Dragonborn Ascendant (22)

A/N: I won't say much other than, thanks everyone for supporting me up to this point!

Here you are with another big-ish battle chapter.

-x-X-x-

The air was cold coming from Northeast, arctic from beyond the Pale, coming from the Sea of Ghosts and rushing through the mountains, freezing everything in its path with layers upon layers of ice and snow. So close to the warmer river water, a mist formed around the camp just as the mist from our condensed breaths.

“Formations!”

“Archers! To that slope!”

“Put on your gear, soldiers! There’s no time to eat!”

Such chaos, so much disorder. The attack of the Forsworn caused a pandemonium to spread on the camp, throwing almost everyone into disarray. I won’t lie, I was caught by surprise myself, but it is perhaps because of my rapidly growing experience with battles that I managed to not panic like most of my men were.

Lydia and another squire helped me put armour on and I grabbed my battle axe before exiting my tent.

“Shield walls!” I roared, voice booming like a thunder that cracked through the camp. “Where are the shield walls? Pick up your damn shields, you bastards. Do you want to die?!”

Then, as if finally h the first time, the men started to move. Guards moved, many of them hurrying to grab their shield, helmet or spear before returning to formation. Some of them died, some only got grazed by an arrow or two, leaving scratches that left them wide eyed and awake, not ready for battle, but more alert than others.

“Their arrows are not infinite!” I shouted another time. “Let them break on your shields! Let them see the might of your arms!” I yelled. I only hoped my archers were smart enough to do the same.

While not technically in charge of any troops, Aela had quickly become the figurehead of the archers and scouts, seen as a reference because she was part of my group. I did not know who led the archers, a subordinate of Emmanuel, who was my joint commander of the footmen and the infantry even if he seemed quite content to let me in charge to take most of the decisions that didn’t concern the Legion’s actions in battle. Whoever that person was I only hoped they were sensible enough to realise it would be a waste of arrows to try and shoot at the enemies.

Unironically, that was when I was alerted of the Forsworn running down the choke point to meet us, when an arrow flew past, zooming over my head whistling until it hit a shirtless man one inch to the left of his stomach. And then a hail of new arrows flew the other way to hit a dozen different targets.

The Forsworn didn’t even stagger. Something had to be said about an enemy that even when seeing their own comrades falling by the dozen around them didn’t stop charging until breaking on your shields.

“Steady!” I ordered, watching the shield wall take a reluctant step back. “Steady!”

There was another volley of arrows from my archers, a hail that downed another dozen of Forsworn.

“Spearmen!” I yelled. “Kill those bastards!”

The soldiers took a step forward, lowering their spears so the shafts got support from the shield’s rims before pulling back and thrusting forward. Soon, more and more Forsworn fell, apparently unconcerned with throwing their lives away. What I found most impressive was the fact not a single forsworn had a shield.

They had heavy weapons like warhammers and greatswords, some of them whose materials could range from iron to particularly large bones with a big stone wrapped around one tip; crude but rather effective protection in the form of their fur clothes - though many of them seemed content to go to battle half naked - and even magic at their disposition, not to mention the numerical advantage. And yet, despite all of those, the Forsworn still seemed to die by the droves. The only real casualties my men took were from a pair of hagravens causing havoc from afar casting numerous fireball spells and what not, until I shot them down with spells of my own. Aside from them, there were also the briarhearts which everyone knew to strike on the chest, where a pulsing, glowing heart beat, a glaring weakness from an otherwise brutal and violently powerful unit. That didn’t stop the briarhearts from causing damage, but it was comparatively minor to the chaos the hagraven’s magic caused.

“Push them back!” I shouted another order. “Strike them down! Don’t let them break your spears!”

Then, jumping right into the thick of fighting, I ushered a final command.

“Kill those bastards!”

My axe swung, a deadly black blur that beheaded a Forsworn. Lydia moved in right after me, thrusting with her sword on another one as I spun on my heels - a normally impractical move as I tried to reposition myself that I was able to pull it off in virtue of having allies close to me covering me - and took a step forward, an overdrawn swing ready that knocked a charging warrior from his feet, and then another whose shoulder and collarbone snapped, completely breaking underneath the strike that kept going, shattering ribs and cutting halfway to the man’s torso.

