The King's Justice
For a city made of stone, Anvil burned well.
The houses and smaller buildings that were not destroyed were either aflame, or destined to end up that way. The whole citied burned with a glamour that could blind even the Gods above, and would make unable to see the destruction and death that was being beset upon Lorkhan's creations.
Naarifin—who was clad in battle armor, embroidered with the jewels of the Summerset Isles, red and purple that shone like the work of a Divines own hand—strode down the hill on his pale war horse, looking over the battle as it commenced. Normally he would have been there, but the delay of the search for the Dragonborn's host made him late for the party.
This city does not stand a chance, Naarifin thought. It had always been confusing to the Elves as to how Lord Althalos Mede was able to hold the city and keep the elves from being victorious. They had studied it for years; Naarifin himself had been the one to create the new curriculum for war training. But Althalos will not stop me this time; he's got two enemies to worry about now.
As he looked down at the scene, Elendia strode alongside with her own steed. A black stallion larger than Naarifin's own horse. It did not bother him, the elves all understood who was truly in command, and it was not difficult to guess.
"The city is weak, it will not last the night." Elendia said.
"No, we outnumber them too vastly." Naarifin responded, "Ten-thousand verses two-hundred it too much for them to handle. Men are too weak to accomplish such things."
"You're correct, as always." Elendia said, "I heard that King Allalian will be joining us."
"Aye, I heard as well." The commander of the elven army replied, "He's running late. If he waits any longer there will be none for him to slay."
"He has no interest in slaying men, such acts are beneath him." Elendia sounded somewhat offended, "His Majesty only wishes to preside over the affair, as we are."
"Some help he'll be, then." Naarifin whispered under his breath.
"I wouldn't tell him that." Elendia said, "His Majesty has not acted the same since his departure. I think he has become homesick."
"A little too quick for a King."
His steed took him to the gate quick enough, and with his blade on one side and his hand holding the reins, no man could stand in his way.
The soldiers around him all cast spells at the walls. Arcane fire, ice, and lightning, all pulled meat from bone in the bloodiest fashion. Naarifin decided to take a more elegant route, wielding a sword of elven make against his enemies, embracing the old way…the way of the Aldmer.
Upon his arrival, the gate was being brought down. No battering ram was used however; instead the elves chose to use a much more elegant approach. Wielding the power of lightning, the wooden doors were opened with crack. A brief flash crossed Naarifin's eyes as his steed reared, and the Commander almost dropped his sword.
When he regained sight, the main streets of the trade city began to flood with gold. Elven soldiers rushed in, followed by the few Khajit warriors that had been lucky enough to join the assault. Bosmer continued to deal with the archer atop the walls, and Naarifin took this opportunity to charge forth.
The elven soldiers did not pass long without opposition, engaging in another storm of swords against a group of Imperial Legionnaires. Fifty or so men remained in the skirmish, and victory was undoubtedly leaning towards the Aldmeri Dominion.
The Code of the Aldmer stated that a Commander should look braver than his soldiers. Naarifin always obeyed the Code of his ancestors, and did not hide behind his natural arcane ability. Swinging his blade quickly, he did not have to look down to know that his hit had landed, and done serious damage.
Around him, battle went just as well. Some men tried to flee, running for their lives, hoping they could live to save their families. But elven soldiers were not so easily fooled, and it was a douse of arcane fire that wiped their remains from this plane of existence.
The warriors who were brave enough to stay in the battle for a moment later threw down their swords in surrender. A smart move. Naarifin would not judge them on that regard; a man could never hope to defeat an elf when outnumbered to this extent. Only Althalos had defied that rule.
"Bind them." Naarifin said, "They yielded."
His men would not question Naarifin's judgment; they had learned to respect him. The elven commander had been quite surprised by that at first. Many of the Altmer had been present at the Battle of Red Ring, and had seen Naarifin fall to Althalos and Titus Mede. His reputation had been damaged, but soon repaired through the actions of his daughter, Elenwen.
