Cearbhail:
Well... this was a fierfeking long chapter for me. And not long as in... ten pages or whatnot, because it's only six pages long. Short... really short, but writing it... took a long time. A lot of distractions. Like right now, there's a guy playing a guitar on an amp right in front of me... for no reason other than he wants to do that right now.
Anyway...
=^^= Enjoy...
[Vatu]
Why do I feel different? Like… lighter? And my chest plating feels like it needs to be loosened a bit. Oh well, I don't have time to worry about that, I had enemies to kill.
I was falling to the ground, trying to reach my friend Erandur to save his butt, but on the way down I encountered a lich coming my way, trying to block me. I don't know what that purple blast of light was, but I didn't let it stop me as I ran my claws through the lich's face. The lich, for whatever reason, was not prepared for my sudden attack, and seemed heavily confused. I don't care. It let me cut its head off without much trouble
"You look good, girl!" Pra'ja called from up on the ruin fort's crenellation. I knew she was talking to me, and if she was calling me a girl… well… I don't have a comeback prepared.
"Shut up!" I screamed back to her, surprised at the high-pitched voice I suddenly had. Jeez? Was this a side-effect of using my raz'akha? I raised pitch? I was out of it last time, so I couldn't say for certain. Maybe it's just the adrenaline. Oh well, I can't focus on that right now. Erandur is… is that Erandur? Huh… I must be seeing things. I just have to get down there and save him… of Calfire, whoever that is.
I was falling down right on top of my first enemy, which was completely lucky of me. So, I told you I was going to land right where I need to, right? Well, I was right. I'm not sure how I did it, but apparently blindly jumping off a wall, flying across a field filled with liches and battlemages while in a bloodrage with grayed vision with super-Khajiit strength was enough to land on top of the lich holding my friend Erandur by the neck. Or… it's not Erandur? I mean… she smells like him, but… Erandur's a guy so… or maybe? Nah, that can't be right. I know all male Altmer look like girls but… not to the extreme I'm seeing.
I didn't have time to focus on that though, like how I couldn't focus on why it was harder for me to breathe now. Oh, and I have to kill this lich holding my good friend Erandur by the neck.
I'm not going to tell you what I did, (coughs: I landed on his shoulders and plunged my claws through its skull). (Coughs: then I ripped the skull off the lich's bony neck and infused a fire-based explosion spell in it before I went sky bowling for liches).
My spell was beautiful though. I turned myself around, throwing the flame-infused skull up to the rising sunlight sky. The flying liches did not know what to make of their buddy's skeleton face flying up to meet them. The flying, also rolling, lich head screamed, "You don't know what you're doing! Stop this!", all the while flying up to the sky.
"Whoo! Shake those hips, Vatty!" Pra'ja called from the crenellations again.
It was just loud enough to make me look up at her. I noticed she was looking right down at me, grinning madly. I looked down, noticing for the first time that my body was skinnier, my arms sleeker. My chest… well, I can't see it because of how tight the plates are fastened but, I can feel it.
That's when it clicked. Erandur looked like a girl because… fuck. That bright light… it was an activated enchantment. And if I think back on what it felt like… it was a sex changer. One of Hans' second favorite curses to use. And that means… I'm a girl right now.
And if Erandur was a girl… I was a girl. It made sense. And Pra'ja was looking down at me, smiling like mad because she was finally seeing me in a girl's body. I looked up at Pra'ja giving her the dragon's talon. "Pra'ja, I swear on Alkosh…"
I didn't get to finish my quip as my spell activated. The skull hit the middle of the flying formation of liches, and that's when the sky lit up like the Altmer's Old Life Festival. The skull lit up like Dagon when the dragon ripped his head off and breathed white fire down its neck. I heard that was also a beautiful explosion. My spell had some special effects. The initial explosion threw parts of the skull out in every direction. Tiny bits of skull that are also enchanted to explode. Can you say "enchanted fire-bomb shrapnel"?
