Dragon Hearts Wholesale Chapter 1 (Patreon)

"I have seen Jake's die to all kinds of things... I have seen them die from obese people falling on them. Killed by damn near every make and model of vehicle. And I even saw one poor bastard die after some teenager threw his can of Axe body spray into a bonfire after his girlfriend broke up with him to date his dad."

My sponsor then said helplessly. "I've never seen one of you poor fucker's die to a toothpick stabbing your gums and giving you a deadly infection from the pufferfish you were eating."

"Dying with my lung's refusing to inflate... Fucking sucks, thank you very much." I said dryly before I looked over my sponsor with an odd expression. As he looked like he was the Pope or something with his fancy white and gold robes.

Then, seeing how my sponsor became more serious, I likewise said bluntly. "So, am I going to hell for touching a boob in seventh grade?" 

My sponsor's face twitched before saying flatly. "No... Even the psycho Jakes we collect have their places in the wider multiverse. There is always a place worth throwing a killer at who just wants a waifu to snuggle with after he showers the gore of his enemies from him."

He cleared his throat and said.

"No, you are going to Skyrim; you will have the bloodline of a Nord... With the muscle density of a Hanma and Agito, notwithstanding your body reshape to fit into the universe of a cosmic eldritch being. Your actual cheat is very specifically the 'Dragon Communion' spells of Elden Ring I will be grafting onto your mind and soul."

I actually pouted a bit and said pointedly. "Bro... Aren't you even making me the Dragonborn? Hell, you aren't even giving me an Elden Ring gamer system or something?" 

My sponsor snorted and said with a knowing smile. "If you really want me to make you the Dragonborn, I can totally do that. But Sheogorath, AND Akatosh will be after your ass. As no matter how I cloud their senses to you being a foreigner, the fate of the world in it's Dragonborn has already been set."

He shook his head and shrugged. "There can only be ONE dragonborn bud. Hmm, but do remember. That with your enhanced body you shoudn't have any fear of the typical negative effects of Dragon Communion. You are basically running on Toriko logic as you eat the essence of the dragons' physical forms."

I paused at that and then I asked slowly. "Wait, so if I am mucking about with the Dragonborn and we kill a dragon. Doesn't that mean I am just turbo fucked because they will suck all the flesh and organs of the dragons away?"

To which my sponsor rolled their eyes and said flatly. "Nah, that's just some shitty game logic. When a dragon's entire soul is ripped out of its body and eaten by the dragonborn, it still leaves behind its body. No worry about your dragonborn waifu ruining the hunt for you."

I perked up at that, and I asked with eye's bright and my heart filled with joy. "Wait! So I got a chance to meet up with a bit-titty Viking dragonborn mommy?!"

The room went silent before my sponsor sighed, and before I could react, he was standing beside me with a hand on my shoulder as though to give me comfort as he told me the most devastating news possible!

"Bro... I am sorry. The Dragonborn, the Dovakiin, while having massive milker's, is still an escaped Argonian slave who became a werebear and spends her time almost exclusively as a bear running through the woods as a bandit."

"The legends... The legends of the bear in the woods and the Dovabear are true?" I said with horror as my sponsor nodded with a 'totally' legit nod of solemn agreement.

I just stared at my sponsor, waiting for him to crack up laughing. But he remained solemn and stone-faced for a long moment.

Then he took a breath, and his hand glowed, and my mind was filled not only with dragon communion spells that could reshape my body temporarily, but also the dragon cult spells themselves.

"Now... Also, I do feel the need to remind you. As several alternates of ourselves have gone to Skyrim before, and more then a few have died because they thought the world went of game based power levels of scale. It very much is NOT the case."

I shook my head clear of the massive info dump of foreign magic that was inside of me, and after a moment I asked bluntly. "For example?"

To which my sponsor cleared his throat and said. "For example, one Jake who had a plunder system killed the dragonborn with poison and a boulder to steal his power from the start. Thinking he was hot shit, he walked into Windhelm and challenged Ulfric. He was then promptly blasted to pieces, and his very soul shattered."

"Do not think that you can just challenge a man who can bend reality with a word, has the blessing of a god, or can shape reality with centuries of magical knowledge and practice. You will die VERY quickly and that will be it, we only give this single second chance at life."

I could only nod in understanding before I took a breath and asked the most pressing question. Not whether Sheogorath was still possibly an insane bro, not whether I could unlock 'infinite' potential with the Skeleton Key.

"Will Serana have massive milkers?" I asked making my sponsor actually chuckle before shaking his head.

"No hentai mods sadly... And if you lust after and desire Serana as a lover? That is going to be an uphill battle my friend."

With that, he gave me a final look before he said thoughtfully. "One final piece of advice, then. The Standing Stone's buffs on you will be more powerful than you think with your outsider nature."

Then with a hand wave a portal formed to my side and he said with a chuckle. "Well, go on then. Bit titty vampires, snuggle hungry werewolves, and dragon hearts await you. Or would you prefer I throw you through the portal instead?"

I shook my head, and then after a moment, I asked bluntly. "Should I walk into it... Jump or running into it make any difference?"

My sponsor shook his head and said with a grin. "Not a single difference. Just do it."

With that, I forced myself into a jog and hopped through the swirling portal of multicolor light that made my consciousness dim as I was transported through space and time.

My mind drifted for a good bit until sensation came back to me. Frigid air hit my body as the sounds of rough roads on the harsh cart I was riding hit my mind and my head snapped up.

And then it happened. I could all but hear my sponsor cackling as that fucking iconic line rang out.

"Hey you! You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? And walked into that Imperial ambush. Same as us?"

I just stared at Ralof the fucking Stormcloak and I ignored his and the horse thief's bullshit as I remembered my sponsor's warning.

About how power levels weren't at all related to the game's scale. 

I was on the way to Helgen... Where the first born of the most powerful god in the setting was going to throw his tantrum and summon a storm of meteors and other nonsense.

Slowly I turned to my side to see the Dragonborn. The supposed escaped Argonian slave who was a Deadra worshipper and a homeless werebear.

And I realized my sponsor was a complete liar! She was very much a beautiful Nord woman with clear muscle mass, but still feminine curves and graced with gleaming golden hair, and golden eyes that had a heavy weight to them. 

Wait... She kinda has a bit of Marika's look from Elden Ring except she has some muscle mommy vibes?' I mused before we hit a crater of a pothole that made everyone jostle and the guards to yell out for us to shut up.