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I really should have seen this coming.
Like, I really, really, should have seen this coming.
We are currently traveling with the two Whiterun Companies deeper into Imperial territory.
I'm one of the six smiths in the camp, and EVERY. FUCKING. TIME. When we have to stop, at least half of the unit has some kind of issue that needs to be addressed.
I don't think I ever internalized just how often weapons break. Like…fuck. Well, not break break, just, y'know, chips and dents and shit, but
Ahem.
Right, right.
At the moment, the two Companies of Whiterun are marching deeper into contested turf in order to provide assistance for one of its missions. That mission is, of course, the search for the Jagged Crown.
…or, at least, it probably is. We were just told to go to some place named 'Korva'something.
The good thing about having hundred-man units is that we're bulky while still being relatively fast, so the trip to this place is projected to take only two weeks.
Fun fact: An Imperial 'Company' is roughly 150 men while a Skyrim one is roughly 100. This will in no way be confusing in the future.
Also fun fact: A Skyrim Division is five Companies, and a Skyrim Army is five Divisions. Of course normal people don't really give two fucks and will use these terms interchangeably to describe whatever unit sizes they want. I, as a normal person, will be doing the same unless I remember.
Anyways, we smith folk don't get a lot of free time, because every time we camp we need to set up the anvils, and every time we break camp we have to pack up the anvils. Good thing the rest of them have the common decency to help us out.
So…yeah. We started…oh, five days ago? There was a call for reinforcements sent to Whiterun (likely for political reasons) and the two companies were mustered four days ago. It's therefore day three of our journey and the spring rain makes me hate everything. They needed reinforcements in two different areas (convenient) and the two companies were sent to different sectors. The one we're not attached to is going northwest closer to Solitude. If there wasn't a swamp between Whiterun and Solitude I'd envy them.
The place we're going to is basically on the cusp of Whiterun and Stormcloak territories (and Dawnstar). Since we're only a Company as opposed to something larger, we have relatively good speed despite the need to take a more roundabout approach to avoid alerting the Stormcloaks that something's up. One reason for our speed is because our group has a grand total of seven wagons. One to four include foodstuffs and daily necessities, five and six are camp material (ones that we don't carry with us), seven is the forge equipment exclusively.
It's a good thing that we're a bunch of mercenaries and therefore have no unit cohesion or else this entire business of maintaining morale and speed would have been exceptionally difficult. I am, of course, being extremely sarcastic. Oh well, it's not like it's something I have control over.
"Um." A small voice says next to me.
I of course begin paying absolute and total attention. "Yes?"
"Is this ok?" Big Sister shows me the strip of cloth she's working on.
She is…
Learning to sew! Over the winter she's gotten comfortable enough with us to talk, just a little. First thing out of her mouth was a demand (ish) for something to do. So we're teaching her how to sew…largely because the current conditions make other kinds of work harder to do.
So she's learning to do stitches for now and her voice is so cute oh my god
"It looks good." I say and take the offered little cloth and give it a light tug. It unravels. "Though it looks like you still have a little bit to go." I smile and give her headpats. "Keep at it."
"Me too! Me too!" Little Sister is a lot more vibrant, as per her personality. She jumps in for headpats. Which I oblige.
Little Sister is a lot less…erm, calm? Than Big Sister, and as she got more familiar with me she got more rambunctious and inquisitive. I can't quite get her to sit down in the same way as her sister, so Little Sister is learning magic instead.
For the record: Flames and Healing are not innate, but semi-innate: they're easy spells to learn and can be learned through just watching and mimicry (like spoken language), but formal lessons make them more effective. That makes me feel a lot better about not knowing them right off the bat, to be honest.
Anyoo, Little Sister is learning to use Flames to heat up water. Jake's newfound (ish) abilities to Identify helped us find something mint-like while marching. I harvested some grass and turned that little bit of mint into like ten pounds of mint, so she's learning to make a little tea. He says it's not poisonous and I see no reason to doubt him.
You still fed him five cups of the stuff before you were satisfied.
Jake's got an innately good constitution and basically never gets sick. If I wanted to test a poison on him I'd have to do at least that much.
Anyhoo, the two of them are taking a spot on the 8th Warwolf-specific cart. No spare horses could be…spared…so Aria, with her Ethereal Dire Wolf, is the reason why we have a little bonus. The fact that she's so pretty definitely played a part in that. Hell, the fact that 80% of Warwolf is so pretty likely resulted in that kind of special treatment. Aria's cart carries things Warwolf uses, mostly rawmats and crafting gear for me and Mell.
"I'm making mad bank on this trip." Mell says at about the 8th day. Also, what? "Jake taught it to me." She adds upon seeing my stare.
We have made camp on this 8th day.
"Hey guys!" A young-ish voice says. "Look what I got!"
One of T'yanna's boy toys shows us the rabbit he's managed to trap.
Erm.
T'yanna the Orange is…a bit of a serial flirt, I guess? She has a very good understanding of how to spin people around her little finger and it's actually very impressive. As of right now she's got three bright-eyed young'uns from one of the other mercenary forces to hunt for her.
"Oh, that's wonderful!" She claps. "Let's cook it together!" She says, indicating both her and her other two…I really shouldn't call them boy toys. Like she's not leading them on or anything, she's just…really easy to approach, I suppose.
Well, if the three guys think they have a shot, I guess that makes them boy toys. Says a lot about her crowd management skills when none of the three are well they're staring daggers at each other so nevermind. She's a big girl, she can do what she wants.
And what are we doing?
I've learned to be patient with regards to my enchanting, so I've spent the past eight days working on some clothing for myself.
It is very important to note that, at this point in time, I do not have any serious armor with me. The only thing I have is my shoddy leather armor which…has gotten worse over time, so I'm due for a retrofit. Offense-wise I have some of my swords from the forge and the Phallic Infernal Dagger Of Verily Extremities. PIDOVE.
Jake's responsible for that name and considering that he took the better part of three hours to get the words right(ish) I feel obligated to at least give said name an honorable mention. I will refer to the dagger as a prototype fire dagger because I have comparatively less naming sense.
Anyways, since I don't really have the time to do my own metalwork due to literally everybody else breaking their metal stuff on a daily basis, my new armor is cloth. Cloth + cheaty bullshit.
I've also tried to enchant and…um. It didn't not work?
To elaborate:
My armor is basically a shirt, except…y'know, I've broken every law conceivable to produce it. For starters, the base material is spider thread. I got this idea after making Mint from…not-Mint, after having Mint as a reference. I got a little spider thread because one of our boxes had a little spider, and then I basically Transmuted leftover bunches of foodstuffs into that thread. Since spider thread is biological and food is also biological, transmuting the two was probably not as tiring as if I had used, say, pebbles.
I then weaved that thread into workable thread (of a kitting kind), then transmuted some yarn I had into that workable thread. THEN, I actually got into weaving the thread into what is basically a square centimeter of material.
