Vaeril

The walls of Labyrinthian were high, and very threatening, but the Prince felt a strange sense of calmness about him. The men did not share the same trait however, despite the fact that they greatly outnumbered them, the men still feared the Draugr. Vaeril did not however, today was the last day, and after today they would end the Draugr threat once and for all, and Vaeril would take revenge for the death of his sister.

They took her from me, now I will exact my revenge. Vaeril thought, he had killed many Draugr, but he was still not satisfied, but this battle was enough to end his hunger once and for all.

They were not on horses today, as mounted archers and soldiers would have much trouble climbing the ladders and bringing down the gate. Most of the soldiers had been swordsmen, or archers, but there were also a few healers that had come as well, along with pike men. They were a diverse force for the most part, and battle was calling for them. Vaeril would answer the call with death and blood soon enough.

He was in the head of the host, along with Legate Rikke, Legate Dain, and the Dragonborn. The woman Serana had not come; much to Vaeril's dismay. She did not seem like the type to stay behind while battle was waged, but perhaps the Dragonborn had done something to convince her. Vaeril was not sure, but perhaps it was better if she did not fight. He could tell just by the way she rode that she was not very skilled in the art of warfare, despite her arcane abilities.

I see fear in his eyes, the Prince thought, He fears the rider that I spoke to in the Battle of Whiterun, I would fear him too. It was already assumed that Valor would be the one to destroy the mysterious warrior. Vaeril did not know much about warrior, but from what he had seen, the Dragonborn was the only one who would have a chance against him.

"How do you feel?" Vaeril asked him

"Fine."

"Do you have a plan?" the Prince asked.

"A plan? Well…I will go in there and kill the Dragon Priest."

"Sounds good enough to me," Vaeril said, "What if he hides? How will you find him?"

"I already know where he is."

Vaeril said no more, he assumed that the Dragonborn knew what he was doing. He was a prophesied hero of legend after all, if he did not know what to do, then who would?

"They are just staring at us." Rikke commented.

"If they will not make the first move, then we will." Vaeril said, "Sound the horns."

"Horns!" Legate Dain shouted.

The thousands of men all raised their arms, a personal war horn in their hands. Vaeril could hear them all take a deep breathe, and put the horn to their lips and blow. The sound was loud and echoed throughout the mountains of Skyrim. It sounds like victory, Vaeril thought, when the battle is over, we will sound the horns again.

When the blasts had ended, the men put down their horns and readied themselves for their next command. Vaeril said nothing, and neither did the others, they waited. And from the top of the walls one of the Draugr looked down at the army, his body completely covered in black armor, smoothened with sand and looked new and prettier than Vaeril's own. "Duaan!" he said, and the others repeated, and then it became a chant, the words coming in unison. "Duaan! Duaan!"

"It means 'Devour'," Valor said, "In the Dragon tongue."

Then they stopped, and the two armies were all in silence. Vaeril did not make a command, and his fellow leaders did not as well. Vaeril's eyes wandered along the long walls, inspecting all of the Draugr that he could see. He wondered what Legate Edward was doing on the other side, and if he had gotten the courier's message.

"Daanik!" the leader said, and the others once again chanted the words. This time louder, and more fearsome than ever before. Their voices echoed throughout the air, the words still ringing in Vaeril' ears. Something about the word irked him, made him feel very uneasy.

"Daanik! Daanik! Daanik!" the Draugr continued, doing nothing else. It was as if they were trying to scare them away, or dampen their spirits. Whatever their doing, its' working.

"Doomed." Valor said, "It means doomed."

Then the words came faster, and then faster, and louder as well, until Vaeril couldn't hear his own thoughts. Ten-thousand Draugr were shouting in their guttural language, and the Prince turned around to see that the men felt uneasy as well. Fear was in their eyes, and the Prince understood why, the Draugr were threatening when in large numbers. Even alone they are threatening.

"Yol!" the leader shouted, the rasp in his ancient voice would haunt even the greatest of warriors. And then the Draugr stopped their chanting, reaching for their bows. Simultaneously the all nocked their arrows, drawing back the string; the sound of a thousand bows being readied for fire was all around. "Archers, to your spots!" Vaeril shouted, but it was too late.

Arrows stormed down from the high walls of Labyrinthian down to the snowy floors of the mountains. Men shouted in terror, others screamed when they were hit. The Legion archers rushed for their spots in front of the rest of the host, some made it, but others were brutally shot down.

