(General POV)
Vayrin of Great House Indoril, Priest of Azura, and rising star within his household, found himself rather confused as he marched faster than he ever thought reasonable, his small group trailing behind the trotting horses of the legion cohort with only two pack guars between them.
On the one hand his quest in seeking the ssenger of the gods was going quite well as he managed to ingratiate himself sufficiently to follow along as Boethiah's work was to be done.
On the other hand...
"So she made a whole ass dramatic reveal and everything?" Said ssenger of the gods was currently laughing his ass off as Vayrin told him of the prophesy of Ald' Ruhn and the words of Azura "Good thing I noped straight out of that!"
A beat of silence passes.
"You..." Vayrin's brain stopped for a mont "You 'noped' out of it?"
"Oh yeah" Lord Dagoth chuckles as his two companions follow wordlessly "Dealing with prophesies is a chore so I just told her I would do my own thing."
Vayrin shared what he thought was a subtle look with the two Ashlanders but neither Massour nor Massanor felt like butting into the straight up smite worthy blasphemy going on right
now.
By all the Good Daedra, Vayrin could even feel his patron's consternation!
Or at least a tiny part of him registered it as such.
(Reyvin's POV)
Damn, trolling the starry eyed little shit is too funny.
Best give him so ti to recover though, wouldn't want to break him too quickly, that just wouldn't be sporting of "So anyway, what can you tell about the state of Kragenmoor?" I pause "You do know sothing about our destination, right?"
It takes him a mont to gather himself but he accepts the proposed shift of topic with almost manic eagerness "I know a bit about it I suppose." He says sowhat apologetically "It used to be one of the greatest cities in Morrowind, the center of agricultural trade at that and rather famous for its plays as well."
Idly, I channeled a bit of Magicka, righting a horse that was just about to stumble due to the shitty state of the road, the rattled legionary giving quick thanks and now looking far, far more cautious about where he directed his mount.
"The Argonian uprising and subsequent invasion put a thorough stop to that however." The priest went on "It is a shadow of what it once was, the constant change of hands did not help either."
"Ah" I perk up a bit "I did hear about this one. Started as a Dres domain, turned to Hlaalu and is now under Redoran?"
"Indeed." Vayrin nods "Though the Dres held it for the greatest length of ti."
"Ashin' house politics." The shorter Ashlander, Massanor spat out "Too much ti spent one upping each other and too little actually doing things."
"I'd agree with you if what I guess is your actual point was not even dumber." I scoff, earning an imdiate glare from him "The houses existing isn't a bad thing, downright ritocratic by Tamrielic standards actually, they just need a bit of guidance."
"Bah." He scoffs back "Of course a house elf would say that."
For so reason the terminology he used really made want to wring his neck.
The third tagalong finally rejoined our conversation "My little brother's seething aside." That earns the big Ashlander an imdiate flipped bird "You'd be right if not for every single house leader thinking themselves the right ones to offer this guidance you speak of."
"Point." I nod, surprising all of them "But it is still better than the utter decentralization of your tribes, you reach a certain population level and retaining a simple system just isn't feasible anymore."
Before our talks could continue any we crested a hill and a vast plain greeted our eyes, or more accurately, the city dominating it.
Large walls, nurous towers, and tall buildings, it was smaller than human cities, by a massive margin at that, but quite large by elven standards.
And its smoking ruins (in progress) were currently completely surrounded by a bunch of tree humping Argonian little shits whose hatred and desire to butcher everyone inside I could practically taste from all the way up here.
One rapid scrying revealed Vayrin's information to be quite incorrect, as I counted only just under two thousand lizards, not that it mattered since the garrison had taken quite a bit of attrition and even with the Redoran reinforcents it stood at eight hundred warriors tops joined by about a dozen magi of around high adept and low expert levels.
In short, they would get slaughtered in re hours.
And I just couldn't be having that right now "Legate." I called, my serious tone cutting through the air.
"Sir!" The horseman saluted.
"Prisoners are permitted." I told him as Magicka began to bubble beneath my skin in vast rampaging torrents "But let none escape."
And in a blast of magic and thu'um I was gone.
(General POV, earlier)
Alril Faren, errant dragonslayer, and recently promoted House Father of Great House Redoran was genuinely wondering if the gods had it out for him.
It all started when he returned triumphantly from the Battle of Skuldafn, he and his n garbed and ard in gifts of House Dagoth and towing carts of automatons behind them as they did. The Archmaster welcod him with stoic approval and congratulated him on his dutiful choice to fight the apocalypse, his fellow Counciln unanimously voting for his promotion within re days.
He thought he would finally find so peace now that the most recent crisis was resolved.
He should have known better.
His 'connection' to House Dagoth beca known, and when it ca ti for the Redoran to receive the Lord Godslayer, guess who they sent to escort him? That is right, good old Alril, who had just gotten his wife to forgive him for his 'dumbass s'wit decision to go attacking monsters like so foolish youth' back when he was in Skyrim.
He could still feel the furious slap he got for even thinking of accepting an entire month after
the fact.
But ever dutiful, and only sowhat encouraged by his promotion, Alril accepted his task non the less and marched with his newly enlarged retinue, the admiring looks of his new subordinates driving him mad with each day that passed.
