Ancano simply could not believe that some insolent whelp had the audacity to grab him, Eye of the Aldmeri Dominion, one of the highest ranking Thalmor in Skyrim-no, in Tamriel! And to put a sword to his neck!? He could already feel the sparks crackle across his fingertips. "I suggest you choose your next action wisely, worm," he spat.
Ulfric wished he could say he was shocked when the Thalmor strutted in, but he had seen far too many of the robed lowlifes since the Great War, and he was proud to say that he had walked away from every shallow grave he left them in. Ulfric watched the elf walk past with barely a glance.
It was pure instinct that led Ulfric to grab the elf and put his blade to his throat. Ulfric gave himself pause when he felt the sword's resistance on skin. His blood was rushing in his ears, deafening his more rational thoughts, all the ones that identified the man as anything but a threat.
"I suggest you choose your next action wisely, worm." The Thalmor spoke up. Ulfric heard his words punctuated by the pop of static; the elf was ready to fight back. Ulfric had always made it a point to never kill in cold blood, especially not without a fair fight. But the lightning dancing across the mage's hands seemed to imply that he was wholly unconcerned about his fate, that he could easily survive having a sword of all things pressed to his neck. Besides, the wisest course of action he could figure was to remove the immediate threat of a dangerous and arrogant Thalmor mage.
Ulfric pressed the sword further into the Thalmor's neck, pulling the harsh serrations of the Daedric weapon to catch on the delicate skin.
Ancano rolled his eyes; as if it was the first time an idiot had tried to kill him. His attacker seemed to be less adept than most, as Ancano had time to not only speak, but to cast a spell. Lightning Cloak was far more than effective against assailants who managed to get into melee range-Ancano cursed himself for being so distracted as to let himself get in such a situation. Ancano had also found over his many uses of said spell that Lightning Cloak at such a short range had a slight paralyzing effect.
He was able to push the attacker off and cast Thunderbolt, another spell that had delicious short range effects, into his attacker's chest. "Did you really think you could kill me?" Ancano sneered, turning to face the fool that had decided to make Ancano's day a little more interesting.
Ancano's eyes widened and his smirk grew as he watched Ulfric Stormcloak sink to the ground. The sketches of him in his Dossier were astoundingly accurate, he noted. Oh, this was grand. Arresting the Ulfric Stormcloak would get him out of this frozen excuse for a mage's college; perhaps even to the Imperial City embassy or all the way to Alinor. "Ah, Stormcloak!" Ancano said with a twinkle in his eye. "How goes the war? Last I heard the Imperials were practically on Windhelm's gates." He paused to step closer to Ulfric, watching the sparks of his Lightning Cloak jump to Ulfric's prone form. "You didn't flee, did you?"
Ulfric twitched on the ground, barely able to keep himself on his knees. Every breath came as a shudder, and he was hyperaware of each arc of static that dug deep into his flesh like daggers. Still, he kept tight grip on his sword, swiping at the Thalmor's legs, which the mage easily stepped back from.
"Oh, come, now," Ancano taunted, "surely your precious Talos will save you." Ancano decided to accentuate his words with another Thunderbolt. Ulfric glared up at Ancano, something that he found decidedly unthreatening, given their respective positions. Ulfric opened his mouth to respond, no doubt to defend his worthless deity. Ancano could've laughed at his patheticness. This was the man who led the biggest rebellion in Imperial history? A general and tactician so great a threat he had one of the largest Dossiers in the Aldmeri Dominion?
"Fus, Ro Dah!" Ulfric Shouted, sending Ancano flying back into the wall, his head hitting with a resounding crack.
"-And he said I must find the Augur of Dunlain." Nariilu finished recounting her brief conversation with Quaranir to the Archmage. She really didn't need this, being as close to defeating Alduin as she was. This was another day that he would be devouring souls, getting that much more difficult for her to kill. She would much rather be devouring souls herself, as well; she had a few Words of Power she didn't understand yet, and there were reports of a dragon near Riften.
Archmage Aren tapped his fingers on his forearm. "Hmm. The Augur of Dunlain? I don't see any reason for you to go seek him out. It's much too dangerous."
"Sir, with all due respect, everything I do is much too dangerous," Nariilu replied. She couldn't believe that the Archmage was denying this based on the danger, of all things. Perhaps, she thought, he was hiding something. "Just who is the Augur?"
"A former student of the College who had a habit of sticking his nose where he shouldn't have. He nearly killed himself; though I suspect that would be a better fate," Archmage Aren said, frowning slightly. "He is a warning to keep your research mundane, and your aspirations achievable."
Nariilu sighed. Archmage Aren never had been one for easy, or useful, answers. "I understand, Archmage." She turned left his quarters, starting down the stairs. Tolfdir, perhaps, had a large mouth, and would be more than happy to spill any secret the Archmage didn't want her to know, if she could tear him away from the Eye or a lecture for long enough.
The building suddenly shook, and Nariilu widened her stance to keep from falling over. She was gripped with fear that the College was finally going down with Winterhold, but she heard an echoing voice Shouting in a language she barely understood. "Stormcloak," She muttered, regaining her pace and leaping down the stairs.
A single word of Unrelenting Force wasn't much; it could take the leaves off a tree or make an opponent search for their footing, but only up to a few feet away. A full powered, practiced one could send everything and everyone that wasn't bolted down flying, cause avalanches, and make even dragons stumble from the next town over.
This had been a full Shout.
Ancano had hit his head hard against the stone wall. He groaned in pain and annoyance; magic was a mental achievement, and being concussed would do nothing to help him. His vision blurred, and he was aware that he had lost concentration on his Lightning Cloak. He cast it again and stumbled to his feet, his hands glowing with magicka that could be used for any number of spells he knew.
Ulfric pulled himself up, relaxing his muscles that were tense from the lightning. He walked towards the Thalmor who was holding his head in his hands and doing his best to stay upright. Ulfric sped up when the elf's body began to crackle a faint purple; a much less powerful spell than he had cast not a minute earlier. Ulfric pushed the sword through the Thalmor's abdomen, the sharp point slipping through his robes and skin with little resistance.
He gasped, then the glow around his body ceased and Ancano fell limp on Ulfric's sword. Removing the sword was much more difficult; the gut hooks performed their job exceedingly well, and caught on just about everything. Ulfric gave up on removing the sword halfway through and sat down; he could still feel the echoes of the lightning bouncing through him.
Ulfric wondered what to do with the body. He certainly couldn't move it, not in his state when he couldn't even pull out the sword. Not to mention the growing pool of blood that would stain the stone floor if it wasn't cleaned up soon, and the clutter of things that had been caught in his Shout. He sighed and moved the Thalmor's robes to mop up some of the blood, it was certainly a start. Ulfric felt the tingling in his body start to lessen; after a few minutes rest, he would be able to deal with his mess.
Nariilu would've likely been pulled into Tolfdir's lecture, had she not been in a full sprint. She pushed open the heavy doors and only slipped once in the icy courtyard before coming to the Hall of Attainment. "Fus, Ro," she Shouted, opening the doors enough for her to not have to pause and open them herself.
Her eyes immediately focused on the body at the far side of the room with a sword-her sword-sticking out of its abdomen. She was just aware of Ulfric sitting to one side, grasping at his own abdomen. "What," the Dragonborn asked, stepping closer to investigate the scene, "in Oblivion," Ancano's eyes blankly stared at the ceiling, his hair matting with blood that didn't seem to come from the pool beneath him, "did you do?"