Fort Frostmoth
He didn't see the sun rise whenever it did. It didn't matter, Gregor had already been awake for some time. It was a marvel he was able to keep himself confined to his bed, rather than pacing the grounds or heaving his dinner into the nearest bucket. This wasn't clearing out a bandit fort, going in with superior numbers, arms and armor. The sides had switched; now he had the lesser numbers, a simple sword and shield, a vulnerable human body and he was going against monsters, creatures out of tales meant to frighten children.
What was worse was how alone he felt. Jordis was calm about the entire thing but his thane was without a care in the world, arm hanging off the bed, mouth slightly open, sleeping as if the next day was as simple as a trip to the market. None of them felt how he did. Maybe it should have relieved him but it didn't. He couldn't bring himself to let it.
Gregor rolled out of bed, waiting for his bare feet to adjust to the stone before rising and walking over to the washbasin. He cleaned up as quietly as he could manage, spending just a few extra moments to throw more of the cool water against his face. It didn't help.
His armor was still set off to where he had put it. He starts with the greaves and slowly, maybe more so than normal, he moves up, checking and double-checking every strap, every buckle and every clasp to ensure it would remain in place. He twists one arm, then the other, then at the waist. He brings his knees up again and again, both checking that he can move properly and trying in any small way he could to release the pit digging into his belly.
His blade was all that remained. Gregor lifted it, took hold of the hilt and pulled it out just slightly. A simple thing of steel; he remembered his thane's promise of a better one. Maybe he'd hold the man to it. If Felwinter actually managed what he had said the night before, maybe he wouldn't. For now, it would serve. He sheathed it again and went over from his bed to a quiet corner of the room. Gregor lowered himself to both of his knees and laid the blade across them. He closed his eyes, relaxing his shoulders, unclenching his jaw and breathed in deeply before breathing out just as much so.
And he prayed. For strength to be given to his arms, so that his blade strikes true and his shield never wavers. He prayed for the courage he couldn't muster himself, fortitude so that he may protect those he was charged with protecting, their blessing so that they may all return victorious and if not, that they deem him worthy of the afterlife he craved.
The silence of his breathing was interrupted by the sound of something tumbling to the floor, followed by a curse and a grunt. Gregor turns to find Felwinter pushing himself to his feet after having fallen. Rubbing his back and grumbling his good mornings, the man dragged his feet and waddled over to the washbasin. He tied the strings at the waist of his pants before dipping the hand that had been holding them on his waist into the water. "You praying?" he asked.
Gregor had turned back to the corner. "Nearly done," he answers.
Taking hold of the sides of the barrel, Felwinter dumped his head and after half a minute of bubbling, pulled it out again. "Take your time," he gasped, sputtering and rubbing water from his eyes. "Eight Divines. Lots of things to pray to."
Gregor sighed, "Nine, my thane."
There was a pause. Slight, but it was there. "Nine, huh?"
"Aye. Just like my father and his own."
Gregor knew of the man's loyalties, so his thane's noncommittal hum surprised him somewhat. "We don't have the Nine in High Rock. Just the Eight."
"It angers the Thalmor."
A derisive snort. "I'd start praying to the Nine, if just to piss off the Thalmor. Not like they'd do a damn thing about it."
The humming Gregor had quickly come to associate with magic came out behind him. When he turned again, Felwinter was in full, black, heavy plate armor, stretching in it to make sure he moved properly while wearing it. Gregor removed the blade from his knees and stood, tying it to his side. Felwinter was already striding out of the room. Gregor followed much more slowly, giving the place one last look before reaching in and bringing the door to close.
Breakfast was silent. Few were awake at this time and the anticipation of battle was too much, even for Felwinter and Jordis, for the easy conversation of last night. Still, Gregor noticed, neither looked particularly worried. From the looks Felwinter kept shooting his way, out of the corner of his eye, he must have been radiating it. He hoped to each and every god he wouldn't see fit to remove him from this fight. The shame of it; an Ash Spawn's blade would be preferable.
The meal was small and to the tastes of a man who had never left the Pale before now, rather strange. But it was satisfying, arguably the only thing this morning that has succeeded in calming his nerves. When Felwinter pushed his plate to the center and stood, Gregor knew it was time to go. He led them outside, through the town, past the damage of yesterday and to the gates. There, they could see Captain Veleth waiting with horses at his side. "I guessed it was time," he said in greeting.
