Metalborn in Skyrim

A scream ripped through the forest, sharp and filled with terror. Kael's head snapped up, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through his veins. Burning steel, he launched himself into the air, propelling forward in bursts to cover ground quickly. His tin flared now, sharpening his senses to catch every sound, every detail. The screams grew louder, frantic, and he cursed himself for letting his guard down.

When he burst through the trees, the scene sent a cold wave of fury through him. One of the Forsworn—filthy, bloodied, and desperate—had a blade pressed to the throat of the older man Kael had just freed. The other captives stood frozen nearby, their faces pale and stricken with fear.

The Forsworn sneered, his lips curling into a snarl. "I'll gut him and finish the rest of you!" he spat, tightening his grip on the weapon.

Kael didn't hesitate. Burning Iron, he sent a powerful pull toward the weapon. The dagger flew from the Forsworn's hand, clattering harmlessly to the ground several feet away. The man's eyes widened in shock, but Kael was already moving. Fueled by pewter, he closed the distance in a blur, driving his shoulder into the Forsworn's chest with enough force to knock him off his feet.

The man hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from his lungs. Kael loomed over him, his eyes blazing. The Forsworn tried to scramble to his feet, but a well-placed kick to his ribs sent him sprawling again. This time, Kael pressed his boot to the man's chest, pinning him down.

"Stay here," Kael barked to the captives, his voice sharp. They nodded, too stunned to speak, as he grabbed the Forsworn by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

Dragging the struggling man back to the camp, Kael bound his hands and feet with rope taken from the supplies, tying the knots tightly to ensure there was no chance of escape. He shoved the Forsworn onto his knees near the fire, his expression cold and unyielding.

Kael stood over the bound Forsworn, his mind racing with the weight of what he had just witnessed and the implications of the enemy's plans. The Forsworn glared at him with a mix of defiance and simmering rage, but Kael remained calm, his demeanor cold and calculating. He burned brass, sending soothing waves into the man's emotions, targeting the fear that lingered in the back of his mind. At the same time, Kael burned zinc, rioting the man's anger, pushing it to the forefront, stoking it like a blacksmith fanning a fire.

The man's breathing quickened, his eyes narrowing as Kael's soothing touch smothered his fear. Without the weight of that fear holding him back, the man's fury took over, wild and unrelenting. Kael leaned in slightly, his gray eyes piercing. "What are the Forsworn planning? What is this ritual meant to do?"

The Forsworn let out a guttural growl, his body straining against the ropes. "Why should I tell you anything?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

Kael didn't flinch. He burned brass again, quelling the man's lingering doubts and resistance, making him feel calm enough to speak. Simultaneously, he flared zinc, fanning the flames of his pride until the man couldn't contain himself any longer.

"You want to tell me," Kael said, his tone steady but insistent. "You want me to understand what's coming, don't you?"

The man's defiance cracked, the raw emotion burning in his eyes as he spat out his answer. "Mehrunes Dagon," he said, his voice trembling with both anger and fervor. "The Prince of Ambition himself! He's promised us power—power to take back the Reach, power to crush Markarth and every Nord who dares to stand against us!"

Kael's jaw tightened, but he kept his emotions in check. "What exactly does Dagon want in return?" he pressed, his voice firm.

The Forsworn sneered, his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Sacrifices," he growled. "Blood. Souls. The more we give, the stronger he becomes—and the stronger we become. When the time is right, he'll give us everything we need to destroy your precious cities. The Reach will be ours again."

Kael narrowed his eyes, pushing harder with brass to strip away the man's remaining fear and let his anger speak freely. "Where is this ritual happening? How far along are they?"

At this, the Forsworn let out a mocking laugh, his voice echoing through the camp. "You think you can stop it?" he spat, his expression wild with righteous fury. "It's already happening, traveler. Every tribe is ready. The Hagravens know the way. The blood flows, the bones are gathered, and soon, Dagon will walk this world. You're too late."

Kael's stomach churned, but he forced himself to maintain his composure. The Forsworn's words only solidified what Kael had already suspected: this wasn't just a rebellion. It was an existential threat, not just to the Reach but to all of Skyrim.

Extinguishing his metals, Kael stood straight and stepped back, his gaze hard and unyielding. He didn't say a word, letting the Forsworn's mocking laughter fade into the night air as he considered his next move. The fight against the Forsworn had become far more than a personal mission. Now, it was a race against time to prevent the land from being consumed by a Daedric Prince's ambition.

Kael stood over the restrained Forsworn, his gray eyes cold and unyielding as he extinguished the metals burning in his stomach. The man's mocking laughter echoed in his mind, but Kael wasn't rattled—he had gotten what he needed. The Forsworn's confession only deepened his resolve. Now, there was only one thing left to do.

Without a word, Kael grabbed the ropes binding the Forsworn and dragged him across the clearing. The man kicked and cursed, spitting vile threats, but Kael's pewter-enhanced strength made resistance futile. The captives, who had started retreating into the forest after the earlier attack, hesitated, watching Kael's grim procession with growing unease.

"What are you doing?" one of the freed men asked, his voice trembling.

Kael didn't look back as he spoke, his voice calm and cold. "Making sure he doesn't hurt anyone else."

He reached the edge of the sacrificial pit, the one the Forsworn had prepared for their dark rituals. The jagged stones lining the pit were still streaked with dried blood, and bones jutted out from the dirt walls like macabre decorations. Kael stared down into the shadowy depths for a long moment before turning to face the Forsworn.

The man stopped struggling, his defiance momentarily replaced by fear as he realized what Kael intended. "You can't do this!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Dagon will—"

Kael's boot connected with the man's side, cutting off his words as he toppled into the pit, still bound by ropes. He landed with a muffled thud, groaning as he writhed on the dirt floor below.

Kael stepped back from the edge, turning his attention to the captives who had cautiously gathered nearby, drawn by the commotion. Their wide eyes darted between Kael and the pit, their expressions a mixture of relief, confusion, and unease.

"What are you going to do with him?" the woman with the fierce green eyes asked, her voice wary.

Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his bag, retrieving one of the pewter metalmind beads he had prepared earlier. Without hesitation, he swallowed it, feeling the familiar hum of energy as the stored strength became available to him. His body surged with power, his muscles tightening as though they had been forged anew.

The captives gasped as Kael moved toward a massive boulder near the edge of the camp. It had been half-buried in the dirt, its surface rough and weathered by time. Kael dug his fingers under its edge, gritting his teeth as he began to lift. His enhanced strength made the impossible task look almost effortless as the enormous rock shifted and then rose from the ground.

He turned, the boulder held high above his head, and carried it toward the pit. The captives watched in stunned silence, their disbelief written across their faces. Kael stopped at the edge of the pit, looking down at the Forsworn. The man glared back up at him, his defiance rekindled despite his precarious position.

"You think this will stop us?" the Forsworn spat. "You're just one man—"

Kael didn't let him finish. With a mighty heave, he hurled the boulder into the pit. It sailed downward with terrifying speed before smashing into the ground, shaking the earth beneath their feet. The force of the impact sent up a plume of dust and dirt, and the resounding thud echoed through the clearing like the toll of a bell.

The captives stood frozen, their eyes wide with shock as they processed what they had just witnessed. Kael turned to face them, his expression unreadable but resolute. He felt the strength fading from his body, leaving him with a faint ache in his muscles, but he didn't let it show. Looking at the captives, he knew that it wasn't safe to be on their own.

"Let's move," Kael said, his tone brooking no argument. "There could be more of them nearby."