The Short Fight (II)

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It had been months since Dulurza had fought her father.

They'd last sparred the day before she'd been sent to Solitude, to kill its Jarl. Larak had spared no effort (so he claimed, and so she'd believed), and while it hadn't been trivial, he had beaten her. It had been disheartening (and confusing) to have her own weakness thrown in her face like that, right before her big important mission. But Larak had claimed that it was to teach her an important lesson: To never rest on her laurels. That even if she was perhaps the strongest in the clan beside him, strong enough to be trusted with this duty, there would always be someone stronger than her.

Dulurza still didn't doubt that there was someone stronger. But she'd truly believed that she'd outstripped him.

Evidently not so, as the head of her axe clanged against his ebony shield. She pivoted to swing around the butt of the weapon but it was blocked by his mace. She tried to bash the haft forwards, but he kicked her in the chest before she could, knocking her metres backwards, and then—

CRAP—

Dulurza dive-rolled. She actually dive-rolled (her!) because Larak wound up a massive overhead swing with his mace that looked about ready to cleave her in half. And it was a blunt weapon. As it was, the strike smashed into the stones of the path, launching up an explosion of snow and rock-dust.

Dulurza came up pre-emptively swinging her axe, but Larak had already recovered from his swing and turned it into another strike at her midsection that she was barely able to get her axe up to intercept.

If she hadn't used a literal Dragon's bone as the haft, it probably would have snapped. As it was, her arms almost snapped instead—the axe was slammed into her chest, then Larak heaved and she was flung backwards off her feet, crashing into the wall of the mountain.

He blurred towards her a moment later, trapping her against the stone with a knee in her chest.

"Pathetic." He growled. "This is all you have come to? I expected more."

Dulurza just gritted her teeth and pushed. She'd been able to pull up one leg and brace it against the wall before he slammed into her, and now used that to help shove her axe flat against his chest, trying to get him off her.

Larak was the only person Dulurza knew (besides the Dragonborn) who was still taller than her, but he only had a few inches to leverage. More muscular, perhaps, but not by much. She had something to brace against, he was stood on slippery stone, and her centre of gravity was lower than his. She should have been able to get him off her. Would have been able, even before she'd journeyed to Solitude, and now she was decked out in armour that was increasing her strength.

Larak didn't move an inch. Dulurza couldn't even extend her arms; it was like he was made of stone.

"Cheating bastard." She snarled.

He's working for Xander's big brother. Has he got enchantments too? I refuse to believe his are better than mine.

"Rich words, coming from one who has sold out to a Man." Larak snarled. "Was it cheating to—"

He'd chosen to monologue instead of take advantage of his initiative, like an idiot. Dulurza took one hand off her axe and punched him in the face.

The ring on her hand was enchanted, and should have made the punch strong enough to break his jaw, if not his neck. But he just rolled with the hit and turned back to her, glaring. His face felt like stone.

She punched him twice more, to similarly little effect, then went for a knuckle-strike at his throat. He apparently thought that was enough from her, catching her hand by the wrist and clasping his other arm about her throat. She gasped, tried to knee him between the legs (it didn't work, he was wearing armour), and then he yanked her up off her feet, holding her above him.

All two hundred kilograms of Orc and gear. One hand. Her throat.

And then he hissed (HISSED?) at her, and flung her away.

She crashed into the steps and rolled to a stop, groaning. This is starting to hurt…

But while she may not be a tactical genius like Hjar, she knew how to put pieces together. Dulurza stumbled to her feet, using her axe to prop herself up, and spat out:

"Vampire."

Larak narrowed his eyes but didn't respond.

You've gotta be kidding me…

A rocket of swirling flame crashed into the storm surrounding High Hrothgar. It was the size of a large humanoid and powerful, clashing with the icy, swirling wind in a blast of steam. The spin of the shield started pushing it to the side, but the cocoon of fire adjusted, tilting itself until its trajectory ran counter to the turn of the wind, and began to burrow through.

It only took a few seconds, of magic and power and force, for it to burst through the other side. The flames fell apart as it did so, revealing Cassia Meteuse, who landed in a skid in the snow on the other side.

