Hey everybody! I was just thought of this story due to the odd coincidence of me having a mage character, and two of my friends having a berserker and an assassin respectively (though the characters in this story aren't quite theirs).
For those who don't know:
Archmage- Leader of the Mage's College of Winterhold
Harbinger- Leader of the Companions (basically, the Fighters Guild)
Listener- Leader of the Dark Brotherhood (assassin's guild)
Evaluator- Sectional leader of the Thalmor (I'm not positive about this one, don't hold me to it)
Mer- proper name for elves as a whole (Altmer, Dunmer, Bosmer, Orsimer)
On to the show, and don't forget to Review!
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Arkoless stood atop the jutting rock, facing the oncoming army. Even through the thick furs and hides of the Archmage's coat he could feel the bite of the harsh wind as it attempted to sink it's teeth into him. Turning north, he could see Windhelm, the capital city of Skyrim ever since Ulfrick had been voted High King, and also the target of the encroaching Thalmor.
Hopping down the rocks, Arkoless landed in front of his two comrades, Balgrush gro-Malak and Iris Nightblossom.
Balgrush was, like any orc, unreasonably large and, though few would tell him this, incredibly ugly as well. He stood there in enough armour to make the mage tired just imagining the weight with a war hammer on his back that was almost the same height as it's wielder. Honestly, how the Harbinger could carry that much Daedric equipment, much less wear it, was simply astounding!
Iris was the exact opposite. At first glance, their didn't seem to be anyone at all under the small overhang, but a closer inspection (and even then, only to those with excellent vision) would reveal the small Bosmer sitting cross-legged in the shadows in the standard full-body red and black attire of the Dark Brotherhood. As he watched, the Listener was checking the fletching on her arrows, make sure each was as straight as the day they were made.
Breaking from his reminiscing, Arkoless cleared his throat to get their attention. "There's about ninety soldiers, and nine mages out their. The Evaluator is behind them. If we can take him out, the rest will fall to pieces."
Here Iris spoke up from the recesses of the shadows, "But that is the problem, isn't it?" Her voice had a quality that many described as being at home on a mortician- that everyone she spoke to might as well be dead, for all it mattered to her. "These mer were chosen for the Evaluator's battalion because they were the best. If just anyone could get to him, these soldiers wouldn't be nicknamed "Men's Bane."
This last sentence caused a harsh, grating laugh from Balgrush. "If you haven't noticed, none of us here are Men! The mage is am Altmer, you're a Bosmer, and even I am medically considered an species of elf!"
"To be fair though," The Archmage started, "You are the ugliest elf I believe I have ever seen." After finishing this statement, the Altmer hurriedly ducked a playful (for an orc) swing that may have given him a concussion.
"Both of you, stop playing around. If you haven't noticed, we have a lot of very angry Mer coming to kill us," Irish chastised, causing the to Altmer and the Orc to grin sheepishly and laugh, respectively.
Arkoless stepped forward into the so that he was between the two of them and sat down. Brushing a few stray bits and bobs off the map that had been laid down, he pointed to a place farther south. "The majority of you Companions and my mages have joined up with the Stormcloaks and are engaged with the bulk of their forces here, while the Brotherhood has moved into Riften to eliminate the forces that are occupying the city. Even if both of those battles go well for us, it wont matter if the Thalmor manage to get inside Windhelm and kill Ulfrick. There's only the three of us here now, and I hate to say it, but those Mer have to be stopped no matter the cost. As undermanned as the capital is right now with most of it's soldiers on the battlefield and reinforcements from the west still half a day behind, if we don't do something, the Thalmor will march right into Windhelm and own the city in three hours. With the High King dead, Skyrim will fall into squabbling while the Aldmeri Dominion marches. The war will be lost in a month." Looking up at the two of them, he let the other two Guild leaders appreciate importance of their next decision for a moment before continuing.
"Of course, with only three of us, the likelihood of us surviving any attack on a hundred experienced, well trained soldiers is practically nothing. I would like to point out that all three of us are Mer. If we walk away now, the Dominion will decide it's more trouble than it's worth to try and kill us." All was quiet for a moment, as everyone thought, long and hard, at the meaning those words held, until Balgrush spit onto the ground.
"I don't know about you two, but Skyrim is my home. I'm not going to let some pansy Thalmor march into my home and tell me it's theirs." He punctuated the statement by slinging the massive hammer off his shoulder and onto the ground, letting out a dull thud that both the others felt in the soles of their feet.
Iris nodded. "The Brotherhood is my family, and these… interlopers want to destroy that. I will not have it. I will send them all to my Dread Father, and make the world a better place for it." Her speech completed they both turned to the Altmer of the group. Of all of them, he was the one with the best chance of integrating into Thalmor society.
Giving a large small that seemed slightly demented thanks to the hereditary angular features. "I was hoping you would say that."
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Evaluator Farunal was tall, even by Altmer standards, and this was only compounded by the Cyrodilic horse he road (how these barbarous Nords could ride those barrel-shaped mountain goats they called horses he would never know.)
