This is kind of a long chapter. Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 12- Mane Event Part 2
"I have never felt this way before, my In, my master. I feel like I have a home... Why is it only now I realize what I had?" Burz was speaking with Paarthurnax on the outskirts of the camp. It was well into the night, and much of the army had already set off for a city named Orcrest. It had been a long while since Burz spoke with his master.
"Many times, we do not know what we have until we have lost it, young Dovahkiin. You finally have a brod again. A clan. You have... what you would call a family. Much like I have with the Graybeards. All you have know was Kein, war. You have been a Kendov-Kaal, a warrior champion, all your life! But you settled down. You took on a wife. We gave up moro, glory, for our Brod. I did the same when I settled on Monahven. Ogiim, orc, we found what it is to live. You just didn't realize you had until now that it is too late. But this is all apart of your Lovaas, your song. The Divines have this plan for you, but I feel they will grant you rest after this, Dovahkiin. Don't you worry." Paarthurnax's words were always slow, but sure. He always took time to truly choose his words. His wisdom was not easily matched.
"Your words are comforting, my In. However, I fear that I may never know a peaceful life." Burz said, his heart heavy.
"Stubborn Ogiim!" The aged dragon retorted. Burz looked at him with confusion. Paarthurnax was rarely that forward. "You feel that this is all you will ever know because it is all you have known till now! For thousands of years, millennium even, I was a killer! My very name reflects what I was! In your tongue I am Ambition, Overlord, Cruelty! What you are now is not what you will always be, Dovahkiin. I once met a young Argonian man shortly after the Oblivion Crisis so many years ago. He had aided Martin Septim in destroying Mehrunes Dagon. Was was the Kaal of Cyrodiil! But he went on to do grave atrocities in his life time. Acts that he pays for to this day. You will see peace after this, Dovahkiin." Paarthurnax's voice rumbled. A few of the soldiers were staring; they were not accustomed to being so close to a dragon.
Burz sat silent for a long while. He began to meditate on what his teacher had told him. He felt a peace pouring over him as he began to accept what Paarthurnax had said. The cool wind of the Elsweyr night blew his wispy hair. It felt good after the long hot of the day. He thought he should let sleep take him for the night. He had a long journey ahead of him at daybreak. He stood without disturbing Paarthurnax's meditation and walked towards his tent. He would sleep very peacefully tonight.
The blazing sun stirred him from his slumber once again the next day. He stumbled out of bed as sleep had not yet left his body. He went for the water supply to rinse the beads of sweat already collecting on his forehead off. As he strolled through the village, he saw other soldiers peaking out of their tents. The sky was a strange mix of orange and blue purple as the sun came scorching from the east, and the night retreated from the flames to the west. Why was it so hot already? Burz could not wait until they got out of this wretched dry land.
He reached the water jars and emptied some into a small bowl. He splashed it on his face and filled the bowl up again, this time for a drink. The water trickled down his growing beard. He had stopped shaving once they had moved into Morrowind; he simply didn't care. He saw Odahviing was sleeping close to the water. He walked over and woke the sleeping mass to send him off for another water run. The army had already consumed over half the supply the previous night. Odahviing did not appretiate being awoken for such a trivial task, but he flew to the west towards the lake. He would be back in time to move out. Burz filled up another bowl and drank it. Today would be a hard day to get through.
Burz made his way to the command hut. He wanted to study the map they had found at the local traders. Corinth was a 5 hour march to the south of their position. He would march the army to the city gates, demand the Mane surrender himself, and when he didn't, the army would mount an attack. He figured he should leave a small squad of 20 men and a dragon or so to defend the village. He wasn't quite sure why he was still looking at the map. He knew the way. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to begin this particular journey. He took a deep sigh and backed away from the map. It was a shame he had given up mead prior to leaving Skyrim, he could use a drink.
Burz nervously held his sword in his hand. It had been crafted by his father, as was the steel armor covering his body. He turned his head to look at his father, who stood much higher than he. His father looked down at him, scowling. His hair jet black and pulled back. His beard was in a war braid. The teeth of his lower jaw jutted out, crooked and chipped from years of hard battle. His boney brow and yellow war paint strewn across his deep green features made his seem almost feral. Burz had seen his father ready for battle before, but he had never joined him until now. His hand had a steady tremble from fear.
"Father, sir... am I too young for this? I'm scared." Burz's voice was small compared to what it would become.
"Don't be. We have trained, and it is time for real fighting. It's just mountain lions any way. We need to rid ourselves of them." His father's voice was deep and powerful compared to Burz's young voice. His stern expression did not soften at his child's plea.
