They were nearly frozen. They were exhausted. They had never found a decent spot to camp for the evening, instead stopping only to strike a fire and stay warm while they advanced.

And yet, Larian was surprised that she and Galar were the first to reach Mount Anthor. Was Ulfric not taking the matter seriously? Was he just delayed for whatever reason? Gods' sakes, they were the ones that had been beset by not just one, but several vampires over the course of their rush to Mount Anthor! They were the ones who had been ambushed by a werewolf! How was it just the two of them had reached Mount Anthor so much sooner?!

She forced the disdainful thoughts down and instead focused on the column of light. Up close, it was... to call it massive wasn't doing it justice. It had appeared as a calm and steady beam from afar, but up close, the column's outermost edges seemed to rage. Light arced off the column's surface randomly and rapidly, but never far enough to actually strike anyone. At a distance, the light had appeared white, but up close, it seemed more like an extremely bright yellow, but yellow nonetheless. While the mountaintop was traditionally cold, the column of light, even from several hundred yards away, provided warmth. Getting too close had made Larian almost pass out once, and she was the one in light armor. Galar didn't even dare.

Their tired gazes shifted to the column of light far to the southwest, from Falkreath. While Galar remained focused on it, however, Larian turned her gaze toward Labyrinthian - and the third column of light that had appeared but a few hours after the second. No others had appeared since. Larian deemed it same to assume these columns of light were the only ones that would appear.

The question remained, though... why? What was their purpose?

"I don't like this," Galar said quietly. His sudden voice made Larian jump, but she looked at him nonetheless. "So far, these lights are just... here. What's Derrick up to...?"

"That's the hundred million septim question," Larian sighed. "If you can answer it correctly, split your winnings with me, would you?" He chuckled lightly at her words, and that brought a smile to her own lips.

"Only if you move in with me," he replied.

"Roommates it is, then," she said with a wink. His sigh, followed by a laugh, showed that he hadn't considered that option, but found it a good reply nonetheless. Their brief good mood faded over time, though, as the reality of the situation settled in once more. "...This is... nothing like what I read on how to open a gate..." she murmured softly. "So what...?"

Galar, who had been informed of the book in her possession, simply offered a shrug.

A brief movement caught Larian's eye, and her attention was firmly affixed on it before long. Her hand seized the hilt of her runeblade; whoever or whatever it was, she had no doubt it would be hostile toward her, and if it wanted to fight without question, she'd fight. Wary as she was, though, she didn't advance.

As it turned out, she didn't need to. Movement in the distance greeted her eyes again, and this time, it was steady... and approaching.

"Galar," she intoned. "Over there." Once her friend saw the approaching figure, he too had his hands shooting for the twin war axes at his waist, but he, like Larian, didn't draw just yet. As the figure drew closer, she could make out a single distinguishing feature.

A black robe.

Her temper flared instantly, and she was charging at the robed figure rapidly, greatsword drawn. A growl escaped her throat, but built into a roar of pure hatred.

"DERRICK!" she roared furiously. Indeed, once she was close enough, she could see it was indeed his face beneath the hood. She drew the greatsword back, then after a few more rapid steps, planted her feet in place and swung, with all of her might, at the Imperial. "What?!" The blade, swung at his chest, missed as he took a step back. "Have?!" She caught her balance before centrifugal force could send her spinning around again, took another step forward, and delivered a second, far weaker swing aimed at his head; this one, too, was dodged. "You?!" Another step closer, and she swiped the greatsword's sharp edge at his legs; once more, he dodged, but this time, he stumbled a bit. "DONE?!" she all but screamed out, leveling the greatsword so it was parallel to the ground, then thrusting with all her strength, trying to catch the stumbling Imperial in the heart.

"What we were told to do," he replied calmly. His hands came into view when she thrust, and she noticed too late that he chose to simply fall back rather than fight for balance and let her run him through. She soared over him, and her gaze snapped downward - just in time to see him slam his arms upon the ground, push himself up with his arms, and plant his feet in her stomach. The force of the kick, coupled with the speed she'd picked up with the charging thrust, knocked all the wind out of her. She felt his feet leave her stomach for a brief second, then kick into her far harder. The force of the second kick knocked her off-balance, and winded as she was, she couldn't keep herself from falling. Her shoulder broke her fall; a fierce jolt of pain as she landed told her it was not an ideal landing. She heard her greatsword clang noisily behind her, having fallen from her hands. Her arms instantly shot to her stomach, which she clutched at as she fought to regain her breath. "Thank you, by the way," he continued, pushing himself to his feet, "for giving me time alone. I had no doubt in my mind you'd have interfered, and was trying to think of an excuse to get you out of my hair."