With the last of the Legionnaires bound and subdued, most of the elven soldiers sheathed their weapons and relaxed. Some—by Naarifin's orders—went to the other parts of the city to make sure all Legionnaires were dead or captured. Naarifin would not risk the King being in danger during his arrival. He should have been here already anyways.
"You fought well, my friends." Naarifin said, his steed standing still.
"Is wasn't much of a battle." One elf cleaning his dirty mace said. "More like a raid."
"A good spirit." Naarifin laughed, "Hopefully the rest of these Legionnaires are just as bad. I expect we did not even lose a thousand soldiers."
"Probably not even one-hundred." The elf responded.
True, these soldiers were not the best. Even the worst of the soldiers he had fought in the Great War would have lasted longer in battle. These men—despite the fact that they were outnumbered—were not the best soldiers he had seen by any stretch of the imagination.
"Commander!"
It was Elendia, Naarifin could see that much. Her face was stained with blood, a mark of a battle well fought. Her blade was noticeably missing however.
"The King is coming. His company is approaching from the hill."
"Let him see our victory here!" Naarifin smirked, and the elves cheered, along with a few Khajit voices.
"How many men ride with him?" Naarifin asked.
"Fifty or so, each mounted." Elendia said, "He will be here in five minutes."
"Clear the way!" Naarifin said, "The King is coming, everybody move!"
They complied, realizing the importance of granting a King what they pleased. None would dare risk Allalian not being satisfied, the Elven King was known to have a temper that was tremendous to behold. Often however, he kept calm. Naarifin himself had never seen Allalian angry.
Minutes after, waiting anxiously, he could see the King's company riding down through the entrance. Allalian had donned royal plate, the jewels of Alinor's royal on his chest and helmet. Pure diamond emanating starlight, said to be given to the ancient line of Kings by Auriel himself.
"Commander, you did well." He said, the riders in front of him moving out of the way, making the King visible.
"Thank you, my lord." Naarifin responded.
"The slaughter looks well, I had thought there might be more bodies, and the city more…devastated." Allalian said.
"Only two-hundred defended Anvil, my lord. Where the other soldiers are I am not sure." The Commander of the King's armies said.
"It doesn't matter, all that matters is that the coast is ours, we have the advantage. The provinces will receive no naval help from Cyrodiil." King Allalian smirked.
"A great plan, it should work to our advantage." Naarifin confirmed, "The Imperial Empire will bend or be destroyed."
"You're learning well." Allalian said, "I can only hope you have that confidence when you must battle Lord Althalos again."
"The Dragonborn will deal with him."
"Will he?" the King laughed, "I think not. The Dragonborn has fled from us with only half his men, how will he beat Althalos?"
Naarifin kept silent. He secretly hoped the Dragonborn could beat him. It would save Naarifin a lot of trouble.
The King's eyes wandered towards the soldiers who were bound and aligned near the tree near the entrance.
"I see you took prisoners."
"Indeed." Naarifin said.
"Still following the damned code?" Allalian asked, "The Aldmer were not a people of war, their code should not be of importance."
"They were much wiser than us. They understood the world that we reside in and everything about it." Naarifin said.
"I don't want prisoners."
"Excuse me?" Naarifin asked.
"These scum are men. Man does not deserve to live." Allalian said, "It matters not anyways…you know of the true plan. They all will be gone before long."
Naarifin remembered the plan, then.
"Forget about your code, and get rid of them." Allalian said, "And hurry up with it. Miraak is on his way here, and I don't want him prattling on about my deal."
"Forget the code?" Naarifin asked, "I will not kill a man who yields."
"Is that so?" Allalian looked slighted, "It's the codes or your King, pick one."
Naarifin sighed from atop his steed. He was against killing a surrendered foe, even in the Great War. But Allalian had not been present then, but he was now. Naarifin would have to find an executioner, before the King grew upset.
Of the two to pick, it was not a hard choice.
finally updated. I'm sure we all remember when i used to update like...once a day? Good times...
Anyways, Anvil's screwed, hope it didn't make you angry.
Shout out once again to Hjalti Talos, just for being awesome.
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