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Son of Molag-bal: the Dragonborn comes

Discussion in 'Transfer' started by Daemonazrael320, Feb 13, 2018.

  1. ”what shall we do with him? Call for the Jarl?” “The Jarl won’t know what we should do with this beast. We should call for one of the vigils of Stendar.” “They won’t get here fast enough”

    The townsfolk of Riverwood we’re chatting up a storm it was enough to give their prisoner an even worse headache. He was the son of a Daedric prince, a daemon that looked more man than Daedra. He should have never trusted his uncle Sanguine, he had gotten himself into far more trouble with beasts and bandits than he wanted to. What’s worse, his actions had alerted his Father, Molag-bal, to his presence in Nirn it was only a matter of time before he sent someone to collect him and he didn’t want to return to coldharbour. Azrael had gotten himself into quite the pickle, chained to a post in the best jail that Riverwood could make. His red locks lay in a mess on his head blocking some of his gaze, he was still weak and wounded, what’s was to come next?
     
  2. The Dragonborn stalked the Riverwood in her custom-made light armor. She'd been delivering a package to Orgnar for Delphine--the incompetent barkeep needed something for the books, or so Delphine had explained. Aine didn't care either way. She'd heard something disturbing on her way to Riverwood, and she was determined to figure it out.

    Overhearing the townsfolk chatter, Aine quickly made her way to the prison where a man with messy red hair lay chained to a post. The guards made to stop her approach, but with one look they backed down. Whether they recognized her as Dragonborn or simply didn't want to mess with a lone traveler, they were smart enough either way to let her pass.

    She stood over the man just feet away from him. With a pensive expression, Aine squatted so as to better see the man's face. "Your name?" Aine asked gently, but firmly.
     
  3. Azrael lay there his chains rattling with slight movements as the new stranger approached. She was a warrior and a beautiful one at that but she’d never hear that from him. She asked him his name, “Azrael....” he spoke weakly, they had given him nothing of food or drink since he had gotten here. His throat was dry and his belly empty. He had yet to thrust this new face, his bright red eyes glaring at her through the strands of his hair. “Tell me.... are you my executioner?” He chuckled. “Of course not. The guards wouldn’t have stopped you just a moment ago if you were. So then who are you?
     
    #3 Daemonazrael320, Feb 14, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 14, 2018
  4. Aine lowered her hood--Dark Brotherhood make--and met Azrael's glare with a steady calm. Her Nordic features, white blond hair and pale blue eyes contrasted with the dark layers of clothing and armor that hugged her curvy, toned body. A pale scar, barely noticeable against the paleness of her skin, lined her right cheekbone--a gift from a rather annoying dragon priest that her rudimentary skill in Restoration magic hadn't been able to heal completely.

    Studying the man before her, she felt her heartbeat kick up a notch. His unique features were stunning, and Aine had seen plenty of unique people. His glare sent a shiver through her that she fought to hide; no matter how many enemies she faced, she was still effected by fear. It reminded her that she was still human, and she clung to that feeling, even if she never acted on that fear. And this man had a fierce presence even in his current condition. Prisoners were never treated well in Skyrim. She would know.

    "No executioner, no. Though I've done plenty of that on the side..." she murmured casually. Being Dragonborn had its perks, but it also had its abundance of chores and responsibilities. "You can call me Aine," she answered Azrael's question with a soft smile, conveniently leaving out that she was Dragonborn. It wasn't something boasted about to strange men others claimed to be Daedra. "Azrael, have you deserved these chains?"
     
