Necrom, the City of the Dead, lay under siege. The white stone of the necropolis' walls blackened by arcane fire rained down from naval siege machines. The sky lay thick with smoke, the orange glow of the evening sun casting long shadows from the city's towers. As fighting between the Dunmer defenders and the Altmeri troops ensued, a blinding white light blistered into being like white hot magnesium, growing as it burned over the east gates to the port. The light dissipated and from the flare now stood three inquisitors backed by an ensemble of ordinators. At the sight of their reinforcements, the defenders cheered from the walls.
Sorvayn looked up at them and then back to the encroaching high elves clad in their golden armour, drawing his blade and holding up his staff. Vaneth drew his greatsword while Sirina unsheathed two long, arcing daggers from their scabbards at the bottom of her back. The ordinators, armoured in darkened gold with face masks and carrying heavy maces forged from ebony, stood ready.
"For Morrowind!" cried Sorvayn and Vaneth in tandem, charging towards the Altmeri lines with Sirina and her ordinator guard following closely behind. They crashed into the high elves, deftly dodging and deflecting blows and gouts of flame while delivering their own. Sirina was incredibly agile and ruthless, her white robes now discarded and showing a lithe body of sleek ebony plates; a black assassin of metal and leather with a golden face that was now horrifically contorted. Her calm and holy demeanor had been replaced by the swift and deadly wrath of the Three. Within seconds, bodies were falling either side of the group. While the inquisitors were some of the best fighters Tamriel had ever seen, the ordinators still had a fearsome reputation. Each warrior could fell at least four of the Dominion's soldiers but he fell himself. Their holy conviction was pure tenacity.
Soon after their onslaught had begun, the Altmer had been beaten back behind the outermost gate that led to the port, giving the defenders a brief reprieve from the fighting. Through the gate, Vaneth could see the Dominion fleet that had been massed against the city. There were too many ships to even fit in the port.
"By Azura, they really were preparing since the last war weren't they?" he shouted to his companions.
The heavy footfall of more troops came from behind them as Redoran troops from the city armed with large tower shields and halberds rushed to the front. The Altmer had been pushed back into the long walkway past the broken gate which had been designed as a bottleneck. It was here that the Redoran troops pushed past the inquisitors and ordinators to form a wall of steel and spikes across the width of the walkway. A mere fifteen men held the line against a force several thousand strong. More Redoran guard with tower shields filled in behind them, replacing any man that fell. They raised their shields above the man in front to give them cover from arrows and spells that rained down on them. The line moved only inches either way, but it was holding for now.
"Any ideas on how to break the siege?" Vaneth asked as Sorvayn and Sirina regrouped with him by the gatehouse of the outerwall.
"We don't have any ships to spare and any that were in the harbour have been torched. Even if we can get through all these soldiers the ships are a problem and they'll keep throwing magic at the city." said Sirina, sheathing her daggers.
"We need to force them into a rout." said Sorvayn holding his chin in thought. "There should be a flagship in that fleet somewhere. If we can get onboard and get rid of their commander…"
"It'll help but it won't automatically mean a rout" said Sirina.
"No, but it's a start." smirked Sorvayn. "Sirina, if you and your ordinators can help beat back the army here, me and Vaneth will go around through the cemetery to the west and we'll swim up to the ships ourselves."
"Fine, just don't drown." she said coldly before marching off with her guard to the front.
"You know I can't swim with all this armour right?" said Vaneth as they walked into the city.
"Then stay on the shore. If I were them right now I'd be trying to land somewhere else to push on another side now that the main attack has been halted."
Necrom had been badly damaged in its easternmost districts, but through the centre and towards the west there had been no trouble at all. Sorvayn and Vaneth quickly made their way to the western gate and out into the Necrom cemetery, a great plain littered with crypt entrances and ancient mausoleums where an incredible number of Dunmer dead had been interred. As they walked through the cemetery, the sounds of fighting dimmed save the odd impact of magic against the city walls.
