Dragonborn Ascendant (10)

A/N: Hey... I know I said I would have taken a break and post this on the 10th, but, suffice to say, I got really sick around that time and only now I've had the time to properly do things other than catch up with schoolwork and normal work.

Anyways, to all of you who are still for some reason still here - like seriously, three weeks of delay, I would have stopped being a patron in your position -, my most sincere thank you, both for your patience and your kindness.

Thank you! This is for you.

-x-X-x-

Ultimately, my chestplate proved itself unsalvageable, unfortunately. It was a shame, yes, but even then I had been lucky. The guardian had very nearly torn through the steel plates and still almost killed me with a single blow anyway.

Ebony weapons were vicious, I learned. Terribly dense and heavy, which made the enormous battleaxe terrific; the metal somehow managed to maintain a deadly sharp edge even after millennia had passed, which spoke incredibly of its resistance, but it was also soft in texture even if incredibly tough. Though I had to also reluctantly praise the draugr that wielded such a weapon. It took someone incredibly strong to wield it, and also superb skill to actually use such an unwieldy weapon with any effect or semblance of grace.

Regardless, after two days spent resting and recovering at the Sleeping Giant’s Inn - and sharing a bed with Aela, both of us pretty much naked, which was… better for me guard those memories - my shoulder and ribs didn’t feel like they would kill me anymore, outside of the occasional throb of pain here or there. But I trusted that some more usage of restoration spells and another potion or two would see me back to perfect health in a day or two. Which was why after selling the scrap metal of my armour to Alvor, we decided to leave Riverwood and deliver the Dragonstone to Farengar.

“Magnus!” The court wizard smiled at my sight. His face dropped for a moment when he eyed Aela with her arms crossed scowling at my side, but he still pushed through and waved at me welcomingly. “You have been away for a long time, my apprentice. Did you… did you find the Dragonstone as I requested?” Asked the mage, eyeing me expectantly.

I sighed, nodding quietly and slinging the bag from my back before opening the sack to procure for the particular piece. It was together with a scroll of paper in which I made a copy of the map for myself. “I did,” I told the older mage, handing him the stone slab. “Not an easy feat, I assure you. Bleak Falls Barrow was teeming with draugr, and although we managed to evade conflict for the most part, we nearly died a few times.”

Farengar grimaced, giving me a brittle smile. “I suppose,” he smiled awkwardly. “Though, since you find yourselves here then nothing truly tragic happened, I’m sure.”

“Farengar…” I muttered darkly, a frown tugging on my face.

“What about payment?” The fiery woman beside me piped in, taking a step forward to draw the court wizard’s attention. “You better have something incredible in store for me, or I’m taking that stone back to Jorrvaskr with me.”

“No, you can’t!” Farengar jumped back, shielding the stone with his body before he threw a withering glare at the redhead over his shoulder. “This stone is extremely important to my research, mayhaps even a key to defend ourselves in case a dragon ends up attacking Whiterun!”

“Dragons?” Aela snorted, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Dragons are dead, and not a single one was seen in aeons.” She shook her head. “Regardless, you better enchant my bow if you don’t want to pay me with gold, and it will be an enchantment I choose, otherwise…”

“Fine! Fine! I understand!” The dark haired Nord grumbled. “Go talk with the jarl to ascertain such matters… you brute of a woman…” he muttered quietly.

Quietly for his standards at least.

Aela scowled and clicked her tongue. Turning on her heels, she grabbed my arms. “Come, Magnus.” And she dragged me away until we only stopped in front of Balgruuf.

The man greeted us with a smile that spoke well to his mood, and agreed quickly to have Aela’s bow as her reward for her contribution in retrieving the Dragonstone. Then he turned to me.

“I see you found quite the treasure at Bleak Falls to claim for yourself, my friend,” the blonde stated, giving a meaningful look to my axe that… I wasn’t going to leave it away from my person until such a moment I’d have a pocket dimension to store things for myself… Which would be next priority and on top of my list of things to do once I go to Winterhold and join the College.

That and teleporting, because fuck walking.

“I did,” I nodded, smiling proudly and puffing my chest. “I pried it from the dead fingers of the draugr at the end of the tomb, a terrible monster that would have fit into your legends.”

“So you say,” he raised an eyebrow. “And I do not doubt you. I see that you lost your armour, however. So along with the gold you were promised, I think it would be fair if I awarded you with a new piece out of my own armoury. What do you think, eh?”

“You are generous, Balgruuf.” I bowed slightly and the man chuckled.