Then, because obviously why cheat if you can't go all the way, I use a mix of Transmute and Rapid Production to make more of that material out of discarded bags, along with Replace to get rid of impurities that the perk abuse would likely cause. I think.
Anyways, the result is a long-sleeved shirt-pants combo (plus gloves) that's very soft to the touch and…well, is basically made of spun steel. Over that spidersilk shirt is a comparatively more normal shirt to act as a disguise, and in between is yet another shirt made of superdense cotton (Replace™) that acts as a buffer against bash attacks.
The entire setup is a little toasty, but I can keep myself cooled off indefinitely with frost, so it's not like I care. Given the material involved I think the shirt is rather flammable, so there's now a very good chance I take 3000% damage from all sources of flames. Like I'm basically perma-doused in gasoline.
Regardless, the best part about the spidersilk shirt is the fact that Big Sister made the cuffs for them, and that Little Sister decorated the cuffs with some wildflowers she found.
The reason why enchanting didn't not work is because I basically tried to weave some frost into the thread, to help give it some fire resistance. It did not shatter during creation, which is a good thing. During testing, the outfit did not singe, which is also a good thing, but I don't know if that was because I was holding my punches. Either way, I'm crossing my fingers…and also, y'know, gonna steer clear from fire. Just in case.
…Real glad I made the cuffs kinda short, because can you imagine if my own Flames made my outfit catch on fire?
…
[End of Travel]
…
Between training, work, and the occasional skirmish against roving bands of animals, Jake and I earned 24 and 32 points respectively.
Jake puts his points into Defender, which makes him tankier.
I, with the need to store 50 points, spend 20 of it on capping magic recovery, then distribute the other 12 into my crafting perks. I don't think I appreciate just how much I've been neglecting them. I get Magic Attunement as a finishing effect (mana cap +25%). Not flashy, but still welcome.
…I am coming to the realization that I could have made some seriously kickass shit if I just devoted myself to…to…erm…putting everything into cheating more seriously? I guess?
I should count my blessings already, no?
Anyhoo.
We've finished our travel to the Korva place, and, per Skyrim weather, it has started to snow. There's an imperial camp that looks rather hastily raised, and that is very likely our mission target.
"Hail." An Imperial soldier says as our captain approaches. "I take it you're the reinforcements sent from Whiterun?"
"That we are." The captain says, showing off a small plaque with the Whiterun symbol engraved on it. "What's the situation?"
"You're better off asking the captain." The soldier says and gestures to where this 'Korva' place should be. "She's up there."
Now, I don't remember where the location is, but going by maps and relative position, I think we're on the mission where we get the crown and return it to one side or the other.
Our group drops off our stuff at the camp and proceeds closer to Korvanjund.
"Finally." The Imperial captain…what's her face? Stands to greet us with a stiff and compulsory salute. "Welcome to the Korvanjund Warcamp."
"Whiterun one-oh-one 'Screaming Eagles', at your service." The captain salutes. "I am Captain Marcus."
Um.
It was decided that the company needed a name, and the combined suggestion between myself and Jake was accepted.
"Well, Marcus, you've arrived at a good time." The…I'm gonna call her the Commander from now on. The Commander says. "Are you aware of our current condition?"
Marcus shakes his head no.
…
[Exposition]
…
Hm. Ok.
So, this is, indeed, the mission where we seize a MacGuffin from within the cold undead hands of a Draugur while we also fight off enemies from the opposing faction. Obviously, we're up against the Stormcloaks.
I'm not entirely sure how the narrative in the game went, but here, the Stormcloaks made the first move against this…tomb? And have been holed up here for a good three weeks before the Imperials got wind of exactly what was going on. At the moment, the Imperials have two Companies trying to break into the tomb. Well, they started with two, anyway.
The reason why they're not just, y'know, trying to siege out the Stormcloaks, is because a Stormcloak army of some unknown size is marching to relieve this position. There's every chance that the relieving army is bigger than two Companies, and therefore we need to do this fast.
…fast-ish. The weather is unpredictable and rough at times, and the Stormcloak army is likely either A) Not going to be that fast or else B) require additional time to rally and organize to a point of being able to fight an Imperial company effectively.
Either way, the conservative timeline is four days. It's likely going to take the Stormcloaks longer to get to us, but four is the fastest possible time.
And how is it estimated?
By assuming that a Stormy Dude is going to march constantly from dawn to dusk.
…Also, worth noting: there was no mention of Draugur, which implies that the Imperials either 1) have no idea that the insides of the tomb is a fucking death trap, or else 2) they know but are not telling us.
Hrm. Well, either way, we as a group know about the Draugur because we (me, Jake, Aria) already told everybody.
Anyhoo, the Screaming Eagles enter the…um. Kirva.
…
Like the game (kinda), the immediate entrance, past the gate, is an ad-hoc campground with most of the intruding team's supplies. Unlike the game, the Stormcloaks have already been pushed deeper into Kirva, and the camp has basic functionalities like beds, a campfire, foodstuffs, so on.
Going by the flags and some of the decorations, I'm going to assume that the Imperials didn't set this camp up.
There are Stormcloak signs here and there painted over with smears of blood.
Also, there seems to be roughly twenty wounded and thirty dead, if the dead are covered with white linen. I assume these dead are not Draugur because I'm reasonably certain that people would be freaking the fuck out if they did.
…We should probably also burn them just in case?
Either way.
We go to heal folks while Marcus goes to deal with the camp's Captain.
"How goes the battle?" Marcus asks when the formalities are out of the way.
"Harsh." The Captain (name's Orden) says. "There are too many dead angles and dark corners in the halls. The Stormcloaks are well equipped with Fireball scrolls and constantly ambush us with attacks."
That explains the shitton of burn wounds. I'm getting so much experience dealing with burn wounds. "Prep some hot water and bandages."
"Aye." One of the other Eagle healers says and does as told.
"Fireballs, huh?" Marcus probably throws a look my way. "Good to know. Is it all scrolls? How fast are they recovering?"
Scrolls don't disappear after one use, but it takes some time before the inscribed magic recovers. Bigger spells obviously take longer to recover, and leaving scrolls in the hands of mages make them recover faster. Either way I'm not getting anywhere near that shit.
"Far too fast." Orden says. "The enemy is difficult to dislodge, and all the help is necessary." Pause. "As you can see, we've many wounded and morale is very low."
Orden's pause was him looking at the rows and rows of wounded that we are currently tending to.
I spare a look at the remaining men gathered around the few campfires here. They don't seem like a happy bunch.
"I understand." Marcus says. "We'll begin operations immediately. Do you have any maps we can use?"
As those guys start looking at the maps, we're finished with immediate care on the soldiers. I should note that these guys do have their own healers, but they're rather heavily tapped out by the hefty workload. It also doesn't help that they have to constantly fight against the dirty environment.
