Elder Scrolls Dremora Novels & Stories

“What happened Ellora?” Ellora took a while before she sighed, carrying on. “Dormut was home to some of the rarest materials throughout the dimensions. While he wasn’t there, his followers carried on with his quest. One of them happened to slip up, and that’s when we found out that he was mining our lands of the minerals. Upon hearing that we’d captured his followers, he made his return, bringing with him magic we’d never before seen. He’d somehow found out about merging that magic with the minerals from our land, but something must’ve gone wrong with his spells because before we knew it, he’d caused a world ending event. With our world collapsing in on itself, I had to think quickly, which

September 12, 2005 – 09:50 (Winnipeg Time) “Emery! Blue Thunder! Don’t stay there, come in!” said Ellya, appearing in front of them. “For a minute, we weren't sure if we were at the right place!” said Coralis. “Don’t get fooled by what you see, Yalor has been experimenting all night with wards and glamours.” “That certainly explains the smell of elven herbs,” said Eva.

The truth burns: the Herald is Elara’s kin, corrupted by betrayal, seeking to unmake her legacy. Kalia’s orb sparks, her aura flaring, her eyes distant, a vision seizing her. “Aelys!” she gasps, “the Herald—it’s gathering relics on a rift-torn world, unraveling the Veil!” Her relic pulses, the Herald’s hymn echoing: “Lumora falls, child—your cosmos is mine.” The archive trembles, void-wraiths breaching the dome, their claws slashing. I shield Kalia, my blade striking a wraith, my hymn faltering, my mortal heart straining. The relic’s hymn surges, its starlight wounding me, pain erupting, Lena’s spark flickering. “Aelys!” Kalia cries, her orb flaring, her hymn unsteady but fierce, felling a w

With my heart racing, I struggled. I exclaimed, "Lena, please!" "You know me! We've fought side by side for years!" Lena paused, for only a moment. Taking advantage, Damon pinned her down after knocking her to the ground. "Melissa!" he exclaimed. "We can’t win this!" He was correct. We were losing. Then— The battleground erupted in a dazzling blast of electricity. Their bodies shook as the corrupted warriors froze. Eldric emerged with bright eyes. It was "I found it!" he said. "The source of Astrael’s corruption! It’s a relic!"

Akillim sucks in a chunk of air, and exhales loudly, while watching the little trolls hurry away with his meal. "I found that under a tree trunk, it was dead and I never thought it was someone's." "Grods are fledglings of trolls," Ceira stomps down. "they hide their catch from the adults." "And what are you doing here?" Akillim, shifting his strength from his sprinting dinner, to the elf beside him. "I thought I told you clearly to stay far away from me?" Folding both his arms, he looks beyond her beautiful woven red hair, into her oval shaped blue eyes, anticipating an answer.

He was thrown across the chamber, but instead of falling, he disappeared into the darkness surrounding the broken throne. “He's running,” Aurelius said. “No,” Elara replied. She looked toward the staircase. “He's going for the original Flame.” The realization hit me immediately. If Eryndor reached the source beneath Dark Hollow, he would no longer need Damian as a vessel because he could attempt to merge directly with the Flame itself. Damian grabbed my hand. “Then we stop him.” We ran toward the staircase together, with Aurelius and Malachor following behind us while Elara and the First King remained above to hold back the collapsing chamber. As we descended, the temperature dropped rapidly

Not when Draven stood between us like the devil himself ripped straight from the stories meant to scare young pups into obedience. Except he was real. And worse, he was having fun. Elias pushed away from the altar with a snarl, folding over when his leg gave out again. Nora caught him, only barely steady on her own feet. I could see the shake in her arms, the way her flames stuttered around her fingers. She was on fumes. We all were. Draven didn’t miss it. Of course, he didn’t. “Is this the best Obscura has to offer?” he asked, striding towards them with a shake of his head. “A dragon too young to remember what she is, a crippled heir, and a mutt with more bark than bite?”

​The Grand Assessor gave a final, erratic click of its internal stamps, its amber light dying out as its multi-jointed frame collapsed forward into the zinc slush, breaking the conveyor belt’s drive chains and sending the entire sixty-fifth tier tilting violently toward the lower sulfur-river. ​Elara didn't wait for the platform to fall. She lunged over the edge of the melting machine frame, her silver-streaked hair whipping around her shoulders as she dropped straight toward the rushing black current below where Damon’s human body was drifting. ​She caught the edge of the severed mechanical arm with her right hand, her bare fingers tearing into the broken brass gears to anchor herself again

His presence was scorching - like standing too close to the sun. The others sat in the peripheral shadows: Asmodan Veythar, the Demon Minister, draped in velvet with a smile that never reached his eyes. Tharion Embervault, the Dragon Treasurer, his scaled form glinting crimson-gold. Lady Elaris Thornveil, the Fae Emissary, beautiful and merciless. Morthos Gravemind, the Necromancer Overseer, skeletal fingers resting on bone-white arms. Aeris Stormrend, the Elemental Warden, whose form flickered between solid and storm. And finally, Nymera of the Veil, the Oracle of Time, her eyes clouded with constellations.

As he spoke, the Council's expressions darkened, concern deepening to alarm. Councilor Mora’s fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the table. She confirmed, "This scholar arranged passage from the high elves to us? Specifically coming to the Greenways to continue her research?" Eliad confirmed, "According to the dwarf, yes, she had apparently spent time with the high elves at the Summit of D'Geanth, working in their archives." Councilor Iora frowned, “Those absent-minded scholars of ours are probably so focused on whatever they’re studying that they either forgot to tell us or forgot all about her expected arrival!”