The Black Door Skyrim の小説・ストーリー

He examined it for a moment, and finally, at my urging, opened the massive door to the Black Tower. After the Black Tower's door opened, I expected to see numerous prison cells, but what greeted my eyes was an empty hall with only a central, spiraling staircase leading straight up to the top of the tower. There was a small window there, offering a glimpse of the moon. Holding up the lamp, I stepped into the Black Tower. The guard closed the massive door, leaving me with only the light in my hand and the faint moonlight pouring in from the tower's top. The entire Black Tower stood isolated, as if it were erected within the densest darkness, cut off from the world.

What is the importance of her…until many people wait at this beautiful palace too. After the great hall, they came across a black door. The only color that doesn't match the theme, is the only black door…as far as Randu knows. Goddess opened it, revealing a dark blue room, and a black roof with many decorated stars on it. They are like being on the edge of a cliff in a vast ocean, with a sky full of stars. “Is this…outside? I mean…outside this palace?” The goddess giggled. "You're funny.. later this madman will explain, he can explain it better than me. Come on in…they can sulk again. They've been waiting until they're old and impatient."

My mother didn't just leave the woods; she locked a door inside my blood, and now my poor baby was paying the price for it. "We have to leave so we can find a solution," I said, my voice hardening as I stood up, using Fenrir's shoulder for support. My black claws slowly slid back under my skin, and the gray fur vanished from my wrists. "We are going," Fenrir said, standing up beside me. He turned toward the door. "Damon! Is the path to the upper exit door clear?" I shook my head. “No. The lower exit door can't lead us out of here. Let's take the lower. I know this route, remember?”

Far above, the sky was already beginning to dim at the edges, like a lid lowering over an eye that didn’t sleep. On the threshold, Kaelira paused and spoke not to Zevran or Taren but to the world itself. “When the Black Moon rises,” she said, “let it watch.” And then, without looking back, she added the only promise that felt like truth: “We’re coming for you.” The arch shivered. The Court’s gates loomed. Somewhere ahead, a war-scar smiled. The bond thrummed once—thin, fierce, alive. And the three of them walked into winter.

“You will only hurt yourself from doing that and nothing is going to happen to that door; you will only get yourself tired.” I don’t want to hear your logic, I just want result, so am not stopping, kay! I Want to save our people. And I don’t want to know how to. “Do you know what this are made of? You not saving them, you are killing them,” “What do you mean?” I asked The doors are made of monolith of black iron; its surface engraved with ancient runes that repels force. Everything shattered against it, it is as solid as the bedrock beneath the earth, it defied leverage, defied magic, defied will.

This was the moment, the gateway to my future. Black cast a peculiar glance in my direction before proceeding to open the door, revealing an intoxicating scent that surpassed any I had ever experienced. Little did I know that behind that very door awaited my ultimate downfall.

Just my steps and the crack of twigs underfoot. The coordinates lead me to the west foundation—once the billiard room, now rubble and overgrowth. I dig under a charred wooden board. My crowbar hits metal. A half-buried iron door. I shine the flashlight. Rust and thick dust cover it. In the center, the Blackwell sigil: three interlocking rings—one empty, one blood-filled, one burned. I force the door open. The screech echoes in my head, but when it’s fully open, cold air rushes out like the breath of the underworld.

"Because it's not a weapon, boy. It's a god. Or what's left of one. Bound in steel, carved with the bones of the first cursed child. We don't speak its name because names are doors, and doors open things we're not always ready to face." "And you think it can cut a bond like Zeina's?" Dirus stepped closer, eyes gleaming with something ancient and hungry. "If it can't... nothing can." We walked for hours more, though time had lost meaning. Downward, always downward, until the stone turned glassy, and the air hummed like a held breath. Then finally, we reached it. The Black Altar. A chamber carved into the earth's heart, where no sun had ever touched. The ceiling rose in jagged teeth. At its ce

It disappeared and the gates open. “She, does he means Ana or the girl in black?” Van thought. Van and Cara are the first to enter the gates. Kirsten and the rest hesitated, yet no one wants to be left out here with the metal face so they follow with their eyes closed. Van and the rest then emerge into a vast chamber or a void perhaps for there is no floors, walls or ceilings here. There are only doors here, lots and lots of doors floating around like hooded ghosts. Van approaches the nearest one. The door must be more than eight feet tall for it towers above Van’s head. Carved around the decorated knocker is an inscription:

“Are, are you trying to kill me!?” He didn’t answer, instead, he offered his hand. I accepted it and he helped me get up. He then walked towards the now opened door and said, “This is the door to Estenaethria.” I peeked down at the door again, horrified. “This!?” I pointed at the 'deep and dark hole' on the floor. The horror never left my face. “This is a damn sink hole!”