"If only Kelran were here, he'd have a field day with the amount of spirits that lie in this place." said Vaneth.
"That would certainly be something to see." murmured Sorvayn. It was then that Sorvayn wondered where exactly Kelran was right now. The Great Houses had placed their hopes mainly on him finding the Soul of Trinimac, and it seems that everyone was woefully unprepared for what the Aldmeri Dominion had in store for both Morrowind and the Empire.
"I hope he's alright, I didn't get a chance to see him before he left." said Vaneth.
Sorvayn remained silent and simply nodded. They had travelled for around ten minutes when Sorvayn suddenly felt uneasy.
"Hold it, Vaneth. We're not alone." he ordered, drawing his sword and holding his staff aloft. Vaneth brought his greatsword down from its resting place on his shoulder and readied himself for combat.
Ahead of them over the crest of the barrow mound, several figures of white-gold armour approached them. They were high elves wielding various different weapons and completely helmeted.
"Thalmor paladins. Be careful."
The lead paladin, carrying a longsword and shield, lifted the visor of his helmet, revealing a face that was a prime example of elven grace and elegance.
"Very astute, inquisitor, but I am afraid that your blasphemous worship of Daedra will not save you from the holy flames of Auri-El. Prepare yourself for reckoning, heretic."
The paladins, five in total, lined themselves ahead of the inquisitors with their commander in the centre. Vaneth swung his blade round in the moist earth, carving a quick circular sigil in the ground. Once complete, purple tendrils of arcane light snapped to his body and quickly wrapped around him, forming an ethereal armour. At the same time, Sorvayn swiftly cast an alteration spell that coated his robes in a translucent sea green glow, adding a resistance to damage of all kinds. He ran forward, batting aside a firebolt with his staff which slammed into the dirt behind him. Vaneth lunged forth with great speed, swinging his sword in a wide arc. As the ebony cut through the air, more purple tendrils of magical light stretched across the blade and stabbed towards the rightmost paladin. Within a second, the tendrils had latched onto the paladin's shield and yanked it forward, pulling him out of line and into meeting Vaneth head on. His greatsword clove through the paladin's neck and straight into the centre of his chest with ease, casting him into the mud with the same movement. Sorvayn's target pushed to meet him with his halberd, keeping him at a distance while another paladin moved to his side with a longsword.
Sidestepping the halberd just as the paladin stabbed it forward, a channel of ice burst from the inquisitor's staff, encasing the weapon and the wielder's arm within a thin layer. The Altmer screamed in pain as Sorvayn turned to the paladin's companion, parrying strikes with his sword. While the halberdier struggled to free his arm, the swordsman oppressed Sorvayn with increasingly aggressive attacks, each faster than the last. The Dunmer struggled to keep up with his defence, but while skilled with a blade it was not his forte. The high elf, moving unnaturally quick in his gleaming armour, kicked low and knocked Sorvayn to one knee before slamming his blade on Sorvayn's sword, clearing it from his grasp. In sheer desperation he grabbed his staff in both hands and held it up across him as the Altmer swung down with a two-handed strike. Sorvayn's staff was no match for the mastercraft of the high elven smiths. As the paladin's sword broke through the mahogany, Vaneth hurled his blade towards him, impaling the paladin with the greatsword. With a splutter of blood under his helmet, the paladin fell to the ground.
Now that Vaneth was unarmed, the lead paladin quickly advanced on him, slashing left and right recklessly with his greatsword, but the inquisitor was too adept at avoiding each swipe for any to connect. Sorvayn picked up his sword from the dirt and turned to the halberdier who still pulled at his own arm in an attempt to break free from the ice. Sorvayn let loose an arc of lightning at the last unoccupied paladin, bright forks of energy spanning the distance between him and the paladin's armour. Against the gold plate, the light it cast was blinding, but Sorvayn kept it up as the halberdier watched in horror. The paladin endeavoured to push to the inquisitor but the magic was too much. Lightning continued to pour into him, sometimes cascading off the plate and striking the ground. Gradually the plate darkened, smoke rising from between the plates as the paladin convulsed in excruciating agony. A putrid stench made itself known as the paladin cooked inside his defence, but Sorvayn engulfed him in power until at last he was still. Satisfied, he looked down at the halberdier who had since become a terrified mess.