"But sir, I am only 9... This sword is heavy. Why can't Gallic help you? Dad?" Burz pleaded with his father.
"Son! Gallic is helping your mother with the chores. It is time for you to learn. Now stop complaining, we need to be silent to sneak up on these cats." His father cut him short. He was always very stern and hard on his son, like many orc fathers. Burz figured he would never do this to his child, should he have one.
The pair crouched down behind a pile of rocks and some brush sticking up from the ground. Burz eyed his sword. It was large in his hand, but well crafted. His armor was loose, but was made so he could grow into it. The elder orc stood up high enough to see over the rock. He scanned the area and gave Burz the signal to move to the next pile of rocks. Burz's father moved behind a tall patch of brush. He picked around to scan again. He gave Burz another signal, the lions were ahead. He was to sneak up to a patch of grass and wait for his father. They would spring the attack together. Burz felt his stomach in his chest. He ducked out from the rocks and scuttled over to the brush ahead. The lions heard him and looked up. They didn't see him, but they were now on the look out.
Burz's father couldn't come from his position because the lions were alert. They would have to spring the attack with Burz in front. His heart was pounding hard and fast. He was used to wooden sticks and dull swords. Not wild animals and large claws that could spill his insides with one swipe. He looked back at his father. They made eye contact. His father gave a rare smile, it looked as wild as the beasts they were stalking. He gave the signal. It was time. Burz leaped out from behind the brush as his father did the same a few yards back. They charged at the lions, who instantly prepared for combat.
Burz shook his head, getting the memory of his first real fight out of his head. That was so long ago, yet the feeling he had was fresh in his mind. The army was nearing it's target. He could see the city faintly in the distance. He had no idea how far it was exactly. Distance was hard to judge with so little around. He could see tall slender towers rising above the ground. They looked like extra tall grass from this distance as they were a sandy tan color. It looked like the Khajiit had just taken the sand and sculpted a mecca out of it. It was as large as any hold in Skyrim, possibly bigger. There were many dome shaped buildings under the towers.
By this point, the grass had started to fade and turn patchy. There was more sand around them, and trees had become less sparse. There was even a lake close by. The patches of grass that were left even had a little color to them. According to the map, the terrain would become more of a forest to the south of Corinth. Burz decided it would be a good idea to take a short break since they were close to water, and approaching the city. He couldn't have his forces falling over from walking. He called for a halt in the march, and spread word that they would continue in 15 minutes. He made his way to some shade close to the water's edge and propped himself up against a tree.
Odahviing thundered over to him to drink. Paarthurnax had volunteered to stay back at camp to help guard it. "So, Dovahkiin, getting ready for some fun? It has been a long while since I've gotten to kill something. There was a pesky soldier that kept coming by the water jars that I thought about killing, but I thought it best to spare him." The Red Dragon laughed at his own joke. Burz smirked slightly. He knew Odahviing well enough to know he was joking, but from the looks other soldiers gave him, he knew they didn't get it.
"You know, jokes like that make it hard for people to trust you, friend." Burz continued to smirk.
"I have no worries about them. Once they see what I can do, they will learn to appreciate me." He laughed again.
"Odahviing, don't you ever grow tired of fighting? Doesn't killing ever get old to you?" Odahviing looked surprised by this.
"No, it hasn't. I am a warrior. I pledge my allegiance to the strongest warrior I know. Right now that is you, Dovahkiin. This is what I live for..." His voice trailed off. It was not the answer Burz wanted to hear. He thought it best not to push the subject.
"Right, that is what I thought," Burz replied shortly. He sat for a few more minutes and decided to begin rounding up the ranks again. They should move out soon. They had rested enough. They still had much ahead of them.
"It is your time, my son. You must find your own way in the world now." Burz's father sounded slightly softer than normal. There was a hint of sadness in it, but only a hint. Burz looked into his father's eyes. He had developed small bags under his eyes, and his once jet black hair had streaks of gray. His face was still fierce, but age had softened him a small bit. It was Burz's 15th birthday, and it was their old clans custom to send their children off to become men at this age so that they could come back as strong warriors, or they could start tribes of their own. Even though his father had been exiled from his clan, he stayed true to their ways. His hope was that his children could earn their way back in. Clan life was easier than being alone.
Burz's mother gazed deeply into his face. She showed a little more remorse than his father, but there was still little expression to her face. Burz had grown strong and proud since his mountain lion raid with his father. Burz felt a little sting in his eyes as he tried to hold back tears. He had not yet mastered his emotions like his parents. His father stepped closer and put his hand on the young orc's shoulder.
