Elder Scrolls Dremora Novels & Stories

Bethel sounded almost deranged. Seraphina looked from Bethel to Rose and Melanie who were all stood waiting. Seraphina felt her cheeks flush under their stares and then slowly started to pull the arms of her dress down to reveal the large silver dragon that started on her left shoulder and gradually made its way across her chest, stopping slightly before where her Dhampir markings sat.

asked Sekora looking back at D2. “When you are defeated, you are sent to the Advent void and trapped there for eternity.” Said D2 letting go of Sekora. Then Elsa hit the bubbling and gaseous pools of fire below and melted away. Everyone watched as there was nothing more they could do for their fallen comrade and friend. “No Elsa!” screamed Sekora as anger, rage and power surged through her body. “Your going to pay Kariya” She said, then all five elemental marks an another mark like a white swirl appeared on her arm, her necklace started glowing like crazy and her armor changed.

They hugged for a little while before they left themselves, the tiny faires still perching on Elle shoulders. Elle then turned back to face the other four with a big smile on her face, "You probably don't know who this is right?" Mamock asked pointing at the strange face standing beside her and Elle just nodded with a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm Demi, a halfling" the strange man introduced himself while stretching out his hand for a handshake. Elle grabbed his hand with a smile on her face "I'm Elle, the life force" the man smile with a nod.

Archmage Anderson never took the trio seriously and after looking at them for a while, he summoned a few more elites then returned to the center of the swirling cloud of mana. As for Kirou and the two lady elves, they were busy fighting back against the Murloc elites summoned by Anderson. While they weren't hard to defeat, it was taking the trio some time to get through them. And as for the new set summoned by Anderson, Kirou saw when they were summoned and couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows.

she asked, not wanting to believe it was possible, but she didn’t see any alternative either, what with the dragon being gone and having not taken off from the mountain behind him. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said, folding his arms across his muscular chest again. “I’m Slate Everclaw. I come from a long line of shifter dragons. We used to occupy the land where your kingdom and the other eleven are now located, before we were robbed of our most precious treasure, one that allowed my people to withstand the human threats that were slowly encroaching on our lands. Without the gem, my kind cannot transform without the moon in the sky. So… we were forced to take to the mountains. We

“We’ve seen signs. Monsters moving through dreamscape borders. Power waking up in places long buried.” The Elders murmur among themselves and then the Dremari suddenly appears. Like wind through shadow, he materializes beside the central brazier. His eyes which are liquid silver, land on both me and Lucien. “You’re finally what the prophecy warned us about,” he says. “The awakened flame and storm.” I take a step forward. “And that’s supposed to fix the world?” “No,” the Dremari replies. “It breaks the seals.” My breath catches. “What seals?”

Although many things had happened in just one day, and many people had sneaked into the Godly Secret Realm, it was a pleasant surprise to have recruited an elixir refiner. Darryl smiled and said, "You're welcome." Cormac nodded and said politely, "We've been here for a while. I don't know where the other intruders are. Would you like to go with me to search for them?" As he spoke, his eyes were filled with anticipation. Darryl scratched his head, pretending to be embarrassed. "Why don't you go? I want to rest." There was the Heavenly Marrow Golden Elixir from the Icy Jade Stone under the altar that he had not yet gotten. How could Darryl go with them?

They cheer and weep and call me saint and savior and bride. I stare straight ahead. The roses look like splashes of blood against the snow. At the northern gate waits a second cage-wagon, larger, drawn by eight black horses that steam and stamp. The bars are carved with runes that hurt to look at. Eldorian emissaries stand beside it (tall, pale, armor like liquid night, eyes glowing faint violet). Their skin is marked with moving runes that crawl like living tattoos. One steps forward (female, wings like fractured glass folded against her back).

The hall descended into absolute silence, and several seconds later Elira bowed abruptly before fleeing toward the eastern exits with the speed of someone attempting to outrun divine judgment, while Halrem calmly turned back toward the throne platform as though nothing unusual had occurred. Unfortunately, Draevor followed immediately, as he invariably did. “You dismantled her socially in under three minutes.” “She lacked discipline.” “You looked murderous.” “She touched your sleeve.” The words escaped before Halrem could stop them, a fatal mistake that brought her to an immediate halt, while behind them several nobles appeared to lose consciousness on a spiritual level and Draevor’s expressi

The city of Ashenrealm did not sleep that night. Smoke drifted through narrow streets. Guards patrolled rooftops. Citizens whispered of shadows and dragons, of curses returning, of omens written in ash. Inside the Obsidian Spire, Elara stood by the tall window of her chamber, staring out at the glowing rivers of molten rock below. Her encounter with the cloaked figure still lingered in her mind: his voice, his confidence, the way he looked at her, not with fear but recognition.