The Return of Sithis, Volume 1: Awakening

Not even seeing Avenicci making a fool out of himself made Lorelei smile. Instead, she went to her room and locked the door, barricaded it, locked the window, and closed the curtains. She then sat down, and you could head the sounds of her sharpening a knife even from outside of the room.

"Hello?" Avenicci's voice called through the glass window as he clung to the side of the inn and knocked on it. "I'm sorry!"

"Please!" Avenicci cried as he frantically beat his hand against the window. "I rented that room! Open the window, please!"

Varren's fun little excursion is cut unexpectedly short. After closing another three gates, with still a half dozen more to go, he found himself at the heart of the ruins; a massive hall with cracked pillars, an ancient golden throne, and an even more ancient wall, covered in writing. Behind the throne, lies an ornate obsidian coffin, and off to the side, is a large gilded treasure chest. As Varren moves closer, he is shocked to realize he recognises the writing. It is the language of the dragons of old. Just... What in Auri'El's name is this place?

Every instinct in his body screams at him to run. But he ignores his better instincts, instead cautiously stepping forward, and drawing his sword. Time itself seems to slow down, as the coffin bursts open, sending the lid flying dozens of feet away. Varren watches in horror, as a nightmarish figure straight from the pages of lore rises forth, a masked skeleton clad in a flowing black cloak with gold embroidery, and an ornate golden staff. Varren involuntarily steps back, and as the monstrous being screams in rage, the proud king feels something he hasn't felt since staring down Sithis Himself: fear.

"Sossedov, Sil Do Bormah, Gein Wo Yah Faal Kel... Dez Nis Kos Lo!"

Varren blinks, stunned, as he realizes he understands the entity, at least partially. It... It's speaking Dragontongue!

Before Varren can even react, the Dragon Priest decides the time for discussion is over, and unleashes a massive storm of fire and lightning at him. Pure destruction emanates from staff and palm, and Varren is sent hurtling backwards, thrown like a ragdoll. He catches himself, turning into a roll, and leaps to his feet, blasting the fiend with a full power Chain Lightning spell. The fiend reels momentarily, it's cloak smoking, but it brushes the attack aside and flies at him at inhuman speed, lightning and fire flowing from the creature like waves.

The pure force of the creature is indescribable, and a lesser elf would have fled in terror. But not Varren. He summoned all his memories and all the power he could muster, and he fought, he fought like he was back on the desolate shores of Solstheim, like his opponent was the Listener herself. He fought with all the pride and might of the King of the Dominion. He fought like everything, all of Tamriel, depended on it.

Later, if you had asked him to explain what that deadly dance felt like, he himself could not have told you. Everything was a blur of motion and magic, as lightning and thunder echoed throughout the ancient hall, and flames lighted the ghosts of the distant past. Finally, after what could have been minutes or months, Varren lays his mighty opponent low, plunging his blade into it's gut. The fiend screams once more, before exploding in a beautiful explosion of light, disintegrating into a pile of glowing dust, leaving only it's mask behind.

Short on breath and drained, Varren bends to grab the mask, only for it to burn his hand. He yelps and snatches his hand away, and the scaly green mask clatters to the stone floor.

"I knew you would do that. Why do you think I was sharpening my knife?" Lorelei asked as she sat in the shadows in the corner of the room, her chair facing the window and her knife in her hands.

"Who said I was going to stab you?" she asked before rushing at Avenicci, swinging the knife. He dodged the attacks until she had pushed him back towards the window, at which point she smiled and pushed him back out of it. "Good luck trying to get back inside now."

"There's a front door that will let you into the inn. Try using that," Lorelei said before pushing him away from the window and watching him fall to the ground again.

Siegemund spent the next few hours before the mission
Analyzing Stardust. It was obvious it wasn't a regular blade obviously, and only now could he make out writing on the ebony blade
And a dragons head on the crimson hilt. "Interesting." He murmured, pulling the blade closer.
"Strange right, that your father would give you such a mystery weapon." Nephle leaned over his shoulder.

He was far to focused to answer her.

"Dovah."a voice whispered, "Dovah." It whispered louder.

Siegemund looked around in confusion," Dragon?" He questioned.
the voice was no where to be found and he gave the blade a wary look.
Nephle  steppe from behind him and raised her eyebrow.
"Did you really just say Dragon? I mean its head is on the hilt." She chuckled skeptically.

Siegemund was going to speak, but decided not to. After all whatever that voice was he could understand it but it seeme to not be directed at him, but at something else.
 He turned around only to look in surprise.
"That is not fair, you changed into armor before I could." He complained. it was childish true but he didn't care.

"I thought it would be more appropriate for a ice cave." She grinned. He looked down at his own armor and sighed.
he really had to finish that Nord armor and soon.

Lorelei shook her head to say no, and went back to work on her weapons again. Of couse, she kept the knife within arms reach.