Having offered their insults and challenges, both the rebels and loyalists focused on the only thing that mattered more than their motivations from that point on. That being making their enemy very, very dead.
Thorfinn wasted no ti in aggressively slashing at Thorgrim while attempting to slip his dagger in between his armor plates. The old guardsman was skilled and experienced but his disdain for magic put him at a massive disadvantage when facing his forr comrade.
Yet for all his aggression, the young Nord could only inflict the barest of wounds with his magically sharp blades, swiftly covering his elder in many a surface cut but doing no great damage in truth.
Realizing that he has no great advantage in lee Thorfinn tried destruction magic, a wave of flas lashing out toward the traitorous guardsman but being hateful of magic did not make Thorgrim stupid.
The old man dodged the flas with practiced ease and whatever flas managed to catch his form were absorbed by his rune covered shield, ancestral runes of protection, of course, nothing to do with magic.
Thorfinn ground his teeth in frustration and prepared himself for a prolonged battle, the loud twang of a crossbow and the pained screams of a traitor on fire swiftly assuring him that ti was most assuredly on his side. Besides, those nurous cuts ought to add up at so point, right?
On the other end of the chamber, two far more powerful combatants were quite literally making waves in the battle as their weapons clashed against each other and spells blasted the ancient hall all around them, only the enchantnts set by the Jarl's ancestors allowing the structure to remain standing.
Hjolmir's mace smashed into the blade of the Stormcloak only to be redirected aside and crash into the nearby wall with an explosion of force. Wasting no ti, his opponent attempted to retaliate with a rapid upper thrust but that was swiftly forced aside by Hjolmir's pauldron as he went in for a shield bash which was then promptly evaded by a supernaturally swift dodge to the side.
The duo of veterans glared at each other for but a mont before they once more engaged in their thunderous duel, none of them seemingly being able to hurt the other. But what the Stormcloak failed to account for was the sheer breadth of Hjolmir's skill at magic as each ti the Guard Captain managed to score the tiniest advantage he would use it to burden the traitorous guard fighting the housecarls.
It was a bunch of slight things, a telekinetic tug here, a blast of paralysis there but it all swiftly added up to over a dozen dead traitors before the Stormcloak noticed.
"You would mock our battle like this?!" The agent of Ulfric snarled.
Hjolmir openly rolled his eyes "I am not one of you idiots who think we should return to running across the snows with no more than a re kilt and good intentions, and you seem to have forgotten sothing traitor."
"And what is that?" He asked as he took the opportunity to calm his breathing and prepare for another clash.
Hjolmir smirked as he sensed a massive aura approach "This was never a battle to begin with."
Before the Stormcloak could question what his foe was on about a side door to the room was utterly incinerated before anyone could blink and over a dozen heavily armored Dunri warriors surged in, all of them following a figure that caused no end of worry to the Stormcloak cause.
Reyvin Fla-tongue, the near-legendary Court Mage of Skyrim looked over the scene that greeted him with barely hidden disdain before he spoke, his voice pulled straight out of a nightmare "Well, this sure is a nice party." A blade radiating such power it sent shivers down the spine of all those present flicked into his previously empty hand "Why was I not invited?" (Reyvin's POV)
Before I could utter another word the Stormcloak looking motherfucker pulled out an intricately written scroll and activated it without a hint of hesitation, my hand shot up imdiately, sending out a blast of laser-like crimson fire at his head but he was gone before it could reach him, instead, the spell blasted out a good chunk of the enchanted walls and the room behind them.
While I was 'distracted' Thorgrim, the old fart who once helped defeat both Thalmor and Telvanni, attempted to throw himself at axe first but simply ended up flying helplessly due to grasping him with telekinetic tendrils and holding him up like an unruly child.
As Scorch went to work healing the young Jarl and my warriors positioned themselves to assist the loyalists I looked at the collection of stunned rebels with harsh scrutiny, most of them had the good sense to imdiately drop their weapons when I blew off the wall and those that did not were either skewered by a halberd or killed by the remaining housecarls.
Instead of pontificating at them I simply called out "Davos."
Only the slightest shadowy movent atop the room's ceiling inford of his position as he soundlessly flopped down right next to , his crossbow still aid at the enemy "Hey there boss."
The rebels glared at him with barely restrained fury, the many people-shaped scorch marks on the ground easily informing as to why.
Before I could speak once again Thorgrim decided to remind of his existence "You filthy fucking knife-!" His jaw slamd shut just in ti for him to bite off the tip of his tongue as I raised my hand dismissively.
"Shush, the adults are talking." I didn't even look at him and instead focused on Davos "Is this all of them?" I asked.
"All of the combatants from what I gather." He replies calmly "The only leader left unaccounted for is the priest but he should be sowhere in the streets from what I rember."
"Mhm" I nodded while staring down an enthusiastic rebel guardsman "And the rioters?"
