March of the Dead
Felwinter pushed his way through the crowd, letting Gregor take his arm back as they moved further and further away from the Earth Stone. Many were making for buildings; their homes, the tavern, the temple. Anything that appeared to have a sturdy door to hold out against…whatever it was that had come from them.
Arms darting out, Felwinter grabbed a hold of Glover before he could get past. The blacksmith ceased his struggling as soon as they locked eyes. "What is this, Glover? What's happening?"
"The Spawn. They're attacking again." He grabbed Felwinter's arm in turn and shouted to be heard over the commotion, "Listen to me, you need to get inside!"
"The Spawn? Spawn of what?" But Glover forced his way out of Felwinter's grip. "Glover!"
"Get inside, Felwinter!" He yelled while backing away, "Quickly!"
Felwinter watched him disappear into his home before turning back to the eastern gate. The way was clearing out. The people were well-practiced in their panic. Spawned by what? Or who? If this "true Dragonborn" has anything to do with it, he'd find out. Either way, these people needed help.
Magic built up in his marked arm once again and this time, it spread across the whole of his body, clothing him in soft blue light. When the magic dispelled, bright light had been replaced by deep black armor; solid greaves, a thick, heavy breastplate and gauntlets, the dark fingers filed down to wicked claws. "'Bout time I got to kill something." Felwinter started ahead. "Follow closely," he ordered.
It wasn't until he was almost in the midst of the chaos closest to the gate that Felwinter got any sort of look at the town's assailants. Short, rail-thin creatures, seemingly made of packed-together stone and covered in a thin, dirty white layer of snow or ash. They held old, crude weapons that glowed a dim, ember-warm shade of red. The air reeked of smoke, burning flesh and magic.
Ungainly, he thought when he took in their fighting. Fire users with weapons but unskilled.
His observations were cut when one of them broke through the wall of Redoran guardsmen, shambling its way through the opening and making a mad dash for anyone nearby that it could sink its blade into.
They didn't think. Otherwise, they might have chosen someone else.
Jordis was quick, moving to put herself between her thane and the charging monster. Felwinter proved quicker, not giving her a chance. His arm shot out, stopping the Spawn in its tracks with a large hand wrapped around its thin neck.
It was hot to the touch and flailed wildly in his grip. The thing had only red, glowing embers for eyes and with it closer, Felwinter could feel the magic coursing through its entire being. If only he had time to study them.
More were beginning to push through the weakened shield wall the guards had formed. "Jordis!" Felwinter called, pulling his magic from deep within. Cold burst forth from its arm and locked the Spawn in a thin sheet of ice. Ice that was melting as quickly as it was forming. Darting forward again, Jordis brought her blade across the creature's neck, sending its head flying off into the distance. The rest of it crumbled in Felwinter's hand, falling into a pile of dust and ash, soaking from melted ice water.
Zazikel appeared in his now free hand while a violet disc of magic manifested on the gauntlet of the other. "Plug the breach!" Felwinter ordered, running forward. He rammed into the wall of Spawn, Gregor and Jordis pushing their way into the crowd of guards along with him. Felwinter took note of other guardsmen, ahead of the rest of them, fighting smaller groups of Spawn while the main force concentrated on the entrance. Still, they remained close enough that if Felwinter attempted to Shout the wall of Spawn apart, they'd be caught in the blast. Instead, Felwinter yelled out, "On me! On me! Heads down!"
The heads of several guardsmen swiveled towards him, to the stranger demanding their attention and giving orders. But only for half-seconds before they obeyed. Weakening stances widened, various shoulders hunched and squared and heads dropped below upright shields.
"Now push!"
The warriors heaved a collective groan. The load against Felwinter's shield lightened just slightly as the guards pushed at his command. He gave it again, "Push!"
The Spawn kept railing against their advance, bodily throwing themselves into the shields of the Redoran guards. Felwinter ordered once more. "Push!"
Another collective heave, louder and more forceful. The mass of Spawn slid backwards. Some stumbled and fell backwards, crushed beneath the heels of both their allies and opponents. Not enough; not enough for the Felwinter and the guards to break through their ranks and split the main force.