"That…was maybe not the best plan…" She muttered, blowing out a small flame that had caught at a corner of her robe, before looking around.

The courtyard was empty. That was…unexpected. The Greybeards had been fighting here, there should be bodies here. So either they'd moved the casualties afterwards, or…

Or everyone they fought got thrown back out through the storm wall.

Cassia gulped, lit fires in her hands, and walked up the last steps.

The door opened at a shove, the creak of it echoing through the hall it revealed. A fire burned in a brasier by the door, and the corridor ahead lead into a wider room.

Cassia let the door close behind her, straining her ears, but heard no sounds of battle.

"Oh, wait, I have something for this, ahem—" She coughed and inhaled, before announcing:

"It's quiet. Too quiet."

A few seconds passed.

Nothing attacked her at her proclamation.

"Huh. I thought that was going to work." Cassia huffed, and stepped forwards.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I supposed to do something?"

"AAH!"

"Tum."

Cassia jumped at the voice, turning with the flames in her hands bursting, but they were snuffed out at the subtle, rumbling word.

There was an old man, sitting on the stone floor. There was a rug underneath him, and before him was a kettle (with no visible heat) and two teacups. He smiled benignly up at her. "Apologies for startling you. But, 'something something sword drawn or spell fired'. We've got a streak going."

Cassia was frozen, her hands pointed at him with magicka thrumming under her skin. "You're…a Greybeard."

"I am." He nodded.

"Are you…going to attack me?"

He tilted his head. "Hm…no, I don't think so."

"Oh." Cassia blinked. Looked around, but didn't see anyone else. "You're…under arrest? I think?"

"Heh. Do you know, I think that's the first time anyone's ever said that to me?" The man extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Arngeir. And you, I believe, are Cassia Meteuse."

"Hey, what's up." She prodded his outstretched hand with one finger. "You're still under arrest, and also where are your three cronies?"

"And I think that's the first time they've ever been called cronies, this is most fun." Arngeir retracted the hand, chuckling. "But very well, I'm under arrest. Now what?"

"I…you…uh…" Cassia looked around again, almost expecting to find people hiding behind pillars snickering at her. This was not how she'd expected the engagement to go. "I…I don't have handcuffs."

"So I see. Where would you take me?"

"Well down the hill there's a fight going on and up the hill there's also a fight going on." Cassia bit her lip. "So I suppose the best thing would be to…just keep you here…at spell-point…"

Arngeir smiled up at her. "Would you like some tea?"

8˂

L'laarzen was reasonably certain that she could beat Mirri Ulen in a fight.

It would be real nice if she got the chance to do it.

A hiss was the only warning before an explosion went off under the snow right at L'laarzen's feet, forcing her to jump backwards and lose another few metres of height as ice shards and rockdust peppered her.

She landed, and immediately jerked left as a spider burst out from the snow and pounced at her face. She was able to duck beneath it, catch it as it flew past, and snap its neck—

Then hissed, as something else dug into her right leg.

"Out of curiosity!" Mirri shouted. She was squatted at the edge of the path, staring down at L'laarzen. "Is there anyone, in your life, that actually appreciates the fact that you've entered it? I'm genuinely curious, because it seems to me like you can't do anything besides ruin the lives of everybody you encounter!"

Doing a front-flip was hard when you were ankle-deep in loose snow, harder on an upwards slope and harder still when there was something attached to your leg. L'laarzen did it anyways, grunting at the exertion, and was able to bring her legs over her head at the expense of landing flat on her back. It revealed the second spider, clinging to the back of her ankle and trying desperately to gnaw its way through to bone. She reached down and raked her claws along its back, the enchantment-boosted scratch enough to kill it outright—then was forced to roll to the side as another spider leapt down from above to try and land on her.

Mirri trapped the mountainside when she realised we were coming. Clever kitty. The spiders can burrow under the snow, and L'laarzen cannot see or smell them.

Regardless. Body still largely undamaged. Need to get up to her.

She spun her legs and got them underneath her, grabbing the spider as it jumped at her and slitting its throat. The 'absorb stamina' enchantment didn't provide the same boost from killing spiders as it did for killing people, but the boost was there, and it let her power herself a few more steps up the hillside.