"You guessed right."
Veleth patted the flank of one of the horses. "A gift, from the First and Second Councilors, ser. They, and all of Raven Rock, wish you fortune in the battle to come."
"Gregor, Jordis, take your pick. Thank you, Captain," he said, "But we only need the two."
The Mer's brow furrowed. "What will you do for your own mount?"
Felwinter's response was to take in a deep breath and bellow out, "Arvak!"
The humming returned, followed by a snap of cold heat in the air. Only Jordis didn't seem surprised to see what materialized in the air some distance away and came galloping towards them. It was a horse, Gregor was sure, but it was a thing of pure bone and blazing, violet fire in place of skin and sinew. It paid none of them any attention, stopping in its stride right at Felwinter, rubbing the lips it no longer had against the hand he held out.
The Captain's eyebrows remained against his hairline. "Have you met the wizard, Neloth? I think you two would get along."
A saddle appeared in Felwinter's arms, efficiently strapped on. "I have met a Dunmer wizard." He climbed on and properly situated himself. "If it was indeed Neloth, then I doubt that. Highly."
A rare smile drew on Veleth's mouth. "Yes, that is the rumor." He watched the trio mount and settle themselves, then with one last nod, he watched them move off, through the gate and down the path.
Their journey was slow but steady, none of the horses moving faster than a gentle stride. As silent as their meal before, until Felwinter began to speak. "We're getting close so listen up and listen well," he commanded, "The Ash Spawn are a form of undead. They move with purpose so we know someone is reanimating and controlling them, as undead rarely do anything without direction. Necromancy, like the rest of Conjuration magic, creates an aetherial link between the caster..." He tapped his chest, then moved the hand to the fiery horse beneath him, "And the creatures they summon. No link, no creature. That's why it's best for them to overrun the battlefield with their minions. Kill the caster…"
"And there is nothing left binding the summoned to this world," Jordis finished, her eyes on the horizon.
Gregor turned to both of them. "So they'll all just...drop dead? That simple?"
"That's the theory," Felwinter said.
"So we won't be fighting all of the Ash Spawn then. Just enough to get inside and find the caster."
"That is still quite a lot of Ash Spawn," Jordis reminded.
Gregor grit his teeth, silently conceding that point. "The help you mentioned, thane. They will be there?"
"That's right. Veleth didn't give much on the interior so I assume we'll be searching for Carius for a while. If we're lucky, he'll come to meet us first."
They continued down the trail in silence for some time before Gregor began to notice the hard-packed sand beneath their mounts' feet loosening. They were closing in. " When we do find him," Felwinter spoke up again, "Your job will be to keep the Spawn he'll have with him off of me. I'll take Carius alone. I want to incapacitate him without killing him and use his link to trace back to the caster."
"Do you believe it's those cultists?"
Felwinter sighed. "Maybe, Jordis. Could also be who started the cult. Or at least who runs it. Regardless, whatever's in Falx's head is our biggest clue. So we ask...then we take the head." Arvak stopped. Felwinter raised his hand to signal to them to do the same. "Dismount here," he ordered, sliding off. Arvak faded away in a gout of flame almost immediately. When the housecarls had done so, Felwinter took the reins of both horses and moved them to a tree, fastening them to the trunk. He leads them on foot the rest of the way, towards a sandy hill he then has them crest until their target comes into view.
Fort Frostmoth was impressive in both structure and the state of its disrepair. Most of the low towers had crumbled into ruin, with no gateways or palisades for defense. Ash Spawn shambled all across the grounds, much more than any of them had ever seen.
"I know we're not sneaking past," Jordis said, her voice dropped into a whisper, "And I see no point in prolonging the wait. How are we going in?"
"Thane…" Gregor's eyes were on the hills on the other side of the fort, "I don't see your men." He looked over at Felwinter to see him rising to his feet at the top of the hill. "Thane? Reinforcements?"
"You said you trusted me, Gregor." Felwinter's tone had gone low and deep. The long dragonbone sword appeared in his grip in a snap of magic. "Bad time to stop, isn't it?" He pointed the blade towards the crest of another sandy mound. "Move there."