Zazikel disappeared in a shimmer. Weapon hand free, Felwinter now had both to put behind his shield of hard magical light. "Jordis! Gregor! Follow my lead!" Felwinter's throat was already going hoarse. "Protect the sides! Move forward and protect the sides!"
It made little sense, he knew that. And in the thick of things, maybe it was too much to ask that they try and understand. But if this worked, if they made it work, they could just all very well live to fight another day. Maybe then, Felwinter would take the time to explain himself better.
"FUS!"
A small wave of force but enough to send several Spawn sliding back and the less balanced falling over. Felwinter pushed with every bit of strength he had through the weakening wall and Jordis and Gregor did as he commanded and pushed along with him. Gods be praised, the rest of the Redoran guard had figured it out. Felwinter Shouted again, immediately pressed against the stumbling Spawn and the guards turned as he did, protecting their sides and flanks as the monsters attempted to push and claw their way through.
Shout, then heave. Shout, then heave. Little by little until the Spawn truly began to give way and Felwinter could see the land past them. Those still fighting on the other side took notice of their advance. Some broke ended their engagements as quickly as they could, others simply broke them off in an attempt to get out of the way.
As soon as the way was clear, as soon as he was sure no one would be caught up, Felwinter dropped his arms and finally let loose.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The wall of Spawn was blown to pieces and the pieces were sent soaring; some so high, they cast shadows over the rest. Heaves and yells became cheers and roars as the shield wall broke apart and moved forward, pushing their newly found offensive. Jordis and Gregor stayed behind with Felwinter, looking to him for guidance.
A simple jerk of his head was their leave. The two Nords turned back around and charged into the fray, with Felwinter right on their heels. Shield raised, Jordis rammed herself into a Spawn attempting to attack one of the Dunmer warriors from behind. The thing was lifted bodily off the ground and landed on its back, not even given a moment to react before the Dunmer's blade pushed through its face and out the back of its head. Gregor, for the most part, fought alone and unlike in the hours since their arrival, he seemed to be more in his element than ever before, disarming a Spawn with a swing of his blade, too smooth to be over-practiced but too fine of form to be simple instinct. The thing charged him anyway and met only the solid wall of his shield right before meeting the cold steel of his sword, thrust over the top of his defenses and into the creature's throat.
Felwinter did as he always did, going wherever he could hit something, cut something down or blow something to pieces. Despite being creatures of fire or maybe due to it, the Spawn showed no weakness against ice. Any attempt to freeze them in place, be it with magic or Shouts, did little to even slow them. Fire was less than useless, not even worth attempting. Lightning served just fine, even seemed to stun and paralyze somewhat and Felwinter was all too happy to throw as much as he could their way.
Bit by bit, the number of Spawn dwindled. Some broke off on their own accord, either in an attempt to flee or to move back into a more advantageous position. Either way, Felwinter chased them down, either running his blade through their backs or blowing the center mass apart with bursts of shock.
Knee into the back of one, with his blade following, Felwinter looked up to see one more Spawn. Bigger than the others and facing away from the rest of them. Its attention was focused on a downed guard. His helmet had been knocked off and his ash and sweat-streaked face was tight with pain, panic and indignation.
Felwinter bounded across the distance before the monster's raised blade could drop. He shoved Zazikel into its knee, doing more to draw its attention than to hinder or harm it. The dropping blade changed directions and Felwinter barely had time to tuck in and avoid the swing. The Spawn's other arm caught him instead, sending him sliding away some distance until he dug his heels into the dry soil and stopped.
The Spawn was completely focused on him now and the downed guard had taken the opportunity to scramble away. The creature ripped Zazikel out from its leg and tossed it far behind over its head. Blade raised high, it charged Felwinter.
Felwinter charged in return, breaking into a hard sprint. Sword arm empty but held up and tense, the other arm bracing it at the bicep; Felwinter ran until he had decided the Spawn was close enough. Magic burst from the markings on his arm. Zazikel, lodged somewhere in the dirt and out of sight, teleported to his waiting hand. The hilt appeared in Felwinter's vice-like grip while its blade found purchase in the Spawn's throat, stopping it in its tracks.