If you can, you get a gold star. Thousands of little pieces of skull cut through the other liches, weakening them before they exploded on contact with them. The sky lit up with thousands of additional explosions of many different colors. Such beautiful colors. Bright blues, crimson reds, striking oranges. Just… lovely. I'm glad this happened. This was a good moment. Killed two liches, blew up a head, and made the whole world from here to possibly Akavir experience a massive explosion of lich body parts. The many different colors of the explosion magicka was lovely to look at. I don't know why I never noticed colors so vibrantly before. It made me feel… emotional? Um, I never really feel this emotional. Weird.
I saw four or five of those liches take to the explosions poorly. I guess having to fight war mages for the past ten minutes or so was not helping them with their Shielding. So many of them couldn't handle the explosions and were hitting the ground like swat flies. And that was easy for the other war mages to quickly take the attack to them, putting them down just as quickly as I brought them out of the sky. Apparently, the surviving liches weren't happy with me. The ones that survived the explosion (about half of them) all floated down from the sky and landed around me.
That was stupid on their part though. The war mages running around quickly turned off their invisibility, shooting everything they had, charging in with every weapon they had available, taking the liches by surprise. Well, by surprise I mean a very quick reaction. My friends all popped out of nowhere, started to organize their sneak attack, and were all met with an invisible shove by the liches' palms. I watched as everyone was tossed to their backs. No one was spared, not even Erandur.
The liches started to surround me. They looked angry… or what could have passed for angry for a bunch of decaying faces/ skeletons. I could feel the darkness lodge its way into my head. I had perhaps a full six seconds of control before my mind started clouding over. I could see the edges of my vision begin to darken, the ambiance of the battlefield fading away behind a static cloud. I couldn't see friend or foe… I could just see shapes. Moving shapes, shapes that in my way. Shapes that needed to be eliminated. All I could see around me were orange flares in my vision, annoying to see, but welcomed in my teeth and claws. My bloodrage was in full effect now and I was itching to do some real fighting.
I roared out a war cry, feeling my body being pelted by magicka. My Atronach ability to absorb magicka went into full spring, and I used its ability to fuel my healing magicka as I charged for the first orange mist. I felt more and more spells slamming against me, but not even the strongest magicka in this world could throw me off my feet.
I ran up to the first of many orange figures and slashed at them. My numb hands felt resistance, my nose taking in the stench of rotting meat. The figure grabbed my wrist, wrenching me tightly as I felt a strong impact on my face. The lich's fist broke on contact with my face, shattering upon hitting the Shield I subconsciously threw up at the last second. As his fist shattered, I plunged my free hand through his chest. I poured in my lightning, striking the lich with magicka it could not block: my black lightning. All I could see was the orange figure standing in front of me… and then… some kind of explosion. Whatever it was, it was one less thing I needed to fight.
That's when something slammed up against me, trying to pin my arms to the ground. I growled, slamming my face into the neck of whatever it was, taking a deep and satisfying bite. I felt hot blood pour down my lips, tasting something beyond maggots and rot, a core of dark magicka the likes my own lightning could not have created. The hold on me did not loosen, and more and more hands were starting to hold me down. I didn't have to take this lying down!
I shoved my feet straight up at my assailant, having a newfound flexibility I didn't have a minute ago. I curled my legs up near my chin and then with a loud snarl, snapped my feet out, slamming my holder with legs charged with black lightning. The lich was blasted off me, and I was free to charge lightning through my fur, stunning everyone holding me down long enough for me to swing myself around, slashing my claws out at anything around me.
I scratched a lich across his face with my flaming claws. The lich cried out in pain but that was the last one I touched. The other (hundred or more) liches wouldn't just stand there and wait for me to engage them in combat. Apparently, when a hero is outnumbered and winning…it's fake. These liches were easily epic-level necromancers transformed and they started to act like it.
I ran my claws through guy number six… maybe seven, heck I'm losing count, and then giant pillars of fire surrounded my body. Ice started to form around my joints but I was enchanted with so much magical armor prepared by Erandur, Davilia, and myself, that I was actually unfazed by it. Each magickal attack was partially absorbed by my Atronachness, making each attempt to throw me down weaker and easier for me to brush off. And it also fueled my healing spells. Always a win.
I busted through the ice around my ankles and knees, jumped through the pillars of fire, and started flashing, and slashing, and spinning with my flaming-ice-covered claws.