"You get it lucky." he said moments before kicking the frozen arm, still attached to the haft of the halberd. Hot blood poured forth from the halberdier's arm but before he had much chance to scream, Sorvayn slashed his sword across the elf's throat and he simply fell down into a bloodied puddle.
"Die, Dunmer filth!" cried the lead paladin in frustration towards Vaneth, whom had maintained good distance from the paladin's greatsword for what felt like forever. Both were tiring at the continued and aggressive action. Just before the lead paladin could swing again, Sorvayn hurled a lance of ice straight at him from behind which embedded itself with the paladin's left shoulder. The impact pushed him forward into the mud and Vaneth used the opportunity to escape and reclaim his sword, yanking it from the dead paladin next to Sorvayn.
"These paladins aren't as bad as the last lot I fought." said Sorvayn. Vaneth nodded while panting for breath.
"Yeah you're telling me."
Standing side by side, they readied themselves as the paladin hauled himself back up with his greatsword as a support. He threw off his helmet, letting loose knotted platinum hair that stuck to his sweat covered brow.
"By the strength of Trinimac, the power of Magnus and the grace of Auri-El, by all the gods… I, will bring an end to you! The Thalmor will not be beaten!" he roared, thrusting his sword with both hands towards the sky. Divine light poured over him, breaking the clouds above.
"We can take him together." said Sorvayn to Vaneth. He nodded.
"We have to."
Measuring his breaths, Vaneth calmed his body and levelled his black sword towards his opponent so expertly that it was perfectly still. Beside him, Sorvayn planted his sword and staff into the ground either side of him and raised his hands. Both weapons shimmered with arcane power as his hands physically reflected the elements they held, his right burning down to a skeletal claw wreathed in flame, the left a crystalline gauntlet with an aura of hoarfrost.
"The two of you are impressive to behold indeed," called the paladin, "but you have yet to see the wrath of Auri-El. Then you will kneel."
At that, the paladin charged with his blade raised. Heavenly wings of light carried him across the darkened plain, a beacon of holiness in a place of death. Vaneth moved to meet the charge with a physically defying speed only seen by Dunmeri blademasters and their Akaviri counterparts. Vaneth's sword met the paladin's, a clash of darkness and light, each strike between them summoning forth purple and golden sparks. Around them, Sorvayn was teleporting in and out of view, bolts of flame and lances of ice coming at the paladin. However arrogant the paladin was, his god was clearly listening and saw fit to bestow his blessing. The paladin moved with an elegance and grace that almost mimicked Vaneth's fighting style. More than that, Vaneth was already on the back foot as the paladin was also left-handed. Whilst usually a small difference, in swordplay this fact was only to the paladin's advantage.
Vaneth parried a slash to his midsection and countered, twisting the paladin's blade aside before launching forward with a pirouette and a lunge, using his reach with his sword. The paladin was ready for it, quickly sidestepping the ebony sword and leaping with his weapon in both hands. Vaneth pulled back in his crouch, bracing the back of his sword across the length of his body and across his left arm, ready to put the weight of the paladin's blow on his core. A bolt of orange flame blasted against the paladin's armour yet it was as if he hadn't even felt it. The paladin's strike landed with incredible force, the ringing of sword on sword echoing throughout the whole cemetery. The impact was too much for Vaneth, and he was thrown into the ground. The paladin's blade came down again for the killing blow, the elf's eyes were ablaze with golden light. Vaneth felt a sudden rush of movement, heard another ring of blades and then opened his eyes.
Above him stood Sorvayn, both hands, fire and ice, gripping the heavenly sword. He struggled against the force of the paladin, screaming out in agony as the holy metal bit into his elemental claws.