It wasn't a suggestion. It was time. Jordis unstrapped her shield while Gregor drew his blade. Together and keeping low, they moved, Felwinter watching both them and the spawn to ensure they were not noticed while flanking the Spawn.
His next order came soon after and it wasn't with words. Felwinter jabbed the blade down into the sand. With both hands free, strands of lightning began to dance around his frame, the hum of magic going from a sound to something Gregor, Jordis and indeed, every Spawn in the vicinity, could feel through the air.
Felwinter wasted no time. Thick bolts of violet energy crossed the distance between the top of the hill and the ground in the time it took Gregor to blink. They struck at the Spawns' feet, raising a spout of sand. At the height of the spout, they could see severed arms and legs careening through the air.
"Move in!" Felwinter shouted, "Take them!" He ripped the sword from the sand and jumped off the crest, sliding down and bringing his sword up in an arc that took the sword arm of the first Spawn to reach him. He shouldered the dismembered monster, knocking it flat onto its back and bringing his foot down on its head, spraying hot ash and dust across the ground. The purple shield of his other arm appeared just in time for him to turn and stop a blast of flame aimed at his back. He charged through the gout, throwing the shield forward and cracking the creature across the head. Zazikel found its heart before it could recover. Felwinter pushed it deeper and with a heave of muscle, ripped it upwards, slicing the Spawn open from the chest to the crown of its head.
Even more Spawn were coming, clambering out of the ground and seemingly manifesting out of nowhere. Gregor hurriedly cut his way to reach and remain close to his Thane, running a Spawn through when it attempted to flank Jordis. She responded by ripping her blade out of the back of her downed opponent, darting forward and past him and burying her blade again into another Spawn's gaping mouth as it tried to get him from behind.
The three remained close, surrounded, but gave each other the space they needed. More accurately, Felwinter kept close so he could intervene if necessary but far enough away so that he could cast his spells without worry of collateral. With their enemies' numbers, the fight was soon becoming a test of endurance. For every one of the Spawn that were cut down, crushed to dust, sliced in half and blasted into flailing pieces, two more would rush them like madmen and that number only seemed to increase as time passed.
A Spawn's blade, just narrowly avoided, still drew a thin line of red across the small bit of exposed skin on his arm. It was instinct that told Gregor to put up his shield instead of retaliating and the cone of flame that followed the strike made him glad for having listened to it.
A streak of violet flashed before his squinting eyes and then the flames stopped. The Ash Spawn's outstretched arm stayed so as it fell to the ground. Felwinter came flying out of the corner of his eye at a speed that couldn't be described as human. He didn't stop either, throwing Zazikel out in a vicious arc and sending the creature's head spiraling into the air.
Gregor took up his stance again, back to back with his comrades, his chest and shoulders rising and falling heavily. "Thane…" He called, unable to hide his growing exhaustion. "Thane, I'm still trusting you."
The other man was huffing and sweating just as much, only he was smiling. "Right, right. Reinforcements." His eyes turned towards the hills. "Right." He said again.
His weapon disappeared. Felwinter spun around towards the space near one particularly tall mound of sand, kept open as a means of escape should it become necessary. "Wait till I disappear over the top of that hill." He pointed and then twisted around to blow an incoming Spawn clean in half. "Count to ten and then draw the Spawn towards me."
He turned and began to climb, feet kicking up to push himself through the sand. "When you get to the side, throw yourselves out of the center, do you understand?"
Gregor was failing to do so. What sort of reinforcements required this? But the man was already disappearing. Gregor turned back towards the Spawn closing in on them. And the ones near the door. And those still lining the destroyed battlements. Gregor adjusted and readjusted his grip, struggled to keep his breathing even as the gravity of their situation began to bear down on him.
"Five!" Jordis counted, her blade, shield and eyes still facing forward, even as Gregor's disappearing conviction made his shoulders drop and the sword lower. "Four! Three! Two!" The pair twisted at the same time. The Ash Spawn stumbled but predictably gave chase up the hill of sand, clambering over each other to reach them.
The sand loosened underneath Jordis' feet, making her slip to her knee with a yell. Despite his fears, Gregor doubled back, cutting off the arm of the one closest to grabbing her and hauling her to her feet.