“I reward good warriors who serve me and I favour particularly those whose employment I wish to maintain,” he said, waving with a hand. ”And you are one such man, Magnus. You will find plenty of other jarls and men with power will think similarly to me. We are greedy people, and we wish to maintain ourselves prosperous.”

“Something everyone wants to do.” I nodded.

“Aye,” Balgruuf nodded. He opened his mouth. “I have been-”

“My jarl!” A rispid voice cut through the air and we all turned to see Irileth as she rushed from the footsteps, leading a guardsman trailing behind her. Her expression was taut tense, a frown on her face, lips tucked tightly. She looked tense and combative, ready for a fight.

It was a reaction of fight or flight she had, one that developed in warriors that often found themselves in dangerous situations.

“Irilieth,” Balgruuf exclaimed with a hard frown on his face. “What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself!” He demanded.

“My jarl!” Irileth breathed, coming to a stop before the Nord. “A dragon has attacked the Western Watchtower!”

“What?!” Balgruuf’s eyes widened, and he wasn’t the only one to gasp in surprise.

“It’s true,” the Dark Elf nodded, motioning to the man behind her. He was a redhead like Aela, had a busted lip and his freckled face was mated with grime and sweat, making his pale skin look ghostly white and even more grimmier. “One of the guardsmen came to warn of the attack.”

“You there,” the jarl pointed to the mentioned man. “Step up, speak what you saw!”

“Y-yes, my lord,” the redhead stuttered, hesitating for a moment. “We were attacked at dusk, a-and the dragon came from the West, flying with the sunset on its back. I-it ambushed us, sire. It picked us from each other one by one, b-but when we started to shoot arrows at it then it started to breathe fire on us. I was sent here… took a horse and pushed the ride exhausted to come as quickly as possible, but…”

“You’ve done me a great service, lad,” Balgruuf said to the downtrodden man. He clasped his hand on his shoulders and the man flinched, but looked up to meet the jarl’s eyes. “Take a rest now, go to the barracks, find some food and beer to drink. You deserve it.”

“I-I-” the man ducked his head, avoiding meeting the blonde’s gaze. “Y-yes, my jarl.” He eventually settled with, also giving a slight bow.

“Irileth, gather the best riders in the guard,” The Nord commanded the Dunmer woman, who bowed saying “At once, my jarl.” before he turned to face me. “Magnus… This is a big favour I’m asking of you, but… could you perhaps accompany my men?” The noble requested, looking at me with pleading eyes. “You are the only one amongst any of us that has dealt with dragons before. Your experience would be invaluable.”

Experience? I wanted to laugh, but instead I sighed.

I had to fight Mirmulnir, after all.

“I’ll join them,” I nodded. “They’ll need a mage’s help.”

Balgruuf saged, visibly deflating as a relieved sighed left his lips. “Thank you my friend,” he said. “I will owe you a kingly reward for this, but it will be worthy, I know.”

I smirked. “Then you better have my gold ready for when I return,” I told him, turning on my heels and leaving with due hastiness.

Aela fell in step with me.

“I’m going with you,” she said, and I held the urge to sigh. "I want to see if this dragon thing is true."

Instead I worked my jaw for a moment before clicking my tongue. “I should have figured,” I grumbled, pointedly not looking at the woman and the victorious smirk she sported. “You are still not good though.” I pointed out.

She raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Better than you.” I said and she scoffed.

Irileth awaited for us at the gates of Whiterun together with some fifteen armoured men, all of them with horses ready before she offered me the reins of a brown courser which Aela and I mounted together, taking off in short order. We rode under the night sky with the lights of Messer and Secunda guiding us, cutting through the open plains and fields of Whiterun like a storm, each galloping of a horse spreading the sound of thunder through the tundra. On the dark horizon we could see a bright spot of orange light approaching in the distance, and the pillar of pitch black smoke rising above it, spurring the riders to drive their horses faster.

When we arrived at the watchtower, we saw a destroyed mess. The place had been wrecked, the guardhouse adjacent to the tower - the only thing that was somewhat whole even if not intact - had been utterly destroyed, the walls crumbled, roof flung away and everything inside of it just simply destroyed. The beds, tables, chests, barrels, boxes and cranes filled with equipment and provisions were either destroyed or smashed, or burnt.

There was not a single body we could see.

"Make a perimeter," Irileth ordered the guards. "Spread yourselves and keep your eyes out. Archers, to the tower, see if there's anything salvageable there."

