So, as it turns out, fighting a dragon is hard. And as it turns out, I am very weak. See the problem?
It all started well enough. I seemed to have dropped an auto save just before the battle. And I'm not sure if that is a blessing, or a curse. Irelith went to talk to the guard in the tower. And Mirmulnir flew over the mountain.
The garrison unleashed a hail of arrows, while Irileth and I spammed lightning bolts. Turns out, I have a LOT of Magicka. Which I'm going to accept as a consolation to the fact I am so pathetically weak. Physically.
Then things usually go to shit. See, Irileth, the war hardened veteran she is, is able to tell when to dodge and duck. I, however, am still learning. Thus, more than once, I've died. Several times in fact.
I sound a bit mirthful, but I'm pretty sure it's the insanity talking. Wonderful coping method that.
Yet despite all the lightning and arrows, Mirmulnir just won't land. He would rather carpet bomb us. Several times, I've died that way. I'm leaving a bad Yelp review for that. Would not recommend.
Honestly though, I'm thankful for the insanity. Because otherwise, I would be forced to deal with the fact that I keep dying. Traumatically. In the same way that I died the first time. As my skin boils and my eyes explode and my blood evaporates and my insides become my outsides and- wait. Where was I?
Oh yes. The insanity was helping. But despite that, sometimes, it isn't enough.
On one cycle, we had manager to pull defeat from the jaws of victory. We won once. We killed Mirmulnir. Aerana ran her sword right through his skull. The problem? Aerana was only able to do that because it had clamped down on her casting arm. The damn thing had ripped it right off in it's death throws. She bled like a fountain. We couldn't heal her in time. It ate it. It was lost down the monsters gullet. No reattaching that.
Oh sure, she absorbed it's soul, but it didn't mean anything at that point. Her eyes haunted me. I saw the hope die in her eyes. She looked at me with such hatred and betrayal. Her lips moved, though no sound came out. 'You lied' she said. And I had hadn't I. I told her it would be fine. That we would make it.
It's burned into my memory, that event. Irileth patted me on the shoulders, told me she was in a better place, but otherwise was jovial. They didn't understand. To them, they had won. But in reality, they had lost.
In my head, I could practically see the prompt: With this character's death, the thread of prophecy is severed. Restore a saved game to restore the weave of fate, or persist in the doomed world you have created.
I had asked for a dagger from a guard. He gave it up happily. No doubt on his way to celebrate with good food and good booze.
I walked a bit into the brush before finding a nice boulder to sit on. This land was so lush. So beautiful. Despite the pain of it all, I was happy to be here. My only regret was that I missed my wife. I took one last look at the endless blue of Nirn's sky. Then I 'reset'.
The next several attempts weren't much better. But at least it was only me who died.
Things continued like that for a few cycles. Each time I got a little better. Through trial and error of the worst sort, I was learning. Finally this time, we were doing it. I had finally learned that I could tell the dragon's relative position from my cover. I would pop out to reposition, and spam Lightning bolts. But the real game-changer was my epiphany from earlier.
I had concluded that the vanilla Skyrim spells were limited. After learning sparks, which projected multiple lightning beams to a single target, I had wondered, why couldn't I do that with a lightning bolt? Using the Apprentice spell was a lot like flicking your finger. You use the same amount of energy, but you store it, then release it all at once. But why was I limited to only one flick at once, when I knew that I could project multiple beams at the same time. So, I created what I believe to be an original spell. A cluster of lightning bolts hit the same target. Originating from the same source. This spell effectively allowed me to dual cast, or even triple or quadruple cast, from one hand.
I was reasonably sure why this spell hadn't been invented, however. For every added stream, the cost increased exponentially. For two, it cost twice as much as one lightning bolt. Just like a dual cast. But for three, it cost eight times as much. And for four, it was sixteen times the cost.
For any other Destruction mage, they wouldn't have the Magicka reserves to cast this spell. By the time they did, they would have access to more powerful, cost-efficient spells. But for me, who had the equivalent of Naruto's chakra worth of Magicka, it worked. I decided to label this spell Thunder Storm.
The battle raged on for some time. We lost a man or two. But eventually, something had to give. I could only hope it was the dragon and not me.
