After the last round, they left the darkness and disparity of Darkroot behind them, landing once more in Tamriel, noticing how bright and vibrant the colors were now, like a novice anime.
"Finally, a break." The Orc groaned, DSP looking about,
"Don't be too sure, you never know what they may hit us with." The scrub mumbled, his nipples cringing with fear at what may hit them. They heard the sounds of hoofs pounding the ground, the two looking towards the horizon at the shape coming up on them.
"What the hell is that?" The orc squinted, noticing the shape looked nothing like a man, much too tall and hunched over his saddle, leaning back to take swig of something before falling off his horse, tumbling to a stop and standing, the scrubs eyes dilating wide:
"The Legends, they were true…" Before them stood a great, slightly pudgy bear, a horned iron helm set atop his curious eyes with a plain iron sword in one hand and a urn of mead in the other, the bear looking down to the bottom and moaning:
"A fucking bear?" Pistoff sighed as the bear dropped his urn and roared towards them,
"But, there is one they fear…" The badass narrator called, DSP raising his shield and praying it would hold, "In their tongue he is Dovahbear: Ursaborn!"
"Oh gods…"
Dovahbear unleashed a beam of force from his maw, blowing DSP off his feet and running forward on his surprisingly powerful stubby legs.
"Come on, show me what you're made of!" The Bear launched forward in the mother of all roundhouse kicks, obliterating Pistoff's poise and bringing his blade down in an arc, Pistoff nearly breaking an arm when he blocked, their blades crossing in a rapid flurry of slashes-
"This… is…" Before he could finish, Dovahbear smashed him over the side of the head with his mighty iron shield, knocking the orc off his feet and stabbing him through the chest with a mighty thrust, slicing him in half for good measure-
"And the Dragonborn is down!" Chester laughed, "About time!" DSP looked up from the dirt, the legendary Dovahbear skulking towards him with a great boast from his droopy jowls:
"Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"
"No!" the scrub cried, anything but that!" The warrior surged forward, DSP drawing his great zweihander and swinging, his blow getting shrugged off before he was hit with a great volley of DMC style slashes and blasted into a tree.
He was just not powerful enough to defy a badass of that caliber, the bear coming to finish him off, when a beehive dropped from a bough, the iron sword dropping as some honey spilled out the side.
Dovahbear lifted the husk, peeling it open and slurping the honey happily, incapacitated from fighting.
"And, there goes Dovahbear, and he was so close too." Chester sulked, "But, the next round, nothing contrived can save your pitiful souls…" He grinned, teleporting him away.