"Vaneth!" he cried, looking over his shoulder, "Move!"
With that the paladin bolstered his push and twisted his sword around, carving into Sorvayn's hands briefly before batting him aside with a knee. The paladin then swung his greatsword around his head before arcing it at Vaneth, who was getting up and lunging at him again. To Sorvayn, it seemed like the swordsmen had both missed each other. So much was the speed that even his trained and experienced eyes could not determine whom was the victor. He kept looking between the two and watched as the paladin turned around, his back straightened. He moved back towards Vaneth but before he could take two steps he collapsed face-down into the mud, his sword falling beside him. Blood pooled around the paladin as his life-force faltered and ultimately, faded.
He turned to his friend and immediately rushed over as the inquisitor's legs buckled.
"No! No, no, no, no…" said Sorvayn, grabbing Vaneth as he fell backwards into his, though partially propped up by his greatsword that was now halfway buried into the earth.
"Don't worry, my friend." he groaned. "It's just a scratch."
Sorvayn moved Vaneth's hand away from his side and dark liquid oozed out of the deep wound placed just between two plates of ebony.
"It would seem we were as good as each other, eh?" Vaneth coughed.
"Quiet yourself, he's dead and you're not. I'd say you're the better swordsman."
"There's time yet…"
"No! You're not going to die today." yelled Sorvayn.
He examined the wound more closely, his hands having returned to their usual flesh. Blood continued to pour out of him and Sorvayn could feel his life ebbing away with it. He took a deep breath and cracked his knuckles.
"What are you doing…?" asked Vaneth with a sudden fear.
"Something Kelran showed me. This...will hurt."
Flames erupted along Sorvayn's arm from his torso, ending with a hand of molten rock. Before Vaneth had time to struggle out of his grip, he thrust his hand into the wound. Boiling blood burst out of the wound in a cloud of crimson vapour. Vaneth's body convulsed with unimaginable pain for a couple of seconds before the Dunmer passed out, his cries of pure excruciating agony silenced. Removing his hand and extinguishing his magic, Sorvayn looked it over again. It had been successfully cauterised and he was confident that the young dark elf would live. He was remarkably strong of both mind and body for his age.
Vaneth slumped against Sorvayn while he carried his unconscious body on his shoulders, his free hand dragging his greatsword through the dirt. He placed him down behind a light rock formation on a small hill that was next to the slope that ran down to the water's edge. From here, Vaneth would have a view of the entire Thalmor fleet that was bearing down on Necrom when he awoke. Sorvayn looked down at his companion and then to the fleet set backdrop of the white stone city on fire. He sighed deeply and planted his staff in the dirt beside Vaneth. With a whisper of a small incantation, an arcane dome surrounded the staff with Vaneth within its boundaries, it's surface refracting the light like a prism.
"Be safe, Vaneth. I pray to Azura to see us both through this night." he said.
He looked at Vaneth's unmoving face and smiled beneath his bronze mask. He quickly made sure that everything had been properly secured to his person before cautiously stepping forward towards the fleet, leaving the path down to the water behind him and moving instead towards the cliff's edge. Walking out as far as he could, he leapt to the depths below. The water felt cold as he slid beneath its surface with hardly a sound. He moved quickly and quietly, using alteration magic to prolong his breath.
The Altmeri ships were similar in size to Imperial ships, except they were composed with a much more graceful and elegant craft. Black and golden sails flapping in the wind, golden eagle figureheads glinting in the sun at the prow of every vessel. Thalmor wizards conjured spells together before flinging them towards the walls of Necrom, following the strikes of the ship-mounted ballistae. The sounds of such impacts rumbled through the water and to Sorvayn's ears. He could hear muffled shouts and the faint ringing of blades, but he did not listen, for his senses were focused upon reaching the flagship.