We got a lucky shot eventually. An arrow, rather than just getting caught in the scales, or just punching right through the wing, grazed the membrane of the wing enough for it to tear. The beast screamed in agony, it's split appendage flailing as it spiraled.
It crashed to the ground with a thunderous thud. We closed ranks around it as it recovered. It made me wonder, could dragon's get concussed? Aerana switched from magic to pull out the Overlord's frost enchanted sword. She struck at it's abdominal area, near it's damaged wing. She plunged her sword in viscously, and the enchantment spread frost across the torso.
It must have been freezing the insides as well, because the dragon flailed and shouted fire. He eventually hit Aerana with his damaged wing. But the blade remained where it was.
He tried to take flight to flee, but his ravaged wing only flopped violently. Throwing blood around like a B movie slasher. It was just like Gobber said. A downed dragon, is a dead dragon. And I took that information to heart.
And then, finally, Mirmulnir gasped his last breath.
" Dovakiin? Noo! " he rasped. And then he began to burn. It started in flakes. Mere embers. Then it was an inferno. And I'm gonna be honest. I very well may have a case of PTSD when it in involves fire. I flinched a bit. But it was Aerana who took the stage of the spectacle.
She was in the center of the vortex. A force of nature itself. Then, she shouted.
" Yol!" A stream of fire left her in a cone. It burned the tundra snow to ash, and startled the guards. As for me, well.
"What are you doing down their. The dragon is dead. Stop crying." Irileth admonished to my rocking, whimpering state. In my defense, Aerana was supposed to learn Fus . Not Yol . You try not to revert to a quivering mess when someone screams a forest fire at you.
But eventually, I had to get off the ground. The Whiterun guards had surrounded Aerana. And she was smiling. As we walked back, they shared war stories. It seemed being the Chosen One made you popular. In fact, she seemed happy. A nice shift from the funk I had put her in. I would have to make it up to her. But how? She wanted answers, so an exposition dump maybe?
I was just happy the nords had stopped their casual racism. It was a bit grading. I was no fan of the Thalmor, but even I could tell the difference between an organization and an individual.
As we made our way up to Dragonsreach, the good mood persisted. We stood at attention as Irileth gave a full rundown of the events that transpired. And I realized, from their perspective, I was a lot more competent than I felt. To them, I was a experienced battle mage, who had taken to attacking Mirmulnir with magic without the slightest hesitation.
I didn't feel like I deserved the praise. After that, Balgruuf asked Aerana her account of the events. I couldn't help but notice that he didn't ask me for my take on things. I was starting to feel like he didn't like me. Like I slighted him somehow. Weird.
Anyway, Aerana explained her status as the Dragonborn. I genuinely thought Balgruuf's eyes would pop out of his head. Just wait until we told him about needing Dragonsreach to trap a dragon. Oh, you sweet summer child. Wait, was he talking to me? Maybe. Kinda zoned out.
"-as a reward, I name you thanes of Whiterun. And assign you Lydia as your personal housecarol, Dragonborn". Said Balgruuf. He put a lot of emphasis on the fact he was assigning Lydia only to Aerana. Again, what did I do to this guy?
Then the world shook. And I mean the world. " DOVAHKIIN!!!!!!! "
I could feel that in my bones. Food fell off the tables, decor fell from the wall. Proventus fell down the stairs. Admittedly, that last one was pretty funny. And I fell on my ass. On purpose. I was tired. I don't need an excuse. Aerana however, was totally grounded. As the world moved, she was immoveable.
If I was capable of Dovahzul, I'm sure that seeing this event would give me insight into ' Ro.' Balance was the only word I could use to describe it. I also though, maybe for just a second, I could see Aerana's eyes turns a brighter gold. But it was probably just a flicker from one of the torches. The jarl awarded Aerana the axe of Whiterun. She took it happily. I had already gotten my reward, so he didn't waste time with that.
While I had zoned out, Balgruuf had taken it upon himself to explain the graybeards summoning. Why were they named that anyway? Was it because by the time you mastered the Thu'um, you were old? That must be it. Then what about ulfirc? He knew Unrelenting Force, and it only took him a few years.
All pondering had to stop however, because as we got close to the door Aerana was approached by her new housecarol.
"Honored to serve you my thane." She said curtly. She seemed the no nonsense type. Oh, this would be fun.