She wanted to curse at him, to spit in his face, to do anything... but all she could do was fight for air and try to ignore the pain in her stomach. She was feeling light-headed now, but it was very slowly fading the more she gasped for air. She would recover soon... she just hoped he didn't kill her in the meantime.

"I take it, then, that you know what we've been working toward. Clavicus Vile has a grudge he wishes to settle, you see... and what better way to settle it than to come to Tamriel?" Derrick stood over her now, pressed his foot against her good shoulder, and rolled her onto her back so she was facing the sky. "You've been of great help so far, Larian... you'll be of even greater help before long."

"Not a chance, prick." The voice of Galar was comforting to Larian, but a surprise to Derrick, whose head snapped in the direction of the Stormcloak. The former bandit appeared in Larian's vision, swinging both of his war axes at Derrick in a crossing fashion; the attack forced the Imperial to back away from her, which in turn gave her some relief. She was safe, for now. She was also infinitely glad she hadn't come alone. She had no idea what her situation would be if she had. "Here's what's going to happen, pal," he snarled, readying his axes for a second strike. "I'm gonna take your ugly head off, then I'm gonna throw the rest of you into that gods-damned light and see what happens. At best for you, you burn to death; at worst, your death is even more agonizing than anything I can imagine."

"Ooh, very nice," Derrick said sarcastically. "Yes, so nice, in fact, that I'll just stand here and let you kill me like that. Go on! Take your best swing!"

Every fiber in Larian's being told her that it was suddenly a very bad idea to approach the Imperial mage. She wanted to shout her protest to Galar, but she didn't have the wind to even whisper. Galar, then, charged at him, loosing a fierce war cry that actually made Larian shiver in terror as it traveled through her ears.

The Nords' legendary battlecry, said to invoke fear in even the most stalwart of men... it was the only thing Larian could think of. Despite the fear that gripped her, she managed to look at Galar and watch his advance.

"Pitiful," she heard Derrick mutter. A flash of light blinded her, and she heard Galar cry out. She became quite aware of his voice passing over her, then heard a heavy 'thud', accompanied by an 'oof!'. Once the light faded, she was able to see again.

Galar was on his back, but was already pushing himself upright once more. She noticed with horror that he was unarmed now.

"You're not even worth my time," Derrick said. A sphere of violet energy enveloped his hand, and once Larian realized what he was doing, it was too late; his hand was opened and the sphere erupted outward to no real effect on its own.

The massive oval portal that appeared between herself and Galar, however, was another matter altogether. She heard a heavy footfall that shook the very earth, then heard and felt a second. She heard heavy, almost bestial breathing. Then, she heard a vicious and ruthless howl rip through the air. If Galar's had instilled fear in her, this one seized her entire being with pure, abject terror. Her mind was almost instantly flooded with split-second images of the things she feared most, but were replaced by new ones before she could try to ignore the one preceding it.

"And that is how you terrify an enemy," Derrick said with a chuckle. Larian realized he was standing over her once more, and was bending down toward her. "Now then... come, Larian. You and I have somewhere else to be if Clavicus Vile's going to even have a chance of arriving." She felt his arms slide around her stomach, felt him toss her over his shoulder. She was facing Galar, and four massive feet she did not recognize. She gradually came to realize the feet were receding from her, and that the warmth of the column of light was getting stronger. She wanted to struggle - her subconscious screamed at her to resist and break free - but her conscious mind was gripped with horror as what Derrick had just said to her set in.

He was taking her somewhere, and she had a feeling she would not be returning from wherever it was.


The terrifying roar was not an encouraging sound to the approaching army. As they ascended the small hill that would lead down into the dragon's lair at Mount Anthor, every last individual froze in place. Even Ulfric Stormcloak did not dare take another step forward.

Standing in front of the massive column of light was... Elsera could only liken it to a massive dog, but it was... considerably different. This dog had fangs as long as the tallest Nord, and each of them appeared sharp as razors; she was reasonably sure there were three rows of them, too - which meant if it caught anyone in its jaws, they were instantly dead. Its fur was as black as night; its tail appeared to ripple at the tip. Its paws were massive and tipped with claws that dug deep gouges in the earth as it moved... and that was all she needed to know about how deadly those claws likely were on their own.

Another moment later, Elsera realized why the beast was moving. There was a single figure there, down on their back, backing away from the dread creature.