After several minutes of being submerged and swimming underneath several ships, he felt that he had reached his mark. He looked up through the water and the refracted rays of light at one of the largest ships he had seen in at least a hundred years. There was no mistaking that this had to be the lead ship for the Altmeri fleet. Sorvayn fed a slither of his power into his hands and the ends of his fingers became encased in ice, sharpening at the ends like icicles. Reaching up, he clawed into the side of the ship and pulled himself out of the water to then reach up with the other hand. Climbing up with incredible care as to not be seen either by anyone on the deck or by other ships, he measured his movements as he shimmied around to the aft of the ship. With all minds focused on the siege of Necrom, he should be safe enough coming up from behind. Within a minute or so, Sorvayn was hauling himself over the edge and onto the deck of the Thalmor flagship. The inquisitor crouched low behind a set of barrels and quickly scanned around. The deck was large and mostly taken up by four masts and two ballistae. He spied the helmsman by the wheel, several Altmeri soldiers manning the ballistae and at the fore of the ship stood a slim Altmer in blood red plate, simply staring at ongoing siege with his hands behind his back.
Sorvayn slipped out from behind the barrels and grabbed the back of the helmsman's neck, the icicle fingers piercing his neck as he brought the elf down in silence. Just as he was about to move forward, he slunk back down into cover as a thalmor justiciar emerged from the lower deck and marched towards the commander at the prow with his helmet tucked under his arm.
"My lady," he said as bowed, "the paladins under Justice Ulanar have perished within the Necrom cemetery. The flanking attack has failed."
The figure turned to the justiciar, and now Sorvayn could see that it was in fact a woman leading this assault, her jet black hair hanging low and crowned with a tiara of silver with an inlaid ruby at its centre.
"That is unfortunate news. He and his paladins will be remembered for their service. Anything else? Any news from the capital?" she asked while evidently holding back a pang of grief.
"Lady Nerelica informs that Lord Malicin has returned to Alinor with the Soul of Trinimac. The Sapiarchs are already hard at work trying to harness its power."
"Excellent, once they hurry up with that we can end this war in earnest and claim our dominion over all of Tamriel. Thank you, justiciar." she said bowing her head. The justiciar bowed low before returning to the lower decks.
Sorvayn's heart thudded in his chest. He knew the Thalmor were in possession of the Soul, but to have arrived in the Summerset Isles already? They had less time than he and Kelran had even imagined. Once this was done, he would need to find Kelran himself or figure out a way to get a message to him. It was now unlikely that Kelran would get to Alinor before the Soul could be utilised...or weaponised.
Sorvayn took a deep breath. This was a matter for later, right now he had to focus on the battle at hand. He glanced over the deck and saw that the siege crews were still occupied. He cursed under his breath for not having his staff, but then thought of Vaneth. Mustering his courage, he walked out onto the deck. It did not take long for the crew to notice his approach, and they gradually left their ballistae and grabbed swords before running at him. Their charge did not break his step one bit as the inquisitor smote the crew of one siege engine with flame, the other he impaled against the deck of the ship with lances of ice. Sorvayn stopped around ten steps away from the fleet's commander and drew his blade of ebony.
"The Dominion will not take Morrowind, Altmer. As an Inquisitor of Resdayn it is my sole duty to protect this land and purge any and all threats to its people. Even the Soul of Trinimac will not enable you." he spat.
"I respect you, inquisitor. You and your order are formidable fighters and your code is an honourable one." she said proudly, turning to face him. She drew a single longsword from its scabbard at her waist and unclipped the brooch that held her cloak, allowing the crimson fabric to fall onto the deck. Her sword was crimson like her armour save for a silver crossguard and grip. Piercing eyes of green stared down Sorvayn.
"I will give you your fight, inquisitor, but first I would have your name so that should I fall I can tell of your prowess to Trinimac himself. If I prevail then I will ensure that the account of our battle today is not forgotten."
"Inquisitor Sorvayn Marethi, son of Athalan Marethi of House Dres." he said, surprised at the Altmer's approach to the approaching combat.
"Well met, Inquisitor, I am Lady Arinwe Larethosin, daughter of Iterinel Larethosin of Shimmerene." she said, bowing her head. "May the Three watch over you in this duel, Sorvayn."