Currently, the Sisters are helping some of the 101 Novice healers change bandages and clean wounds. Little Sister is very insistent that each wound be "cleared perfetly" because she can't pronounce the 'c' easily.
I think it's the cutest thing, though she can probably stand to tone down her voice a bit.
…
After about thirty minutes, the 101 has prepared five strike units (4 men each), two support units (6 men each), and a vanguard (3-man team). Strike unit's job is to scour dead corners, vanguard is to drive deep, and support is to mop up.
To note, I'm staying back at camp to heal, Jake's in the vanguard, and Mell's with one of the support units to provide immediate potion access.
"Don't get overeager." Marcus reminds them. "We don't know the full situation, so be aware of ambushes." He stares straight at Jake. "They're in your care, Jake."
"Aye." Jake grins and winks at him. "Alright, let's move out!"
Hoo-ah!
…
…
Healing, healing, healing…
Work, Work.
We do not notice, at all, the analytical eyes of Orden as he stands back to watch us direct our team of six clerics, four T-Sisters, and two Girls. After some time, he makes a small motion to the Imperial Clerics, who nod slightly and then strategically offer support. The fact that their support is carefully tailored to make us use different means of healing escapes us as well.
…
…
By the time I've put heals on all the downed Imperial folk, one of oh my lord
Mell's support team comes back on stretchers.
One…two…five…
Nine wounded, with Mell being one of them. Some burns, a cut to her leg, nothing big.
"More beds!" I command. The Imperial Clerics dutifully lay out nine clean sheets that I had them wash and the injured get put on them.
Quick Examination!
Mell's injuries are pretty light, so I quickly clean her up, pump in heals, and move on.
When we start healing Mell, Orden almost tries to comment.
Hardest wounded is…this guy. Wow he's about bleeding out. "Mell, give me a hand with this." Maybe I shouldn't have practiced nepotism.
"Right." Mell sits up, stands (with a little help from T-Mare) and starts looking over the near-corpse with me. She quickly gets something like a blood transfusion potion and pours it into the man's mouth.
Orden blinks in surprise at how quickly Mell gets onto her feet.
The transfusion potion is basically some of Jake's blood (O negative) mixed with a bog-standard healing potion. Mell came up with the idea after we (me and Jake) explained blood type to her. It's…seriously effective at replenishing blood.
Anyways, this guy is now out of critical and I can hand off the work to two Apprentices. Moving on!
We quickly tend to the nine people, taking care of the bulk of the healing while the less skilled Clerics take care of lesser injuries, bandaging, and cleaning. Orden has a slightly dropped jaw after an Imperial Cleric tells him that the nearly dead dude is going to be fine.
At this point, Mell has noticed that we (Ash) is being watched, but can't get a word in edgewise since we're so focused on healing.
Whew. Nobody's dead, but man that's close. "The hell happened?" I ask one of the not-downed dudes. A Novice's bandaging him up.
"Ambush." The guy says. "One of the strike teams found a Stormcloak unit and attacked, but they got fireballed for their trouble." He then makes a circular motion with his finger. "And then as soon as the Support unit got there another group hit us, rinse and repeat." He sighs. "If it weren't for the Mountain none of us would be standing."
I narrow my eyes. He's ok, yes?
"He's digging in with the other guys." The guy explains. "He said something about taking a forward position so they don't have to start from the beginning every time."
"We tried that. Didn't work too well." Orden says. "Tell 'The Mountain' to return to base."
Marcus overrules him. "If it's the Mountain, it should be fine. Have some of our archers and battlemages move up as well, we'll take that area so he can come back to rest."
At those words, the rest of the 101 stand and prepare to move deeper inwards.
"Watch out for those fireballs." Orden says with a sigh. "You there. Healer." He adds.
We pay him no attention because it doesn't even cross our mind that he's talking to us. We begin packing up with the rest of the unit.
"Sir Healer!" Orden calls out, louder. Person's not paying attention, I see. "The man with his daughters!" Oh he's talking to me
Well now I'm embarrassed. "Yes?"
"Forgive me but I do not know your name." Orden salutes apologetically.
Yeah, that's kind of my fault. "Name's Ash." I salute back. "What do you need?"
Orden grimaces inwardly at the lack of respect for the chain of command.
"I can see that you have a talent for the school of restoration." Orden says. "I'd like to request your services for the moment."
…That sounds an awful lot like an order. "Marcus?"
"Sure." Marcus says. "We've plenty of healers on our own. If you're worried about the Mountain, we'll task some of our healers to Warwolf as needed."
"I'll go!" One of the healers (young girl, Apprentice) immediately steps up. Given the excited glint in her eye I'd say this is another notch to Jake's harem belt. I think I may be underestimating how much people value raw force of arms around here.
"Alright." I nod. "Good luck out there, Marcus."
He nods in reply.
And shares a look with Orden that we don't catch.
"Thank you." Orden says graciously. "Our own healers are exhausted from the workload, and every extra hand helps."
So why just me, huh? Besides, it's not like I'll be doing anything different.
More like 'please finish up your work' rather than anything else.
Seriously.
Anyway, the rest of the 101 finishes their preparations and moves deeper in. Ok, let's see here…
…
[Some Hours Later]
…
I've finished healing the fifty casualties.
Fifty?
You know how healing lets people get back on their feet real fast? Well, in a situation where every man is critical, that translates to freshly healed people getting shoved back into frontline combat. I'm not a psychologist, but I get the feeling that being told to go back into a fireball-infested tunnel is probably not good for morale.
Either way, fifty casualties, counting the twenty that were here before I got here. The other thirty were a mix of Imperial and 101 units, all with considerable wounds. I think the seriously wounded are probably being shuffled back here for better treatment because I'm awesome.
…though I have to wonder at how many fatalities we've taken so far. Considering that we've been told about the existence of two companies here, the fact that they have less than 150 men on the field is not heartening. Either way, now that the backlog of healing is cleared out, we're now able to move the support camp closer to the front line.
Also fuck indoor levels, man. There's basically no torches around here so I have to pop magelight like crazy. It cuts into my mana pool which, as I have discovered today, is not actually bottomless. I mean, in the sense that 'oh wow I actually have to stop healing' sense rather than 'I suddenly lose the ability to use magic at all' sense. I know about that second one.
At around the six-hour mark I tapped out and had to rest for an hour or so, and afterwards I felt pretty drained. Regen aside I still have mana, so that's good. My regeneration rate scales inversely with my usage rate (over some amount of time, haven't found out what), which makes sense in retrospect. If I blow a lot of my mana very quickly (read: reviving the nearly dead) I basically don't regenerate for a while since the rate is so slow.
As we mull it over, the back camp (that we're attached to) finishes its move closer to the front lines, and we return to service with the 101.
So if I keep my expenditures light then I'll be fine…that is…wow. The fuck, dude?