"Almost," he heaved out. The hill seemed so much bigger than before. "Almost…"
Gregor twisted and kicked at a Spawn clawing at his heels. Desperation drove his strength and the monster's head and neck went snapping back. Still, he climbed. After what seemed like the entirety of his life, he reached the head. Immediately, he began searching for his thane.
He never saw him. The entirety of his life was flashing too quickly and too vividly before his eyes to notice anything else. Even when taking in the sight before him, his thane's last and most vital command rang through his head, shrill and insurmountably vital.
Jump away.
Gregor bodily threw himself left. Jordis went right. A booming voice shook the world and a thunderous stream of absolute cold lanced through the spot where they had been standing. Waves of frost ripped through the sandy ground and the Spawn along with it, sending frozen bits of undead high into the air and shattering them across the ground.
The dragon at the bottom of the hill threw back its wings and roared, shaking the ground beneath their feet and rattling Gregor down to his very bones. It was a pale, sickly green thing, with small holes in the wings it beat to take off into the air. Gregor pulled his hands from his ears and picked up his dropped blade, watching slack-jawed as a real, true-as-anything dragon rose higher and higher. Sailing far over them and the fort, when it glided over the battlements, blasts of fire flew past and around it. The monster opened its mouth and bathed the stone and its occupants in another skin-tingling stream of ice.
Ash Spawn died by the dozens. Approaching footsteps did not pull Gregor from his trance so Felwinter resorted to grabbing him and hauling him to his feet. "Move! Quickly!" He ordered, shoving the Nord towards the door.
They moved. Only running, ignoring all the Spawn between them and the entrance. The ones that wouldn't be ignored were knocked to the side or blasted down from above. Reaching the door, Felwinter shouldered it open and waved the two of them inside. Gregor only had one more chance to take in everything that had just occurred outside before Felwinter shoved the door close, dimming the sounds of slaughter and leaving their breathing as the loudest things in their ears.
"Anyone hurt? Need healing?" Even before responding, Gregor could feel some semblance of his strength returning. Felwinter pushed off the wall with a grunt, bracing against it when the Dragon passed overhead, making the fort shake. His other hand clapped Gregor on the shoulder. "How was that for reinforcements? To your standards?" He cackled, slapping his shoulder again. "Come on! Carius is waiting."
He started down the cobweb-laden, disrepaired hall and Gregor had to remind his feet to start following. "Thane…who…what was that?!" Gregor instinctively ducked when another roar echoed over their heads, the ceiling showering them in dust.
"A distraction. We should have Carius to ourselves now." Felwinter pushed open a door and peeked before going all the way through.
"I expected something ridiculous," Jordis said, bringing up their rear, "But a warning would have been nice."
"You ruin surprises, this one nearly coughs up his own heart. You people are no fun." Felwinter peeked into another room before moving on. "We can all talk after this. Let's focus on the general for now."
Felwinter pushed his way through another door before pausing and asking himself under his breath, "What am I doing?"
He took in a lungful and Shouted, "LAAS YAH NIR." Felwinter's eyes went wide and unblinking, flitting quickly from door to door and towards every wall, as if searching through them. His head flicked towards the one directly ahead and stopped. His eyes narrowed. "There."
Zazikel reappeared in his hand. Jordis and Gregor readied themselves. Again, Felwinter's dragon roared overhead.
He cautiously approached the door, his magic shield forward, up and illuminating the halls. His housecarls moved to the sides of the door and waited as Felwinter pressed himself against it, ear to the wood.
Then he knocked. Twice. Gregor's shoulders went slack with disbelief. Jordis just rolled her eyes.
Nothing happened. No sound of speech or movement came through as a response. Gregor was readying himself again, preparing to push his way through behind his thane.
Instead, his thane ducked. The top half of the door exploded, showering them in sharp, smoking splinters of wood. The damage stopped just above the very top of Felwinter's head, close enough that the man felt the need to check his hair for any damage. Then, he peeked over.
The man standing on the far side of the large room was clad in heavy, Legion armor that looked as old as the fort itself. Flanking him were two large Ash Spawn, bearing Blades as tall as they were. In the General's own hand was a tall and heavy hammer, its head pointed at the door and smoking.