It was brutal, and gory, and the shock spells only made it all much more lethal. Chain lightning was a beast of a spell, continuing to move so long as there were enemies nearby for the lightning bolt to latch to, and enough magicka on them to feed the bolt for the jump. Understandably, it was a devastating spell, almost as destructive as a fire spell, certainly less risky, even considering the fact the spell could jump to one of my men. Hurling fireballs at the archers on the cliffs was also another thing I did whenever the opportunity arose. The fiery explosion was good to cause chaos and disrupt their lines of archers and quite a hit to their morale, considering the arrows slowly started to dwindle until they stopped.

That or their arrows simply ended and they came to join the battle.

Regardless, as soon as the aerial attack came to an end I had my men move from defence to the offensive and they were surprisingly effective.

Using spears was basic and rather intuitive, you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out you killed whoever you had to kill with the sharp, pointy metal end, and that you had a shield to protect yourself in case someone got too close. It’s why the spear ruled the battlefield, and probably will remain king until the invention of gunpowder and fire weapons. It’s also the reason why everyone and their mother used spears in historical battlefields, at least in the case of the peasants and conscripted small folk. The spear was a simple weapon, easy and cheap to make, easy to understand and deadly enough.

In the hands of moderately skilled mercenaries with admittedly rough tactics against an opponent that seemed remarkably unorganised - and that was something I still hadn’t wrapped my head around -, it was a bloodbath.

Men had their guts, ribs and throats punctured with holes sometimes three inches wide, where blood would pour profusely from. By then, another two or three Forsworn would have joined the first, and they would all die bleeding if they had luck, or with their guts spewing out on the floor depending if the pull back of the spearheads didn’t bring with them parts of impaled gut.

“Thane!”

“Fallback, Lydia,” I ordered, retreating myself to let the lines of guards go ahead of us. “Let them finish the job.” I told her, and the brunette nodded, taking a gulp of fresh air to comply.

I too felt thirsty for a moment.

Battles were a surprisingly tiresome affair. They didn’t leave me much exhausted or at least this one didn’t, not in a physical or mental sense; but extraneous activity still left me feeling in need of a drink.

“Let’s get back,” I declared to my housecarl, pointing out back to my tent with a nod of my head. “Drink something, put something in our stomachs. I bet you’re starving.”

“I wouldn’t be averse.” The shield maiden easily agreed.

The battle still raged when we got back, but my forces had definitely pushed back the Forsworn army that only now had started to take a more organised stance. From the distance, I could see a particularly big Briarheart joining the battle, his giant bone club shattering the shield of a man into splinters before hitting said man to crush his bones.

And then it came.

“Yol toor shul!”

The words reverberated in the air for a moment and then a sea of fire raineed from the skies, engulfing the earth below. The rocks and the very air hissed, sizzling as they burnt.

I almost choked on my mead and I sprung to my feet in an instant, taking hold of my axe before charging.

“DRAGON!” I roared.

Then, to my dismay, a dark chuckled laughter echoed in the air.

“Nust ag pruzah,” the second dragon muttered. “Nuz yoliil drehni ag ful frin. Vos zu’u genun hi vahzah yol.”

“Yol toor…”

“Fo krah diin!”

“Shul!”

A column of fire descended the sky, burning bright and hot just as the winds picked up and a gale of arctic cold air ascended. Frost and fire breath met each other, causing a curtain of thick mist to form.

“Hoh?” A third shadow loomed in the air. “Vun? Daar lost meyz kusahaal.”

Three dragons.

Three different dragons have just appeared.

“Retreat to Karthspire!” I roared to my army, something which they were quick to obey, the units of armoured soldiers rushing almost frantically to inside the cave. I just hoped they were smart enough to run to Sky Haven and not stay at the entrance of the cave.

Then, returning to face the three dragons I swallowed down my nervousness, grip tightening around the handle of my battle axe.

Akatosh give me strength, I prayed, because I didn’t think I’d have the power to do it on my own.

“Zu’u los ni Vun,” I shouted. “Zu’u los Magnus, zu’u los Dovahkiin! Wo los hi, zeymah?”

“Dovahkiin?” One of the dragons questioned. “Zu’u lostni koraavaan gein ko lingrah tiid, duraal ulfah. Zu’u hon hi du Mirmulnir?”

“Rok iidah zu’u,” I answered. “Zu’u krii rok fah yintaas wah gahrot fos los dii.”

“Hoh?” The three of them hummed. “To los vinik dov do hi, joor.”

“Zu’u los dov,” I stressed. “Vos mii gruz enook vorey ahrk zu’u fen genun hi.”