  5. He chuckled. “The townsfolk certainly think so. See I got drunk with my Uncle Sam last night which caused us to get into some interesting trouble... next thing I know I’m stumbling wounded into a village only to be chained up cause I smell of Daedra.” His dark laugh echoed throughout the room. “I assumed when you walked in here my dear uncle sithis called for my death. But I feel you have something that belongs to my dear old Dad.” He calmed his laughter. “You can tell that old buzzard that I’m not coming back to oblivion. I’d rather die here than be his little pawn on his chess board.” The darkness swirled around him at his rage arms covering themselves in daedric armor as he started to break them but his strength failed him. There was a large gash on his chest that was still healing over, his cloths showing his blood had been spilling forth for some time. If he were a normal man he’d be dead by now
     
  6. Aine's gaze darkened as she listened to Azrael's words, and she tensed as Daedric armor started to appear. She felt the old dragon words in the back of her throat, ready to use, but this Daedra had been weakened. The gash on his chest bled red, and her eyes narrowed on him, assessing, suspicious.

    "Your first mistake was drinking with Sam," Aine said, not having moved from her crouch in front of Azrael. The guards had run up to them at Azrael's show of power, but Aine just waved them away. They hesitated, but one of the guards muttered something about the "damn Dragonborn" and they retreated back to the doorway. Aine continued speaking as if the guards hadn't spoken.

    "That man is always trouble. Your second mistake was assuming Sithis cared about your death at all and that you'd see me coming if he had called for your death. Your third mistake? Assuming I give a damn about what your dad thinks, whichever Daedra he is. I am no pawn. I am merely here to make sure you don't make more trouble for Skyrim's inhabitants. Now. Are you going to cooperate with me? Or am I going to have to coerce you?" Aine's voice was firm, passionate, but her body language told a different story: relaxed, unhurried, unafraid. It was how she approached all rabid animals in her travels, and it seemed appropriate to treat Azrael the same way. A slight smile curved her lips at that thought.
     
  7. As the Daedra listened to her talk down on him like a chained beast, it only made him more and more angry. “You’re first mistake was assuming you know everything about the Daedric princes, especially Molag-bal.” he glared at her more as his power surged again. “Either you free me or once I’ve finish healing I free myself. All I want is to have my fun before My father tries to drag me back to coldharbour. If you mortals want to get in my way I won’t hesitate to fight back. And as for you Dragonborn.... “ he grinned. “Your first on my list. I’ve been looking for you since I’ve left coldharbour.” He winced for a moment feeling pain the darkness he commanded vanished. His head hung low, the strained chains relaxing he was getting weaker. His wound still slowly healing, but he had lost his consciousness his body protecting him from straining himself and causing him any more pain.
     
    #7 Daemonazrael320, Feb 14, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 14, 2018
  8. Gritting her teeth at Azrael's angry words, Aine struggled to keep her calm. He was acting like a spoiled brat--a spoiled brat with the power of a daedra with little to no care for the people of Skyrim. He strained against the chains toward her, and she tensed again, but stood her ground. His last words before he fell unconscious chilled her to the core. He'd been looking for her? A deep frown settled on her face as Azrael fell back against the post he was tied to. He needed to heal. He needed food and water. But dare she give him the things he needed? This dangerous man?

    "... bring him food and water," she finally ordered the guards, standing from her crouch over Azrael. The guards gaped at her, unsure they heard her correctly. Turning to face them, she gave them a challenging look. "The daedra hasn't harmed anyone, yet. But he might when he escapes--and he will escape. We can't keep him here. Best not to antagonize him further, no?" she finished, brow raising expectantly. After a moment, one of the guards grumbled away to do her bidding.

    With a short nod, Aine knelt over Azrael, closer than she would have had he been conscious. Reaching a steady hand out to hover over the wound in his chest, Aine cast Healing Hands, the most basic of Restoration spells for others, and one of the only Restoration spells she knew. Getting hurt enough to heal had never been on her agenda. Illusion magic, however...

    She watched the wound begin to close, but she was out of strength before she could finish the healing. The wound was deep, deadly for mortal men, and she was under no illusion that she'd be able to heal him fully. She might, however, heal him just enough to get him to leave Riverwood once he woke again.
     