"Be strong, my son. Your journey will be difficult. You are welcome back once you have found your manhood." His father said, his voice was tender. Burz looked up and saw a tear in his father's eye. They were sending him off with a tent, a bed roll, and a small bag full of coins. He would not get to say good bye to his younger brother, who was on an errand to Anvil. The family had planned that as it would be difficult for Gallic to say goodbye.
Wordlessly, Burz turned towards his family's gate and made his way towards it. He was holding back a burning wave of tears as he turned back to get one last look at his parents. Both were smiling proudly as their son was off to become a proud orc warrior. He opened the gate and took his first step on his journey to manhood. As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he got off the road and broke into tears. He let them spill freely. He was unsure when he would see his family again, and it killed him inside.
The army was getting rather close to Corinth now. There was a tan, sandy wall surrounding the city, not even as tall as Odahviing. Behind it was the city. A bustling mecca of Khajiit of all kinds. There were many square buildings near the city gate. The farther in, the larger and more extravagant the buildings got. But they were all tan. All sandy. The guards saw the army approaching and were shocked at the massive herd of people moving their way. Then they saw the dragons... They sounded the alarm, and the townspeople rushed into their homes, and the guards stirred from their barracks. Had they truly not known they were coming?
Burz was unsure if it was some sort of surprise attack. They had very few soldiers of the wall to defend the city. Something didn't sit right. He approached the city and used his Thu'um to project his voice.
"By decree of the Imperial Legion, I call upon The Mane, ruler of this land! Surrender yourself, and relinquish your rule over this land and these people, and there will be no bloodshed!" Burz's thundering voice echoed off of the city walls. The guards looked dumbfounded as to how he spoke so loudly. He saw a few of them disappear into the city. He waited a few moments and repeated himself. Nothing. He gave the signal for the army to advance. They marched a number of paces when Burz saw what looked like a high ranking warrior climb up the wall. He halted the army to see if the individual would speak.
Without a word, the Khajiit warrior signaled to his archers that were hidden by the walls to fire a volley of flaming arrows. A cloud of fire descended on the Legion army. Burz bellowed to the soldiers to shield themselves. Once the sky was clear, Burz called on the dragons to advance. Odahviing leaped into the sky, followed by a handful of winged beasts. They screeched towards the unimpressive city wall. The guards atop the wall dashed away to avoid the dragons onslaught. Odahviing threw himself into the sandy tan wall, crumpling it to the ground, and exposed the archers that had brought on the cloud of flames. Some were crushed under the heavy boulders the wall had become.
Burz bellowed for the army to storm the gates. The hot sun beamed down from the mid-day sky. The mass of flesh and steel oozed it's way the Corinth's partially demolished wall. Odahviing picked himself up from his destruction. He leaped into the sky once more and reigned fire down on the archers as they fled his flames. The army made it's way to the city walls with few casualties. The guards that were still left standing on the wall threw spears down at the attackers as they funneled through the new massive gateway.
"FUS-ROH-DAH!" Burz blasted a number of guards from their stations they clang to so desperately. He still felt a sense of unease. His soldiers trickled into the streets, chopping down any resistance in their path. The dragons caused mayhem and destruction as they stayed ahead of the soldiers to ease their assault. The Khajiit were like children cowering below their angry parents. Many of them laid down their weapons and gave up in hopes of being spared.
The typical dry, tan sand was mixing with the wet blood it's inhabitants. It was turning into a goopy mixture of dark brown and red as the bodies piled up, one by one. The Legion made their way through the square sand huts and made it's way to the nicer parts of the city. They met with an unexpected obstacle. There was a second wall within the city. Burz called for his Dovah friend who crashed the second wall. In his wake flooded the Legion army, who met with a much stronger foe. This is where the warriors of the Khajiit had been waiting. Burz unsheathed his hammer and prepared to attack.
"YOL-TOOR-SHUL!" Burz let out an inferno at the Khajiiti warriors. The smell of scorched fur was pungent. His hammer met with skull after skull. It was strange how this was all coming back to him so easily. A massive paw came from no where and met with Burz's face, swiping helm clean off. He recoiled as he gained his balance again. He turned to face his attacker. It looked to be an oversized saber cat. He readied his hammer as he bolted at his foe. As he swung, the cat pawed his hammer and knocked it from his hands.
"TIID-KLO-UL!" Time itself bent to his will. The cat's movements slowed as he pulled a blade from his chest plate. His thoughts had time to catch up with the action. He aimed his blade where the beast's heart should be and let it fly. As the dagger pierced the cats skin and tore through the bone, a set of fangs wrapped itself around the Khajiit body. Burz looked up and saw one of the dragon warriors clenching his foe up from the ground. Time sped back up to normal pace. The dragon tossed the warrior like one would toss a sack of potatoes.