It wasn't in pain, Felwinter noticed as he pushed the blade deeper. It seemed to have frozen more in surprise than anything else. Whatever it was, it recovered quickly. The Spawn let its blade clatter to the ground and brought its hands down. Keeping hold of the blade's hilt, Felwinter darted to the left and then forced himself around towards the creature's back. As he did, the blade twisted with him and when he ripped it out with a shout, the Spawn's neck gave way. It's head rolled down its chest and towards the ground, dissolving into ash on impact. The rest of the Spawn's body fell apart shortly after.
The remaining Spawn had been cleared out, the fight becoming a sweep as soon as they had broken through the main force. Guardsmen sat on the ground, attempting to calm their nerves, patched their wounds, laughed and embraced. Felwinter was glad to have stepped in.
The guard he had saved was on his feet again, looking over his fellows until his eyes landed on Felwinter and the housecarls rejoining him. The Dunmer took several steps forward before stumbling, his words devolving into croaks. Felwinter darted forward, catching the man before he could fall over and hit the ground.
Other guardsmen moved in immediately and almost wordlessly to take him. Hoisting him up, two carried the Dunmer back into Raven Rock but not before leaving Felwinter, Jordis and Gregor their thanks.
"You handled yourself well for your first time," Felwinter told Gregor, summoning a scabbard to his waist and sheathing his sword.
Red-faced from exhaustion, Gregor nearly bowed. "You honor me, Thane." He watched as Felwinter knelt before a pile of ash. "It was a tough fight but I'm sure nothing the two of you hadn't seen before," Gregor chuckled.
"Oh, I've never seen this before, Gregor." Felwinter stuck his hand into the pile of ash, still warm to the touch.
"Neither have I," Jordis echoed. Felwinter looked behind them, back towards the town, where the men were retreating though the public square remained empty.
"The Second Chancellor spoke about trouble. Think this was it?" He asked.
Jordis was already shaking her head. "No, there would be no reason to keep this a secret from us."
"But it is the kind of thing you warn-" Footsteps interrupted them. A Dunmer in dust-caked bonemold armor slowed his bounding to a halt. Then seemingly remembering his manners, bowed.
"Captain Veleth requests your presence in the infirmary," he huffed, "He wishes to thank you for the assistance you lent today. For our lives as well as his own."
"Was he the Dunmer who fainted?"
"Yes. Exhaustion and injuries though he is awake now. If you'd follow me?" He gestured back towards the town. Felwinter nodded and did as bade.
"My lords. My lady." Veleth stood and held out his hand, taking Felwinter's, Jordis' and Gregor's in quick succession. He was short-haired, lean and as tall as Felwinter himself. He looked strong enough, even when wrapped in bandages. "The valor you showed today was incredible. My men are already speaking about it and toasting to your health."
"There are people toasting and I wasn't invited?"
Veleth smiled. "My friend, you most likely won't have to buy your own drinks for the rest of the week."
Felwinter hummed and smiled. He unhooked his blade from his belt and leaned it against the wall, by a chair within which he sat down. Jordis and Gregor took it as their cue to do the same and when Felwinter gestured to the cot, Veleth lowered himself to sit, visibly relieved. Only then did Felwinter speak again. "Can you tell me about them? Your blacksmith called them 'Spawn'. He wasn't interested in explaining more, what with the running for his life."
"Ash Spawn. Began appearing after Baar Dau angered Red Mountain, early in the era," Veleth explained, "One of our Elders believe them to be reanimated remains of our dead."
"You cremate your dead, don't you?" Felwinter had never heard of reviving corpses from ash, except in the case of ghosts and shades. Dawnbreaker's own enchantment reduced dead to ash specifically to prevent them from being called back a second time.
"Of course. Always have. But some have appeared in our ancestral tombs, so I am inclined to believe him."
"I used ice while fighting them," Felwinter said, "It did little."
"Their fire is hotter than normal." Veleth's bandaged hand went to his bandaged side. "Gods know I've learned that the hard way more than once. Ice has little effect, fire has none. Less, I would even wager but we've had little time to test that."
"If I may ask…" Gregor quickly looked to Felwinter, who nodded, "Are attacks always this bad?"