  9. “Hero.....” a dark chilling voice filled the air. “Obey your master champion and bring the boy to my alter.” The voice was that of Molag Bal the daedric lord of Domination. “My son needs to be punished for his disobedience! Bring him to me.... Now!” The voice then faded away and his presence vanished away. “No.... father.... I don’t want to go back.... “ the young Daedra called in his unconsciousness. There was something in his voice that wasn’t common in Daedra, fear. What was he more afraid of? Going back to his father? Or was it something more?

    It was hours later before he woke next. He could feel his strength returning and food and water lay before him. He looked around for Aine but saw her nowhere. “Hmph.... I’ll just have to find that beautiful girl later...” he said with a grin breaking his chains and digging into the food. The food was probably her doing to begin with so there was a few things to thank her for. But he had other desires with her of a more pleasurable nature.
     
  10. Molag Bal's familiar voice spoke in her mind, and she shivered, a flash of defiance in her eyes at his words. She was no slave. She may be his champion, but her loyalty to Daedra was tenuous at best. But he'd rewarded her well enough, before... Aine narrowed her eyes at the unconscious Azrael, then stood. She had decisions to make, and she wouldn't make them well here. Spinning on her heal, Aine stalked out of the guard house just as the guard returned with food and water for the son of Molag Bal. That thought practically had her growling, and she pulled up her hood to hide her annoyed expression as she made her way to Gerdur. She needed some consultation.

    Hours later and covered in sweat, Aine walked down the mill's ramp. Having stripped down to her thin under camisole, Aine thanks Gerdur for letting her work out her frustration on her mill, to which Gerdur laughed and thanked Aine back. "The Dragonborn did my work for me. You'll hear no complaints from me," she called after her, shaking her head at Aine's back.

    Making her way to the little stream that ran through Riverwood, Aine knelt by the edge, scooping up handfuls of cool water and splashing her face and neck, the water dripping down into the neckline of her undershirt. She thought she'd made her decision, but she knew that she'd just have to trust her instinct, and that changed every moment. Sighing she closed her eyes, gathering strength before she faced the son of a daedra again.
     
  11. He chuckled a bit after finishing his meal. He stood slowly the shadows dancing at his will as his power returned to him. He looked down at his clothing torn and ruined from his escapade with his dear uncle. “I’ll have to pay Sam back for that one.. but I guess I’ll have to find something presentable.” He snapped his fingers taking his breastplate over the ripped shirt. “Now let’s see where we are” he started walking out of the room he was in past the guards. “Thank you gentlemen for your not so pleasant hospitality” he gave them a glare, Making them shake, it made him laugh as he walked out the door looking around Riverwood. “Now I know she’s still here.... the mace is close” he slowly down the road towards Gerdur’s house whistling a little tune. He smirked a little catching a glimpse of her by the water. “Well well what’s a beautiful flower like you doing out here all by herself.” He teased knowing full well a nord wasn’t someone to call a flower
     
    #11 Daemonazrael320, Feb 15, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 15, 2018
  12. Aine froze as she heard the daedra's voice, and she opened her eyes as she slowly stood to face Azrael. He smirked at her, eyeing her like she was a prize, and she didn't very well like it. Raising a brow, she folded her arm over her chest, deepening her cleavage under the low camisole.

    "Nice outfit," was all she said in response, treating him to a vaguely mocking smile. She gave him a lazy, slow once over, her eyes catching on the bulge in his pants before meeting his red eyes once more. "Your father wants me to take you to him," she added after she'd kept her expression carefully unimpressed, though her feelings were anything but. A lot could be said about this man, but unimpressive was not one of them.
     
