Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 360: Chapter LXXXIII: Scrambling Defense



(Reyvin's POV)

With a silent flash, Minthara, the Blades, Akulakhan and I walk out of the wayshrine below my tower, having left Tullius to deal with the aftermath after we saw Paarthurnax driving off the two other dragons both of whom looked battered and barely breathing.

"I still don't understand why he spared them." Minthara grumbles.

Delphine visibly holds back a comment in favor of Esbern speaking up "What baffles me is how he forbade you from finishing them off."

"Oh no, I understand that part." Minthara shrugs "They were his conquest, to give them to me would be an insult to the both of us."

The Blades both give her odd looks but wisely do not respond.

"Paarthurnax is a pacifist." I shrug "He has been learning and teaching the way of the voice as understood by his students, the Greybeards, for thousands of years now. He may be willing to help us by protecting us but I don't think he would willingly deliver the killing blow to Alduin himself if he had the chance."

"That i-" Delphine forcefully pauses and rethinks her words "Seems unwise."

"Look at it this way." I shrug her annoyance off "What is the better option? The secondborn of Akatosh working to defend us or remaining on his mountain without a care?"

She blinks and no doubt grumbling endlessly in her mind, inclines her head.

"That reminds me." Minthara hums "Where is Krein anyway?"

I just point to the top of my tower, the massive form of my sworn dragon looming over my city with watchful eyes "I am quite the thorn in Alduin's side, and I am not leaving my people unprotected."

My dragon buddy notices me and swiftly ascends into the skies, landing before us a few moments later and scaring the absolute shit out of some gawking temple goers "Thuri." He lowers his head at me and looks to Minthara "Dovahkiin."

Naturally he completely ignores the Blades as if they were not even there.

Scorch poofs into existence and takes his imperious perch atop the dragon's head while I give him a wave "Hey Krein, no trouble I hope?"

"None." He shakes his head "Have you managed to corner the eldest?"

I tilt my head and make a 'so-so' gesture "Kind of?" I shrug "We forced him into calling for his divine power and your father took exception to that I guess. He should be throwing a tantrum over in Sovengarde by now."

"The pitiful meatbag he tried reviving was far less lucky." Akulakhan voices with something akin to pride "He was crushed before he could speak."

Kreinaarvokun hums at that, the noise bringing with it a tinge of dissatisfaction "A lowly death, even if we are at war."

Esbern clearing his throat reminds me that we are on a bit of a timer so I shift the topic "As much as I would love to regale you with the entire battle we do need to get moving. Have you noticed any attacks from your brethren?"

"The winds are in turmoil, Thuri." He speaks after a moment "Many voices litter the air, their rage and hunger comes from all directions."

My response is interrupted by a buzz in my oblivion storage, my orb flashing into my hand an instant later.

[Lizard Wizard: Student most glorious! Rest not on your laurels for the lesser lizards too have begun their ravenous raids in full!]

[Big D: Is Winterhold fine?]

[Lizard Wizard: Fret not, student mine! The fools have felt the terrible power of the tiresome trio on this day!]

Right... [Big D: Got any hints for me?]

[Lizard Wizard: Indeed I do! The first shall you find in the land where the river joins the woods, the second upon the hive of scum and villainy, and the third upon the land of rock and stone! Tarry not my most potent of pupils, for your time is short and battle rages already!]

[PaperPusher: ...That does not sound helpful whatsoever.]

[Big D: I understood that perfectly actually.]

[PaperPusher: I am too tired for this shit.]

The connection winks out and I store the orb once again "Well then, we have three destinations to worry about." I speak up, drawing immediate eyes "There are attacks ongoing in Riverwood, Riften and Markarth."

"We will need to split up." Minthara decides immediately.

"Yep." I nod an whistle, a masked agent appearing in front of me a moment later "Get me Davos, Gelebor and Terryn."

He bows and rushes away.

Minthara takes the free time to call for her own group and a few minutes later I stand half surrounded by everyone of any relevance, this including a very usually horny Mephys who looked just about ready to pounce on me after whispering how 'Utterly delightful it was watching me cut up the little tantrum-thrower'

'I still needed to deliver on my little promise to her' I realized with growing dread. 'Well, that is for tomorrow's Reyvin to worry about, distraction go!' I clap my hands to draw everyone's attention and speak "I trust that all of you have been informed of what we are dealing with?" I ask, receiving a bunch of nods in return "Excellent, here is the plan:"

(General POV)

Riverwood lay half ruined, the entirety of its western palisade was torn to shreds and the houses it once guarded were not doing much better as the small number of defenders who decided to aid their guardians were strewn all across the shattered material, all of them dead and often not even given the dignity of remaining in one piece.