"Stay with a torch or any source of light next to you," I added my own input. "And don't stray away from where we can easily see you."

“Scared?” The Dunmer woman turned to ask me with a quiet voice.

“Bloody terrified,” I silently told the woman as we walked to the watchtower. “It’s a dragon we are dealing with, Irilieth. The last one I saw razed down a town like Helgen when there was a legion stationed there.”

“You make it sound like we doomed ourselves to a lost fight, mage.”

“Not lost,” I shook my head. “But a damn hard one. Dragons are the apex, the strongest things on Mundus outside of the Aedra and the Daedric Princes themselves.” I told the woman. “And we are fighting one of them. If we are lucky, then it won’t be the one I saw at Helgen, otherwise… Well, it was an honour fighting alongside you, Irileth, because I’m sure it won’t allow any survivors this time.” I said, watching as the woman pursed her lips.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She ended up muttering as we came inside the tower.

Seeing my dismissal, I went upstairs to prepare myself.

Creating a protective barrier wasn’t such a difficult thing to do once you knew how to anchor spells to manifest them on something. Learning runes taught me how to do this, something that, all things considered, wasn’t at all complicated. You had to use a movement matrix on the spell so it could turn into a projectile you could cast wherever you want, even on far away places; and then, the most complicated part, make so the spell matrix didn’t enter in effect immediately after hitting the spot you wanted, and in fact stayed in place to only activate after a new set input, drawing ambient magicka to fuel its activation and the subsequent spell.

Really, knowing that all I had to do was alter a ward spell so it could be placed down and then added a few tweaks, so it could layer and work in tandem with order similar spells if they were arranged into a certain pattern for communication, augmenting the protection further.

This was perhaps the most advanced spell I knew. Certainly the most complex and one I believe unique to myself, created over a few weeks of travel in preparation for this battle in particular. How effective it would be against a dragon, or really, anything at all, was still up to question because this was the first time I tested this spell, but I felt optimistic. Hopeful even. Still, it was a dragon putting the wards to test, and that made me worry for obvious reasons.

After putting down a dozen different wards through the tower and making sure that it could probably withstand a shout, everything seemed to ultimately boil down to a waiting game.

Time had settled at that point, and the skies darkened, clotted with the smoke of the destructed tower and the hanging cloud looming over our head, passing with the chilling north east wind. An anxious mood settled amongst the man, a certain fearful expectation that didn’t fail to make me tense in anticipation myself. The guards moved around and every other minute they checked amongst each other and their own equipment, some would grab their swords, others inspected their axes, and a few would even point out their spears at shadows in the distance.

The wait was unnerving.

“It's watching us,” Aela muttered, not low enough so neither Irileth or I could hear her words.

“What do you mean, huntress?” The red haired Dunmer asked the fiery Nord, regarding the other woman with a frown.

“Dragons are hunters,” the Companion started, and my eyes narrowed as they focused on the outside. “The greatest hunters there are. If there’s still a dragon out there, then it’s watching us. Like a predator stalking its prey, waiting.”

The shadows moved and it was dark and hard to see, and I wouldn’t be using a spell to lighten up the area, not yet at least. The men were unsettled, feeling fearful and restless.

My eyes found themselves following a pair of guardsmen a bit more distant from the tower than the others.

“You think it could have left?” Irileth questioned.

The light of their torches flickered before dropping to the ground.

“It didn’t,” I muttered darkly, storming to the top of the tower before they could stop me to clarify. “Ready your arrows!” I ordered, willing my magicka to shape up into a magelight spell.

When the little ball of light hit the highest it could it then expanded like a miniature star, casting a bright white and blue light over the fields and revealing the hunched form of a dragon mauling the corpses of the guards, chewing them as if they were food or toys. The massive reptilian body, as big as a bolder then moved and shifted, seemingly growing bigger before a thick and long bestial head slithered and stared upwards, eyes narrowing at me and  the spell I had just cast.

The slitted amber eyes of the beast narrowed, but it chuckled good naturedly. “Pruzah drehlaan, joor,” the dragon said with a rumbling voice. “Zu’u ofan daar wah hi. Nuz nu nii los tiid wah oblaan daar mal nir.” And then the flying beast flapped its wings and with minimal effort took off to the air.

My eyes snapped to the soldiers staring dumbfoundedly beside me. “What are you waiting for? Open fire!” I ordered, snapping the men out of their stupor.