“Hah!” The trio laughed. “Hi mindok un strah. To seik hi vahzah Dovahkiin. Vir kusahaal.” The smaller of the three dragons - but still far larger than Mirmulnir had been - declared, circling in the air for a couple more laps, watching me intently even through the slowly dispersing mist. “Yolviingah enook hi, joor. Drem yol lock,” said the dragon after landing, and I stood in front of him. “Yol toor shul.”

Fire washed over me, a bright red flame that made me grit my teeth feeling my skin burn. It made me bristle and almost gasp in agony. It may sound obvious, but it burned. It burned hard, so impossibly hot for a moment I thought my armour would melt into my skin.

Then, in the blink of an eye it was over and I realised I wasn’t even feeling slightly scorched. I felt hot, but not burnt. Certainly, I didn’t appear to have any burns. Not even my armour looked to have been singed.

“Geh!” Yolviingah laughed, his massive maw stretching open to show a grin of rows upon rows of deadly sharp teeth. “Nu enook zu’u rigir!”

“Aye aye,” I muttered, snapping from my contemplation. “Magnus enook hi, zeymah! Drem yol lock.” I said, then I shouted. “Yol toor shul!”

This time I was the one breathing fire that hit the dragon squarely on his face. It didn’t even blink, letting my flame wash over its face before a satisfied smile spread over his face.

“Geh!” The dragon grinned. “Dovahkiin! Hin thu'um los sahrot!”

“Yolviingah,” one of the dragons that continued hovering above our heads called. His expression was severe, evil, with purple and black scales that glistened with Magnus’ pale light. “Alduin fusrot joor dinokii.”

“Bah!” The other orange dragon grunted, turning with his swivelling head to face the other one. “Alduin vis lost klovii, fah pah zu’u ulaak,” he said, and I tensed, ready for a fight. “Nuz mu vis enook voreykiin.”

“Zu’u lorfonaar til los ni aak ko dreh nii,” the final dragon decided, earning a huff from his  brother before finally the two of them landed. “Zu’u los Lokqobonir, joor.”

Lokqobonir was a pale dragon with silvery and white scales and a leaner body than the others. By no means that meant a smaller one, because he was long, and his wingspan dwarfed all the other dragons by quite a lot.

His breath was cold, freezing, like I imagine the cold in Atmora is like and it made my blood freeze in my veins for a moment, and I greeted him back with another usage of the Frost Breath shout, which seemed to earn a pleased look from the larger.

The last one to greet me called himself Yolusvulkrii and I felt as if he really wanted to kill me with his fire breath, but once again, I was left practically unharmed by the Shout, something that was leaving me even more perplexed and begrudgingly earned the dragon’s respect. Was I becoming… resistant to Shouts by virtue of having a dragon soul?

More things I had the faintest clue about, and that would have doubtlessly been of great help if I knew earlier.

Oh well, I thought to myself, shifting subtly as I watched the three dragons tense. Their bodies seemed to grow larger, slowly but steadily projecting themselves to a position where they’d be ready to pounce on me, or immediately launch themselves to the air as I was stared down by three unflinching gazes.

“Mu fen krif?” I asked, to which Lokqobonir nodded.

“Geh. Alduin laan dinokiil, ahrk hi los rut wah mii ol Dovahkiin.”

“Vogluuskei,” Yolviingah continued. “Hi fen lost wah dinok.”

Yolusvulkrii shouted.

“Yol toor shul!”

“Fo krah diin!” I shouted back.

Our shouts met and a new curtain of fog veiled our forms from each other. Not that it stopped from knowing where each other was. Aura Whisper was a Shout that allowed the user to see the vitality of the creatures around them, and the three dragons around me almost blinded me for a moment.

A moment that almost spelled my doom because through the mist Yolviingah jumped, leaping with an open maw that snapped close where I should have been. Fortunately for me, my stunned state only lasted for a second and I was able to dodge - by the way of desperately ducking - to the side, springing back to my feet in an instant, swirling and twisting with my axe to strike.

“... diin!”

“... shul!”

Burning hot and freezing cold.

Ice and fire hit me from two different angles and I screamed.

“Yyeeaaaaaarrrrrrrgggg!”

But still, even in pain my blade did not falter, the axe falling on the dragon to crash directly against Yolviingah’s jaw.

“Ung.” The dragon grunted, proceeding to leap to the air and dispersing the mist surrounding me. “Tuziil los suleykaar, Magnus.” Praised the orange dragon, and I had no doubt in my mind they would do their best to render normal attacks useless by staying in the air, circling me.

But I couldn’t let that happen, so I did the unthinkable. Or at the very least, very questionable.

