Chapter 23: The Blizzard Part 1

The intemperate winds were at height after nightfall. Vilkas could feel the snow beginning to climb up his calf, but he kept still and quiet, with the shivering company of Ria, Torvar, Njada and Athis at his side. Ralof stood across the narrow pathway, leaning up against the wall and squinting up towards the main gates.

Small icicles formed to Vilkas's face and hair. He tried to fight the chill, but awaiting the unknown in a frigid and raging blizzard was bringing him closer to his threshold. He looked to his whelps, who bore the likeness of rattling corpses at his side— not speaking and frozen to their huddling stance. He squinted and yelled over the wind to Ralof, "It's been hours! What if they don't come to Windhelm and we freeze to death?"

Ralof wrangled a reply, "Patience, kinsman! Look on the bright side. Maybe the blizzard steered them away. I'd rather suffer frostbite than a vampire bite. Stay strong."

Vilkas paid close attention to Ria and Athis, who were vulnerable to the elements being non-native to Skyrim. The two of them a shambles, with Njada holding Ria tightly to keep her shaking frame warm. Athis had his arms crossed his chest and head bowed— pulling his cloak over his face. He barked aloud for them to hear, "Athis, Ria! Seek shelter in one of the homes! Now!"

Ria tore herself from Njada, "No! It's okay, I can take it!"

Athis croaked, "I'm not leaving! All due respect, Vilkas. But we stick together, remember?"

"Even a Nord will freeze to death in this storm." Vilkas hollered, his frozen hair falling to his face, "You two need to seek warmth!"

Ria and Athis said simultaneously, "No!" Athis continued in a quake of his voice, "My shield-siblings suffer, I suffer."

Ralof shivered a smile and remarked, "Hardy warriors you got, you should be proud."

"Hardy or stupid… I'm still not sure…"

"You're going to need bravery at your side tonight, Vilkas. We all are."

"Yeah, if the vampires are daft enough to come back… and by the looks of it…"

Then crashes of lightning shook over the walls, and it carried the hallowed screams of men. Clashing of metal in echo, even in the blizzard's winds. The metal gates began to rattle. Vilkas, Ralof and the whelps lifted from their chill at the screams of battle outside the walls. Suddenly a slight amount of warmth returned. The warmth was the product of rushing blood. Their hearts pumping faster to the glimpses of orange and white lighting up the misty air above the bridge. As the sound of war grew louder, they readied for a fight till now was only weighted in suspicion.

Ralof said surely, "They're here…"

Over the wall and through the portcullis, the war waged with blizzard winds blowing a gale. Stormcloaks thrashed their swords against oncoming vampires, but no match against the destruction of magic. The soldiers became disorientated in the throwing cold, which hid vampire stealth well. Jarl Ulfric and Galmar stayed their defence to the front of the war, relentlessly whipping weapons against opponents. More vampires came from the darkness, and Ulfric's eyes glimmered blue and he parted his mouth.

"FUS… RO… DAH!"

His Shout sent the vampires flying back into the darkness, "Fall back with the defences now, Galmar!"

They ran back through the foot high snow, and to Isran, who used the Stendarr's Aura, lighting a way for the soldiers. A single throw of his hammer would wallop two or three— smashing the vampires to pulp into snow. He was purely in the element of war, especially against vampires. He'd easily lift his ward spells to deflect spell attacks. All his barbaric finesse supplemented in Agmaer, who would take a pinch of Isran's tactics for his own in battle. Even the smallest knowledge from Isran was expertise. He wasn't equipped to down two or three in one swipe of his silver axe, but Agmaer's speed behind his weapon kept the numbers close behind his mentor's death count. Even more might to Isran and Agmaer's advantage as Ulfric and Galmar came to their defence.

Vampires were struck by steel bolts from Sorine and Durak's crossbows up on the tower. Newly advanced weaponry, able to deliver twice the power and speed than before Sorine's tinkering got to them. Even with such improved mechanic, they still struggled in keeping sights on the vampires among the low visibility of the blizzard.

Durak snarled angrily, "Of course we come to defend this damn frozen wasteland in the middle of a superstorm. RAGH!" He shot another arrow to a vampire pursuing Isran with a lightning spell.

Sorine cried out as she took aim, "Look for the red eyes! They'll give you a true shot!"