"Ugh, you just don't stop, do you?" Mirri flung her arms into the air. "That's your problem, L'laarzen! You need to…just...stop!"

Her left hand snapped to the side and clenched, and suddenly there was an arrow caught between her fingers. She glanced at it, brows furrowed, and said "Huh. That's handy. Who's—"

The arm shifted again and batted another arrow out of the air, and L'laarzen had finally gotten high enough to notice Karliah, perched up on the other side of the path with her bow drawn.

"You have weird reflexes." The Nightingale called, before firing again.

Mirri's left arm came up to catch the shaft again, then crushed it, as she glared and whistled. A trio of spiders leapt from the snow and started scuttling over towards Karliah at an impressive pace. She fired twice more, putting two of them out of commission, before the third got close enough to jump at her. Instead of knocking the half-drawn arrow from her quiver, Karliah just stabbed it right through the spider's face—

Only to gasp as it started to glow—

An explosion blanketed the event from view.

And then L'laarzen was on top of Mirri.

Mirri twisted, her left arm (again with the left arm, didn't Dulurza mention something about her hand—) coming up to block the claws.

Mirri growled, drawing a sword with her other hand, and L'laarzen pulled, her enhanced strength from the enchantments enough to outright rip off Mirri's entire armoured sleeve, revealing—

Uh.

"What the FU—" L'laarzen got halfway through saying, before the hideous awful nasty veiny no-good twisted red monster hand spat a spider at her face.

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Hjar knew full-well that Urzoga obviously had something special going on. She just didn't know what it was yet.

She ducked under the spiked chain as it swung, bringing her mace down towards Urzoga's face. Urzoga hooked the chain around the mace at the hilt, redirecting the swing, and forced Hjar to twist away from the follow-up strike with the blade on its end.

"You realise I have to kill you now, right?" Hjar said, scrutinising her opponent. "Like, this is strike three. I have spared you twice now and you are back again to screw with me."

The lack of armour means something. So does the weapon switch. I doubt the apparent sickness is an accident either. What's she changed? Has she—Oh, son of a bitch. Is she a werewolf?

"Oh, no, I get it." Urzoga was grinning. "All the same, it's the principle of the matter. You've embarrassed me too many times, I have to kill you too."

"Well I'm glad we're on the same page!"

Hjar's eyes didn't flick away from Urzoga's face, as she saw Margret emerge from the chaos. She just ran forwards again, twirling her mace and raising it high over one shoulder.

Urzoga raised the chain to counter—

And stumbled, as Margret hurled a dagger that caught her in the upper shoulder. Hjar adjusted, aiming straight for Urzoga's face.

The chain dissolved.

Hjar's eyes widened as the metal fell apart into liquid, swirling back towards Urzoga's arms, even as the blade of a sword formed in one of her fists and stretched upwards. Hjar aborted the attack, swerving to one side, only for the sword to carve a gash underneath her shoulder. Urzoga's knee rammed into her chest a second later, folding her up and making her gasp.

What the—

Liquid metal—

Her skin's an ODD COLOUR—

Urzoga turned and stretched out a hand towards Margret, who was rushing forwards in a panic. A chain of metal burst from Urzoga's hand, whipping out towards Margret and making her drop to the floor.

She turned back to Hjar, who had already rolled away, clutching at her heavily bleeding wound. Potentially lethal, if not treated. But then, most people didn't have a free one-up in reserve.

"What did Meteuse do to you…" Hjar stared. "You're not a mage. But you're controlling that metal, it's…inside of you?"

"Say what you want about the ponce, but he's got a great sense of humour." Urzoga grinned. "You're marrying Thongvor, aren't you? I guess that means we're both Silver-Bloods."

Metal swirled around her arms, solidifying in the form of a sword and shield. "One of us more literally than the other."

Cassia glared down at Arngeir. "You're…you planned this. You're screwing with me."

Though the rustic Nordic aesthetic was throwing her off a little, this still smelled very strongly like all those stories of a Very Powerful Wizard pretending to be at someone else's mercy because it amused them. And even if he'd never read a spellbook in his life, Arngeir of the Greybeards was (for all intents and purposes) a Very Powerful Wizard.

