Metalborn in Skyrim

The morning sun had just begun to climb over the distant peaks of the Druadach Mountains, casting a soft orange glow that spilled through the small window of Kael's room in Markarth. He sat on the edge of the sturdy wooden bed, lacing up his boots as the faint hum of life in the city began to stir. The muffled sound of traders in the marketplace and the rhythmic clang of hammers in the forges below reached his ears.

The stone walls of the city were cold, and even within the safety of his quarters, Kael could feel the crisp morning air creeping in. He rolled his shoulders, stretching away the stiffness of his muscles. After days of preparation, it was time to move.

Kael grabbed his pack, adjusted his metalmind bracelets on his wrist and forearms, and stepped out into the fresh morning air of Markarth's winding streets. The sky above the jagged mountains glowed with the promise of a new day, but his thoughts were already focused far beyond the city's gates. 

His mission was simple—gather information on the Forsworn and their activities in the Reach. It was clear the Forsworn's hatred for the Nords ran deep, and their violent tactics were only escalating. The Forsworn weren't just fighting for land—they were fighting for revenge.

Kael's mind drifted as he moved along the narrow mountain trail, his boots crunching lightly against the frost-covered earth. His enhanced senses, flaring with the tin in his stomach, allowed him to notice every rustle in the bushes, every shift in the wind, every distant sound that could point to hidden danger. He felt sharp, alert—this terrain was treacherous, and he couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

He pushed on, using his steel pushing ability to propel himself up the steep mountain sides with relative ease. He burned a steel bead, sending himself soaring forward, jumping over boulders and climbing higher and higher. Every movement was fluid and precise as his body adapted to the harsh terrain. It was a beautiful yet dangerous place—steep cliffs, sharp rocks, and wild rivers that cut through the land like veins of silver.

Kael spent the next several days combing through the rugged terrain of the Reach, his senses honed and his body strengthened by his burning metals. The landscape was as harsh as it was beautiful, with jagged cliffs that seemed to scrape the sky and narrow trails that wound precariously along the edges of deep ravines. The rivers roared with glacial meltwater, their icy currents cutting through the rocky valleys like veins of silver.

It didn't take long for Kael to start finding the Forsworn camps.

The first one he stumbled upon was tucked into a small gorge, its approach hidden by a thick tangle of trees and undergrowth. From his perch high above, Kael observed the camp for a while, noting the layout. Rough wooden structures were scattered haphazardly, their makeshift roofs covered in furs and patched hides. Bone totems, their grisly shapes unmistakable, lined the perimeter of the camp, swaying in the wind. Forsworn warriors moved between the structures, their armor a mix of leathers and animal pelts, and Kael's sharp eyes caught the faint glint of weapons at their sides.

What drew his attention most, however, was a small clearing near the center of the camp. There, an altar had been erected—a flat stone slab surrounded by a circle of bones. Symbols, carved into the stone, glowed faintly in the dim light filtering through the trees. Kael couldn't read the runes, but their sinister energy was unmistakable. A big pile of bones sat nearby, ominous in its silent testimony to whatever dark purpose the Forsworn were working toward.

Kael's stomach turned. He couldn't confront them directly—there were too many, and the risk was too great. But he could do something.

He descended the ridge quietly, using steel pushes to navigate the tricky terrain without making a sound. Once he was close enough, Kael burned a pewter bead, his muscles surging with strength. He grabbed a large, jagged rock and, with all the power he could muster, hurled it at the altar. The stone flew like a cannonball, smashing into the center of the slab with a thunderous crash. The runes flickered, then went dark as the altar cracked under the impact.

The camp erupted into chaos. Shouts and curses echoed through the gorge as Forsworn warriors scrambled to investigate the destruction. Kael didn't wait to see what happened next. Using steel to push off a discarded weapon nearby, he launched himself up the side of the gorge, disappearing into the trees.

The second camp was smaller but no less disturbing. Situated in a narrow valley between two towering cliffs, the site was marked by a single large tent surrounded by smaller ones. The unmistakable stench of decay hung in the air, and Kael's enhanced senses picked up the faint, acrid tang of blood.

He spotted another altar, this one even more grotesque. Animal carcasses were draped over the stones, their blood pooling at the base. The bones here were arranged in strange patterns, spiraling outward from the altar like some twisted artwork.

Kael crouched behind a boulder, his heart pounding. He could see the Forsworn milling about, some sharpening weapons, others chanting softly near the altar. It was clear that this was more than just a camp—it was a ritual site.

He wasn't about to let it stay that way.

Scanning the area, Kael noticed a precarious pile of loose rocks on the cliff above the camp. A plan formed quickly in his mind. Using a combination of steel pushing and iron pulling, he dislodged the rocks that were filled with metal, sending them tumbling down the slope. The resulting landslide roared into the camp, burying the altar and scattering the Forsworn below.

Kael watched from his vantage point as the warriors shouted in confusion, some scrambling to dig out the buried site while others searched the surrounding area for the cause. Satisfied with his work, Kael retreated into the shadows, leaving the camp in disarray.