They were soon joined by Aela, "If they have a spell ready in their hands, they are not Stormcloak, Companion or Dawnguard! They are not the masters of this blizzard, we are!" Aela ran up to the front of the tower, shooting her arrows like the flutter of eyelids. Every shot struck a vampire, stunning Sorine and Durak to her skill.

"Don't just stand around," Aela shrieked at the two, "Kill them all!"

Farkas and Skjor fought at the gates with Gunmar, destroying any stragglers that managed to fight through the Stormcloak and Dawnguard defences. The three together were an impenetrable barricade. Each vampire that tried to pass, was cut into ribbons or walloped into a sack of broken bones. Their defence was strong until the vampire warlocks caught up to their fledglings. One vampire used a summoning spell before the three, bringing to life a gargoyle. Tall and sinewy, a roar that screamed over the winds— horrifying all who heard it.

"Shor's bones," Skjor's mouth fell, "What is that thing?!"

Farkas gritted his teeth, "I've fought one before, and I still don't know the answer. Watch out!"

The creature lunged and they jumped into the piles of snow on their sides. The gargoyle collided into the portcullis, making it rattle. Skjor shot up to charge it, then it toppled him to the ground.

"Skjor!"

Farkas rammed his sword into the monster's back. It squalled and fell to Skjor's side. He stood with hoarse breath, "For a minute there… I thought the wolf was my only saviour. Lest I should know better, with you around."

Gunmar called, "Two more!"

One charged to Skjor. It met a swift end by Farkas's sword— stabbing into its hind leg. Gunmar finished it off with his axe into the monsters' skull. A gargoyle thrashed into Skjor's cheek, who ripped his Skyforge blade over its brawny neck. The steel decapitated the monsters head clear off.

Dead soldiers in blue robes were starting to clutter the bridge warfare. Death hounds eviscerated them in packs, with frostbite spiders advancing across the bridge ledges. Aela was trying to shoot down as many crawlers as she could. The spiders convoyed to the wall.

"SHOOT THE SPIDERS!" Ulfric hollered to his men, "THEY ARE CLIMBING THE WALLS! KILL THE MONSTERS NOW!"

Archers shot down only a few of the beasts. The others escaped out of view through blankets of spraying snow. A few frostbite spiders managed to get up to the peak of the wall, alarming Jarl Ulfric.

"SOUND THE HORN!"

A Stormcloak at the top of the tower quickly dispatched two vampires on his clamour for the horn. Another vampire sprinted up the steps to the soldier, who grabbed it over his scabbard. It powered a wail over the walls of Windhelm, alerting the soldiers inside of the breach. The alarm cut out shortly after it sound, but struck the alertness of Vilkas and Ralof.

Ralof bellowed to his soldiers, "OVER THE SOUTH WALL! STAND FAST!"

Through thick mist, eight legged crawlers climbed down the wall peak. Arrows flew with a prayer against the climate, the certainty of true aim only when their bodies fell lifeless. Vilkas' aim landed right in a creature's scraggly limb, but not enough to deter the seven it had left. Most arrows were duped by the low visibility, and the spiders descended down to the Stone Quarter.

"DRAW YOUR WEAPONS!! FIGHT!"

Ralof commanded to his comrades as he drew his war axe. Vilkas went charging through the heights of snow, his whelps not far behind. Stormcloak soldiers pursued the creatures in turn. The frostbite spiders spat their acidic venom, felling a few in agony. Vilkas wouldn't let this hinder his students. "This is your moment now! Squash them like the insects they are!"

Vilkas threw his sword over head, crashing over a frostbite spider and cutting it in half. As he tried to pry his sword back, another dug its teeth into his calf. A whoosh of pain he wasn't a stranger to. He kicked it off his leg. Ralof came to his aid, slamming his boot into the back of the body and dug his sword down the shell. They shared a brief nod, a silent thanks, before their attention drove to more spiders crawling over the walls.

Ralof cursed, "I hate these damn things! Too many eyes!"

Ria pulled out her bow— shooting them down to the floor of the Stone Quarter in breaks of snow. Njada roared blows with her shield like a war hammer, and Athis dispatching any that would survive her wallops. Torvar stomped his boot over their hard shells like they were in fact just pestering insects, slushing innards into ice. Another spider crawled over his back and bit into his shoulder. Torvar's cry got Vilkas's attention. He rushed over to Torvar, but the snow and winds kept him from running fast enough. He pulled out his bow and shot it— making it fly off Torvar's back.