Jake is sitting in the immediate backup camp lit by dim magelight. He looks like he's been through hell, though he's still standing. Next to him is the Apprentice Girl Healer, who looks like she's badly out of her depth as he tries to reassure her that the flood of blood isn't her fault.
"Hey." Jake greets me weakly as I approach. My girls start to roll out bandages even before I say anything. They're so great.
Also. "The fuck happened, dude?" He's got a bloody bandage over his left eye, his right arm is badly burned, and his leg is bent in a terrible-looking angle. "Mell, pot me." I need more mana (maybe).
"You sure? You look like you could use rest." Mell says, but hands over a mana potion anyway. I down it quickly and get to work on Jake's wounds.
We're now so experienced at making hot water with magic that we're basically shooting hot water from our hands. Quantity-wise it's not much, but it does mean that we can do just-in-time cleaning of his wounds as necessary. Apprentice Healer watches in utter shock and fascination, muttering something like "they never taught this during training." Little Sister was the only one who heard and flashes her a proud and cheeky grin in reply.
"I think I get why the Imperials are having a rough time." Jake says lightly. Beyond the camp, I can hear the sounds of muffled explosions and shouting. "They're still going at it." He says as I get deeper into his giant list of injuries.
Well…while I'm doing this. "What's the situation?"
…
[Exposition]
…
So…the 101 did pretty well at the beginning, but then they got to the chokepoint™ and things started to go sideways.
The chokepoint is a pair of rooms deeper in the dungeon connected by a pair of paths (one low, one high). The low path is basically a narrow corridor that screams "fireball me" and the high path is held firmly by the Stormcloaks.
What happened afterwards was basically six hours of Stormcloaks hunkering down and sending detachments over the second entrance. Apparently, people moving around stealthily are really, really hard to spot when the rest of the chamber is like 90% fireballs and 110% screaming.
Point is, the Stormcloaks were able to break out small detachments and being enclosed in a small space with one dude who carries like ten fireball scrolls is a terrible idea. Also, being enclosed in a small space with relatively poor lighting is a really bad idea when at least one of those scrolls is a super, duper bright magelight.
As in: the Stormcloaks sneak in, release 1 flash and 10 fireballs (or so), and then retreat.
That flashbang is what got to Jake, by the way. His group got ganked by two Stormcloak units (around eight people in total) and got totally disoriented. Apparently the Stormcloaks knew about him as well and they called backup, so by the time the rescue unit got to him he was basically being machine-gunned(ish) by fireballs.
The fact that he took so much punishment and is otherwise standing is kind of incredible.
"But yeah, they're spending extra time cleaning up the Stormcloaks that ran through." Jake says. "Between that and the whole 'having to break through' business with the rest of 'em dug in, we haven't really made any progress."
"Story of this fight." Orden agrees. "This is where we were last time before they launched an attack that heavily pushed us back."
Hmm. "You can't do what they're doing?" I ask him.
Orden shakes his head slightly. "We've neither the mages or scrolls to do the same level of damage that the Stormcloaks were doing."
"Speaking of which." T'yanna brings out a trio of scrolls. "I nicked these off of a Stormcloak as he was retreating." She says…how? "I also stabbed him." Oh. She hands them over to me. "Ten says you've got good grounding as a mage. Think you can make heads or tails of these?"
Why me? I take them anyway because hey, free scrolls. "I'll try."
Ten's (one of) their nicknames for T'nerem.
Hmm…looking at the scrolls, I assume the patterns drawn on them is the pattern necessary for casting fireball. Currently, the lines are a dull, dark maroon color.
"Remember that I just gave you energy." Mell says. "Don't waste it on charging scrolls."
I wasn't about to. "I know." I set the scrolls aside for now and focus on healing Jake.
…
We continue to heal for around thirty minutes.
…
The fact that the sounds of battle never seemed to drop throughout all those thirty minutes is a bit unnerving. Regardless, "Ok, that should do it."
Jake takes off the bandages around his head. "Eye's a little blurry." He blinks a few times to adjust to his newly regrown eye. "Should I be sleeping it off?"
"Probably, yeah." I yawn. "My hands are shaking so I don't think I did a very good job." I am actually exhausted, so my healing work's likely suffering as a result. I'm starting to get a tingly sensation but can still heal, so I think I'm running on fumes.
"You're a fucking godsend, you know that?" Jake stands and hops around a little.
We're too busy yawning to notice the gaping mouths and stares thrown in our direction. Jake definitely notices and winks back at the onlookers. We have, in no particular order: regrown Jake's eye, rebuilt his left arm (which had been cut to pieces), repaired his Achilles tendon, and dug the bone bits that used to be his ribs. And also regrown his ribs and fixed his various burns. It helps that Jake's perks grant him auto-heal abilities.
"Ash probably needs to rest now." T'nerem says. "He's probably been on healing duty nonstop today."
"Quite." Orden says. "Marcus, tell your men to scale down their attacks while the healers rest."
"Aye." Marcus agrees. "No point waking them from their needed sleep."
Quite nice of them, to be honest.
Jake sets up a bedroll with the nicest fur he could find and we immediately fall asleep.
…
[Some hours later]
…
BOOM
I'M AWAKE! I'M AWAKE!
…It looks like nothing's changed.
…Well, no, the T-sisters and Mell are asleep. My girls are busy doing chores (like bringing water and food to people), but otherwise nothing's changed.
We get up.
"You're up." Marcus notes with a yawn. "It's near noon." He says, pointing to an hourglass and a bunch of black lines drawn on the stone next to him. Or else they're smears, it's hard to tell by torch.
"How goes the fight?" I ask and shoot some hot water onto my face.
Marcus huffs. "We've managed to secure the top passage, but other than that, no progress." He gestures to Mell. "She's also out of good potions, too."
Make sense. Good potions, by the way, are the three main ones (health/mana/stamina), because they're the ones that are most immediately useful. Don't know if I mentioned this, but all potions are 'recover over time' types, rather than 'recover X immediately' types.
…Well, I'm freshly rested. I've gained a total of…78 points? Nice.
This also gives me a new major perk called '500', which I assume means that I get something for going past 500 of something. Probably perk points. It just gives me a +1 to luck, which…well, I haven't seen anything else that gives luck, so this is pretty substantial.
Anyways, I've dumped some points into some random perks, but most importantly I picked 30 points of scrollcraft (make scrolls better) and scrollcharge (charge scrolls faster). A little miffed I have to take something based on current conditions, but that's how things go.
For the record, Jake got 135 points in his life and death struggle.
I have a lot of major perks unallocated, so I take three points of scrollmaker (Great/er/est) because why not, and, uh, 'High Magic Writer, Reader, and Interpreter'.
Judging by their description, I have basically wrestled twenty people from the claws of death to achieve what is basically the ability to read and write.