"May Auri-El's light guide you either forwards unto victory or unto the heavens, Arinwe."
With that, both of them readied themselves into combat stances, each holding their longswords with both hands in front of them. Slowly, they circled with their eyes locked, the sounds of fire and metal upon stone drowned out. Only the wind, the clinking of armour, the creaking of the hull could be heard. Sorvayn's grip on his sword tightened as he summoned forth his power, but the slight movement in Arinwe's eyes towards his hands told him that he had already betrayed his first move, but there was no stopping now.
Sorvayn brought forth the Ancestor's Wrath, an inherent ability to all Dunmer, and flames suddenly curled around his body in a cloak of orange. Sorvayn lunged forward with his sword aimed directly for Arinwe's gut. The Altmer also lunged forwards but to parry the strike instead, turning Sorvayn's blade upwards as he slid beneath where the swords met. He turned around at the end of the slide with his arm outstretched, catching Arinwe in her charge with a cone of frost around her left leg. With some effort, she broke free just in time to parry Sorvayn's strikes as he came back in again. Back and forth, Arinwe and Sorvayn exchanged sword blows and blasts of magic, neither actually managing to score a damaging hit. Ebony and crimson clashing again and again in an equal match of both swordsmanship and magecraft. Sorvayn deflected a strike to his neck, turning the slash to arc above his head while he brought his sword back to just in front of his left shoulder and then stabbed it forth again, reaching far towards Arinwe. The ebony struck true, but not fatally as the black blade cut across the front of her right shoulder and across the top of her chest just below the collar bones. The sword away as it reached the centre of her cuirass and so Sorvayn stepped back before Arinwe could retaliate. She cried out in pain and looked at Sorvayn, then nodded as her right pauldron slid off of her shoulder and clattered to the ground. She cut the strap securing the left pauldron and let that fall as well before turning her body to face him again in a ready position.
"You are very skilled, inquisitor. I have not sustained a wound in the last forty three years of my service to Altmeri throne."
"Unfortunately I receive wounds weekly, so I'm afraid I can't relate."
Sorvayn charged back into the fray but Arinwe was already on the move, sidestepping him and dropping to a knee as she drew her crimson blade in reverse across him, the metal biting into the top of his hip. The movement was so quick that he had no time to avoid it, and so he practically sprinted through the edge of her sword. Sorvayn cried in pain as his run quickly fell to a stumble. He turned to face her as he hobbled with his left hand to his right side but she was already there. In desperation he parried hit after hit one-handed until Arinwe screamed with a warrior's fury and broke his defense. In one swift movement, she kicked Sorvayn's sword from his hand and brought her sword back around, building momentum in her spin and ending with an uppercut.
Sorvayn fell back several feet, spinning mid air and falling onto his chest. Struggling, he raised himself up when his mask fell to the ground in front of him in two pieces, the inside coated in blood. Droplets fell from his face onto the mask and he raised his fingers to his face to feel the wound. They came back coated in blood and shaking as he realised he could not see them on the right side of his face. Then came the agony of his loss and his eye socket seared hot with pain. He heard a cry and instinctively flipped onto his back to see Arinwe leaping through the air towards him with her sword outstretched. Time felt like it was slowing down, the moment of his demise being dragged out for him to notice every last detail. He threw up his arm towards her and closed the only eye he had left.
A heavy clatter of plate hit the deck right next to him. He opened his eye to see his hand still open and raised towards the cerulean sky. Sorvayn held his arm there for a few moments before dropping it and rising from the floor with difficulty. Beside him lay Arinwe, her blood indistinguishable from the colour of her armour, the blade of an ethereal sword burned with purple energy as it lay still embedded in the Altmer's chest.
Sorvayn smiled but was also sorrowful at Arinwe's passing and the blade dissipated. She had proven an incredibly formidable opponent and was deserving of great respect. He closed her emerald eyes before bowing with a fist to his chest while murmuring a quiet prayer to the dead.