When General Falx spoke, the most unsettling thing about it was that he could. His eyes were dim red embers like his Spawn and molten fire ran like cracks up and down his face and neck. Falx Carius looked only slightly more human than his soldiers but spoke all the same.
"I attempted to talk." His voice carried through the halls, "I offered peace! But you would not heed my words. Now, heed my warning.
Felwinter pushed open the ruined door and stepped through, his shield up. "And ah, what warning would that be?" He asked.
Falx's grip tightened on the hammer. "Make your peace!" He bellowed, "Make your peace and make it now!"
The Spawn at his back roared and both broke into a mad dash for the trio. Felwinter did the same, bolting straight down towards the shrinking space in between the incoming Ash Spawn. With a yell, Felwinter managed to bodily throw himself through and kick himself back up to his feet.
One of the Spawn turned on him and reached out before stopping just as suddenly. Its head fell down to its chest, taking in the sight of a sword poking through its sternum.
Jordis ripped her blade from its abdomen and jumped back, narrowly avoiding the Spawn's own heavy blade as it turned its attention away from her thane to face her. The other needed no such distraction. It roared at Gregor and Gregor, sweating from the heat and exertion, swallowed, then roared right back.
As soon as Felwinter was close enough, Carius brought the hammer around in an arc that would have knocked Felwinter's arm out of place if he had chosen to block it. Instead, he moved to avoid, quickly bringing his weapon up towards Carius' back. But the corpse was faster than he appeared, spinning around to block the strike with the thick wooden handle and force Felwinter back on his heels. Felwinter moved back just a bit further, putting more distance between the two. He was stronger than he looked too.
When Carius moved to close the space again, jabbing the hammer's head out, Felwinter caught it on the flat end of his blade. It slid roughly off and using the lack of resistance, Felwinter moved closer, bringing the handle of his sword with him and jabbing it forward.
The blow connected and sent Carius staggering. Felwinter watched him as his hands stayed on his nose. He took notice of the fact that Carius still felt pain or more likely, reacted as if he did. It was the most human he had seen any of these Spawn act since arriving in Solstheim. But then Carius lashed out at a pillar with his weapon in anger, taking out a good chunk of the stone and Felwinter had to remind himself it was only an act.
Falx Carius charged forward again and again, Felwinter moved to avoid the impending blow. Carius kept his hammer and arms outstretched, following Felwinter where he had dodged and forcing him to dodge again, giving him no time to breathe. The third return strike came for the side of his head and would have reduced it to bits of meat and bone had Felwinter not ducked underneath it. Even then, he could still feel the wind of it but the move brought him low enough that he could put a palm to Carius' chest and let out a pulsewave of magic. The Imperial went sliding back, crouching down and digging his fingers into the sand to stop.
He righted himself almost immediately and charged again, ever on the offensive. Felwinter hadn't even realized the magic had suddenly built up in the air when Carius was raising his hammer and bringing it down hard. But when he did, every thought in his head ceased to speak save one; move. So he did, spinning away from the path of the hammer's descent. The lightning-laden strike buried itself where Felwinter had just been standing and left a deep crater in the ground, red and smoking.
Keeping it connected to the floor, Carius switched his grip on the handle. Felwinter felt the magic in the air shift again and when Carius took several steps forward and began to drag his hammer behind him, Felwinter could see the line of frost developing on the floor behind it. Carius threw the hammer forward across the stone with a yell. The frost deepened and grew until a fast-moving stream of icy spears crawled across the ground towards his opponent.
In his free hand, Felwinter gathered fire and slammed it against the ground, disrupting whatever attack Carius had cast before it could make contact. He brought up his other hand and called fire again, sending a large wave of it towards Carius, who brought up his hammer and braced. The flames rocked him but flowed around, the head of his hammer, now glowing red-hot, pushed Felwinter's magic away from its target.
Now Felwinter rushed forward, thrusting his sword out and catching the warhammer's handle. Carius twisted with the handle, parrying Felwinter's strike before returning one of his own, only to find it avoided entirely. The back and forth continued, striking and returning, parrying and avoiding, both pressing any little advantage they could find and waiting for the other to make a dire mistake.