Finally, after a minute or so, the Imperial archers had lined and were already replying to the Draugr with their own arrow fire. Then, the sky was filled with arrows. Thousands here and thousands there, Vaeril himself had to hold his shield up in order to avoid being pierced by the work of the ancient Nordic forge masters. Dozens fell, then perhaps hundreds. It had become a blood bath down below, and anyone who did not have a bow was caught in the middle.

"Get the ladders up!" he heard Legate Rikke shout, and the men obeyed her command. From the back of the host came dozens of men carrying large wooden ladders, tall enough to bring them to the top of the walls of Labyrinthian. The men rushed forward, still carrying the ladders forward, some being struck down by arrows, but most still lived to tell the tale.

When the men were close enough, they all lifted the ladders slowly. Five or so ladders were pushed up the top of the walls. Still more men were coming from behind, carrying even more. When first wave of ladders hit the walls, the men began to climb. It would take a lot of strength to push those ladders down, Vaeril thought, they will be safe for now.

They climbed, and they climbed. Vaeril saw some of the Draugr attempt to push them down, but the weight of the ladder and the men on it was too great for one to push, even an undead Draugr. Arrows were still being traded amongst the two forces, forcing the Draugr to pay less attention to the men coming to the walls and more on the archers.

Then, the first few soldiers had gone up, swords swinging. There were only a few, so the Draugr did not have to worry too much at first. But then Vaeril saw as groups of two and three Draugr were heading towards the ladders, pushing them down. "Look out!" one of the soldiers shouted, as the wooden construct came down, crushing the few unfortunate soldiers beneath it.

More ladders were pushed down, but more went up as well. Soon enough the Draugr had to multitask, being forced to fire at the archers and respond to the ladders as well. Then, the final card was drawn, when the Prince let out the last command that would be needed, "Bring the battering ram!"

From what the few soldiers that were from Skyrim told him, Labyrinthian was not built with a gate, it was actually meant to be a city. But as the Draugr encamped themselves there, they began to make modifications, the biggest being the construction of a gate. This one was made of wood, as it would take less time to make then one of steel or stone.
Then the ten or so men that held the battering ram marched forward, arrows flew past them, and one almost hit the Prince himself as he watched. The soldiers took their time, not rushing at all. Vaeril would be patient, they would get there unharmed, he knew they would.

Swords clashed and blood spilt from the top of the high walls of Labyrinthian to the ground below. Men fought above, and archers loosed their arrows below. The amount of Draugr archers had changed once more Imperial soldiers had gotten to the walls. Vaeril would say at least twenty were at their destination, rendering the Draugr's archers unable to focus on the archers, as they were too concerned with the men in the fortress. Because of this, the battering ram was arriving at the gate almost without challenge, and Vaeril shuddered at the thought of what might be inside.

"Once that gate is down," Valor said while right next to the Prince, "The true battle will begin."

More ladders were pushed down, and more men fell to their deaths. But more went to take their place, scaling up the fortress and onto the walls. If they were lucky their ladders was not pushed over, or they were not hit by arrows. The battle was full of chaos so far, but the Prince kept his eyes on the battering ram, "Forward!" he shouted. It would benefit them that they get closer, in order to rush in as soon as possible.

Then, after ten minutes or so, the whole host was eagerly waiting for the gate to be rammed down. Vaeril watched closely, keeping an eye on the state of the gate, predicting when the time would come and it eventually would give out. The first ram came quickly, "Heave!" they shouted, and the men let out a slight shout as the ram made contact with the wooden gate. "Heave!" they said again, and then again, again, and then again. It took many tries, as a gate of this size would not go down quickly; the doors were large and were shut tight, it would take many tries to bring them down.

It seems that the ladders worked after all. Vaeril thought to himself in the last moments before the gate would surely be broken down.

Then, it was done. One last heave and the ram connected with the wood one last time, and a loud crack came about as the gate sprung open. Vaeril was not surprised by what was inside; Draugr. Thousands and thousands and thousands more, Vaeril had no doubt that this was the true ten-thousand Draugr that were said to be encamped inside. They stared the men down, not bothering to move, standing very still and looking threatening as ever.

"Forward!" Vaeril shouted,, and Valor repeated him, "Forward!" the Dragonborn shouted, and part of the host rushed inside the open gates, Legate Rikke and Dain among them. As Vaeril went inside, he could see arrows flying past the walls on the other side as well. Legate Edward as starting his assault as well. The Draugr will not escape us, this is the end. Vaeril thought. He hoped this would be the last battle, as he had gone through enough in the past weeks.