I barely reached any lich. They were flashing as well, moving like blurs that I could barely keep track of. My feral instincts were raging though, and I continued in a raged blur as I sprinted from spot to spot, slashing mindlessly at anything orange in front of me. I felt so many connections, but each time I connected, I was shoved off, shot with magicka, or stabbed with a manifested weapon of some sort. More and more things appeared around me and I did everything I could to fight them off. I felt my claws rip through some clothing and somehow, I forced a lance of fire out at that target. A large beam, no bigger, a large wave of fire, no, still not good enough….a large tsunami of fire roared out of my claw and just rolled over the liches in that area. I was physically pushed back by the surge of fire magma surging from my claws, more magicka than I possibly could have been able to produce on my own. I guess being an Atronach is pretty awesome, being able to absorb so much in such a short time, and then be able to weaponize it like I was.
The only problem with my current stance on over-exaggerated full-on assault magicka was that… it was draining all the reserves I had to run my healing magicka. The bruises and stabs I had obtained throughout this battle were now being neglected, and even so… more and more were appearing around me as orange blurs hit me from all sides, stabbing, slashing, grabbing, blasting with fire, frost, even lightning. The magickas hitting me were poured into my offensive wave of magma. My body being as numb as it was, my vision as blurred as it was, I could not begin to know just how bad the damage was. And my body was acting on its own, driving from pure instinctual onslaught, while what's left of my mind was shoved to the side. If only I could spare a moment to focus on my own body instead of what was ahead of me… instead of what needed to die next.
I started to feel good about wave of magma killing everyone in front of me, but then I felt a rather painful explosion all around me, even strong enough for my Sengar self to comprehend and act to. I wonder just how much of my body had been destroyed to get me there. Right as I turned to face my new threat, the ground underneath me shattered and I found my body flying across the sky. As I flew up into the sky… where I'm basically offenseless, explosions started rocking my body, hitting me one way and then another force of energy blasting me another. After ten or so explosions, my body found the ground. And boy… even I was wearing down. My healing spells were back on full alert, healing whatever damage I took, but my body was shaking to the point to where even my Sengar state could not push me back up to my feet. I was probably on the verge of death. I'm not sure I'm even able to breathe at this point. Was this the end?
I had about half a second until my body was lifted up in the air again. A surge of energy slammed me across the ground. I rolled across the ground so fast that I actually found myself vomiting while I rolled. I came to a stop on my stomach and I tried to get up. I managed to roll onto my back, where I could at least breathe. My depth perception was shot to oblivion and I could barely get onto my feet. My claws could barely even squeeze to make a fist. My left eye refused to open. My lungs were burning. My Sengar state was failing. I guess this was it. I'm out of this fight.
I looked up at the sky and even though I could see thousands of liches circling above me. They were mocking me, telling me they were waiting for me to finish this. I couldn't just give up. I took a deep breath, offering a word to Alkosh, asking him to receive me well. I thought of Nisha, but even in this state, I couldn't bring myself to think of anything other than the destruction of those damn liches. My body screamed at me as I growled out a war-hiss to the liches. They stopped spinning overhead, preparing for whatever I had left in me. I summoned every drop of magicka I had left, pushing off the ground. I…flew?...up to them, flashing with everything I had. I slammed into the lich, slashed out with my claws as hard as I could. And I managed to catch one of the liches by the leg. I won't lie. I ripped his leg right off with my other claw. It was a satisfying event, one final kill before I die.
I let go of the lich, letting myself fall to the ground. I managed to use some magicka to slow my fall at the last second, using a Shield to take the impact for me. I lied there, a lich leg in my hand, and a lich staring me in the eye. He was floating down to confront me for taking his leg; I could tell by his expression that he wanted his leg back. And so…I did my little firecracker spell. I had barely anything left, but this would be worth it. I poured my explosive fire magicka into the leg. I'll let him have the leg back. Take him and me out at the same time. Why not? I'm dead anyway.
The legless lich landed gently beside me, sticking his hand out. "Give it back."
I shrugged and tossed him his leg with what waning strength I had left in me. And that was it… the last of it. I'm done now. As soon as the lich caught it…it exploded. Well, he wanted his leg back. And with his leg, the lich lost his arm and half of his face. Bone fragments rained down on top of me. I couldn't have defended myself even if I wanted to at this point.