It was Felwinter who made it. He underestimated the force of a return strike and chose to parry rather than avoid, so when Carius pressed further into the attack, Zazikel was sent flying across the room, ripped from Felwinter's hand, with little space to run for it or to even call it back.
Felwinter supposed he should've been impressed. Carius was proving himself to be his better at weapons combat, so much so that he found himself abandoning his plans to restrain and subdue the creature. He fell back on his magic, better in it than he ever was with a blade. He sent out another wave of fire, sliding across the ground and just as before, Carius braced with his hammer. The bolt of lightning he sent out next, Carius dodged, the strike cracking stone on the wall behind him.
Felwinter brought back both his hands and began to charge up as much shock magic as he could manage, running forward at the same time. Carius rushed to meet him, hammerhead glowing bright violet and at the ready.
Felwinter could feel the resistance before the two of them ever collided. The magic of the hammer pushed violently against Felwinter's own, like magnets being forced together.
The result of contact was predictable. Lightning burst between them and sent both fighters sailing back through the air, kicking up a cloud of obscuring dust in their wake. Felwinter fell out of sight. Carius slammed back-first into a pillar near the entrance, hard enough to shift it out of place. He shook his head clear and scrambled for his hammer on the ground, staring through the roiling cloud of dust and sand, searching for the Dragonborn.
A yell from behind tore his eyes away. They landed on a burly, shaved-head Nord, slicing at the leg of one of his personal guard. When the guard stumbled, the Nord jumped up and forward with a deep yell, bringing down his blade and burying it in his head.
Carius watched only long enough to see the sword drop limply from his soldier's hand before a roar tore its way from his lips. The sound had the Nord's wide-blown eyes flitting towards him and his shield at the ready for Carius impending charge.
Charge, Carius did, a roar still on his lips and magic filling his weapon. But then the world boomed. Then the world shifted and Carius found himself stopped in his tracks.
Felwinter stood in the space between the two, his eyes wide and his pupils small. The blade that had been knocked from his hand found purchase in Carius' throat and Felwinter only pushed deeper, the tip exiting the other side.
With a sudden yell of his own, Felwinter ripped Zazikel free, tearing a ragged hole. Then, drawing in a chestful of air, the Dragonborn Shouted, "FUS RO DAH!"
Only Carius' hammer went flying. General Carius himself exploded, dissolving into a thick, grey cloud of dust and ash and smoke. The only solid remains, a strange stone, red and pulsating, fell to the ground, tapping once against the floor before dissolving into nothing itself.
The room fell quiet, deafeningly so. As soon as Gregor took in Felwinter's relaxing stance and lowering shoulders, he let out a weak groan, dropping to his flank. His sword and shield were deposited at the sides of him so that he could wipe the sweat away from his eyes with both hands. It was over. It was over.
Jordis was over him with a hand outstretched when his eyes opened again. He took it and accepted her help getting back to his feet. "It gets easier," she told him.
Gregor let out a tired laugh. "Does it? Does it really?"
"Well, no. You just get used to it."
"Fight's done, people. You know the drill." Felwinter was already halfway across the room. "You kill the owner, you keep the stuff. Anything you don't want, put away so we can sell." He reached the other side of the room and began sifting through the rubble, heaving away stone and digging through sand until Carius' hammer revealed itself.
"Alone at last," he muttered, a wild grin growing on his face. Zazikel remained unenchanted and as mundane as a sword crafted from the corpses of dragons and the lifeblood of a god could be. Carius' cudgel coursed with power and now, it could be put to more…creative use. The markings on his arm began to shine. As soon as he had the weapons handle in his grip, they began to move, crawling down his arm and over the hammer. Then they disappeared.
Felwinter brought the heavy thing up as he rose back to his full height, examining the design, admiring the quality. Then he looked at Gregor. "Think fast."
The hammer was tossed up and towards the Nord's head. It never made it half way. In a blink of light, the cudgel disappeared, reappearing in Felwinter's grip, as if he had never thrown it.
"He loves that little trick," Jordis mumbled.
"I do. I do love that little trick." The hammer disappeared again, to where ever any of his things magically went. "Wrap up and meet me outside. I want to see the dragon off."