I used telekinesis… on myself…

Telekinesis is a very versatile and straightforward spell in the school of Alteration. It used to belong to the school of Mysticism, but after that one was erased after the reformulation of the schools of magic, most of its spells went to either Alteration or Conjuration. Despite being a very technically difficult spell to use, it wasn’t a particularly hard one to understand - which then lends on to various academic debates on rather it should be considered an Apprentice or Adept level spell -, but it demanded quite a lot of a mage’s magicka reserve, something that is explained by its own matrix, the core of what makes telekinesis into telekinesis.

Essentially, the spell worked by enveloping the target item into the caster’s own magicka, and then through the usage of somatic components - that were really optional -, but primarily force of will and intent; control said target’s movements. Of course, as one would expect, that’s a very magicka intensive task, which is why the spell was ultimately classed as an Adept level spell. Weight also played an important role in the magicka consumption, which made the usage of the spell prohibitively costly on anything heavier than five pounds to most mages. Even still, its sheer versatility could surely make it into a Master level spell, except, no one ever seemed to use it.

I grabbed my armour- no, I grabbed myself with a roughly delicate invisible hand and willed myself to move, to leap into the air. Which then yanked my feet from the ground, lurching as I was hurled, practically thrown into the air to shoot straight like a missile to hit Yolviingah with full force.

Dragon and man grunted, and I was left completely dazed for a few heartbeats.

Almost slipping from the dragon, I managed to cling to his neck with the last of my strength before I whispered. “Gaan lah haas…”

Yolviingah gasped and I felt when he faltered, just as the moment we fell.

“Fus…” I cried, gripping my axe with both hands.

“Vey…” I declared, raising the axe above my head.

“Krii!” I demanded, my blade descending with unprecedented might.

The attack found purchase when the orange dragon lurched back, stabilising himself with a flap of wings that put it directly in my striking range.

The black blade met the scales protecting the neck of the dragon. They were tough, naturally, the greatest defence a being in Mundus could ever boast of having.

Even that was rendered nill by the supernatural edge of my blade and the inhumane power behind my swing. And as scales popped when they weren’t outright cut, flesh was rendered and then finally bone was severed.

The decapitated head of Yolviingah rolled in the air as his body crashed, lifeless. His eyes a murky white colour, milky, even, a haze dulling the gold orbs.

I landed roughly on the ground, grunting as I tumbled and rolled back to my feet. A breath I didn’t know I had been holding up until now left my leaps and I turned to meet the eyes of two dragons.

“Dovahkiin!” Yolusvulkrii roared with hate, “Zu’u fen krii hi!” Promised the dragon before diving down with a sweep attack.

“Zeymah!” Lokqobonir tried to call him, but by then the dark dragon had already initiated his mad charge.

He tried to catch me with his legs, like a bird of prey trying to catch a rodent, but I dodged. When he tried to burn me with his fire breath, I met it with my own frost one. Unlike Yolviingah, Yolusvulkrii wasn’t caught completely off guard by my frankly rather suicidal tactic, trying and even successfully diverting me and my path with flaps of his wing. But that didn’t stop me from hitting his wings with shock spells that did paralyse him, forcing the dragon to land.

There was an enraged cry and I was promised bloody murder when I went rushing to face the dragon.

Yolusvulkrii tried to burn me another time, just as Lokqobonir froze me over in an attack I realised was one the pair had used in the past. But I was relentless and with a mighty roar I surpassed the purple dragon’s flames.

“Yargh!” I yelled, blade crashing against the face of the dragon.

The grounded beast grunted, head recoiling with the force of my attack. His maw opened, ready to snap at me before another strike put its head once again on the ground.

It took me a moment.

“Fus vey krii!” I shouted, slamming my axe down.

Bone cracked as the dragon’s skull caved. His whole body rippled, shaking with the impact of my power, then he relaxed, body sagging like a puppet whose strings were cut.

I didn’t have time to dwindle however, because not a moment later and I was caught like a rodent by a bird of prey, and in the grip of Lokqobonir I struggled fruitlessly, the claws of the dragon tightening around me, easily piercing through the steel armour to puncture my flesh.

Lightning cloaked my body, and then fire, so much and so intense the white dragon saw himself forced to release me. But he knew I wouldn’t die that way, so his head dipped down and silver eyes stared directly at mine.

“Fus roh…” His lips moved.

“Feim!” I cried and the world around me shifted.

“Dah!”

The wave of kinetic power washed over me harmlessly and the dragon looked at me hatefully, turning mid air for a better attack position.