The two forces met in a clash of wills, the men fought with strength and tenacity, while the Draugr fought with death and destruction. A few knew the arcane arts, and wielded the power of fire, frost, and lightning against the Legion. Vaeril himself had been amongst the scrimmage, striking any foe who dare stepped before him. Yet he kept a careful eye around him, so he was not killed by behind or in a blind spot.

Soon enough Legate Rikke and some of the men had branched to the eastern side of the fortress, as she led them into battle. Legate Dain had also branched outward and was engaging the eastern side of the city, and Prince Vaeril and the Dragonborn were stuck in the middle.

The city was magnificent, and Vaeril could have truly appreciated it had they not been in a huge battle of this scale. It was clearly made thousands of years ago, but the craftsmanship was remarkable, Vaeril had no idea that the ancient Nords were as skilled in building. But he was snapped out of his thought soon enough when he was knocked down by someone.

He turned and saw the leader of the Draugr at the walls. Valor could not see his eyes, as they were covered in the armor, and Vaeril wondered how the Draugr could see him, but he stopped soon enough when the undead warrior brought down his blade at Vaeril's direction. He rolled to the left, almost being stepped on by his own soldier. Then, he rose quickly; and wasting no time he brought his sword with him, slashing upward, landing at the Draugr's bony chin. He did some damage, but not enough to slay the beast. The Draugr retaliated with his own blow, stronger and more deadly than the one before. Vaeril raised his shield and caught the blow, the strength out a dent where the Imperial Legion symbol had been.

Then the Prince sent two strikes at his enemy, one at each side. The Draugr had been knocked back and stumbled awkwardly. Vaeril took this as an opportunity and bore down his sword at his enemy, pressing it deeper and deeper inside. The Draugr did not say anything; he just sat on the ground, not moving, until Vaeril assumed he was dead.

Good thing he's gone, he was a scary one. Vaeril thought, but then the Dragonborn ran up to him soon after, sparing no time as he talked quickly.

"My lord, I need to seek out the Dragon Priest."

"If you know where he is then go, I will not keep you from doing your duty." Vaeril tried to shout over the noise.

The Dragonborn had no reply, he only gave the Prince one last nod before he rushed through the battle, and was headed to a small building in the center of the fortress. It was not large by any means, and looked run down, Vaeril could not see any chance of the Dragon Priest being in there, but he would trust Valor's judgment.

He turned his attention to the battle, paying attention to the important part. He could not pick out one clear winner, as the fight looked pretty even from where he was standing. Although Vaeril was shocked at how the Draugr were fighting, they fought with a new strength that the Prince did not see before. As if they were truly fighting for something, or someone. Perhaps Vaeril would never understand why, but he did not want to either.

He rejoined the foray, providing assistance to any soldier he noticed that needed it. Yet he felt tired, very tired; he had not slept in many days, and the very little energy that he had was drained form him. His strokes and slashes grew slower and less powerful, until he was panting and breathing very heavily. He began to have trouble breathing, and when he felt he spear launched into his back, he fell.

He didn't know what happened, or who threw the spear, all he knew was that it hurt, very much. He tried to rise, but the pain was too severe. He fell again, hitting his head this time, then, everything went blurry. He couldn't see as well, but he could hear and feel everything, like the blood spilling from his body. Then he saw a shadow over him, and he knew it was one of the Draugr. He didn't see them, but he heard the men shout, "The Prince! Help the Prince!" but it was too late, and when the second spear was bore on him, he felt like he was slipping away.

I did her justice, Vaeril thought, I avenged you, Elizabeth. Then, Vaeril thought of his father, and what he would say when his only heir was killed for people he didn't even know. No, not his heir, his son. Vaeril was the Dragon's son, child of the Emperor, he was supposed to inherit the Mede name after his father died, but that fate was gone now. He had chosen a different route, but he regretted none of it. Vaeril liked to think he saved many lives with his arrival to Skyrim, and in his last moments he thought of the Dragonborn. He will win…I know he will. And then the darkness of the void finally claimed him.

…This chapter was fun, but it was also sad at the same time. It probably doesn't help that I was playing the Game of Thrones soundtrack while writing this, and I for one think that the song "Heir to Winterfell." Is very depressing.

I hoped you guys liked it, and I hope that you also don't get mad at me for killing someone else, but it had to be done. Vaeril's fate was decided before I even began writing, R.I.P. Vaeril, the true savior of Skyrim.

ASOIAF quote of the day: "Why is it always the innocents who suffer most, when you high lords play your game of thrones?" –Varys.