Gregor rushed to join him, still doubting his eyes, his ears and the shaking of the walls. But as soon as Felwinter pushed his way through the entrance, his doubts were summarily removed. Because there it was, still roaring and flying through the sky. Its massive, horned head turned towards them and for a second, it seemed as if the dragon was beginning to turn. But in a flash of light and crack of thunder, the beast glowed a dim purple and then faded out of sight, its roars just an echo left in their ears.
"His name is Durnehviir," Felwinter explained, beckoning the two of them to follow him back up the path they came from. "He resides in the Soul Cairn. I can call on him when I need him but he can never stay for too long." Felwinter let out that strange Shout from before and again his eyes went wide. "Your horses are still here." He blinked. "That's good. Was worried the dragon scared them off. Arvak!"
Felwinter's fiery steed from before shimmered into view and came trotting forward. "Another resident of the Cairn. Used to have to cast a spell to call him but it seems he's taken enough of a liking to me to come when called." The saddle appeared in Felwinter's arms. "Mount up, people. Drinks are on me."
Jordis untied her own from the tree and climbed up with a grunt. "They're always on you, thane." She directed the horse to turn around.
"Which is very funny because I know I pay all of you enough to pick up the tab at least once. Amazingly, you never do!"
Gregor crowed, "Aye, but it's part of our contract, thane. Room, board, meals-"
"Board and meals are the same thing."
Gregor cocked a brow. "Really? Huh. Either way, all your responsibility." The battle had barely ended an hour ago but when he heard Gregor laugh and talk, animated and smiling and relaxed, Felwinter felt as if he were speaking to a different man. Then again, this change was nothing unfamiliar. He saw it in Whiterun's guards after the defeat of Mirmulnir. He saw it in Lydia after they escaped Windcaller's tomb. Argis got himself good and horribly drunk after braving a Reachman stronghold to rescue a little girl. Felwinter even learned more about Jordis in the night after they put the Wolf Queen back to rest than he did in the weeks before. Facing the most overwhelming of odds was a good way to make one more excited for life and living. Helgen taught him many things, like how vividly one can recall even the shortest moments of their past and that 'seeing your life flash before your eyes' was more than just a saying; it also taught him that.
"I've heard rumors, thane," Gregor said, "But I never thought them true. That you command dragons."
"No one commands a dragon." Felwinter said, absent-mindedly running his fingers through Arvak's flames, "After Durnehviir tried to kill me..and I returned the favor with a bit more success, he and I came to an understanding. He taught me the Shout needed to summon him to this world, so he can fly the skies of Tamriel again and in return, he aids me in battle whenever I need him to."
"Do you need him often?"
"No, but sometimes, I'll pull him out anyway. Few tools are as effective as terror. A lot of Stormcloaks would've died fighting in Windhelm if I hadn't scared them into laying down their arms."
Jordis listened but kept her gaze forward, on the approaching gate of Raven Rock. Then her eyes flit up. "Thane…"
"Can't say I blame them. Staring down that thing's maw was probably the most terrifying moment of my life."
"Gregor? Thane?"
"Careful, old man. I might take that as a challenge."
Now Jordis was stopping. "Gregor! Thane!"
Both men turned. Then they followed her eyes.
Thick plumes of smoke wafted up over Raven Rock's high walls. Its heavy gate of iron bars had been knocked out of place and the trail leading inwards, they could see as they cautiously approached, was covered all over with soot and still burning flames.
And bodies. None of them moving.
Felwinter spurred Arvak into a gallop. At the entrance, he was dismounting before Arvak had come to a complete stop in front of the body of a guardsman slumped against the wall. The Dunmer's helmet had been taken off and his hand was clutching his side. Tightly, so there was a chance he was still alive. Felwinter's suspicions were confirmed when the guard reacted at the sound of his footsteps, flinching towards his weapon.
Felwinter squats down and takes the Dunmer's hand from his ribs, replacing it with his own, pouring magic into the wound. "What happened here?"
"The Spawn," he seethed through gritted teeth, "They attacked us again. A force larger than any before." He paused to inhale a painful breath. "They broke our defenses. Attacked the town."
"Jordis!" Felwinter pulled back his hand. "I've done what I could. Help him over to a healer but tell them his injuries aren't life-threatening. I don't want them pulled from others who might need them." Felwinter turned his attention back towards the town. "I need to look for Veleth."