A streak of green blurred towards the bright flaming orange dragon who had just batted away a werewolf of all things with his mangled wing, a large orichalcum spear jutting out of its

joint.

The dragon's golden eyes narrowed and its claws swiftly met a duo of scimitars, the curved blades not bothering to remain in the lock as their wielder slid them across the dragon's defenses and flowed into his next attack.

Durrak's eyes were bloodshot, he advised Aela from transforming but the foolish huntress grew too bloodthirsty once they brought the beast down, the surprise of her blessing distracting what was left of the guards long enough for them to be set aflame.

'At least we got the people out in time.' Durrak growls as fatalistic realization began to raise within his heart. His blades were sharp and he knew his might but this beast was more powerful than the one they felled on the fields of Whiterun, and he lacked the army at his side he had back then.

Still, his tusked face was spread in a wide grin as his swings became wilder and stronger with each strike, his orcish blood boiling as the berserk rage began setting in. Just before his mind abandoned its reason he tugged at his meager reserve of Magicka, activating the enchantment placed upon his armor and drawing every single bit of potential he could.

His vision turned red and the dragon howled as the blades finally managed to find purchase.

A figure hiding behind a distant tree observed the battle, his experienced eyes narrowing as considered his options. He came to these lands to find a worthy challenge and a worthier death, he had thought it would come from a warrior of great skill but then with a lazy shrug he decided a beast of legend will do as well.

The ebony clad warrior burst from his hiding spot, his greatsword leaving its sheath with nary a sound as he rushed for the dragon's side. The beast seemed to detect his presence, but so did the orc, and even in his bestial rage his mind still retained a bestial cunning.

Something Durrak followed without hesitation, as he grabbed onto the dragon's neck, ignoring the slash which gouged at his side, and brought the beast's head low with a scream

of exertion.

The warrior clad in ebony wasted no time in ramming the point of his blade into the side of the dragon, angling the point with unerring precision and trying to stab out its heart. But the Dovah was no fool, and before the blade could reach its destination it shouted "FEIM ZII GRON!" The enchanted sword passing through it without any resistance, and the orc flailing forward and falling face-first into the dirt as his strength finally left him. The dragon made some distance, the spear from his wings dislodging with the shout, and

smiled cruelly as its ambusher tensed in preparation. It cared not for playing around with these pitiful mortals any longer, they would die and he would not be met with Alduin's ire. He breathed in, the words of flame and death on his lips, waiting for the aetherial state to expire.

And just as it did, before he could react, the ebony clad warrior threw his sword with impressive might, forcing him to dodge to the side while running after the fallen orc's spear.

But before he could reach it the annoyed dragon had already repositioned, his lips covered in

furious flames.

Before he could reap his vengeance however, the sound of rushing feet made his eyes twitch to the west, and promptly receive a bolt of lightning to the face for his trouble. The spell was but the beginning of the attack however, as a diminutive pale elf, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else in existence, commanded a troupe of automatons to begin pelting the dragon with bolts of all sizes, the old man who had fired the lightning bolt already

casting another.

The dragon growled, sick and tired of the interruption he ignored the enemy attacks and spoke "YOOOL TOR SHUL!" A wave of flame slamming into the automatons and melting a good number of them, the elf commanding them merely stepping out of the way and floating

atop a nearby roof.

His eyes narrowed as the elf made a 'come hither' motion with his hand, and deciding to indulge the weakling he swooped down to cut him to bits. The twig would probably be tasty

enough.

But in his irritation at the new arrivals, the dragon had forgotten those he had been facing previously, paying for it a moment later as the ebony clad warrior rushed under his form with a speed not belonging to a mortal and jabbed his spear up just as he passed, creating a massive gash in the dragon's underbelly.

To make things even worse for the draconic pillager, the elf's taunt had been an ambush, for as he roared his pain at the attempted disembowelment he did not even notice the woman jumping out of a nearby shadow, her sword gleaming with curses and rituals tailor made to

cut down his kin.

Delphine was almost giddy enough to laugh as the tip of her blade went through the dragon's eye and into his brain, an upper slash opening its skull and giving Esbern the perfect target for

his lightning spells to roast.

Things turned silent for a moment as the dragon stopped moving, and it went on for a long

wile as no one was there to cheer their victory.