"They weren't. Then they were." Veleth turned to stare out of a window, aimed at the front gate. Guards were beginning to resume normal rotations. "Before they were unorganized. The attacks were more frequent but weak. About a month ago, that changed. They started arriving less often but in force, moving and behaving like a proper unit. It was unexpected and effective. Now it is expected...and still effective. In the last four attacks, I have lost seven men. That is more than in the preceding ten combined. Both my men and I have all but come to expect that if they arrive and we meet them, some of us would not be returning. When that Spawn berserker had me on the ground, I thought it would be me."
"How many did you lose this time?" Felwinter asked.
Veleth smiled. "None, my friend. None. And that is thanks to the three of you."
"I'll be honest, I've never heard of such a threat." One of Felwinter's clawed fingers began to tap against the armor around his leg. "I've spent some time in the Gray Quarter of Windhelm." Veleth's smile thinned just slightly. He had heard of it. Unsurprising, the place was infamous now. "More now that Ulfric is dead and my friend, the new Jarl, wants my help in renovations and expansion."
Veleth's expression lightened again. "Then you've been a friend to my people in more ways than one. But as for why you might not have heard of them, it is mainly us that they plague. Especially in recent times, though the Skaal have reported troubles."
"Does it have anything to do with the Earth Stone?"
Veleth's smile disappeared completely. Felwinter's finger stops moving. In another room, connected by a door left ajar, sounds of movement stop for too long to be a coincidence and then continues.
"This started long before the Earth Stone. But it did indeed get worse around the same time that...thing started compelling our people." Veleth's voice had gone quiet but bridled with a kind of anger.
Felwinter, however, felt otherwise. He got to his feet. "Then please, allow me to find out more. If you have any information, any leads, I'd be glad to look into them for you."
The captain's eyes flit back and forth between the three of them. "You've done enough for us, friend. More than enough. I can't ask you to do more."
"But you're not asking that I do this. I'm asking for your leave to do this."
The Dunmer let out a long and weary sigh. "I was following the lead when they attacked." He gestures to his side. "Caught us off guard."
Felwinter opened his hand behind him. The sword and scabbard flew from the wall into his palm. "Where?"
"Attius Farms. South of here."
Legs severed and useless, flat on the ground, the last of the Ash Spawn used its hands to crawl inch by inch towards its weapon, knocked out of its hand. Its attempt was doomed to end in failure when heavy, booted footsteps came up behind it. One of those feet lifted, pinning its skull into the dirt and then slowly pressing downwards until it was nothing more than a pile of ash, already scattering to the wind.
"A good sign," Jordis said, sheathing her sword while Felwinter knocked caked ash and dirt from his boots. "This place was left defended."
"Barely," Felwinter muttered. Jordis began to walk about the ruined farm, stepping around the piles of former Spawn until a particular one captured her attention.
"Two fights in one day." He bumped his shoulder into Gregor's. "You keeping up?"
"Aye, thane. I think I am." It was the truth. He was getting into the stride of things. "Though I still remember that you assured me things would not get crazy, thane."
"That I did."
"And less than an hour later, we were fighting undead fire monsters." He gave a smile. "I admit to some confusion."
"I promised things wouldn't get crazy. I never promised your standards for 'crazy' wouldn't change." Gregor laughed at that. "Take heart, friend. You'll be slaying dragons in no time."
"I….huh?"
"Thane."
Felwinter and Gregor turned to find Jordis approaching them. In her hand was a piece of paper, which she held out. "Found this on one of the Spawn. It's writing."
The Dragonborn's brow furrowed. "These things can write too?" He took the paper and opened it, his eyes darting back and forth across the lines of text.
"Ink's dry but the paper's undamaged," she said, "That suggests it was recent. None of these corpses died with it."
His furrowed brow lifted once he got to the bottom. Then he folded the letter. "We need to get back to Raven Rock. Now."
"There was a name at the end." Jordis moved to follow when Felwinter began walking. "Falx."
"Falx Carius. An Imperial general of the Legion, garrisoned on Solstheim."
"So you know the name," Jordis confirmed, "Have you met him before? While working with General Tullius?"
"No, I haven't. And neither has Tullius."
"How do you know this?"
"Because Falx Carius has been dead for two hundred years."