"I am deliberately engineering a situation where we get to talk rather than fight, yes." He admitted. "But I don't intend to trick you into lowering your guard, and then explode you. This way you get to do what you were (presumably) sent to do, which is neutralise us, without having to risk the aforementioned violence."

This was so a trick and she was so going to get killed—

"Where are the others?" Cassia asked.

"Recovering in another room. And—" Another boom punctuated his point, making her flinch, "maintaining the storm barrier. With age comes age, I'm afraid. The fight was quite exhausting."

"Okay, I've definitely gotta go check on them." She started walking—

"If you leave me, I'll scarper up the mountain." Arngeir said, casually.

She turned back. "Then you can come with me."

"Hm. No."

"Then I'll shoot you."

"Then shoot me." He shrugged.

Cassia paused. Glared.

He smiled.

She walked over, grabbed him beneath the armpits, and heaved. He didn't move. She was about five feet tall and he was very heavy.

"…Well, you're welcome to the tea." Arngeir said, looking completely unmoved by her attempts to move him. "I'm going to have some. I'm parched, and I suspect you can guess why." He leaned down, muttered "Frin." at the teapot, and it immediately started bubbling.

Oh, that's why he doesn't have a fire. Cassia dropped him with a huff, stomped round until she was in front of him again, and sat.

"…This is the part where you try and corrupt me, isn't it." She said.

"I have no idea what you mean." Arngeir replied, blithely, pouring the hot water into the cups. He waited a beat, then "So, how shakeable is your loyalty feeling at present?"

"I will blast you—"

"Why are you trying to kill Paarthurnax, Miss Meteuse?" He interrupted, expression turning more serious.

Cassia clenched her fists, holding an expert level fire spell on the very edge of casting. "We're going to use his soul to help the Empire win a war against the Aldmeri."

"Well, there's not one part of that that doesn't sound evil."

"He's a Dragon."

"Who has done no harm since before the calendar we use even began." Arngeir held up a hand to forestall her comeback, and asked "Why do you think Alexander opposes this plan, then?"

Cassia grit her teeth. That's not fair. You can't try to corrupt me with the thing I'm sensitive about, it's cheating. "He killed the Emperor. He clearly doesn't care about Imperial interests."

"Actually, L'laarzen killed the Emperor. Your brother just aided and abetted." Arngeir took a sip of his tea and waited.

Cassia frowned. Well, frowned more. "How do you know that?"

"Alexander and his friends discussed it, during the Dragontruce. We Greybeards hear everything that happens within these walls." He met her eyes. "Would you like to know why he did it?"

"Yes, why?" She didn't even hesitate, but—

"Now that is interesting." Arngeir leaned back. "What will you do if I tell you?"

Cassia rolled her eyes. "So you don't know, you just want to—"

"I'm merely concerned that you will listen to what I say, and then judge whether to believe me or not."

"Updating beliefs based on new information is the whole point of learning new things."

"But do you want to update your beliefs?" Arngeir raised an eyebrow. "If I say 'Xander is absolutely right and your brother's wrong, here's why', I'm rather concerned that you will choose not to listen, in order to avoid changing your mind."

"I'm not afraid of the truth." Cassia growled. "But you have no reason to offer it. You'll say whatever it takes to save your boss."

"I should think that my principles are a little stronger than that." Arngeir only sounded playfully offended. "But the fact remains that you want to know why Xander is doing what he's doing. You don't like the idea that he's evil, do you? You'd much prefer it if this were all some big misunderstanding—"

"Don't talk like you know me." Cassia surged to her feet, pointing a flaming hand at his head.

"I don't. But Xander spoke of you, occasionally, during the truce." Arngeir smiled, looking at the floor. "He's tremendously proud of you, you know."

Okay, now this is just pure emotional blackmail. "What do you actually want from me?" Cassia demanded, even as her heart ached. "To turn me on my other two siblings? I'm barely holding together as it is!"

Arngeir nodded. "I understand. You care deeply for your family, and that's a wonderful thing. But you are doing them no favours if you allow them to make mistakes. Confronting them now will hurt, yes. But allowing this schism to fester and grow will only hurt more. And what you intend to do cannot be undone."