"For Skyrim!" The terror seemed to have lifted from Ulfric, and he too seemed to realize there was someone far closer to the beast. She also knew that a rallying cry from the High King of Skyrim would have a far greater effect than a cry from anyone else. Sure enough, every other soldier, terrified thought hey seemed, plucked up their courage and followed their High King into the dragon's lair.

"There ain't no way," Mia whispered, making Elsera jump. "They ain't gonna kill that thing, and if they do, there's gonna be a lot of casualties."

"We still have to try," Adalla urged. "If we don't, who knows where it'll go or what it'll do..."

Elsera didn't like it, but the Altmer was right. She took a brief moment to collect her thoughts, take a deep breath, and review her best spells. As she did, she noticed something that froze her heart in her chest for a moment.

Neria had charged with Ulfric's soldiers, and was now doing everything she could to hold the dread beast's attention. She was barely dodging the lunging snaps of its jaws, practically dancing with death each time the beast made a move.

Her hands clenched into fists, and she charged forward. This was a foe none of them had likely ever seen before, and so they had no idea how exactly to kill it... but they were going to try anyway. The only thing filling her mind now was whether to throw fire or ice at it. She chose ice after a split-second, recalling how Runael had once told her about its ability to drain the foe's stamina and slow them down, and stopped charging just long enough to send a pair of sharp bolts of ice soaring at the creature. Grim satisfaction overcame her as the bolts of ice found purchase in the beast's right eye, causing it to howl in agony. That satisfaction faded rapidly, however, when it opened its eye and stared directly at her.

Somehow, the beast had known that of everyone present, she was the one who had cast those spikes into its eye. The realization of that made her freeze in horror. The beast howled once again, causing several of the soldiers surrounding it to back away; many of those who did dropped their weapons and shield to clutch at their heads.

Then the beast charged at her. Each step was inconsiderate of what was beneath it, be it snow, stone... or human. Almost every charging step it took toward Elsera knocked soldiers down; many times, the beast's claws effortlessly sank into those unfortunate enough to be caught in their path. The beast was unfazed by the paltry resistance the soldiers put up against its advance, and was bearing down on Elsera.

"Oy." She felt hands clamp around her shoulders, and was suddenly off her feet. She felt arms slide around her and hold her close to the one who had grabbed her, then felt one arm release her. A few moments later, she was aware of nothing beneath her and her savior. Nothing but a sharp drop that would likely kill them. Just as she began to panic, to question what had driven her savior to such madness, she felt a sudden jarring sensation; the arm still holding her tightened drastically so the Dunmer didn't fall from their hold. She heard heavy footfalls pound the ground overhead, then heard a horrific sound, like something sharp scraping against stone.

Then, she saw the dread beast slide over the ledge, with nothing but the sharp drop below it. As it plummeted, its gaze lingered on Elsera and her savior for a brief moment; she could have sworn the beast shot a look of respect their way before its head left her field of view. Several moments later, the sound of a heavy 'thud' reached their ears, and the very ground trembled with its impact. The beast did not move after that.

It was once the moment had passed that Elsera realized she'd felt the impact. Many questions flitted through her mind, but she looked up to see who her savior was.

"Ya alright?" The unmistakable voice and accent was that of Mia, as were the blue eyes and the long brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail. "Had me scared for a second, there."

"I... how-" Elsera was wondering how in Oblivion Mia had prevented their own fall to death.

"Lotta people like swords or maces," Mia said. "I prefer war axes... for this reason." She gestured up to her extended right arm - and to the ebony war axe that was buried in the side of the ledge. "Damn useful, war axes," Mia finished with a chuckle.

"I... thank you for-" Elsera began. She froze in terror, however, once she felt their bodies shift. Mia looked up at the war axe and cursed in that unfamiliar language.

The war axe slipped free before either of them could state its occurrence. As they fell, Mia tried desperately to sink the weapon into the ground once again, to prevent their own fatal fall. She succeeded a couple of times, but the war axe slipped free again a couple seconds after each time.

Elsera, against her better judgment, looked down - to see the ground approaching rapidly. She heard Mia take a deep breath, then shout something with all the air she could muster.

"Tiid Klo Ul!"


Neria had considered herself quite lucky. The beast, whose attention had been lost, failed to trample her in its charge toward Elsera - and its subsequent death. She knew others were far less fortunate, but could do nothing for them but hope they survived their wounds... particularly those who had been pierced by those lethal-looking claws.

She instead turned her attention toward the man who had been spotted before the beast when they'd first crested the hill. He was slowly climbing to his feet, aided along by Galmar. Ulfric was standing next to him, asking him questions. Neria, unsure of what else to do, approached them both slowly.

"...ppened here?" Ulfric was asking. "Answer me, dammit!"