  13. “Fear the Daedric prince of domination they say” he said with a cold tone but his grin never left his face. “He is not the one you should be calling master. Would you believe my father tries to keep me down because he fears me?” He chuckled a bit walking closer to her, “I’ve taken many of his followers from him. I’ve stolen souls from his weak grasp. For the lord of domination, he has a very lenient grasp on his possessions.” He gently placed a hand on her head. His gauntlet vanishing away as he felt her blond hair between his fingers. “I could use that mace my dear dragon, With it I could take everything from him.” He took hold of her hair giving it a yank Making her look up at him. “ but I find myself wanting something else. And I’m sure you won’t have any need for your ‘voice’” he let go of her hair before grabbing hold of her neck and pinning her to the ground. “Let’s see what you have under there beautiful?” He reached for her only clothing grabbing hold threatening to rip it from her body
     
  14. The coldness in Azrael's voice set off an alarm within her, but she held her ground as his hand caressed her hair. The more he spoke, the more information he gave her, and that had been her intent. How was she supposed to turn in a man she hardly knew to the Daedric prince Molag Bal? She held no more love for that prince than she did for the Thalmor.

    He yanked on her hair, forcing her eyes up to him as he stepped closer, her neck bared vulnerably to the red-haired devil. So he wants the mace, she realized with surprise just before his hand closed over her neck. Her hand flew up to his hand around her neck, a word of power caught in her constricted throat. He slammed her to the ground, and she gritted her teeth, calling on Nocturnal's Agent of Strife as Azrael's other hand fisted in her clothes.

    Her eyes went wide with panic as she stared into his intent red eyes, and she let loose the Agent of Strife, binding her soul to his with a red cord, feeding her strength even as it weakened him. But he was daedra, and she knew the gift would not be as effective on him as it would be on other races. Her hands clawed at his hand at her throat, and her fingers worked to pry his fingers off of her enough to let her Dragon voice out.

    Don't you dare, she growled in her mind at Azrael, her body twisting under his hand, trying to fight him off.
     
  15. He couldn’t only chuckle feeling her petty attempts to stop him. He ripped away her clothing piece by piece feeling her try to fight him off. “Dear aunt Nocturnal can’t help you here my dearest nightingale.” He taunted feeling the pull on his strength even if minor. “Your luck isn’t any good” his clothing started to disappear his naked form looming over her as she tried to pry his hand. His cock coming into her view, he was larger than any mortal man and he was completely erect and throbbing at the thought of his claim of her. “Your making me even more intrigued, I just want you all to myself.” His lips landed on hers roughly as magic chains wrapped their cuffs around her limbs pulling them so she couldn’t struggle too much more he could only chuckle a little as he pulled away from her lips his hand leaving her neck, But she would find her voice silenced. “Now I won’t have to worry about your shouts. I would have loved to relished in your screams” he pushed her legs appart the chains making Him hard to resist. The chains were breakable, he underestimated her and that could prove to be his downfall
     
    #15 Daemonazrael320, Feb 16, 2018
    Last edited: Feb 17, 2018
  16. "Nnng...!" Aine managed to make a little noise as Azrael stripped her bit by bit. First he bared her breasts, round and plump to the air, her tight pink nipples pebbling at the cool breeze coming off of the river. Her leather leggings were next, her soft ass pillowing around her hips on the hard, rocky ground. Azrael sealed her lips with his with rough insistence, and cold chains clasped around her ankles and wrists, pulling them tight to the ground. The daedra's lips were hard and hot, and she struggled to twist her mouth away from his. He let her go, hand releasing her throat, and instinctively Aine Shouted, but nothing came out. She tried again with more command, but her voice was silenced.

    Glaring up at the naked Azrael, Aine faltered, eyes going wide at his manly body. He pushed her legs apart, and she bucked wildly, or as wildly as she could chained to the ground as she was. His obvious erection approached her sex, and she froze, mortified and angry beyond comprehension. Closing her eyes, Aine summoned all of the strength she could. By the Eights, she was the Dragonborn. She'd not be chained like an animal and taken by Riverwood's river.

    Aine cast the Illusion spell she'd learned from Drevis, her naked form going invisible as she struggled against the chains, trying to buy more time. By Sithis, if this Daedra rapes me here and now... she cursed in her mind, feeling the chains at her ankles give way--she'd always had stronger leg muscles--she tucked her knees into her chest, snapping her bonds. She twisted away from Azrael, still chained by her wrists, but still invisible.
     