"So you want me to fight them and say sorry later? You still haven't given me any reason to change my mind!"

"Alexander Meteuse is on this mountain, Cassia." He looked up at her. "He and his friends are putting their lives on the line, fighting an army, to stop this from happening."

"Julius is just as determined."

"So he is. Your wish to trust in your family is honourable, but here you face a dilemma where it is not sufficient." Arngeir stood to his full height, making her step back.

"You're a mage, girl." He said. "You want your answers? Go find the bloody things."

Cassia's fists clenched tight enough to hurt. Then she released them.

"…Mum's gonna kill me for this—" She growled, before sprinting for the door.

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"When it's not ghosts, its vampires. Should I be working for Meridia? I get the grudge, now." Dulurza looked up at Larak, panting for breath.

Monologue. Vampire's don't tire, recovery time is to your advantage.

"Why are you doing this?" She demanded, pointing with her axe while pulling her other hand behind herself. "You let a wizard turn you into a night creature? For what?"

"You would never understand." Larak dismissed—

"Cos you never bloody say anything!" Dulurza shouted. Behind her back, she surreptitiously slipped off the enchanted ring. "The glory of the tribe, that's what you claimed to fight for! Well we HAVE IT! Your daughter leads the united Orc tribes of Skyrim to reforge Orsinium! Why did you run? Why are you here, working for the Thalmor?"

She sucked in a breath. A more shuddering one than she'd have liked. "Why did you leave us, father? What did we do?"

This distraction was getting far too personal, but it was working. Dulurza slid the ring into a pouch in her belt, rummaged briefly, and pulled out another.

Larak narrowed his eyes. "You lost sight of your purpose."

He blurred forwards again, Malacath vampires were fast, and she was barely able to bat his first mace swing away.

"You threw your lot in with the Legion." He snarled, striking again. "Well I once fought in the Legion, girl. I gave them my loyalty, even as me and mine were treated as expendable. We were thrown by foolish commanders against the Elves, died in their war, fighting for our freedom, and then what?"

She swung at him, and instead of blocking with his shield, he sidestepped and swung the spiked edge of it at her head. Pain blossomed and she was sent stumbling away, her helmet thrown off to land in the snow.

"WE WERE ABANDONED!" Larak roared at her. "The tribes of Skyrim were enemies of the state again, pests to be hunted down! These Men you cavort around with know no loyalty, no honour!"

She ducked and thrust with the axe, scoring a light strike across the inside of his leg. It stiffened as the paralysis went to work, but he wasted no time stomping on the haft with her other foot, trapping the axe against the floor. She released it, surging upwards—

Only for him to crack her across the face with a backhand, his own mace dropped to the side, and haul her up by the lapels to his eye level.

"I don't need Mor Khazgur to win." Larak declared. "I just need the Empire to lose. For the race of Men to burn, as my fellow soldiers burned, for them to die in the agony they deserve! To Oblivion with my clan and myself, if that's what it takes. I Will Have My Revenge."

Sluggishly, Dulurza brought her face up to meet his eyes.

"That's…that's it?" She asked.

Larak blinked—

Dulurza donned the ring she'd had clasped between her fingers, and struck him in the face again. This time, at the moment of impact, there was a burst of flame, and Larak howled and dropped her.

The first ring was primarily designed to make her more dangerous with her axe. The backup one made her fists set people on fire.

"THAT'S ALL?" Dulurza repeated, hitting the floor and then surging back upwards to crack another blistering strike under Larak's chin. "IS THAT ALL YOU ARE? HATE MADE FLESH?"

She punched him about the jaw twice more, the fire sending him stumbling back. He caught the next, so she shifted closer and struck him in the stomach, which made him drop it, and then kicked his leg out from under him. "I REVERED YOU! YOU WERE EVERYTHING I WANTED TO BE! AND NOW ALL I FIND IS THIS? A ZOMBIE FIGHTING FOR A CAUSE AS DEAD AS HE IS?"