The space to his left felt oddly empty, as it always had since Verinan was killed by the Listener when the Brotherhoods sanctuary was breached. It was a mistake to underestimate them, but how was he to know there were so many in there? He could only send a small contingent due to the fact that the only city the Thalmor held in this thrice-blighted was that den of drugs and thieves called Riften, not to mention his informants in the Penitus Occulus said that they had killed most of the Brotherhood! He would have to have a word with them later. Or his interrogator would.
As it was, he had to make do without his trusted friend. Standing beside his horse was some opportunistic lieutenant that had taken the position of commander after Verinan's demise, something that irked Farunal beyond belief. "We should be able to make it to Windhelm by noon, then we can- what is that?"
Turning to see what had caused Farunal to pause, the commander spotted something bright near the front of the battalion. "It looks sort of like fire, Evaluator, but why?"
Pulling out a spyglass from one of his pouches, Farunal got the answer.
Standing their in front was an Altmer wearing some ghastly fur robes that the Evaluator knew had some significance. What was it? Something to do with magic?
As he watched the lone figure weaved his hands together, creating a large fireball before launching it at a group of soldiers with much more force than was common.
Ah, that's right. Those robes are a symbol of office for the Archmage.
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Arkoless let loose the fireballs before ducking an axe blade sent his way by some soldier. Bringing his right hand up, he formed and drove and ice spike into the unfortunate's head, killing him instantly.
Evaluating the situation, he developed a plan of action. First, get some breathing room.
Bringing his hands together, he sprayed fire forward, causing the snow to melt and the grass to catch ablaze, adding it's heat to the fuel-less magical fire. Keeping the spray going, the Archmage spun on his feet, creating a burning circle around him to keep attackers at bay while he continued his plan.
Secondly, call reinforcements.
Holding each hand outwards from his sides, dark purple energy coalesced into his palms. Throwing the spheres toward the ground just as the magical fire died, two giant golems made of ice and snow unfurled themselves from the cloud of released summoning energies to begin to do battle with the Thalmor.
Thirdly, make a beeline for the Evaluator.
Forming an ice spike into each hand and throwing them into the heads of a couple of Aldmeri soldiers, Arkoless charged forward, flanked by his two icy bodyguards. Ducking under a mace swing and watching as the offending soldier was lifted from the ground after being impaled on the Atronach's arm, the Archmage made a quick gesture causing a rune to appear in front of him, under the feet of a group of soldiers.
They had a moment to glance down before the glyph exploded into shards of icy shrapnel, dismembering and impaling those who stood to close. Jumping over the gore, Arkoless launched two quick fireballs into the ranks in front of him, blowing a hole wide enough for him to get through.
His rather remarkable progress was halted when four Thalmor mages darted out from wherever they had been hiding, launching lightning and fire towards the hostile Altmer.
Catching the attacks on a magical ward prevented his death, and allowed him a moment to gather the energy needed to launch a magical spray of fire at the offending wizards, making them leap away from the now burning ground. Except, of course, the one too slow to do so. He survived a few seconds in the blaze.
The second barrage of spells caught Arkoless of guard, a probably would have died had one of his atronaches not taken the blast for him, temporarily sending it back to Oblivion.
Having no time to mourn his loyal servant, Arkoless formed a ball of energy into his hand, similar to the summoning one, and cast it towards the still smoldering grass. This caused a look of horror to pass over the Thalmor's faces, as they realized what he had done.
Still burning, the now reanimated Thalmor wizard took up arms beside his new master and the remaining atronach, as they fought tooth and nail against the soldiers and wizards.
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Farunal watched as the Archmage did admittedly well against his troops. If he was taken alive, maybe he could be reconditioned…
This line of thought was brought to a halt as another disturbance was brought to his attention. On the west flank the clanging of metal and screaming of soldiers, not to mention bestial roars, brought to mind things more horrible to imagine. As he looked through his spyglass, the Evaluator realized it was even worse than that.
It was Balgrush gro-Malak.
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The Harbinger of the Companions was, to put in mildly, having the time of his life. Using his left hand to catch the hilt of a mace being swung at him, he yanked it out of the soldiers hands before flipping it over and bashing the Mer's brains out with it. Ducking under an axe swing, he brought the stolen mace up into the soldier's jaw before spinning and launching it into the face of someone else.
Swinging his war hammer around with only his right hand he crashed it into the ribs of a randomly select soldier before driving the weapon's rear-facing spike into someone else on the backswing.
Yanking out the weapon, he felt something on his back. Turning, he realized that someone had driven a dagger into his back, but the incredibly thick Daedric armour had rendered the weapon ineffective. Headbutting the back-stabbing soldier so hard he put a dent into the Altmer's helmet, he gripped his hammer near it's head and drove the handle back, under his arm and into the gut of another warrior.
Reaching out to take hold of the arm of one of the gold-clad swordsmen, he lifted him in the air before smashing him into the line of his compatriots as they attempted to swarm him.