HM Writer gives me "Better results when making tomes", Reader gives me the same when 'reading tomes' and Interpreter makes me better when 'working with spells'.
I assume this means I'm going to be the world's most dangerous librarian, and I approve.
Anyways, the scrolls.
After a good night's sleep, the scrolls have changed colors from a dull maroon color to a light red. I assume this means they're charged. Sadly, the scrollmaking perks don't help when I don't have knowledge, so all I can do is stare at the circles and have this vague feeling of incompletion.
I also don't have any knowledge of what is needed to modify a scroll, but I assume it's the same material needed for enchantments.
We ask around.
"No, just regular ink will do." One of the battlemages replies and hands me a bottle. "However, scrollmaking is not the art of novices, so to do so without practice is unlikely."
We then proceed to demolish one of the three scrolls by idly scribbling on it.
I think he's right. Does Skyrim recycle?
The red ink on the scroll turns black after we break it, so instead of it being a scroll of fireball it is now just a ruined doodle.
The way I see it, a scroll has three parts: the spell, the condenser, and the storage. I'm naming them based on their use and I have no research to back up these claims.
The spell does what the scroll says it does. Scroll of Fireball has a Fireball inscribed into it.
The condenser helps draw power from the ambient surroundings, probably.
The storage helps regulate the power and keep it stored to be unleashed, probably.
This structure makes the most sense to me, so we're going to pretend that this is the case until proven otherwise. Regardless, since I don't know what part of the circle does what, I'm just going to use them as-is without modifications. If I want more, I can just copy it, so that's nice.
…Do I need special paper for this?
Jake wakes up and allocates his points.
He maxes out Counter Master, takes a bunch of other minor perks, and then takes a bunch of major perks, then gets some Mountain-esque finishing effects.
He takes: Counter Master (Great/er/est), Evasion Master (Great/er/est), Melee Foresight, and Ranged Foresight. The two masters do exactly what they say on the tin (make Counter/Evade better), and the two foresights boost his hit/evade while fighting those two types of attacks.
The finishing effects are: Aspect of Wind, Earth, Fire, and Water. He is pretty much the last Everything Bender. The four aspects do similar things, so all of them combined means that Jake now takes half damage from all attacks and deal an extra quarter more (technically 40% and 20%, but eh).
Wind reduces damage taken by 20%, earth does the same for physical damage, water for magic, and fire makes him hit harder for 20%.
He also gets Counter Master for hitting 100 with Counter.
Like…I think Jake's gotten to the point where if I kit him correctly he will literally take no damage from just about everything.
…
[About an hour Later]
…
So that's not true. Sad, but I think I can get around it.
Jake comes back with a bit of a limp (arrow to the shin) and we patch him up right and proper. Now that the healers are all awake, the tempo of the battle has been raised a bit.
Jake's perks are, I think, pound for pound better than mine, but because they require that he be in the heat of battle, they're also therefore way more situationally activated. As in, his evasion/counter bonuses only work if he's aware of being attacked. If he gets ambushed (like just now with the arrow) then things go sour.
So…yeah. I should give Jake something that gives him innate detection or something. Really abuse his bullshit perks to their limit.
Either way, Jake's back on his feet in no time and gets back out there.
"Ash, can you help out at the front?" T'Ma asks me. Lady do you not understand how much damage I take from magic…
…Though I'm curious. "Why?"
"The Stormcloaks are focusing down our battlemages, and we could use someone who's got power to help even the odds."
I take a moment to parse this statement, because it sounds awfully like "hey if you go out there everyone and their mother will want to shoot at you specifically with those fireballs which you have a 15x weakness to."
…On the flip side, I kind of really want to get out there. I like my healing, and I love my kids, but I want some action.
Remind me why you have kids?
I am a terrible role model. "Let me get prepared." I get my two fireball scrolls and my 2x fireball scroll.
Which is…
Since I can use more than one scroll per spell, I copied one of the Fireball scrolls onto a large piece of linen (I got some of the linen lying around, transmuted it together, and cleaned it). I have no idea what this will do. I suspect that if I didn't have the perks for making scrolls it would not have gone as well as it did.
I also have had absolutely no practice with this scroll and have zero guarantees that it would perform its designed function. The only safety check I'm implementing is that I am giving this thing to the toughest person we know (Jake) with warning that it may or may not explode violently against him.
My gravestone will say "He had it coming" and it would be entirely justified.
We follow T'Ma to the front line, where Jake stands tapping his feet.
"Yo." He greets me as I get here. Apart from Jake, there's around twenty other Imperial soldiers and ten Eagle soldiers. There are also periodic fireballs being shot down the low corridor.
So, in game, this is the part where the player can stop following the NPCs to do a little bit of exploring. What's-her-face basically tells the group to stop because there's a high possibility of an ambush, and then you, the player, gets to take the second entrance and surprise the defenders.
Here…the defenders are very aware that we're here, and have basically barricaded the second story entrance with all the debris that they can find. If we attempt to clear the second story entrance, there's a very high chance that the Stormcloaks on the other side will just fireball the people trying to clear said entrance. Going down the lower lane just gets us fireballed, too.
Either way, not a pleasant environment. "I have a present for you." I hand over the 2x Fireball to Jake. "It's theoretically a very big kaboom."
Jake gingerly takes the two pieces of paper with his thumb and forefinger. "This isn't gonna be like that teapot, is it?"
Oh he remembered that? "It's exactly like that teapot." I grin. "Down to the whole 'never tested this before' business."
"Fuck me." Jake sighs. "Alright, better me than you." He takes the two scrolls and focuses. Instantly, a small ball of fire grows on his free hand. I can see from here that the two scrolls have turned maroon in color.
We have retreated into a corner and put up around ten layers of Wards. The T-sisters are the only ones to take the hint, and retreat accordingly.
Jake lines himself up with the hallway, squints, then quickly throws the ball and dives out of the way. The reason for his dive is because a fireball was shot in his direction and not at all because he rightfully doubts my first-time-craft capabilities. Nope. Not at all.
The 2x Fireball whistles through the corridor.
Moment of silence.
The room trembles.
…Fuck?
"Aiight." Jake, already on his feet, sprints through the hallway.
His footsteps resound through the hallway, ending with a loud and very vicious "Hello motherfuckers!" somewhere on the other side of the hallway. The T-Sisters, hearing the shout, sprint after him, followed by the rest of the on-site Eagles, then the rest of the on-site Imperials.
Then me, because why risk it?
…
After I cross the threshold, I find out that, to no surprise, the defending Stormcloaks are wiped out to a man. Or not, judging by the fact that the gate deeper in is wide open.
"Alright, we got past this part." Jake breathes out, looking at the gate. "I saw a lot of them pack up and leave, so I think I may have gotten maybe a quarter of them." There's around seven Stormcloaks dead at his feet, so…around thirty men?
…Thirty men stopped two companies? Seriously?
