Blue crab blood spatters as the third mutated claw is cut off, it loses its grip on the Wabbajack too, sending it spinning up into the air, making Michael nervous whenever its tip is pointed in his direction.
His worries are justified too, as after its third rotation, another projectile it fired directly at Michael. At that moment, Michael realises that not all the Prince's were acting honourably, chiefly, Sheogorath, who seemed to be controlling the Wabbajack instead of the King Mud Crab.
He uses [Counter Spell] at the last second to block it, but it ends up being futile, as a shadow throws itself between Michael and the attack. "Darth!?"
His shadowy familiar gets hit, causing its form to bubble and morph, but Darth disappears before Michael could see the final result... The familiar bond was still there, so Darth wasn't dead... He just hoped the changes wouldn't be too drastic.
Shaking his head, he uses a cloth and wraps it around the Wabbajack to prevent it from going to Hircine, wanting to destroy it in the Aetherium Forge to prevent any more mother fuckin' dismembered baby hands from being created and or harvested, depending on where they actually came from.
He throws it into his inventory and finally turns his attention to Sheogorath's Champion, who was basically completely defenceless against Michael who was still perched on its back.
"Alright, let's end this." he mutters, retrieving his Aetherium Pickaxe and beginning to dig a hole in its shell. Once he breaches into the crab's flesh, he points a finger down and chants, "Laguna Blade." a couple times, completely frying the crab from the inside out, causing it to collapse in on itself.
With its death, all the remaining mud crabs go into what could only be called a feeding frenzy, devouring everything and anything nearby, including their own allies... This combined with Solitude's continued assault all but annihilates the mud crab threat, leaving man the victor in the competition between man and crab...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
A couple hours after the battle, once High King Torygg was sure another attack wouldn't be coming, a celebration is thrown... Though, this was more to get the citizens away from the gate so that they wouldn't see the mountain of baby hands that was once the wall. If news of this became widespread, Solitude might even become a 'cursed city', a place travellers all around Tamriel would refuse to visit, heavily hitting both the economy, foreign relations, and Skyrim's reputation as a whole, Solitude being the Capital.
Michael was basically forced to stay, being one of the 'heroes' of the day, preventing him from immediately hunting more Champions. Torygg had him stay and announced his name, among others, that'd helped in the defence of Solitude, afterwards granting him a large amount of gold as a reward.
He was eventually able to pry himself away so he could begin hunting Champions again... But first, updating his status.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name : Michael Tahlin
Rank : Legend
Stats :
Strength : 72.5 > 82.4
Agility : 190.6 > 218.4
Intelligence : 116.9 > 134.9
Birthsign : The Mage
Familiar : Darth, Dark Monolith Parasite
Abilities :
[The Mage] : Enables user to learn all magic-based skills 20% faster.
[Gandalfr] : Enables user to utilise any weapon at two ranks above their current proficiency while granting them the knowledge necessary to use them. While wielding a weapon, temporarily gain +100% in all stats.
[Vanntalfdir] : Enables user to walk on liquids as if they were solid surfaces, can be activated at will but continuously drains mana to function.
[Language Comprehension] : Enables user to understand all spoken tongues, and increase the rate of which they learn reading and writing.
[Adept Mana Manipulation] : Allows user more control over his magic, spells, and some abilities. Mana efficiency and control of power is increased.
[Pain Tolerence] : Allows user to endure great amounts of pain with little to no negative effects as a result.
[Adept basic Swordsmanship(Two handed swords/One handed swords)] : Determines how skilful the user is when handling swords.
[Adept basic Dagger techniques(Single edge, curved, straight, double edge.)] : Determines how skilful the user is when handling daggers.
[Desensitized] : Things of a violent or shocking nature fail to draw a reaction like they used to. Emotions are dulled somewhat and user is more easily able to think and rationalize in high stress situations.