A heart beat later the world went back to normal, and I was still falling, so with another telekinetic pull I yanked myself, quite literally at the jaws of Lokqobonir and the dragon didn’t let the opportunity go to waste, opening his gaping maw, ready swallow me with a single bite.

“Yol toor shul!”

The words were too fast, faster than the dragon could react.

A gale of scorching fire erupted straight down the white dragon’s throat. The beast hissed and thrashed mid air, beginning to fall just like me.

“Gaan lah haas…” I whispered another, feeling the invigorating feeling of the dragon’s vitality transferring to me, weakening it even more.

The ground approached, becoming increasingly closer each instant.

“Dovahkiin,” Lokqobonir called, his voice weak and fragile. “You won.” The dragon declared, for once speaking the tongue of man.

I grit my teeth, taking a firmer hold on my axe and I breathed.

“Fus vey krii!”

The battle axe drew an arch, tearing the white dragon’s chest open with its deadly edge. The beast grunted, a pained, resigned sound, glaring all the way down until its back hit the rocks of the cliffs.

A moment later, the ground was upon me, and I saw only darkness.

-o-O-o-

Words in Dovahzul:

Names:

Yolviingah = Fire Wing Hunter

Lokqobonir = Sky Swift Hunt

Yolusvulkrii = Fiery Dark Kill

Shouts:

Yol toor shul = Fire Inferno Sun (fire breath)

Fo krah diin = Frost Cold Freeze (frost breath)

Gaan lah haas = Stamina Magicka Health (drain vitality)

Fus vey krii = Force Cut Kill (dubbed power slash? Sunder?)

Feim = Fade (first word of become ethereal)

Sentences:

Nust ag pruzah. Nuz yoliil drehni ag ful frin. Vos zu’u genun hi vahzah yol = They burn good. But your fire doesn’t burn so hot. Let me show you true fire.

Vun? Daar lost meyz kusahaal = A Tongue? This has become interesting.

Zu’u losni Vun. Zu’u los Magnus, zu’u los Dovahkiin! Wo los hi, zeymah = I am no Tongue. I am Magnus, I am Dragonborn! (And) Who are you, brothers?

Dovahkiin? Zu’u lostni koraavaan gein ko lingrah tiid, duraal ulfah. Zu’u hon hi du Mirmulnir = Dragonborn? I haven’t seen one in (a) long time, (you) accursed creature. I hear you devoured Mirmulnir?

Rok iidah zu’u. Zu’u krii rok fah yintaas wah gahrot fos los dii = He attacked me. So I killed him for daring to steal what’s mine.

To los vinik dov do hi, joor = That’s very dragon of you, mortal.

Zu’u los dov. Vos mii gruz enook vorey ahrk zu’u fen genun hi = I am (a) dragon. Let’s greet each other and I’ll show you.

Hi mindok un strah. To seik hi vahzah Dovahkiin. Vir kusahaal. Yolviingah enook hi, joor. Drem yol lock. Nu enook zu’u rigir = You know our ways. That means you (are a) true Dragonborn. How interesting. Yolviingah greets you, mortal. Greetings. Now greet me back.

Magnus enook hi, zeymah! Drem yo lock = Magnus greets you, brother! Greetings

Geh! Dovahkiin! Hin thu'um los sahrot = Yes! Dragonborn! Your voice is mighty!

Yolviingah, Alduin fusrot joor dinokii = Yolviingah, Alduin demands (the) mortal’s death.

Alduin vis lost klovii, fah pah zu’u ulaak. Nuz mu vis enook voreykiin = Alduin can have his head, for all I care. But we can at least greet another dragon.

Zu’u lorfonaar til los ni aak ko dreh nii. Zu’u los Lokqobonir, joor = I suppose there’s no harm in doing it. I am Lokqobonir, mortal.

Mu fen krif = We will fight, (then)?

Geh. Alduin laan dinokiil, ahrk hi los rut wah mii ol Dovahkiin = Yes. Alduin wants you dead, and you are a danger to us as Dragonborn.

Vogluuskei. Hi fen lost wah dinok = Unfortunately, you will have to die.

Tuziil los suleykaar, Magnus = Your blade is powerful, Magnus.

Zu’u fen krii hi = I’ll kill you!

Zeymah = Brother!

-x-X-x-

A/N: Good god, this one was a bitch and a half to write, in no small part because of translation. It's, like, only 200 words and it took me around five to six hours just to translate this much. Granted, I had to hunt words in a fan made dictionary but still...

Anyway, tell me your opinion on how the fighting went.