The warrior clad in ebony stared at his... rescuers? And pointed at the downed orc "Do you

have healers among you?"

The diminutive pale elf who was now leaning against a yet standing wall and breathing heavily forced himself to calm down and twitched his head to the old man.

"Can you help?" He asked without bothering to thank the elf.

Not that Eldor cared.

"Of course." Esbern pretended to dust off his breeches and began walking towards Durrak "I

am Esbern, in service of the Lady Dragonborn. Who are you?" He asked conversationally, a part of him telling him to do his utmost to recruit the mysterious man.

"I am called Muntazir." The man spoke and removed his helm, revealing a chiseled Redguard

face "Though you may call me the Ebony Warrior."

"What a quaint title." Esbern mused.

A groan drew their attention as Durrak awoke, and was promptly struck by all the accumulated

pain "Gush later old man" The orc grunted "Heal now."

The elder chuckled and got to work.

(Reyvin's POV)

As I appeared in one of Riften's less known alcoves, followed closely by my elite unit of

marksmen and paladins, I was greeted by a wall of noise, of screams, roars, weapons and

battle cries.

"Gods damn it boss" Davos grumbles as he begins replacing his bolts with the 'oh shit' stock

"Can't you ever take us to somewhere less terrifying?"

"Come now, sir Davos." Anondor smirks "It is an honor to be of use to one's lord."

My right hand Mer just rolls his eyes.

"Now is not the time for japes." Gelebor cuts in "We have people to protect." "And the best way to protect them is by killing the attackers, no?" I smirk "Follow me and

remain silent." I command, and pull out a very powerful scroll of mass invisibility, completely hiding all of us from all but the most potent of detections.

(General POV)

The fields in front of Riften's shattered gates were covered in corpses, numerous mercenaries

of differing origins lay slaughtered before the massive beast towering over their strongest

warriors.

A dragon corpse was strewn in front of a nearby forest, numerous siege engines crushed under its weight as its body was turned into a pincussion by the surprisingly prepared defenders. A group of mercenaries still stood however, their sunburst emblem easily marking them as

the renowned Dawnguard, expert Daedra and vampire hunters of great renown said to have stood by the High King's side as he slew a dreaded vampire lord.

For all their renown they could barely be counted in the dozens, having lost more than a hundred men in the battle to fell a single dragon and barely wound the other.

They were not fools however, and they positioned their numerous siege engines in differentNôv(el)B\\jnn

areas, so that they could continuously shoot at the flying beasts even as they went after their comrades.

There was only one of those positions still standing now.

And the remaining dragon knew it well, charging at the group with reckless abandon, blasting

them with unrelenting force and stealing their life force with a wave of baleful green energy. Its jaws snapped at the final ballista, turning it into chunks of wood and metal as his claws

rent a man in full plate armor to tiny shreds, uncaring for the protections placed upon his

gear.

The sound of horse hooves drew its attention as the leader of the mercenaries, a tall man clad in multiple layers of armor and wielding a brightly glowing warhammer charged at him without fear.

Chuckling with pure malice in his throat, the dragon lashed out, batting the horse away with a wicked grin and leaning in to consume Isran whole.

But Isran's body never reached the ground, and instead stopped in the air, as if someone was

holding him up.

The next thing the dragon knew, he was being blasted by a shout which still sent terror down

his freshly resurrected spine. (Reyvin's POV)

My lips twisted into a grin as my entire force became visible, dragonrend smashing into its

target and Isran's ass saved from death by idiocy, our target was left completely open to what

came next.

A hundred marksmen with enchanted repeater crossbows, all of their munitions carved by my

own hand to do as much damage as possible and their aim impeccable after endless training and competition.

Needless to say I could understand the not so silent gulping noise my enemy made before he was quite literally turned to shreds by the wave of sharp and pointy metal. "Now then." I turned to the leader of the Dawnguard with a smile which did not reach my eyes

"How about you tell me what gave you the bright fucking idea to face a pair of dragons in the

open and in front of the fucking city?!"

(General POV)

Marco hesitantly reached his hand out and patted the Dreaded Dragon Overlady's shoulder

"There, there, Minthara. I am sure he did not escape to ruin your day."

He could only curse the purple fucker who bolted the instant Minthara appeared on the yet

intact walls of Markarth as he received a divinely powered stomp on the foot.

The dragon corpses shalt be sacrificed upon the altar of the stone!

Begin the butchering my pretties!

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