"Hey!" Vilkas pulled Torvar up, "Walk it off, and stay vigilant to your backside, always! You understand?"

Torvar released his bleeding shoulder, "Yes… sir."

Vilkas slapped Torvar on the back and quickly went to the front of the wall, aiding the guard and his whelps fight off the frostbite spiders.

Njada laughed maniacally as she slashed her axe and bashed her shield against the creatures, thoroughly enjoying the carnage.

Athis fought to her backside, "What in Sheogorath's beard is wrong with you, woman?! How can you laugh in a time like this?"

"Are you kidding?!" Njada repeatedly struck them into air in glee. "You know how long we've been waiting for this? This is it! We are finally doing what we've been training to do for years! We're damn Companions, Athis! Savour it!"

She pulled up a spider by its pedipalps and ripped off its head with another fervent laugh belting out.

The numbers of vampires began to surpass that of Windhelm. More vampires came from the bridge, leading a Dunmer vampire, wearing regal armour and a long black cape. His midnight hair tied back in a tail. His eyes glowed brighter than the others. Angrier. Like live coals in a stove. He strode forward as if he could glide on air. The harshest of the blizzard did not hinder him. Aela caught a glimpse of the vampire and her spine shivered. Suddenly a face from her recurring nightmares in the horrors of Castle Volkihar. The Dunmer vampire was a face she had only seen in the pit of Harkon's lair. He approached the chaos in aloofness, almost a belittling swagger. He raised his hand and said to his minions, "I hope you've all practiced your Conjuration spells… after me now!"

Together they raised their own. They summoned an indigo orb, opening small portals of Oblivion— bringing forth a flurry of flame atronachs. The Stormcloaks shot at the Daedra but didn't scathe them. The creatures did not retaliate. Instead, they soared to the main gates— zipping passed soldiers. Aela aimed her bow at one flame atronach, striking it in the chest. It kept on still, treating Aela's attack like a seldom splinter. Jarl Ulfric and Galmar went aghast at why the creatures were huddling to the gates, clasping onto the portcullis. Like evening flies along a window pane. The soldiers repeatedly fired at the flame atronachs, including Farkas, Skjor and Gunmar.

Aela's heart crept to her throat. She wasn't certain, but she wouldn't waste a moment longer to wager. "No… DON'T SHOOT THEM! NO! STOP!" She ran down the steps of the tower. "DON'T SHOOT THE ATRONACHS!"

To her horror one fell, and unbeknownst to the brawny Stormcloaks, the atronach exploded. This explosion killed another, then another. Then all fell and their explosions escalated into a frenzy of combustion, turning the stone to molten.

It blasted Farkas, Skjor, Gunmar, and the nearby Stormcloaks back. The portcullis and gates blew to smithereens, creating a smouldering opening to the city. The vampires rallied in cheers, where the remaining fighters of Windhelm mortified to see it. Jarl Ulfric felt his knees buckle, and Galmar roared, "Nooo!"

Farkas, Skjor and Gunmar creeped to their feet, their eyes unforgiving to what had happened.

To the other side of the wall, Vilkas, Ralof, the whelps and soldiers were all scattered and fallen from the blast, barely conscious. Only the throttling chill and ringing in their ears. The city was breached, and all who fought to oppose this from becoming reality were ambushed in failure.

Feran Sadri wrinkled his pointed nose in a fanged grin, "Go on, then! Take the city!"

Vilkas crawled up from ground, his ears still shrilling from the blast. When his hearing returned, whipping of furious winds came first, then the cluttering of footsteps sprawling through the main gates. When he was able to assemble the events, a rallying panic pushed him to his feet. The gate exploded, and the footsteps were not Stormcloak, but Volkihar boots.

Troll's blood... they got in!

Vilkas swiped his sword up, not even coordinating who he would hit. But he slashed into a vampire's throat. He blocked an ice spike with a ward, and used his bow to shoot an arrow through the caster's chest. Ralof and the whelps slowly began to reassemble themselves.

Vilkas hollered, "Vampires are in the city! Stand fast!"