He was almost thankful when they received news of the Argonian raid, at least he could now vent his frustrations on a more than acceptable target!
That was a few days ago, when his n were still fresh and the garrison wasn't running on fus and they were not surrounded with enough Argonians to drown them in their own
blood.
One thing one should understand about facing an army of Argonians is that they are infuriatingly difficult to put down. A human may bleed out if you manage to lacerate their throat and an elf even faster than that.
An Argonian though?
Stab them through the neck and they still have good odds at surviving if they get the most basic of treatnts within a full bloody hour. Their equipnt may be terrible, consisting of mostly leather and bone for the armor and bone, obsidian, and only sotis actual tal for the weapons, but they more than made up for it with their natural toughness and sheer
numbers.
Much like the group currently attempting to gut him co to think of it.
Blinking his tiredness away, Alril jerked back as his honed reflexes scread at him, narrowly evading the wild swing of a massive lizardman, and imdiately retaliating with a precise stab through the Argonian's eye, killing him instantly.
He did not fall back however, and instead pressed forward, cutting off the arm of another lizard currently attempting to disembowel one of his younger subordinates, said elf gathering enough courage to thrust forward with his glaive and guided by more luck than skill, strike the Argonian in the throat.
A spindly Dunr behind his line scoffed irritably as flas gathered in his hand "Bloody fucking n'wahs!" He screeched, throwing the fireball straight into the group of Argonians and burning many of them alive in re seconds.
Not one to miss such an obvious opportunity, Alril called out "Forward! Finish them off!" His fellows wasting only a few staggered seconds to follow after him as they began butchering the disoriented lizards.
This went on for hours and hours, skilled elves barely holding off the much more physically capable lizardn, pushing through their lines even as they pillaged the city with reckless
abandon.
Alril was quite glad he directed the civilians into a cluster of fortified towers that sowhat resembled a keep earlier that day, them and all the supplies they could carry.
"Well at least they may survive long enough for help to co." He found himself muttering "You got another fireball in you, Sadras?"
The spindly elf coughed before forcing a Magicka potion down his own throat "Approaching my blood limit here, Redoran."
Alril couldn't help but chuckle at the scratchy voice of the mage.
Another group of Argonians rounded at their section of the walls, he made certain that they
had to pass him to get to the civilians, and he tensed for another fight only for another mage bearing his house's colors to join them, followed by a dozen automatons mounted with
repeating crossbows.
The whole rank of lizardn fell in seconds.
"Dreloth." Alril sucked in a frustrated breath "I ordered you to conserve the munitions for
protecting the civilians."
"And I will accept any punishnt later." The young mage breathed heavily "But the civilians will be much better served if you survive as long as possible."
"Tsk." The Redoran veteran couldn't really retort as the nearby Sadras mage began to laugh at
him, the mirth soon turning into another round of coughs as he barely held the swill of magic
potions down.
His unit, so fifty or so elves serving as the frontline, managed to rest up for three entire minutes before they heard marching from both their front and their left, soon joined by their
right.
Alril, almost as panicked as his followers, quickly looked to the stairwells he ordered destroyed only to find them just as he wanted them 'So why are they coming even now...'
He got his answer swiftly enough as he saw throngs of lizardn coming from both sides of
the walls, a massive specin sauntering atop it just outside of his force's range and glaring
at him.
The obvious An-Xileel mber grinned with far too sharp teeth as he beheld the exhausted force of the slavers "Greetings elf." He hissed, his massive hands gripping at his warhamr
"How does it feel to be on the hopeless side?"
Alril held back a quip of his own and rely straightened his back, his followers doing much the sa as they began forming up for battle.
But the Argonian's grin just widened in response as tal hooks with ropes attached to them
rose from both sides of the wall, those lizards below the wall already beginning to scale them.
And much to the Redoran's dismay, they did not bother limiting their new assault on just his
area.
The whole length of the wall surrounding the civilian towers had been surrounded, the automaton munitions and that of his few archers disappearing within minutes as hundreds of lizards fell, only for more than half of them to be dragged away for healing.
"Yesss." The An-Xileel agent hissed, his forked tongue slithering across his lipless mouth "Now there is a look I can appreciate."
Alril made a prayer to Boethiah, feeling a surge of certainty within himself, and readied his
blade.
Only for the entire battlefield to go utterly quiet all of a sudden as a wave of what the crass would describe as pants shitting terror covered the whole city of Kragenmoor.
The Argonian's eyes dilated, his limbs and those of his followers behind him shaking uncontrollably as so deep seeded instinct within the Argonians scread at them to flee
and not look back.
Alril's arms were shaking as well, thought not from terror. In fact all of him was shaking as
he finally failed to contain his laughter as he realized he could recognize the imposed feeling
of fear.
The An-Xileel lizard only had a mont to narrow his eyes in confusion before a streak of
black fell from the skies and passed straight through the hundred or so Argonians in front of the Redoran contingent.
Leaving naught but red mist behind
And revealing an armored and robed elf holding the massive lizardman in one hand as he
squeezed the life out of the suddenly skinless creature.
Alril's shoulders sagged in relief, he had managed to hold out.
In the words of the greatest advisor to ever live:
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