“Hi bovortii groiil, joor,” the dragon said another time, more forcefully while making turns in the air, staring down on us with fierce eyes. And then those eyes narrowed when after a moment of stumbling, arrows started to fly at him. Growling he continued. “Zu’u fen hi dok  wah vogahvonni dovah!” And then he dove down.

“Yol…”

“Get back!”

“Toor…” I willed the wards to life.

“Shul!”

A barrier winked into existence, encasing the tower in a bubble of protection just as an inferno was rained upon us. I threw my own ward together with the mix, feeling the strain on the barrier as fire crashed and pressured more and more the protections, to a point I grit my teeth, feeling myself sweat and tire as I pushed back.

And then it suddenly stopped.

“Hi yin!” The dragon growled, as if the air didn’t scorch or I looked more exhausted than even my fight with the guardian of the Dragonstone. “Uzgrolein!” Its voice boomed like thunder, making my heart hammer with its sound alone. Slitted eyes stared directly at me. “Hi fen aus fah daar bozikaar!” Promised the dragon before taking off another time.

“Keep firing!” I relayed another time. “Aim for the wings!” Was my order before I went downstairs.

“Magnus,” Irileth greeted me. She had a hard look on her face, voice unwavering, but her twitching fingers betrayed the fear and nervousness hidden behind her mask. “You managed to protect us.”

“Not for long,” I grunted, picking up my new battleaxe. “That lone attack almost shattered the ward runes I set in place, if it does a breath attack another time…”

“Right,” she nodded. “We’ll have to keep it on the field then. Fuck.”

“Exactly,” I laughed. “You can use magic, right? Any ice spells in your repertoire?” I asked with a raised eyebrow, giving the Dunmer a sidelong glance.

“Sadly,” she grimaced, and that was already enough of an answer for me, “Shock and fire spells are my main specialties.” Irileth said, and I worked my jaw for a moment, closing my eyes to think.

Shouts didn’t use magicka, so that particular effect was entirely useless, but shock was indeed the most damaging of the three branches anyway. I would have preferred frost so that way maybe, possibly, Mirmulnir could have been slowed down, even if minimally; but I could live with this trade off even if it didn’t please me much. I would need to be extremely more careful with this, even if being careful was entirely pointless in the situation I was in already.

My fists clenched and unclenched reflexively.

“It could be worse,” I decided with a sigh.

The men were in chaos as we left the tower, disarrayed and unorganised; scattered across the plains, the guardsmen were easy targets for Mirlmunir to pick out at his own lasure.

“Hi los zofaas do mii?” I roared, casting another magelight. “Zofaas do zey?”

“Zofaas? Do joor? Do hi?” The dragon returned with a furious below. “Hi pahlokaal reimokur! Mirmulnir faas ni joor, rok velaaz von niin!” He declared, forcing me to grin.

“Dreh hi?” I returned. “Krif zey ruz! Gevahzen hi los zofaasni!”

“Hi pahlokaal reimokur, hi lost nid ris wah jur zey, joor!” The dragon roared, though its distinctive form snivelled through the air for a moment or two before dividing. With a dull thud that made the entire ground tremble, MIrlmunir landed, shifting until his snarling face looked directly at me.

Rows of sharp teeth, each the size of a sword, moved as the armoured scales shifted.

I shivered.

“Zu’u fen genun hi tozeiniil.”

“Yol…”

My axe swung. “Yargh!”

“Toor shu- ulgh!”

The blade hit against the dragon squarely on the beast’s jaw, and although the shout was completed - a torrent of bright fire so hot it could melt rock streaming from its mouth like water through the rapids of a river -, the impact caused by the ebony weapon and the strength behind it were enough to contort its head sufficiently that the aim of the attack was completely thrown off.

“Hi yin!” Mirlmunir hissed, but I didn’t let him.

“Zu’u dreh!” I roared back with another swing.

The dragon took, weathering the blow with its impossibly tough jaw, scales blistering and some even popping off from the impact but otherwise coming out of it unscatched.

“Rrraargh!” A maddened snarl left the dragon’s lips. A lightning bolt was shot at his mouth. “Di- Argh! Hi gaas-!” My axe moved. “Grah!” And I think a wing was snapped.

I think, because the next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, feeling all of my ribs shattered and my lungs just simply refusing to breathe.

I think I broke my tibia too when I hit the ground metres away with a deaf thud. I might have sprained my legs too, pulled something or hit my head, I didn’t know, it was hard to… It was hard to feel, to even think with the pain.

It was weird.