He did not have to look far. Veleth was right at the center of town, overseeing damage control and dealing with an irate and clearly terrified Second Councilor. Arano leaves as Felwinter arrives, not even sparing the Dragonborn a look of acknowledgement. Captain Veleth is filthy and haggard, his arms and fingers adorned in new bandages. Still, he stands tall and barks his commands like a man fresh from a night's sleep.
His gaze turns to Felwinter. "General Carius?"
"Dead. Along with most of his Ash Spawn."
The man looked more impressed than relieved. "A relief to hear," he says, "But regardless of how many you took down, enough hit us here to get inside and…" he gestured to the smoldering buildings and the people running back and forth with buckets of seawater, "Do some damage."
He was grimacing. He was understating. Felwinter presses right to the point. "How many, Captain?"
"Six guards. Three civilians." He betrayed no emotion but his words were clipped and his crimson eyes blazed with anger. "The Spawn fell to ash and dust some time before you arrived. Could it have been your doing?"
"Maybe. Kill the summoner and the summoned have nothing left to bind them to this world. They disappear. In the case of necromancy, the corpses fall dead again."
"If that is indeed the case, then again and again, this town owes you," he says, "Far beyond what I can give." Veleth gestures to the inn. "The inn remains untouched. Many civilians were able to shelter there. Our First Councilor has promised to compensate Geldis Sadri for the amount of time you need to spend here. You won't need to spend a septim out of your own pocket, friend."
"Thank you," Felwinter said, "But our plan remains the same. Find what we're looking for and get out soon after." He rubs the back of his neck with a still armored end. "To be quite honest, this was always a bad time. Left a lot of problems to fester back home. I'd like this done as quickly as possible."
Veleth was staring at him, his brows tight with what came across as confusion. But then they rose in realization. "You don't know, do you…"
Now it was Felwinter's brow that tightened. "Don't know what?"
Veleth said nothing. Just gestured towards the docks. Felwinter follows his arms to the ships. Then slowly, they rise into the air, just like the plumes of black smoke floating up, his pupils shrinking all the while.
"They wanted to keep us from escaping," Veleth said about the burning ships. "None of them are capable of leaving port right now. They'd sink right to the bottom of the sea."
The longer Felwinter stared unblinkingly at the ships, the more the air starts to tingle and Veleth could swear he smelled rain. But then Felwinter closes his eyes with a gentle sigh and the air returns to normal. "I'll go see what healing I can do," he muttered, "I'll talk to my housecarls, see if they need a moment's rest. If not, they can help you with whatever you need."
The three retook the rooms they had before. As soon as their early dinner had finished, Gregor was in bed, catching up on sleep the morning's apprehension had denied him.
Felwinter had stepped outside of the inn, taking a chair and his hip flask and placing it near a fire. He drank and watched the town return just barely back to life as night fell and the moons rose. People were leaving their homes again, checking every corner, jumping at every snapped twig or crack of the fire but here they were nevertheless; moving about, speaking, embracing, grieving. Felwinter knew none of the dead. Crescius and his wife spoke with their neighbor outside their home. Glover left his own home and approached him, bandage pressed against stitches on his temple and nearly draining Felwinter's flask when he offered it.
Up, on the ridge in the distance, still stood the Earth Stone. And its workers. He was told that none of them even reacted when the Ash Spawn attacked. While the sun had still been up, Felwinter had seen a spot of the structure they were building around it, blackened by stray thrown fire. It had nearly struck one of the workers square in the back of the head. The woman hadn't so much as flinched away from the impact or the explosion or the heat.
They were all lucky Carius had been killed before the Spawn could make it up to them. But the fact that they tried at all was nothing but disheartening. Carius and his Ash Spawn; they had nothing to do with the Earth Stone or those cultists. Someone else was at play and now, just as with the cultists and this 'true Dragonborn', Felwinter was no closer to discovering who they were.
He sighed again and took a deep pull, finishing off the last of the sujamma he had saved. Then he brought his hand up and wrapped it around the crystal tied to his neck, waiting for the connection to be established and for that familiar rumbling voice to come through and greet his ears.