Affinities :
[Lesser Water Affinity], [Fire Affinity], [Lesser Space Affinity], [Lesser Darkness Affinity], [Ice Affinity]
Spirits :
Commoner Tier :
Shadow Shaman : Lvl MAX
Slark : Lvl MAX
Riki : Lvl MAX
Hero Tier :
Anti-Mage : Lvl MAX
Lina : Lvl MAX
Winter Wyvern : Lvl MAX
Legend Tier :
Rubick : Lvl MAX
Silencer : Lvl 17 > MAX
Magic :
Tamrielic
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With his Silencer Spirit finally maxed out, he had a new Spirit to pick, along with the roulette wheel to deal with. He quickly goes through it, but finds that his apathy towards it is unfounded due to the things he'd acquired from it.
A Mystic Staff, a very expensive staff that'd massively enhance your hero's Intelligence in the game.
A Blink Dagger, one of the most useful items in Dota 2, in Michael honest opinion. It'd allow your hero to blink around in a manner not all that dissimilar to Anti-Mage, with the exception that taking any damage would disable its ability for a limited time.
Lastly, was the artifact called Cloak of Flames. Which increased your hero's armour while also covering them in flames. Michael would have to test it further to make sure it wouldn't burn both enemies and allies, but he was pretty happy with it and the other items regardless.
Grinning like an excited child, he turns his attention toward the list of available Spirits he could pick from... Again, the options were both interesting and limited. The power disparity and usefulness between them were massively different, especially with what Michael wanted to achieve.
Kunkka, Juggernaut, Dragon Knight, Lich, Necropphos... In the end, Michael decided to leave it up to chance, not really knowing who would be the best pick. He draws a circle in the dirt and writes the names of the heroes around it before tossing a stick in the air.
It drops, and its point lands in a section... Kunkka?
...
Hmm, then again, Juggernaut was looking good...
Ugh, fine, go hard or go home, right?
He selects Kunkka.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spirit : Kunkka
Level : 1
Abilities :
Admiral Qualities (Rank 0) : Gives the user inherent charisma when speaking to groups of people. Grants people under user's command a bonus to their damage, attack speed, and movement speed.
Torrent (Rank 0) : Summons a large torrent of water to shoot from the ground, lifting and stunning enemies caught in it.
TideBringer (Rank 1) : Enchants user's sword with Tidebringer's essence of the sea, making their next strike also hit nearby enemies.
X Marks The Spot (Rank 0) : User marks a target with an X, causing them to return to the same location after a few seconds, no matter what.
GhostShip (Rank 0) : Summons Kunkka's ghost ship, massively boosting the vitality of allies on it. Any collisions are dealt massive damage. Requires constant mana to maintain.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hmm, yeah, he probably should have expected the charisma bonuses since Kunkka was the Admiral of a navy. GhostShip is different from what he remembers... The description makes it sound like he could actually sail around on it...? Still, he wondered if crashing the thing into a Dragon would kill it. He had no idea how big the ship would be, but he was looking forward to finding out.
TideBringer was also a big surprise. Sure, it was stupidly powerful in the game, but he'd already seen some abilities get nerfed. He was glad to see that TideBringer wasn't one of them.
Though, he was a bit put out that he hadn't received the legendary blade. That meant that any other legendary weapons that are involved in abilities wouldn't be gained. He was thankful that he hadn't wasted any Spirit slots on mechanical heroes that required him to build stuff.
"Now, let's go test this out on some Daedri-Oh, shit!... Darth! What happened to you!?" he abruptly exclaims as his familiar appears before him...
Of course, Darth doesn't say anything, as he'd been changed from a shadowy hand to a shadowy foot...
"For the love of god, if I have to go around hunting fucking exodia cards to fix this shit I'm going to go crazy!"
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After Charlotte had scoured Riften for any traces of the enemy Champions, she left and got back on the road after hearing of a black armoured warrior that was harassing Stormcloak caravans heading to and from Windhelm.
She'd only faced a single Champion thus far, and so was wondering if she should have gone to Markarth in the first place... Hopefully, Clavicus Vile wouldn't be too dissatisfied with her failure... Or at least, enough so to prevent him from punishing her.
She continued along the road for a few hours, riding a horse she'd 'dishonourably' acquired from the Riften stables. On the way, she did encounter a few caravans, most of which looked unharmed, despite the rumours she'd been hearing.
Upon asking them, she found out that the only caravans being attacked were those that had large groups of guards and soldiers accompanying them. One caravan had even encountered the dreaded 'Black Bandit', as the person had begun to be called.