"L-L-Larian," the Stormcloak gasped out, voice trembling. Once Neria was close enough, she recognized the Stormcloak as Galar, from Helgen. "She-"

"Was here?" Galmar growled out. "Where'd she get to, then?! She can't have gotten far-"

"N-no, you don't-" Galar stammered out.

"We don't what?" Ulfric snapped. "If you dare say 'understand', I will personally make-"

Neria decided not to interfere with the questions, and chose instead to look at the column of light. It was warm, comfortably so. She suspected it would be worse if one got closer. Still, she was determined to try, for the sake of understanding it better.

As she approached, she noticed two things.

First, she was right; approaching the column did indeed intensify the heat it radiated, and despite them being atop a mountain in Skyrim's northern reaches, she was starting to sweat from the heat in the air.

It was the second thing, however, that made her stop and stare.

Laying upon the ground was a greatsword she'd seen once before... in the hands of someone she loved very much, even despite everything that had likely happened, or was likely to happen. She rushed toward it, ignoring the intensifying heat as she did. She heard someone call her name, but ignored them. She needed to be sure it was actually the same blade. She picked it up once she was close enough, then turned and ran back to Ulfric, Galmar and the harried Stormcloak. Ulfric was looking at her with concern, then he looked at the greatsword with curiosity.

"L-look, see?!" Galar was sputtering. "I-I'm not lying! Th-th-that's her sword!"

"It is," Neria said, nodding her agreement. She took a closer look at it now, and knew it was the exact same blade. "This was the blade Larian had in Labyrinthian."

"What was it you said, then?" Ulfric's voice was quiet, and the question directed at Galar.

What Neria heard made her drop the blade in horror.

"D-Derrick... took her inside th-that column of light... h-he's the real threat... Larian... she came to stop him, t-to kill him... b-but... Nine, he kidnapped her!"


A.N. - Do me a favor, if you don't mind. Open YouTube, if your situation permits you to at present. Search 'All Hell Breaks Loose by Immediate Music'. Read the part where Mia saves Elsera while listening to it. You tell me that doesn't fit, and I will call you a LIAR. OPENLY. As openly as replies to reviews/PMs will allow me, anyway. (No, but seriously, I think it fits rather well - maybe not the name of the song, but the song itself.)

I had to do a little research for this one. What sort of creatures serve Vile? Does Vile's realm have a name/preset appearance? Do I have creative liberties?! All I got was 'yellow daedra', and that told me NOTHING. I contemplated turning the massive dog yellow, but thought 'nah, too cute'. I thought about making it Barbas, then remembered 'wait, Derrick summoned it... why should he be allowed to summon part of Clavicus Vile?!' Then I thought about 'spawn of Barbas'. (As for the other two points: no, it doesn't/yes, it does, and 'limited, but yes I do' respectively.)

That last one stuck, so that's what I'm going with. Ulfric, Neria, Elsera and Co. all just fought a 'spawn of Barbas'. Because I'm sure Barbas isn't a sweet-looking and cuddly-looking dog in Clavicus Vile's realm; I'm sure he's much more vicious and terrifying, right? RIGHT? (Please let that be the case, or I'll never take Vile seriously again. Seriously.) So the 'spawn of Barbas' is sort of a microcosm of how I envision Barbas' true form. Sort of. More a similarity than anything.

I almost did have it so Derrick could teleport wherever the fuck he wants, but then he becomes an impossible dude to beat. 'Oh snap, I'm in trouble? BETTER TELEPORT TO SAFETY.' (I hate that 'tactic' anyway; pisses me off so much. YOU HEAR ME ABRA?! I HATE THAT BULLSHIT SO MUCH! GET IN THE FUCKING BALL, STAY IN THE FUCKING BALL, OR SO HELP ME I'LL- oh look, I caught you. Yay! We're gonna be best buddies for- wait, what was I on about again? Oh, right.)

How does one inspire fear in a brave (or foolish) soul? Throw something huge and massive at them, and give it the ability to do what they do far better. As an aside, I didn't capitalize 'battlecry' on purpose. It seems weak to call a common term something... official, like a title. Seriously, can you imagine someone shouting 'Galar, use Battlecry!' How intimidating is that? Now, back in Flames, giving Highborn the 'title' treatment made it seem... well, it fit. Capitalizing Battlecry and calling it a title? Yeah, not so much. Same deal with Adrenaline Rush - except I haven't introduced that just yet, and don't know if I will. Juuust putting that out there. To, you know... um, dry? (Sequel to Eventide confirmed?)

-Spiritslayer