"Spells make tight quarters a bitch." An Imperial soldier grumbles. "Messenger, go tell the captain that we've captured the door." An Imperial Messenger salutes and does as he's told.
This side of the room is more or less straightforward. The passage that we've (well, the Imperials) just spent days trying to pass extends to the far wall, and a broken wooden staircase would have let us go from this lower level to the upper one. Judging by the fact that there are cut nets on the floor, I assume the Stormcloaks used nets to get from the bottom level to the upper one. The overall distance between the two is about a person-and-a-half, so somebody could certainly get to the upper level if given a boost.
Hrm.
"That scroll did the trick." Jake says. "When I rushed through, every Stormcloak was dazed and out of it." He frowns. "There wasn't a whole lot of fire, though."
Noted, though I'm just glad it worked at all.
…
As the main camp moves up, the front guard reestablishes a way past the man-and-a-half elevation change via reusing the Stormcloak's cut nets. Afterwards, since nobody in the Eagles wanted to separate from Jake, we sit around and wait while the Imperial elements continue past the metal gate.
"So…think we woke 'em up?" I ask Jake on the sly, covered by the din of the incoming camp.
"Probably." Jake agrees. "At least they don't shoot fuckin' fireballs."
The second half of this scenario is basically a rush against Draugr. Though…if I'm remembering right, isn't there a second exit?
"Aye, there is." Orden says when he gets here. "But the gates are made of iron. We don't have experienced thieves in this company." He glances at Marcus.
"We don't either." Marcus shrugs. "Most rogues I know are good at sneaking around, less so at picking pockets or opening unusual locks."
…I feel like all of this would've been solved by a good ol' lever.
"We've tried to prop the gate open with a lever, too, but it's too heavy." Orden adds as an afterthought. Well fuck you too, for being foresighted.
Anyways, the camp finishes its move at around the same time that the earlier detachment comes back.
Verdict? Draugur. It seems that, indeed, the Imperial army was not aware that Nord Zombies were a thing. The soldiers sound a bit shaken.
According to them, they saw dozens of Draugur wandering around the next chamber and what looked like dead Stormcloaks lying around the floor. If memory serves, the next big room is basically a trap where Draugur spawn all around the room. If that's the case, then it makes sense that a comparatively bigger room with no attention to balance would spawn a bajillion zombies and overwhelm through sheer numbers.
Be nice if the Stormcloaks fired their Fireballs as a last-ditch thing, but whatevs.
Our combined group prepares to dive deeper into the dungeon.
The plan is pretty simple: people who can shoot magelights shoot magelights, and the people who can murder Draugur murder Draugur.
Both groups move deeper and carry out the plan.
With Jake taking point, the Vanguard (all blokes with Greatswords) dive straight into the room of Draugur. I'd say that…there's about sixty Draugur in the room.
Jake swings his sword.
Fifty-five.
They're pretty dispersed (kind of) through the rather large hall, but since there doesn't seem to be any reinforcements popping up from
One Draugur rises from the grave. We shoot it dead with fire.
Doesn't seem to be any reinforcements popping up from the other caskets except for that lil' shit.
…The rest of the battle doesn't take too long. Draugur are most dangerous with surprise and numbers, and this is one of those times where they have neither. Soon enough, we're now faced with the greatest enemy of any dungeon-crawling party: doors. It's at least a metal one so we have an excuse.
"Alright." Orden says after reviewing said door. "There must be a switch here."
We all fan out to find the switch. Given that there's like sixty of us and us mages can pop magelight forever, we find the switch (a push-down kind) in no time at all.
Moving on!
…
…
The rest of the dungeon is a slow slog through mountains of Draugur.
"I think your scroll woke all of 'em up." Jake comments as he kills, like, his 200th one.
"Yeah, well, it got us past the hard part." I defend myself, though I do agree.
"At least this is more straightforward than the Stormcloaks." T'ma notes, out of breath. "Got any water?" Big sister hands her a flask. "Thanks."
The T-Sisters are basically on rotation with Jake and Eric. The six of them take shifts of four people at a time and are basically responsible for guarding the party's right flank, where we happen to be.
The 'back line', as it were, is made of me, Mell, my girls, and Aria.
Aria's our permanent defense.
"I don't see why I can't just defend you by killing everything." Aria had said with a cute little pout. Our reasoning is that we need someone skilled on backup in case Jake gets swamped, and having two tired elites at the same time would help nobody.
We continue to progress slowly deeper into the chamber, including a merciful hallway where no Draugur bothered us.
That was a nice little five minutes for us to all catch our breath. Too bad it's past now.
…I am coming to the sudden realization that we may have just crossed the dragonclaw door without realizing it. Why's it open again? Who did it this time?
…
Our combined company makes way into the deepest part with some casualties. During the battle we slowly made our way to the center while other 101 or Imperial units took our place on the right flank.
No fatalities, though, which is good. T'mare took a rather nasty cut to her arm, which means Aria's now on offense while she rests for defense.
I'd say we're at…60%? Of our initial combat power.
The biggest issue of this dungeon is, quite literally, the fact that the Draugur are coming up almost as quickly as they're going down. Basically, the corpse needs to be entirely de-limbed or else reduced entirely to ashes. As a result, the fighting has been…thorough, to say the least.
It's a bit scary when a downed Draugur suddenly takes a swipe at your leg, not gonna lie. Why are they so persistent in this dungeon? Is it because the crown is important?
…Would owning that crown result in more Draugur showing up? Or would it result in the Draugur attacking the owner? Hmm.
…Either way, we're now at the very end. Both units are exhausted, and we have no room to retreat. The reason why we can't retreat is because…well, we can't burn down 100% of the Draugur that we've met and apparently a Draugur without its entire lower body is still dangerous if it has, like, arms or its mouth. A head by itself can still bite and SHOOT FUCKING ICE.
…Not a lot of ice, and definitely ain't enough to do damage, but it's annoying. Plus, a long slog like this is extremely bad for equipment maintenance, and that, plus the fact that we're basically doing breakthrough attacks (leaving live targets behind us) means we can't really go back easily. Nobody wants to go back emptyhanded like this, either.
ANY ways, we're now in the deepest layers of the…Barrow? Catacombs? I've already forgotten the name of the place. The torches that we have illuminate this room as a big, empty motherfucker. The floor is exceptionally smooth at parts…as in, there's a raised surface that's incredibly smooth. Said raised surface is also rather large, too.
"Fan out." Orden says. "This place is huge. Don't group up unnecessarily."
I guess he's worried about an ambush. Don't blame him. Our two groups spread out into little gaggles of units with our own torches. I'm getting goosebumps, and it's cold down here.
"Ash, can you light up the entire area?" Jake asks. "If we're gonna be ambushed then I'd rather see what we're dealing with." He says with enough volume for everyone to hear.
I crack my knuckles. "Shouldn't be too difficult." Pew! Pew! Pew!
