t as bad as Molag Bal, but still, no thanks.

Before I walk away, I pause as I think of something. You know, now that I’m here, I can maybe confirm if I’m the Dragonborn or not. This is assuming the Dragonborn already passed by Whiterun, but they should have. Unless it’s me. Then I’m fucked.

“Actually, I was wondering. Rumor has it that there’s some sort of expedition to Bleak Falls Barrow?” I lie.

“Ah, yes.” Proventus nods. “The court wizard had sent someone to recover an ancient tablet. I believe he called it the dragonstone?”

Oh, thank god. I’m not the Dragonborn. Oh, that’s the best news I’ve had since showing up in this godforsaken universe.

“Though, I suppose you’re a bit too late if you wish to join her.” He adds. “She has already left Whiterun. Likely, if she’s not dead, she’s on her way back.”

Okay. Two things. First, it’s a ‘her’. The Dragonborn is a woman. I don’t know what to do with that information, but it’s certainly a fact. Second, if she’s on her way to Whiterun, then I have about three minutes and thirty-three seconds to get the fuck out of Whiterun before the first dragon attack.

I am NOT dealing with oversized argonians today.

“You don’t say…” I hum, masking my fear. “If that’s the case, then I probably shouldn’t get involved unless she did die. In which case, look for me in Riften to get that dragonstone.”

Yeah, I’m just saying that to be polite. Don’t send me any letters. I’ll use them as fuel for my campfire and completely ignore whatever urgent request you might have for me.

“Very well.” Proventus nods politely as I walk away. “Divines smile upon you.”

I wave and exit Dragonsreach, heading straight to the stables. I’m getting a carriage and getting the fuck out of here before the dragon attacks. Defeating Draugrs and killing a couple of bandits does not make me strong enough to fight a dragon. They’re not wimps like in the game— each and every one of them is basically a god. For fucks’ sake, they warp reality around them by arguing with each other.

This is way above my pay grade. And now that I’ve basically confirmed that I’m not the Dragonborn, this isn’t my responsibility anymore.

Once I make it to the nearest carriage right outside the main gate, I see him and a couple of other travelers ready to leave before I stop them. Thankfully, there’s a free seat for me.

“Hey there!” I wave, trying to sound friendly. “How much to drop me off at Riften?”

But before he can answer my question, a loud, booming roar brings everyone to their knees. The ground starts to shake uncontrollably as everyone begins to panic. Then, near the direction of the Throat of the World, a dragon soars toward the western watchtower of Whiterun.

We all see this unfold right before our very eyes. To everyone’s horror, a wave of flame consumes the watchtower of Whiterun, followed by what sounds like a roar of sadistic joy as the dragon circles around the flaming watchtower.

Oh goddamn it...