Swinging the hammer onto his back, he reached onto his belt and unhooked to two war axes that hung there. Bringing one up bash into a soldiers lower jaw, he then spun around to slash at another's stomach, cutting a fatal line. Bringing both axes up to block an over-head swing from a two handed sword, he drove a kick into his opponents gut, doubling him over, before driving one of the axes down into his spine.
Letting out a great roar, he sprinted forward, simply plowing over all those who stood in his way and trampling them under his armored boots, breaking bones and crushing organs, only stopping when a spike made of ice glanced off his helmet.
Turning to look at the source, he noticed three of the Thalmor mages. Grinning from ear-to-ear, Balgrush charged.
Simply ignoring the pain caused by the spells colliding with him, he reached the first one and did the most orc-like thing possible: He brought his head up in a jerking motion, driving one of his tusk-like teeth into the soft spot of his lower jaw. Ha! And people mocked him for removing the bottom part of his helmet!
Looking at the other two wizards, Balgrush howled once more and settled into the bloodlust.
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Now an Orsimer? Odd. Couldn't be a coincidence, so they had to be working together. But last he checked, there were three Guild heads after his head.
When Farunal heard a wet gurgling sound, he realized he was right.
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Iris preferred a slightly more subtle approach. While her two more direct companions had been tearing through the ranks of the Thalmor, she had worked her way around the back before beginning.
Her first target was, of course, the Evaluator. But with Murphy's Law ( "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong") working against her, that commander had leaned to tell his superior something just as she loosed the shot. Now she was compromised.
The Evaluator-and the nearest soldiers- turned to see Iris as she stood up from where she was and sacrificed stealth for speed. She began running sideways, neither toward nor away from them, firing arrows as she went.
Now this would be stupid for most archers, as with both them and their targets running, they wouldn't be able to hit a thing. But Bosmer was known as the best archers in the world. And Iris was considered the best of the Bosmer.
Launching one-and only one- arrow at each soldier that came for her dwindled their numbers rapidly as the projectiles seemed to suddenly sprout from the slits in their helmets. One soldier even resorted to coving his eyes with his arm, but that only resulted in him taking an arrow in the neck.
She only started having troubles when the mages joined in. There was only two of them- her allies had taken the others, she noted- but that was enough to mess up her rhythm.
Suddenly she dropped to her knees and laid backwards, sliding under a bolt of lightning and a blast of fire, before she came back up onto her feet without stopping. Drawing and releasing an arrow, she placed it into the forehead of one of the mages, but alas, could not repeat the performance with the second, due to an empty quiver.
Noticing this, she placed the bow on her back before withdrawing to daggers from her belt. Ducking a sword swiped, she severed his neck before going into a graceful summersault, causing a lunging Mer to stab one of his comrades instead. Coming out of her roll, one of the blades slashed out, hamstringing a warrior before she was full upright.
Kicking into the jaw of one of her adversaries (taller than her, she noted smugly,) she then brought both knives down into his collarbone. Running to the next in line and performing a spinning elbow into his stomach caused him to double over allowing her to roll across his back, using one of her daggers to stab his spine in the process.
Now she was face to face with the mage, and she smiled.
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Farunal paled as he realized his situation. All of his mages were dead and atleast half of his soldiers (mainly due to the Archmage and his atronaches.) He still had hopes, right up until the point where he noticed he didn't see Iris anymore.
He realized this just in time to feel a dagger enter the back of his thigh, almost causing him to fall, but was saved by a strong hand. Turning to thank his savior, he paled further as he came face to face with Balgrush gro-Malak. Delivering a mighty blow to his chest, the orc launched him away. Looking up from his spot, he saw the crouched Listener-with only one knife, due to the other being lodged in his leg- and the Harbinger grinning madly.
Rolling his eyes back, he saw the Archmage standing over him, the two now un-dead Thalmor wizards behind him. "We have evaluated you, Farunal," Arkoless stated, and the Evaluator grimaced. Well, if he was going to die, atleast his killer had a good since of humour. "And we have found you wanting."
The last thing he ever saw was a spear of ice.
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Grabbing the dagger from his victim's leg, he tossed it to Iris as they formed a circle to meet the remaining Thalmor.
Arkoless could barely get a candle's worth of flames to heed his summons, while Balgrush and Iris were swaying on the spot from fatigue. Glancing about, they nodded. They were ready to die.
Arkoless grinned to his friends, "Auri-El is ready to meet me in the afterlife, as I'm sure Malacath and Sithis await you two. Let's give them a good last show, eh?" At both of their acceptances- a huge grin in Balgrush's case and a small smile in Iris', they turned toward the see of opponents.
And charged.
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I hope you all enjoyed. Originally, I was going to have them be rescued, but I thought this much more poetic, although I might make an alternate ending of my original plan.
I also might make a multichap, detailing how they met and all, but if you know my history with multichaps, you wont hold your breath.
Tell me what you think! Suggestions, ideas, criticisms, praise, random thoughts, what your dog's name is, I really don't care, just put what you want.