Ralof shot up from the snow piles and dived his sword into a vampire's chest. Another leapt onto his back digging their teeth into his neck. He cried out before Vilkas shot this vampire with an arrow to the head. Those who hadn't recovered from the blast were now feasted on in the frigid strife. In a matter of chaotic moments, the Stone Quarter was waged in war. Ralof roared and charged the beasts head on with his kin. Vilkas quickly scoured for his whelps. The blizzard still granting dismal visibility, making it difficult for him to spot the likeness of Ria, Torvar, Athis and Njada in the snow.

He called out among the chaos of battle, "TORVAR! ATHIS! NJADA! RIA! RETREAT TO ME, NOW!"

Athis and Njada came to Vilkas with horrified shock painted to their faces. Torvar and Ria were still unseen. Vilkas ordered, "Find Ria and Torvar!" A vampire lunged from the opaque mists. Njada stepped before Vilkas and bashed it back with her shield. Athis finished the beast with his blade.

The numbers of Stormcloak, Companion and Dawnguard charged into the city after the vampires, bringing the battle within the Stone Quarter. Ulfric bellowed to his comrades, "THEY WANT IN THE CITY SO DAMN BADLY! LET'S BID THEM THE 'STORMCLOAK' WELCOME!"

Ulfric raised his blade with a battle cry as Stormcloaks and Galmar did the same. They charged through the bridge— slashing and slicing vampires in bitter retribution. Farkas hurried quickly behind, fearing for his brother. Aela and Skjor snatched their hands together. Instinctual in the act. They ran in behind, with the Dawnguard numbers quickly thereafter.

The storm raged worse— it was at its pivotal climax, blinding all in an intense sheet of white. Vilkas persevered, undauntedly trudging through the thickness and cold to find his whelps. He could hear horrified shrills from a woman within the white. He ran to the sound, knowing it were no townsfolk or Stormcloak. It was Ria. She lay wrestling a vampire from biting into her neck. Vilkas kicked the beast off her, then plummeted his greatsword down into their gullet. He hastily pulled Ria up, who was a rattling and blubbering picture to what she was before. The newest recruit before Mimzi. Still a spring chicken with little practice in real battle. Now thrown in a den of wolves.

Vilkas demanded, "Where's Torvar?!"

Ria sputtered, her shock still a vice on her tongue. Vilkas snatched her by the shoulders, "Ria!"

"I don't know! He was there before the blast, then he was… gone! Oh, gods… where is Torvar?!"

Vilkas snapped to his whelps, "Stay close to my back! Hold onto my shoulder and your shield-sibling, we do not lose each other, understand?! We find Torvar!"

Njada clasped onto Vilkas's shoulder, with Athis clasping hers and Ria his. They pursued in a linked chain through the blinding and spraying snow. Red eyes loomed into the white, with clashes of steel accompanying pained cries. They persisted through the mists for any sign of Torvar. Vilkas cried out into the mists, "TORVAR!"

Vilkas whipped his sword at a vampire, but the creature dodged back. He thrashed again, with the vampire dodging with ease— taunting a laugh. An arrow flew passed their heads and into the vampire.

Athis stressed, "B'vek!"

"Come on!" Vilkas called passed his shoulder, "Stay with me!"

Farkas scrambled towards Valunstrad to protect the barricades to the Palace of Kings. Aela and Skjor followed swiftly behind.

"I can't see a damn thing!" Farkas exclaimed.

Aela ran up the steps to the entrance, "You have your smell, Farkas! Use it! You do that, you'll know exactly where the vampires are!"

He focused his smell, and a strong stench of vampire rose to his right. He immediately unsheathed his greatsword and twirled it. It gutted vampire flesh and a scream like the snap of a whip. Jarl Ulfric and Galmar joined their defence, with Isran shooting his crossbow at incoming vampires before the steps.

Skjor said to Ulfric, "Jarl! They… they got through the walls… I didn't think…"

"None of us thought it would happen!" Galmar roared angrily, "But it's happening! Now we have to fight to the death to prevent them from taking the city, and our people with it! You were hired for this, man!"

Ulfric assured, "We don't stop defending the city, not til dawn!"

Isran yelled back, "We may have to! We wait till dawn, they will flee, I've seen it!"