He was still stronger than her, lashing out wildly and knocking her fists away; she backed up only a moment before charging in again, flames curling about her fists as she delivered punch after punch into his guard. His arms were up, blocking his uncovered head, she wasn't getting anywhere driving her fists into his armour, so when he lashed out with a punch of his own she swerved past it, pushing closer and reaching for his face. She didn't have a strike planned, just latched her hand around his jaw and nose and squeezed, hearing him scream outright as the enchantment took effect and blazed into his skin—

One of his hands grabbed the side of her head, and shoved.

Dulurza didn't go flying; she just went down. Her entire body flipped as her head was yanked towards the floor and she barely had a chance to flinch before—

CRACK.

She—

It—

She wasn't—sure if she'd—lost, in, uh—

Her vision was white, and then it was spots. She couldn't tell up from down. She might have passed out. She didn't…what was her—

Something impacted her, probably, rolling her over. She groaned, bringing a hand up to her head. It…she didn't think it hurt, but something was damp. It probably should hurt. She'd…ah, crap.

Garbled noise came from above (below?) her, which she was eventually able to process as the words "Rule one of fighting: Always guard your head. Look at us, failing at the basics."

She looked towards where she thought the sound was, vision still too blurry to see anything. Then something slapped her across the face, and she regained some focus, blinking.

Larak had her by the shoulder plate of her armour. His face was a mess—green skin scorched black, eyes blood-red, jaw barely connected to his skull. But he was standing and she wasn't. That was probably a bad thing, now that she thought about it.

"This is your final chance." He declared. "Surrender. Join me, and finish our mission to destroy the realms of Men."

Fighting continued in the distance, and the wind swirled around them. Blood dripped onto the snow.

Despite everything, Dulurza laughed. She spat blood at Larak's feet, and looked up at him, grinning.

"Bit of a problem, there." She said. "I've fallen in love with one of them."

Silence.

Then Larak's grip on her shoulder tightened, popping something and making her cry out.

"Then we will see what fondness remains when all life is removed from you." He declared, baring his fangs and leaning down.

8˂

A spider hit L'laarzen's face and she screamed, reeling backwards, bringing her arms up to yank the thing off.

It was smaller than the ones that were already scattered through the snow, but it's little pincers had all dug deep enough Into Her Face that she screamed again when she pulled it off as it tore chunks of blood and fur with it—

It was still about to explode—

She hurled it off the edge of the path, the explosion sending her stumbling, turned to see Mirri lunging towards her with a rapier—

And Karliah intercepted the attack, knocking it aside with her bow. One of the Nightingale's arms hung limply at her side, and smoke still rose from her cracked and crackling armour. She snarled, swinging her bow at Mirri, who's left arm lashed out to catch it, and wrench it away.

Karliah vanished on the spot, and the following thrust with the rapier hit nothing but air. L'laarzen rushed in to replace her, then darted back again, as the tip of the sword came within inches of her eyes.

Damn the bitch, and damn her crush. Did she have to pick her weapon of choice specifically to counter me? I can't get close with my claws without being skewered.

But Karliah was nearby, and Mirri knew it.

The arm screamed. It was a twisted, wretched thing, some fleshy red biological monstrosity. Five claws stuck out of it at not quite the right angle for human feelers, and something was churning in its palm, where it had spat the spider out. It looked as though whatever it was had latched onto the stump of Mirri's arm and then spread up to her elbow, and—

L'laarzen was quite done thinking of what it was or what it might do, she would be much happier for never seeing it again. But it screamed, which wasn't something she'd expected it to do until the noise sent a jagged pain through her eardrums.

The snow around them rippled, as what looked like every spider Mirri had started skittering forwards at once. At least half looked ready to explode.

Is she mad? She'll kill herself!

Mirri looked…quite mad.

"You took the one thing in this world I actually cared about!" She howled. "And I don't even think you can love! So no matter what I do to you, I can't make you feel what I feel! So I'm just going to kill you, and rid this world of the blight you are!"

The spiders were getting closer, and Mirri was sprinting towards her.

L'laarzen sighed and closed her eyes, touching one hand to the key hanging about her neck.

And unlocked all of her body's limits at once.