  17. The chains on her arms held strong pulling her back. “Amusing I should have sealed your magic as well but that makes it all the more interesting” he said Getting up “you should have thought to confuse me first, my silent flower, or at least knocked me back” he grabbed hold of the chains pulling her back towards him. “And your invisibility doesn’t work on the chains that bind you here.” He was growling in excitement pulling her closer and closer as she tried to get away. The chains however slowly breaking and he could see it. He was still weakened, he would need to take time if he failed now. He smirked a bit letting her go before vanishing into a shadow, magic restoring her cloths and voice as if he hadn’t touched her. The only sign he had touched her were the marks on her neck. “I’ll let you go for now my flower. But you can’t escape now.... I’m going to enjoybreaking you down slowly” his chains still rattled on her wrists holding her for a moment as he appeared in front of her as he placed a collar around her neck. The collar held its place around her invisible throat locking. “A gift to remember I’m not too far. Your going to need me, you’ll see.”

    After he vanished once more she was there with herself. The chains breaking but the collar remained, if she tried to remove it she would find that it wouldn’t break.
     
  18. He pulled her by the chains on her wrists, and she snarled silently, digging in her heels, trying to resist his pull. It seemed that the more she resisted, the more excited he got. She struggled harder anyway, but faltered when he vanished in front of her. Her clothes appeared on her body again, and she froze, confused. His words washed over her, making her shiver, whether from anticipation or fear, she didn't quite know. Something hard and cold clasped over her neck, and she flinched back, Azrael's form directly in front of her as he collared her. She lunged for him but the chains held her in place, though they were slowly slipping free of their links.

    "W-what do you mean, daedra?" she finally managed to growl, realizing her voice was back too late. He vanished before her, leaving her shaken, collared, and furious. Her hands flew to the collar, trying all means to take it off, but finding to work.

    "Damnation!" she swore, stalking away from the river and out of the town. She needed space, and she needed to Shout. "I'm not your flower," she grumbled under her breath as she walked, unnerved by the tiny bit of a thrill she got from hearing that powerful of a man call her his "flower."

    Unsheathing Molag Bal's mace and Chillrend, she shouted, "Wuld Nah Kest!" Her whirlwind sprint propelled her forward every so often until she reached the giant camp north of Riverwood. She unleashed her fury on the giants, not caring that she had no bounty on the camp, not caring that she was being reckless. She just needed space to think, to recover, and fighting almost always gave her that space.
     
  19. Azrael sat close by watching her not that she could see him or even sense him. She was a bud waiting to bloom and he wondered what flower she would bloom to be. He watched her rage as she destroyed the giants, he could see her fear. She was a nord woman through and through, but he could feel like there was something about her that he would come to love.

    He could feel his father’s presence as his voice boomed. “You’re wasting time hero.... bring him to me.... now!” His wrathful yell screamed in their minds. “Silence father...” Azrael called back his voice could be heard in her mind as the collar began to glow she could feel Molag-bal’s Presence leave getting sealed from her mind. This was between the Dragonborn and him now, he revealed himself sitting not far from the Giants fire. “What a nuisance.... fathers always butting in where he doesn’t belong”
     
  20. Molag Bal's voice raged in her mind as she struck down the last giant a bit too easily. The ground shook as the giant fell, an ebony crossbow bolt lodged up his neck and into his skull. Her hands fisted next to her sheathed mace and sword, crossbow already replaced on her back.

    Her collar started glowing, and she startled, turning in place as Azrael's voice silenced his father's voice in her mind. The infuriating red-haired daedra sat near the giant pire, watching her almost casually, unruffled. Fear chilled her at his presence, and she indtinctiinst took a step back, unsheathing Molag Bal's mace at her hip. For a moment, all she could do was stare at the man, throat working to form words.

    Then she Shouted. "Fus Ro Dah!" The Power of her voice rushed toward Azrael and the fire, a force not exactly harmful, just painful for the one attacked. It wasn't the best Shout to use, but it was involuntary, compulsory, habit.