Burz sprinted over to his hammer and found his helm. He continued his advance towards the palace. In Skyrim, he would be working his way up a hill, but the land was flat here. The building continued to tower over him. The roads were much more narrow in this land. It was hard to orient himself. There was death and fire all around him. He was nearing the center building. The Palace. He would find the Mane there, and end all this swiftly. He looked to the sky and saw the burning sun directly overhead. It was blinding and unrelenting. He noticed the dragons circling above, each scoping out their next target.
He continued down the path towards the Palace. From above came a loud crashing sound, and large segments of building came crashing down around him as a dragon corpse came crashing down to earth on the path ahead of him. He took cover in the closest building until the chaos had subsided. He then continued ahead, climbing over his fallen brother. He was very close now, as he was in the shadow of his target. He saw a Khajiit out of the corner of his eye, and whirled around to see an unarmed man standing in front of him, child in hand. Tears were streaming down his face, matting down the fur under his eyes.
"Find cover somewhere, you fool! Get in a building and out of sight! You wont be harmed if you stay out of the way!" Burz yelled at the man's stupidity. The Khajiit glanced around fearfully and looked Burz in the eyes. He nodded and ran away to hide in a building like Burz instructed. Burz turned back around and continued to run. What a fool! He made his way up a small flight of steps and found himself at the Palace doors. He looked back to see how far his soldiers were. Many of them were nearing the Palace as well. He turned to face the doors again. They would likely be sealed with guards bracing it from the other side.
"FUS-ROH-DAH!" His Thu'um slammed against the doors, blasting it from the frame. He ran inside a large hall, the ceilings high enough for a mammoth to walk under. Guards poured out from small passageways on either side. "FUS-ROH-DAH!" Burz blasted the beasts on their backs, knocking the wind from their lungs. Legion soldiers began to trickle in behind Burz and engaged with the fallen guards. Burz made his way deeper into the hall. He saw two large doors at the end. That must be the throne room. He gathered a few troops and charged at the doors.
"FUS-ROH-DAH!" He let out a shout to weaken the doors. These would be thick and would fall to one shout. His body met with the sturdy wood. It jolted his senses for a second as pain from the impact shot across his body. He and his fellow Legionaries pushed against the blockade. He called for them to get back. "FUS-ROH-DAH!" He shouted again. The doors buckled, and then men rammed it again. This time the doors collapsed under their effort. Burz picked himself up off the ground as Khajiit soldiers surrounded him and his men. He grabbed for his hammer and swung mightily. He knocked 2 soldiers to their backs. He bashed in one of their skulls, the blood staining the marble floor.
He looked up from his conquest and caught a glimpse of the Mane. He looked like a large mountain lion, with a gigantic mane on his head. It was all different colors, and was braided all together. It was as long as a dragons tail, and was curled up at the side of his throne. The Mane had more hair than body. He did not move as the Legion soldiers approached him. He just sat, staring.
"I am Legate Burz gro Ka. I am from the Imperial Legion. We demand that you relinquish rule of this land and it's people over to us. Surrender!" Burz shouted, his voice was loud and commanding. His father would be proud.
"You will have to kill me." The cat spoke, his voice was softer than Burz expected. It took him by surprise how calm the Mane was. His eyes were narrow as he looked at the soldiers before him. One of them men made a move towards the Mane, but Burz stopped him. Some thing did not feel right. The Mane's eyes widened a little, and his gave centered on Burz.
"If we kill you, another Mane will simply take your place, correct?" Burz asked.
"There is no next of kin in my line," The Mane muttered. "It would die with me..."
"There would be some way of replacing you. We will take you into custody, and assume leadership starting immediately." Burz said, his eyes were narrow. He felt very uneasy. Just then a soldier ran up behind him.
"Sir! SIR! Legate gro Ka! This is not the Mane! We found a civilian and his child hiding in a building not far from here! He told us they moved the Mane to Torval. The Khajiit plan to move him to Valenwood tomorrow!" The soldier spit out. His breath was heavy from the run. The Mane stand in snarled and leaped from the throne. Burz spun around and smashed his hammer into his jaw, breaking it. The Khajiit fell to the ground with a wimper.
"Put him into custody," Burz turned to the young messenger, "Gather the troops. We move for Torval within the hour. We must catch the Mane before he makes it to Valenwood!" He barked at the soldier. They couldn't let the Khajiit leader flee the province with the rest of the army caught up in the north. They would need the full army to attack Valenwood. Burz sheathed his hammer and sat in the vacant throne. He needed a rest for the next battle.