Another shadowy figure appears next to Davos and whispers sothing to him, he nods and says "They were mostly detained, only a group around the abandoned Talos temple remains.' The sound of the Jarl thanking Scorch for his healing and the bird responding with "You are welco lordly n'wah" drew my attention back to the room.
"Jarl Assur" I spoke to the young man, distracting him from Scorch's shenanigans "What do we do with these traitors?"
He looked over the now disard traitors with a mix of pity and anger "Have them all chained, we will hold a trial as honor demands."
I had to admit, seeing him force his fury down like that did give a bit of respect for him "Very well." I nod and my warriors swiftly get to work "Do you wish to join in hunting the
priest down?"
He thought about it for a mont before shaking his head reluctantly "I better remain here and ensure order, you should take soone with you though."
I nodded and imdiately turned to my friend "Oi, Thorfinn. Wanna beat up a priest?"
He sighed "Why must you word it like that."
"Because it is fun." I snark back "Co on then, Davos you stay here and make sure no one does sothing funny." I trail off and suddenly turn to a now bound Thorgrim "Before I forget, a parting gift for you, you complete and utter failure of a person." I make a twisting motion with my grasping hand, leaving behind the sound of a crack followed by animalistic
screams.
As we exited the keep Thorfinn asked "Did you just..."
I turn to him with a raised eyebrow "Do you really want to know?"
He gulped, his face paling a bit "No, I think not."
"Wise." I quip as we walk deeper into the city, toward the old temple.
'Oi Scorch, remind to make a counterasure for teleportation.' I ntally ssage my
familiar who was still busy healing the wounded loyalists.
'Should have thought of that already you complete and utter dumbass' He chirps back.
'Fuck off, I was busy setting shit on fire.'
'Understandable'
It took us very little ti to reach the old temple, Winterhold being relatively small for a city and all that, everywhere we went we could see a bunch of guards questioning the unruly locals
and sotis outright beating the non-compliant rioters.
Human rights? What is that, so kind of food?
Speaking of an utter lack of human rights, the mont I stepped near the old temple the sight that greeted caused to let out an uncontrollable "What in the actual fuck!?"
(Minor Flashback, General POV)
The rabble rousing priest led the rioters in storming the city just as planned, and when the guards started suppressing them he started retreating them toward the temple, all the while encouraging them with word of their gods.
It was a delaying strategy and he knew it. If his associates failed to capture the Jarl in ti and secure the city before the mages got impatient he would no doubt be shipped off to the Thalmor out of sheer spite.
Soon they truly were pushed all the way back to the temple, a bunch of lesser magi blocking off escape routes that would allow the rioters to cause further chaos while a shieldwall of wooden bat wielding guardsn kept punishing any who would try and fight back. As they were finally surrounded the priest chose to give his flock one final speech, to embolden them into resisting for as long as possible. But the mont he tried to speak his words caught in his throat and he couldn't utter a sound.
Soon he noticed that all of the rioters had fallen onto the ground, he knew not why and he had no ti to ponder as he found himself completely and utterly locked in place by an invisible
force.
His answer ca swiftly and without rcy as the ground split and a living legend stepped out in front of the guards. The priest could admit, rather easily, that seeing Tolfdir Ebon- frost in the flesh glaring at him would have made him shit his pants on the spot if he were able to do it but the spell that held him prevented even that.
The ancient mage stepped toward the priest, or more accurately insurgent, and spoke in what
was barely a whisper yet carried across half the city "It would seem" Each word he spoke was like a hamr striking the mind of all who heard him "That people have forgotten what I did
to the last batch of fools who thought they could make trouble in MY city."
His eyes held no rcy as he muttered "Kindly allow to remind you."
And then as if he were taking apart a roll of parchnt Tolfdir ripped off the priest's jaw in
one swift move.
The man couldn't even scream as he was quite literally disassembled on the spot.
(Reyvin's POV)
The perfectly clean and pointedly not bloody form of Tolfir turned in my direction "Co
now Reyvin, manners make the man as they say."
"I am r." I quip back.
"Don't get cheeky with ." He smirks, his voice his carrying all of his usual kindness all the
while he utterly ignored the sea of gore and queasy guards surrounding him.
"Wha-?" Thorfinn usefully added.
"Co on then" Tolfdir clapped his hands, wisely deciding not to explain himself "All this
hard work so early in the morning calls for a nice al, my treat of course." He turns toward
the part of the crowd he didn't decide to murderify for whatever reason "I am feeling rather hungry after all." He mutters with a wicked grin.
As he walked off I heard Thorfinn mutter "Remind to never, ever piss him off."
I scoff and start walking "If you need reminding of that then it is just natural selection at that
point."
He flips the bird and starts jogging after Tolfdir, I cast one last look at the scene of carnage, think of the words 'natural selection', shrug my shoulders, and follow after them.
The traitors have paid in stone, and so shall you!
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