Her eyes snapped open and saw everything, she could track every creature moving in her sight, peripherals and all, and a quick glance around told her where all the spiders and all the soldiers and Mirri and even Karliah (who's invisibility came from Nocturnal and so was bypassed entirely by Nocturnal's artefact) were and what they were doing, even if it made her head ache to see it all that fast—

She blasted forwards, muscles in her legs flaring up at being forced to push her that hard, and Mirri's eyes widened as L'laarzen just slapped her rapier away and went straight for her throat—

But the arm got in the way, and L'laarzen could see it now, see how the parasite was pulling Mirri into position of its own accord. So she just shoved, shoved so hard some of the muscles in that arm tore and Mirri was sent hurtling backwards off her feet towards Karliah, and there was no time to capitalise on that because the first spider was leaping—

L'laarzen cut it out of the sky—one swipe, done—and pushed it towards a group of others, and used the momentum shoving Mirri had given her to propel herself towards another spider, killed it, pivoted on one foot so fast something in her ankle snapped, and then the spider she'd pushed exploded but by now she'd gotten a good look at how they worked, and for the next spider she swiped one claw through just the right tendon on its body to seize it up and kill it without it exploding, and then she sprinted further, killed three more with three strikes, realised she was hurtling towards a pack of Morag Tong and killed all of them too as she flew past, couldn't stop herself, hit the wall of the mountain with both feet, looked back, Karliah had caught Mirri with her one good hand as she fell and flipped her over one shoulder, landing on top of a trio of the spiders which were already glowing and about to detonate but quite possibly kill both of them so L'laarzen propelled herself off the stone so hard that bones in both her legs snapped and

(eat your heart out, Mercer)

Practically flew across the path, slamming into Karliah and shoving her away just as another explosion lit up the mountain.

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Hjar stared at Urzoga.

Urzoga stared at Hjar.

"Silver blood." Hjar said. "Okay, that's actually pretty funny."

And she charged.

Margret rolled to her feet and hurled another dagger, Urzoga shifted so she wasn't directly between them and batted it away with her shield. Hjar shifted course, catching the dagger out of the air and throwing it again, and Urzoga was forced to drop her shield to thigh-level to block it, leaving her open to—

Nope, the shield flowed up her arm and turned itself into a shoulder-plate. Urzoga stumbled under the strike from Hjar's mace, as the Daedric artefact splattered through the silver and hit her shoulder, but she certainly didn't die.

The retaliatory swipe of her sword cut Hjar's left ear off.

Margret shouted in panic, but it didn't matter, Hjar had already consigned herself to transforming she just didn't want to do it yet. She staggered under the pain and suddenly missing sound (don't ears do something for balance?) and drew Faolan's Whatever.

Urzoga's sword transformed into a spear and she thrust it, but Hjar sliced the head of it off with the glowing red sword. Once it lost contact, the silver spattered across the ground in steaming puddles.

Is it hot? Is it magic or is it actually hot enough to melt? What did Julius do?

A problem for Xander to ponder; Hjar's problem was that Margret had attacked and Urzoga's shield had grown spikes, making her backpedal, so Hjar ran in again.

Urzoga kicked out at Margret, which Margret punished by swiping with her daggers and drawing a line of blood from her tendon—

But it wasn't blood that came out, it was more silver, and a spear of the stuff lashed out and grazed Margret's armour, making her cry out and fall back.

That was not okay.

Hjar swung with her mace; Urzoga countered with brute force and knocked it away, the silver shifting into a second blade in her right hand and—

Sod it.

Hjar screamed and thrust.

Her sword buried itself in Urzoga's gut.

Urzoga's second blade buried itself in Hjar's neck.

Urzoga gasped, and through the agony, Hjar grinned. I win. Her ring gleaming, she prepared to transform—

And a torrent of metal burst from Urzoga's chest. Faolan's sword was thrown clear of the wound, and Urzoga's own blade slipped free of Hjar's neck as Hjar was impaled by a great rod of metal that hurled her up into the air.

Hjar's wounds splattered an ungodly amount of blood on the floor, but Urzoga's didn't, they just seemed to be producing more silver that seemed content to stay right where it was unless she directed it. Right now, while she roared in pain, the metal coming from Urzoga's chest wound shifted, dug into the ground at her feet, solidified, and detached itself.