A flurry of magelights emit from our hands and hang in the air.
…Oh wow, I figured I wouldn't hit the ceiling with them, but they only went halfway…ish? This chamber is about eighty feet high, then.
…Given the size, wouldn't it collapse? There's no pillar in the middle or anything…
Mm…
The party proceeds through the room and arrives at a stone throne sitting in the middle of the smooth floor.
The throne…is empty. Save for a rather…strangely gleaming crown sitting on the chair, it is empty.
Jake goes "If this isn't a fucking ambush I will eat my hat." To which T'ma slyly replies "you don't wear a hat."
Orden has the same sense we do. "Stay alert, it cannot possibly be this easy." He warns us. "Form a defensive line, do not approach the throne. Scouts of both Imperial and Whiterun parties, find us any possible exits."
We do, and keep a wide berth around the worryingly empty throne in the process. After five minutes or so, one of the Imperial scouts reports that "there's a passage back here!" from somewhere on the other side of this room. "I think it leads to a staircase!" He gets a battlemage to put up some magelights by the door so we know where it is.
Woo! Way out!
"Alright." Marcus says with some cheer. "Now let's take this thing and go home."
"Aye." Orden nods. "Will you do the honors, Captain Marcus? Though my reports will say otherwise, I think we all know who's responsible for this victory today."
"If you're being this generous." Marcus grins, walks up to the throne, checks it for traps (probably, given how he's looking over it), and then plucks the crown.
Aaaaand the shit hits the fan. All around us, we suddenly start to hear whispers. Everyone in attendance immediately takes defensive formations ('cuz we're all terrified) and we start inching to the exit.
All around us, signs of blue…ethereal blue…oh fuck it's ghosts.
Around the entire room, ghost warriors begin phasing through the walls. They're packed dense, to the point where their ghostly coloring makes it impossible to see the wall behind them.
That's a lot. That is, a lot. The girls are terrified and are clutching my legs and I should trim their nails.
…Also, Mell. I guess she doesn't like ghosts. Right, she really doesn't like ghosts.
Mell's got our arm clutched tight into her chest.
She's got a hell of a grip because I'm trying to free my arm and it's not working. I need both my arms to cast, lady.
…The ghost soldiers have formed a veritable solid wall between us and freedom, and all of them…it's hard to tell, but it feels like all of them have their eyes fixed squarely on the crown.
"Do you think they'll go away if I put it down?" Marcus says with a nervous laugh, and gently sets the crown down onto the throne.
It doesn't work, the soldiers are still there, and the whispers are still there, though it sounds like the noise is starting to build. I kind of wish that all these ghosts would talk eerily at the same time so I can make out what's being said.
After some seconds of close listening…
"Usurper" is the world of the day, I think. I'm not liking the direction of this development.
Every one of the ghost soldiers chant 'usurper' over and over again, while drawing their spectral weapons.
"Can we break through?" Orden asks as he eyes the exit. The exit that's currently behind a literal wall of blue.
"Not easily." His Lieutenant says. "But it should be doable."
…Y'know, I'm now uncomfortable with how much I'm not looking at the ceiling. In literally every standoff situation like this something always drops down from the ceiling.
I am now very scared to look at the ceiling because
We look at the ceiling. There is a pair of glowing blue eyes looking down at us.
Oh god dammit
Fus!
Of course some shit like this hapPENS
The eyes suddenly descend, and the Draugur Overlord descends with its greataxe. It lands with such speed that nobody (apart from its target) even registers.
MOTHER FUCKER
The Draugur Overlord drops like an anvil on top of Aria, who parries/evades the attack and gets her sword broken in the process.
Wow that thing is
Roh Dah!
FAACK
The Overlord fires his unrelenting shout in our direction. Fortunately, it's not our first rodeo, so as soon as we see him look our way we crouch (bringing the girls down with us) and throw up layers of wards. We also accidentally bonk Mell into the ground.
The blast blows the wards clean out of the water, but the low stance helped make sure nobody got airborne. Also as soon as his blast ended Aria stuck her bent sword in him.
The biggest issue with these long dungeon crawls is the fact that our equipment just doesn't last. Draugur by themselves are chewy, but their armor (old as it may be) still hurts blades. Add that to the fact that we had to stick together with no real chance to retreat, and we end up with this situation where basically everyone is either on their last weapon or else needed to salvage from the Draugur. Our guys are no exception either.
Also I should really be more focused on what's going on in front of me instead of being distracted by fear.
Aria is fighting the Overlord with a looted Draugur longsword, and they're dancing dangerously close to where I am. The rest of the two companies have formed a defensive circle against the ghosts, who are all calling things like "usurper!" or "treason!" and the such. Fortunately Skyrim ghosts are not Cyrodiil ghosts and can be harmed by non-silver weapons like normal.
…Unfortunately it doesn't look like they're dying.
We watch as Jake cleaves through five ghosts with one swing. The blue energy of the ghosts rises up to the ceiling and stays there like a cloud.
Getting some real Raid Boss vibes out of that ghost energy.
Initially, I think either Orden or Marcus wanted us to make a fighting retreat, but since they're basically cutting down the ghosts like wheat they've decided against it.
Pang!
Jake's greatsword snaps right through the middle. Fortunately he's using a looted Draugur one.
…
…
We basically watch the fight from the center of the ring and help out every now and then with blasts of magic as everyone else does all the heavy lifting.
It takes a little while, but Aria gets the advantage against the Draugur Overlord and then basically never lets up. She's constantly weaving in and out against it, slashing wherever she can reach, and then blasting it with magic whenever her offhand is free.
She doublehands when going in for an attack, and when she's recovering she takes whichever is her offhand and shoots some fire at it.
She also, whenever she gets the chance, switches between the looted Draugur sword and a normal Steel sword, which she's been keeping as a reserve to maintain its edge. The Overlord tries to shout a few times, but she's so fast and so good at judging distances that every time it opens its mouth it gets skewered in said mouth. You'd think that once would be enough, but eh.
A few rounds of dominating action against the Overlord later, she stabs it through the skull (and helmet) with her bad sword, slices off its head with her good one, then torches the body with a blast of fire.
Afterwards, she joins the main line and helps out against the ghosts. She's awesome like that.
And we are…
Healing. The establishment of a front line means that wounded units can now cycle to the center of the camp, where us healer types help patch them up. For some reason, healing doesn't seem to work as well when they're struck by ghost weapons, I don't know why.
Mell, I should note, has gone so far off the edge of terror that she's stopped caring about the ghosts, and can do her job of being a chemist without problems.
…
Eventually, the ghosts stop coming.
"God awful fight." Marcus summarizes.
As far as I could tell it was impossible to parry or block a ghost weapon, so…yeah, I agree. They went down easy, though.