The rumours continue from there, some saying that the man was completely immune to any harm, arrows, spells, blades, and anything else you could think of would only bounce off of his black armour, doing almost nothing to him.
Her master had made her research Daedric artifacts in preparation for this 'Hunt', so she was quickly able to figure out just who was causing all of this trouble. The Champion of Boethiah, who was likely wearing the Ebony Mail.
From what she knew, and what she heard from the travellers on the road, the armour granted its wearing incredible protection, along with assisting them while sneaking and granting them the ability to passively harm nearby opponents without them even noticing.
From the tomes Clavicus got her to acquire, the Ebony Mail essentially poisoned anyone nearby the wearer. It was a slow, insidious killer, something that allowed the victims to remain unaware until they started vomiting sickly blood. If she was going to fight against such an artifact, she needed to figure out just how it worked, and create some countermeasures against it
Sure, she wore the Masque of Clavicus Vile, which should make any airborne poison useless against her, but that didn't mean she was safe. Plus, her injuries from the previous fight hadn't yet healed, leaving her at a distinct disadvantage should the Champion of Boethiah prove stronger than expected.
Then again, she couldn't flee or refuse to fight. Her soul was already bound, so any attempts at subterfuge or thoughts of betrayal would be readily apparent to her master. Even if he tasked her to kill a Dragon, or say, Michael, she'd have to do it regardless of her own feelings.
With her mood thoroughly soured at the thought of the despicable actions she had been forced to take, and would continue to take, she continues her journey to Windhelm.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Karakis gives a vicious grin as he cuts down the last remaining Stormcloak soldier in the retinue. As a Nord himself, there was no greater honour than to fight other honourable warriors. This was something he simply couldn't find anywhere else, even the thought of fighting against those Imperial dogs in Solitude sickened him. There was no honour to be found there... But here? There was even the chance to face Ulfric Stormcloak, a war hero of great renown, with an even greater voice.
Sure, his loyalty to Boethiah was probably misplaced, especially with his current mindset, but you take the hand you're given... It wasn't like he could turn back now, the Ebony Mail had all but ruined his body, and any attempt to take it off would probably kill him... The poison it generated to kill his enemies had also affected him. He was unaware of this until the physical effects started cropping up...
Honestly, he looked like a sickly vampire, with snow-white pale skin and blackish green veins visible all over his body from where the poison had integrated itself with his blood. That wasn't the worst part of it however, that honour belonged to the fact that he couldn't turn off the poison the armour generated, causing anyone who got near him to slowly die...
This left him unable to enter towns, villages, or any kind of civilized society that didn't worship Boethiah, because of course the poison didn't affect her worshippers... All he had left now was to try and die honourably in battle in a vain attempt to enter Sovngarde. Hopefully, with great enough deeds Shor would tear him from Boethiah's grasp and grant him salvation... Even if he thought such an occurrence would be very unlikely.
He shakes his head to rid himself of the sombre emotions plaguing him and looks up, determined to go find the next group of soldiers to fight... Currently, he was right next to one of the bigger farms that helped feed Windhelm, it was only a few miles from the ancient city, so he planned to stay on this road for however long it took.
Fortunately, he wouldn't have to wait long for a battle...
In the distance a short robed figure walks toward him, a large black tome held under one arm while a staff was gripped in the other. "Hm? You must be the Squid-head's boy." he says with little respect for the prince they represent.
The robed figure lowers its hood, revealing itself to be a wood elf with completely black eyes. The Black Book seems to have already affected them to a large extent. Looks like his Ebony Mail wasn't the only double-edged artifact in play. Though, this thought brought little comfort.
"And you, Nord, under the vicious hermaphrodite. I wonder, do you give it or receive it? Ah, both then?" the wood elf mockingly states.
Karakis laughs, not at all upset by the insult, "You wish to talk about sex with me, milk-drinker? You look like your balls dropped the other way! And let's not get started with that, lest I remind you of who you serve. I'd rather take it up the arse than in every hole by Oblivion-damned tentacles!"
Hope you bois liked the chap, if I missed anything please let me know. Thanks!
Also, thanks to my patrons for their support :
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