Hjar was stuck on a silver spike, five feet in the air, and losing so much blood she was going to die in seconds.

She had to transform. She knew she wasn't going to like it.

"I…should have stayed in bed…with my girlfriieeEEEAAAAAAA—" Hjar screamed, as fur spread across her skin and the hole in her stomach began to burn.

Bustle, clattering and rage. Footsteps on snow. War in the air.

Paarthurnax looked up from his perch on the word wall at the peak of High Hrothgar.

It was a force of about twenty that approached him. Mostly Elves, though they were lead by a Man—well, a female Man. How strange; it had actually been over a thousand years since since he'd seen a woman.

The Greybeards do know that the females can learn Dovahzuul, yes? Surely they must. Unless the females do not grow beards, and they misunderstood somewhere…Bah. Mortals and their breeding.

"From the stench of you, I do not expect you are here to talk." He rumbled. "But am willing to be pleasantly surprised."

Many of the mortals began to smell of fear, as they should. He wondered for how many this was their first time seeing a Dragon.

Good, then, that their standards are set by myself, for there are few more magnificent—Bah, again! Vanity, Paarthurnax, keep hold of it!

"We come to bring an end to you, Dragon!" Shouted the young woman in the lead. "It's high time you paid for your sins!"

"What is greater? To be born good, or to overcome one's evil nature through great effort?" Paarthurnax mused. "I have paid, mortal, paid more than you could pay in your entire lifetime."

She paused. Shrugged. "Eh, maybe. To be honest, I'm not here for justice. I just need to put your soul in a crystal and use it as a weapon."

She flicked out the strange object she was carrying.

Paarthurnax snarled, a sound that made most of the mortals present startle.

He had suspected, but not been sure. That gem contained the soul of one of his kin.

"Once, I asked Al-Du-In if there was anything he feared." He growled. "He did not name me, nor the Gods, nor the Dovahkiin. He answered 'Paar Do Jul'. The ambition of Man. Now I see why."

"Aww, you're gonna make me blush." The woman replied. She waved a hand, and some of her minions split off, spreading around the mountaintop.

Paarthurnax kept his eyes on her. "Name yourself, mortal."

"Octavia Meteuse."

"Octavia, you do not know what you do. My death will harm this world in ways you cannot understand."

"I mean I plan to win a war with it, so that tracks." Octavia said, looking unbothered. Interestingly, however, the Mer at her right hand began to grin quite viciously at his words.

At least one of them understands their goal, then. Hmph. Or that one's just crazy.

Paarthurnax spread his wings, and rose up to his full height. His muscles ached, and the tears in his flesh stung. He was old, and exhausted from his fight with Alduin. But he was still a Dragon.

"Come at me, then!" He roared. "Come, and know that he who strikes first will be the last to be allowed to die! Come, and see why it was I who the Men of ages gone most—"

"OCTAVIAAAAAAAAAA!"

A flash of red-gold blurred up the side of the mountain, zooming towards the group of mortals, and Paarthurnax was just barely able to see that there was an—angry child?—in it and—

"Cassia?" Octavia had about a second to look flabbergasted before the angry child collided into her and both went careening away, vanishing off the top of the mountain.

The Dovah-soul-crystal landed in the snow.

"…feared." Paarthurnax finished. "Hm. Well, I'm ready when you are."

Final battle means EVERYBODY GETS HURT, NOBODY IS SAFE.

Except Cassia. Cassia gets her feelings hurt.

You may have noticed there is a suspicious absence of Mage Boi in this chapter, for the third chapter and first main chapter in the story so far. That's going to be true of the next one as well. His battle with Julius will take place as its own chapter.

Oh, and no DB. Sorry. Much like Azura, you're going to have to guess as to how that one's playing out.

Until then, you get to enjoy the horrific science experiments Julius has made of our protagonists' long-standing rivals. Or, in Hjar's case, 'the one goon who managed to survive her 100% Enemy Execution Speedrun'.

I really didn't plan for Hjar to have the highest villain mortality rate, but no, when she deals with people she deals with them.

Well the lines are drawn and the hangers are cliffed, lets see where this goes.