As my vision swam and darkness started to creep on the corners of my eyes, I saw something, a woman, I think. She was beautiful, her face was fierce but lovely, delicate yet hard, soft but strong. She looked at me with distraught, desperate eyes, and that made me frown. I… I didn’t like that look on her face. It made me feel like I did something wrong. Ah- I blinked, my vision becoming clear for a moment, this was Aela, I realised. But why was she looking that way at me?

I’m not-...

I’m…

I’m dying… wasn’t I?

I was. I could feel it. The strength leaving my bones, the exhaustion settling in and the cold.

I felt cold. So, so cold. But… I didn’t hate it. I felt comfortable with the cold. It was embracing, it soothed my soul and dulled the pain until it left my mind.

I was dying…

I… I didn’t want to die…

If… If I died now I wouldn’t be able to fuck Aela, that bitch… Or get Lydia as my housecarl to have a pack mule around to explore dungeons with… Or find Serana, the love of my life… even if I wasn’t able to marry her… though maybe… maybe I could marry her now…

I… wouldn’t be able to learn magic if I died, right? I didn’t want that.

And I learned to shout too; and I wanted to meet with Paarthurnax yet! And- and I wanted to just tell Delphine to fuck off…

And…

And I wouldn’t die. Not yet. Not so soon.

A whisper escaped my lips.

“Laas.”

I gasped, my eyes widened and I coughed blood, feeling my body rearranging itself. Bones settling in place, muscles mending, internal bleedings stopping and fixing themselves. It was a rush, and as I blinked, I found myself standing bruised and in pain, but alive nonetheless, and that was enough for me.

“Magnus?” I think I heard, but the words were lost on me because I found my hands around the shaft of my axe, and I was soon marching to the dragon being assaulted by all sides. I noted then, distinctly, that the watchtower had been set on fire, and it was now only a pillar of bright incandescent flames burning like the fires of Oblivion. “Magnus! Magnus, you can’t go there, you’ll-” A set of hands grabbed me by my shoulders and made me turn. It was Aela, and…

She looked scared, biting her lip. She was afraid. Anxious, nervous.

My eyes hardened as she swallowed a lump on her throat and cupped my face in a surprisingly tender manner.

“Magnus, please,” she whispered, an unmistakable quiver of fear in her voice. “I don’t know what you did, but you are only going to get yourself killed if you go fight that dragon. Don’t waste your life like that.” She pleaded.

And… She was right, but…

I turned, tearing my face away from her hands, and for a moment I thought I saw a hurt expression flashing through her face as a hot breath left my nostrils. “I’ll do it, Aela.”

“Magnus,” she insisted, taking hold of me another time. “Please.”

“I have to do this,” I took her hands away, voice harsh and forceful. Angry, even. I was… angry. Why? “I have to.”

When her hands went to grab me another time, I had already left too far out of her range.

“Magnus…” Her whisper carried through the wind, and I could hear a tone of remorse and sorrow.

I shook my head.

Aela… I couldn’t think of her, and I couldn’t let my mind play tricks on me. Not right now. No, I had to focus on Mirmulnir and this fight.

The dragon seemed battered, hurt, though that could have been because one of its wings was clearly broken. My gift to him. But even as lightning hit against the dragon’s scales, he absolutely did not react, as if the spell didn’t even faze him. And the soldiers fighting around him… It was a bloodbath. Swords and spears did nothing to him, iron and steel couldn’t easily pierce that armour, and despite being grounded, Mirmulnir was still very much deadly with only its jaws and tail.

The appendage cracked like thunder, moving at blinding speeds, and every time it did a man was flung in a boneless heap, dead almost instantly. The jaws, when they snapped around someone, they crushed the soldier’s torso and what was not crushed was pierced and mauled by those vicious teeth, tearing through the padded armour as a hot knife cutting through butter.

It was scary.

Terrifying.

Mirmulnir was terrifying.

Dragons were terrifying.

I grit my teeth, face hardening as my legs moved faster and I ran just a bit harder.

I am a dragon too.

I raised my axe, rushing. Blood pumped through my veins as the fight became increasingly closer. I felt hot, almost as if I was burning. It was the most alive I ever felt.

I enjoyed this, I realised.

I swung. “Yargh!”

With a surge of inhuman strength my axe fell, hitting against Mirmulnir’s back leg with all of my might causing scales to pop from its hind legs and fall to the ground as the ebony axe head torn and shred through scale and muscle alike, only truly stopping at the bone.