The third camp he discovered was nestled in a dense forest, hidden beneath a canopy of ancient trees. Kael approached cautiously, his steps silent as he burned tin to heighten his senses. This camp was different. It was smaller, quieter, but the air felt heavy with something dark and oppressive.

At the center of the camp was a pit, dug deep into the earth and lined with jagged stones. Bones protruded from the dirt walls, and Kael could see faint traces of dried blood on the edges. Surrounding the pit were crude wooden posts, each topped with a skull, their empty eyes seeming to watch him.

Kael's jaw tightened as he surveyed the scene. This wasn't just a camp; it was a site for something far worse than he had imagined. He didn't know what the Forsworn were planning, but it was clear that their rituals were escalating in scope and depravity.

This time, Kael decided to take a more direct approach. He waited until nightfall, slipping into the camp under the cover of darkness. With his enhanced strength and speed, he worked quickly, toppling the wooden posts and scattering the bones. When he was done, he stood at the edge of the pit and burned another pewter bead, flaring the metal to its fullest. With a mighty heave, he hurled a boulder into the pit, the impact collapsing the edges and burying the gruesome site.

As he retreated, Kael burned tin one last time, his senses on high alert for any sign of pursuit. The forest remained silent, but his mind raced. The Forsworn weren't just raiding villages and attacking travelers—they were building toward something, something that required death and sacrifice on a massive scale.

The third camp he discovered was deep in the heart of a dense forest, the towering canopy of ancient trees blotting out much of the sunlight. The air here was damp and heavy, and the earthy scent of moss and decay mingled with something sharper—something faintly metallic and acrid. Kael approached cautiously, burning tin to heighten his senses as he moved soundlessly through the underbrush. Every rustle of leaves, every crack of a distant twig, sent his pulse quickening. He crouched low behind a fallen log, peering ahead through the thick foliage.

This camp felt different. It wasn't the bustling hive of activity he had come to expect from Forsworn camps. Instead, it was eerily quiet, with only a few faint movements among the shadows. The oppressive atmosphere pressed down on him like a physical weight, and his stomach twisted as he caught sight of what lay at the center of the camp.

A pit, dug deep into the earth, yawned before him. The walls were lined with jagged stones that jutted out at uneven angles, giving the impression of a gaping wound in the forest floor. Bones protruded from the dirt, some broken and others disturbingly intact. Dried blood streaked the edges of the pit, its dark stains visible even in the fading light. Surrounding the pit were crude wooden posts, each topped with a skull, their hollow eyes staring into the darkness as if watching for intruders.

Kael's jaw tightened as he took it all in. This wasn't just a camp—it was one of the worst ritual sites he has seen. The air seemed to hum faintly with a sinister energy, and though he couldn't decipher the purpose of the pit, its intent was unmistakably dark. His instincts screamed at him to turn back, but he pushed the fear aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. Whatever the Forsworn were planning here, it had to be stopped.

He studied the camp carefully, noting its layout. The tents were sparse, clustered on the far side of the clearing, and there were only a handful of Forsworn present. They moved in silence, their behavior subdued compared to the frenzied energy he had seen in other camps. One figure stood near the edge of the pit, muttering in low tones as they worked on something Kael couldn't quite make out.

Kael pulled back into the shadows, retreating to a safer distance. He waited for nightfall, his senses sharp and his muscles tense as he planned his next move. The forest around him grew colder as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the camp was soon illuminated only by the faint glow of a single fire. The Forsworn had retreated to their tents, leaving the pit unguarded.

This was his chance.

Kael moved swiftly and silently, burning pewter to enhance his strength and speed. He approached the pit first, his stomach churning as he got a closer look. The bottom of the pit was littered with bones, some small and animal-like, others disturbingly human. Symbols had been carved into the stones lining the walls, their jagged lines radiating malice. He didn't understand their meaning, but he didn't need to. Whatever ritual the Forsworn intended to perform here had to be disrupted.

He worked quickly, toppling the wooden posts surrounding the pit and scattering the skulls. The brittle bones splintered as they hit the ground, the dull sound breaking the eerie silence of the camp. He found a large boulder nearby, its surface slick with moss, and burned a pewter metalmind, flaring the metal to its fullest. An intense feeling of strength surged within him as he struggled to lifted the large boulder. Just when the small metalmind was about to extinguish, he threw the boulder into the pit. 

The impact was thunderous. The edges of the pit collapsed inward, sending a cascade of dirt and rocks tumbling down to bury the grisly remains. The noise startled the Forsworn, and shouts erupted from the tents as they scrambled to investigate. Kael didn't wait to see their reaction. Using a combination of steel pushes and iron pulls, he launched himself away from the camp, weaving through the trees with fluid precision.

He stopped a safe distance away, crouching low and burning tin to heighten his awareness. The shouts from the camp echoed faintly through the forest, but no one seemed to be pursuing him.