That was when I felt more explosions rock my body. The liches overhead were furious at another of their kind being owned by me. I was single-handedly wiping out their whole movement, while the entire Battlemage Corps were losing one day at a time. My Atronach body was slammed with frost and lightning spells that exploded on impact. Wow, elemental warfare…how original. It was also refreshing because I was able to pour some magicka into healing spells. It was just enough to keep me from dying this very second. How generous of them. If they kept hitting me, I might even be able to stand up and continue killing them all.
My bloodrage was wearing off and I knew I had little time left. Sure, I couldn't feel any pain, but I could see the blood dripping out of my fur and my claws were all broken and bloody as well. I was probably going to die soon, bloodrage or not. My armor plating was broken to all sorts of scrap metal, the enchantments were long gone. I was running on my own magicka now, or whatever magicka that was given to me by my lich opponents.
So, I tried to stand up, tried to raise my claw against the liches standing in front of me. They started flying by me like gnats. One came in and pushed me back down. Why were they toying with me? There were tens of them and they could easily wipe me out with a single sneeze. This was getting annoying. I thought fighting to the death would be… harder, or easier depending on how you look at it. I shouldn't be able to get back up numerous times; I shouldn't be able to give these guys so much trouble and then get pushed to the ground and fed magicka. Surely, they've encountered Atronachs before? They know we absorb magicka, and use it either to heal or attack. So… why continue to hit me with magicka if it's just going to let me get back up and continue my assault? Why go through all this effort to keep me alive if all they're going to do is keep throwing me to the ground? Why not do what Nexa would do and cut off my arm? Or cut off my head? Anything that would keep me from getting back up?
Despite being pushed down, I got back up. A lich came in from behind and punched me in the head. My vision went black for a second, but… I had renewed strength to do something about it. What to guess what I did? Well…since I'm a hyped up Khajiit with emotional problems, I did exactly what you'd expect I'd do.
…
..
I blacked out. Yeah, I couldn't tell you that I got up, raked the oblivion out of his stomach, fed him his own intestines, and then ripped them back out to do it again. I didn't rip out his skull and beat him to death with it. I just couldn't tell you that.
Well, I couldn't tell you that until I snapped out of whatever psychosis I was in and found the lich crying with his mouth full of his own intestines, his skull in my hands. Erandur was standing next to me, eyes wide and mouth dropped. He was still a pretty girl. I'll admit that… he makes a pretty girl. I wonder what I look like. Great… now I'm curious. Oh, and I guess my Sengar state is officially over. I felt back in control of my body. Exhausted to all levels of death, but… back in control.
"You just jumped on his back, pulled him down the ground, ripped out his intestines after raking his stomach open, fed his intestines to him, pulled them out of his stomach, and made him eat them again…. And then… you teleported his skull out of his head and smashed his head in. Just…wow." Erandur said with complete shock and awe, shaking her head at what she saw on the ground.
I felt so happy with myself that I did a pose and said, "That's me, Vatu; lich killer extraordinaire. And hopefully temporary girl." Oh man… so sore. Need sleep!
I only had time for that before the entire front of me and Erandur exploded. We both flew back until we crashed against the wall of the fort. Two liches held us there by our necks. And like I said, my Sengar state was gone. There was nothing I could do at this point. I'm dead tired. Emphasis on the 'dead' part.
"We grow tired of your games." My lich said to me with red glowing eyes.
"So do I."
I looked up what smelled like Hans but had the body of a stocky Nord woman looked down at me with her arms crossed. "Vatu, before you pass out; I just want you to know that this was a drill. The liches are on our side."
Wow…I didn't see that coming. As soon as I heard those words, my primal instinct faded away and my body started hurting like heck. I guess my Sengar state was still running, and once Hans said those words, my body realized the lack of real danger. My eyes unglazed over and my body just pounded me. I felt a heavy pinch in my head and my vision blurred away. It was the fastest way to taking a nap I'd ever had. I really hope I'm not dead. I really hope I'm not dead.
Cearbhail:
I feel bad that Vatu will probably never get to see his feminine side. There's always another way though. And I'll probably take the opportunity to allow him to see it.
see you, next chapter.