The dragon’s head snapped back with a howl of pain, but I was moving too fast for it to retaliate in time.

The axe cracked and Mirmulnir howled another time when the blade cut its tail until the edge bit against bone.

“Mun sahlojoor! Viir!” The dragon turned, opening his mouth with a shout ready, “Yol toor shul!” And I braced myself, feeling the fire burn.

I howled, maddened with pain. But I moved, and I stepped until Mirmulnir and I faced each other.

Then my axe swung.

“Hi!” I roared, relishing at the flash of surprise going through the dragon’s eyes as his head recoiled from my attack. My blade blurred. “Fen!” Again. “Ni!” Again. “Dir!” And again. And each time my axe connected with the dragon, the beast shook and retreated, a new wound opening at every strike.

But I didn’t stop there. No. I attacked again, and again and again and another time, because Mirmulnir still lived, and he had to die.

The axe swung.

“Ugh!” The dragon cried, jerking as I felt, finally, one of the vertebras of its neck snapping under the continued assault.

The dragon twitched before its body went limp and he fell. Dead. Though he chuckled, amused as I fell to the ground right beside him; a huff of steaming air escaping his nostrils as a bruised eye turned to look down on me.

“Hi los balus kendov, joor,” the dragon reluctantly admitted, heavy eyelids closing as its breath started to even out. “Grik aazrii hi los nu botaas wah dir. Zu’u los Mirmulnir, ahrk zu’u daahmaaniin hi, kendov.”

“Zu’u fenni dir,” I managed to rasp out, but in reality I really felt like I was on my last legs. The dragon chuckled. “Zu’u fenni.”

I burnt, inside and outside, and not only because of the breath of fire I accepted to my face. No, exhaustion ate at my insides, and I felt bleeding and sore, and aching, as if all of my muscles had been put through a grindstone and my bones powdered til they turned into a fine dust. Even thinking felt sluggish. But I pushed through, and I licked my lips, trying to moisten them even if my tongue and throat felt even drier than my mouth to a point of burning.

I panted, watching the darkness quickly overtaking my vision.

“Zu’u dahmaaniin hi, Mirmulnir.”

My eyes closed.

Vaguely, I think I heard a cry.

“Dovahkiin?!”

It must have been my imagination.

Words in dovahzul:

Pruzah drehlaan, joor. Zu’u ofan daar wah hi. Nuz nu nii los tiid wah oblaan daar mal nir = Well done, mortal, I give this to you. But now it’s time to end this little hunt.

Hi bovortii groiil, joor = You exceed your bounds, mortal.

Zu’u fen hi dok wah vogahvonni dovah! = I’ll show you cur to not defy a dragon!

Hi yin! Uzgrolein! Hi fen aus fah daar bozikaar! = You dare! Absurd! You will suffer for this boldness!

Hi los zofaas do mii? Zofaas do zey? = Are you scared of us? Scared of me?

Zofaas? Do joor? Do hi? Hi pahlokaal reimokur! Mirmulnir faas ni joor, rok velaaz von niin! = Scared? Of a mortal? Of you? You arrogant vermin! Mirlmunir fears no mortal, he feasts upon them!

Dreh hi? Krif zey ruz! Gevahzen hi los zofaasni! = Do you? Fight me then! Prove that you are not scared!

Hi pahlokaal reimokur, hi lost nid ris wah jur zey, joor! = You arrogant vermin, you have no place to challenge me, mortal!

Zu’u fen genun hi tozeiniil = I will show you your error.

Hi yin! = You dare!

Zu’u dreh! = I do!

Hi gaas-! = You filthy-!

Laas = Life.

Mun sahlojoor! Viir! = Human pest! Die!

Hi. Fen. Ni. Dir = I. Will. Not. Die!

Hi los balus kendov, joor. Grik aazrii hi los nu botaas wah dir. Zu’u los Mirmulnir, ahrk zu’u daahmaaniin hi, kendov = You were a worthy warrior, mortal. Such a pity you are now going to die. I am Mirmulnir, and I will remember you, warrior.

Zu’u fenni dir. Zu’u fenni. = I won’t die. I won’t.

Zu’u dahmaaniin hi, Mirmulnir = I will remember you, Mirmulnir.

Dovahkiin! = Dragonborn!

-x-X-x-

A/N: As I said before, my most sincere gratitude to everyone who stuck around for this.

I'll also try to post chapter 11 and 12 today, but if I'm not able, then tomorrow I definitely will, and next week we'll be back to the normal schedule.