"Good thing numbers were all they had." Jake says and looks up at the thundercloud of ghost…things, hovering above us. "So should we get out of here or wait to see what that's going to turn into?" He says in a faux-light voice.
"Jake's right." Orden nods. "Let's move." He takes the crown (he's the closest) and we all beeline for the exit.
The exit, as it turns out, is a gentle slope, up to…what would otherwise be a spiral wooden staircase, except the staircase has completely rotted away, leaving just a…stone tube? What's a spiral staircase when the staircase has broken away?
"Fuck." Marcus says as we lamely stare at the exit door like five stories above our head. "Now what?"
Orden shrugs. "Unless anyone's got some rope, we're taking the long way back."
…We're a band of a hundred-some people and literally NOBODY has the requisite fifty feet of rope? What is this sacrilege?
You have no rope either.
I know, shush. We also have nothing to tie the proverbial rope onto (nor a grappling hook), so that's also a thing.
…though…
We stand and stare at the stone wall for a moment. The concentration on our face is enough to cause Marcus to wave to the rest of the 101 and get them to be silent. Orden, catching his drift, does the same for his men.
…I can probably do something about this. "Mell, pot me."
"I don't have any more." Mell says. "You drank them all."
…I did, didn't I? "Oh yeah." I put my hand on the wall. I should have enough juice recovered for a test run at least.
We focus and channel some transmutation. There's a slight rumble, and an outcropping of rock begins to grow at roughly our knee height. It keeps growing until we run out of mana.
The end result is a piece of stone about a foot long. Let's see here…
We stand on it.
Seems to be able to hold my weight, though I'm pretty sure I'm the lightest person here except maybe Mell and my kids. Let's see…
We look for the biggest looking person in attendance.
Dude seems to be a part of the vanguard. "Hey, you, big guy with the greataxe. Come over here and stand on this thing." Imperial Vanguard.
He looks to Orden, who gives him the head jerk of affirmation™, and he does as he's told. A few little hops later and the stair seems to hold firm just fine.
Yay. "Ok, now give me…however long this is going to take."
Over the course of the next thirty minutes, we create a series of stairs up to the exit.
It's not a very comfortable climb; each step of the stairs is about a foot and a half away from the next. I had to make sure I had enough mana to make a way out and for the…whatever the fuck, is going on back in the throne room. Nothing happened (as far as our scouts could tell) so that's good. Sucks for whoever comes down here later, but eh.
Either way, with the staircase created, the troops were able to slowly make their way up to the door and exit the spiral not-staircase. The girls in particular needed some help to get up properly due to their shorter legs.
Past the spiral notcase is a…uncomfortably steep climb upwards that ends in another set of hefty metal doors. I make the climb easier by sinking bits of earth to make a staircase. Climbing up is pretty easy while climbing down is gonna be a death sentence. I like it. Kinda.
Ultimately, the gates outwards need five or six people to shove open, and finally…finally…we're outside again.
So…final tally.
The Imperial Force sent two companies to this place and about…eighty? Still live.
The 101 had a hundred people, and we're down to, uh…seventy-ish? Hard to do a headcount right now.
Silver lining: a vast majority of fatalities in the Imperial forces happened before we arrived, so at least I can feel like I did the best I could.
"At least we've gotten the reward." The Imperial Captain sighs as she nestles the crown into a strongbox. "Break camp! We're leaving!"
…
It's basically midnight by the time we escape, but nobody wants to be here any longer, so pack up was fast and efficient (reasonably) and around an hour later we all fuck off back towards Whiterun.
I'm really tired.
…
[3rd Person Camera]
…
Orden trails the Warwolf's wagon with his immediate Lieutenants in tow. He watches as Ash lays out cloth and material on the wagon, bed down with his girls, and falls asleep.
"What an exceptional group." Lieutenant A commends. "The two of them easily accounted for half of our men." She mimes swooning. "Truly, an exception."
"The reputation of the Mountain was, if anything else, understated." Lieutenant B nods. "I had heard of a warrior from Whiterun with unparalleled power, but the real thing puts those rumors to shame."
"And that Aria girl." Lieutenant C chips in. "How is it possible that we've never heard of her?"
"And that healer." Lieutenant D adds. "Is he actually a healer?" He vividly remembers watching the man take an ax to the back while concentrated on healing and not even flinch.
Ash had taken something like 37 hits during the entirety of the dungeon crawl while concentrating on lifesaving and did not notice a single one of them. It was actually why Jake had Warwolf move closer to the center by the time they hit the boss stage.
"I heard from their captain that the man is a blacksmith by trade." Lieutenant A says.
"A learned man with a skilled trade?" Lieutenant B nearly laughs if he wasn't trying to be quiet. "Is he disowned or something?"
"Regardless." Orden cuts across them. "Make it known to the troops that not a single one of them is to talk about that healer."
Three of the four lieutenants understood the reason and nods readily. The fourth one (Lt. C) goes "why?"
"If it becomes known that a healer of that caliber is within Imperial ranks, then it's guaranteed that the Dominion will be involved." Orden explains. "I don't plan to make it any easier for them to steal talent from us any more than the fucking Concordat has already done."
"Understood." Lieutenant C salutes.
…
…
[1st Person Camera]
…
…
Ugh. Worst sleep I've ever gotten. Dreamt of nothing but undead and sadness.
Well, I'm awake and it seems to be something like noon now, so…time to get up.
So we do.
"Oh, you're up." Aria says and then not-so-subtly glances at the pile of fubar swords and armor bits that we have. "So…"
"That's gonna have to wait for camp, I think." I look around. The two companies are recovering spirits, so that's good. We're still traveling together and are likely to split by the time we return to Whiterun. Though…I feel like we can probably stand to go a little faster.
Let's see…me and Mell are the only ones sitting in the cart. Aria's driving, Jake's trying to teach a gaggle of Imperial and 101 dudes on how to be Awesome while…one…two…seven girls listen in.
I'm hammering this "he's got a harem" joke to the ground, really. Of the seven girls, only one of them (the Healer Apprentice) is there specifically for Jake. The rest probably want to get together with him too, but improving their combat ability is primarily why they're there.
Anyways.
…
…
The trip back to Whiterun took comparatively less time owing to fairer weather (5 days total), during which I did my duty of making sure everybody's weapons are of a usable grade. Everybody except the special ones that I made, which is…uh, just Jake's greatsword, actually, the rest are all high quality normal weapons.
The greatsword, by virtue of being a special build, is unrecoverable.
…Or, it could have been a special build. I don't quite remember. The point is, I tried to heat it up to beat it back straight during camp one night and it rather crisply broke in two. So…is that good or bad? I'm not sure.
Either way, I need to remake his sword.
…After spending the perk points I got from that dungeon crawl.
…After taking like a million naps because god dammit five days isn't enough.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
Author Notes:
If I had a brain I would have broken this up into multiple chapters.
But then you'd have to make the fight longer.
Pah, sidequests.