"No," intruded Aela. "They aren't just here on Harkon's orders, they are here with their leader. We kill the leader, they'll scatter."

Skjor baffled, "And who's their leader?"

Aela scowled hatefully and pulled her arrow in as she shot a pursuing vampire, "His name is Feran Sadri. Dunmer vampire. He's in gothic robes. He's from Castle Volkihar."

Suddenly throws of magic came flying from the pathway to the cemetery. Lightning, fire and ice, colliding into masses of vampires, turning them into dust. The gaggle of warriors before the barricade perplexed to the commotion. A man in robes and a long silver beard with an enchanted staff.

The man stepped closer to them, his robes flying against the blizzard winds. He casted another spell, summoning a frost atronach before the Palace of King's bailey.

Ulfric revelled, "Wuunferth the Unliving!"

"That deranged son of a bitch!" Galmar cheered.

"Who is that?!" raised Farkas.

"My court wizard," Ulfric addressed, "Windhelm isn't totally void of magic…"

The court wizard struck down another vampire, allowing his frost atronach to do the rest of the quelling as he went to Jarl Ulfric's call.

"Lord Ulfric," Wuunferth addressed, "I apologize for my doubts, I never imagined vampires would blast through the walls! Just tell me where you need me, and I'll incinerate these beasts into charcoal."

Ulfric demanded to him, "Help my men at the Stone Quarter! Don't let the vampires through the gates!"

"Yes, right away, my lord," Wuunferth obliged, casting over himself an oakflesh spell into battle as he summoned destructive arcane.

Jarl Ulfric commanded, "Aela and Farkas, you'll be greater use defending the Valunstrad homes from invasion and preserving the standing stones of our cemetery. Go down, and kill any beast that lurk there."

Farkas raged, "I need to find my brother!"

"Your brother is fighting a war, Farkas, as are you. Now go!" Skjor berated.

Aela looked to Skjor in worry, "I don't feel right leaving my Harbinger."

Skjor assured, "I'll be fine… go with Farkas…"

With on last glance of uncertainty, Aela and Farkas reluctantly left into the Valunstrad entrance. Slaying and shooting vampires as they did so.

The chaos of war raged in separate quarters. Vilkas and the whelps still looked aimlessly for Torvar, struggling against the pulling and piercing elements. Ice spikes came throwing towards the four. Athis summoned a ward spell— a greater ward, protecting the four from the blasts of magic. A spell he had taken to study after Whiterun's attack. Vilkas used his smell to try and find Torvar, without mistaking it for another human. He caught a faint scent of sweat and an overabundance of mead in the blood. "Follow me!"

They linked again and followed Vilkas into an alleyway buried in thick snow. They trudged through, packing snow into the lip of their boots. The scent of Torvar grew stronger, carried with the sound of a weak heartbeat. He glimmered in relief that Torvar was alive. As he came closer to a fallen slope off the roof of a home, it blocked the path, and the smell and sound of a heart beating only grew.

"Where are we going?!" Athis asked hotly.

"He's here!" Vilkas began digging into the snow. "He's here!"

Njada exclaimed, "What? How can you know?"

"Help me, you idiots!" Vilkas raged to his Companions, who hurriedly helped Vilkas dig through the snow slope. The more they dug, the more intense the smell became. Vilkas gasped at a hand deep into the snow pile, "Found him! Help me get him out!"

The whelps went aghast at Torvar in the snow, lifeless and cold, but his heart still barely beating. They pulled at his armour and limbs— ripping him out. Torvar was unconscious, and Vilkas quickly threw him over his shoulder. Torvar was heavy and brawny, but Vilkas endured, clamouring into an abandoned home. He smashed the window and pushed in Torvar. Himself and the other whelps followed.

Inside the cemetery, guardsmen were overrun by vampire fledglings, greeting Aela and Farkas's arrival. Stormcloak soldiers were ripped asunder by magic. Others preyed on like cattle. Farkas charged into the chaos with his greatsword and pierced the vampires in midst of feeding. Blood splattered and painted the snow as he slashed his blade to and fro through vampire's stomachs and throats. Then a searing pain accompanied by numbing spread through his body. His joints locked. He screamed in agony before buckling to his knees. The symptoms coincided with a lightning strike. The vampires laughed in surrounding him. Aela pried for a number of arrows in her hand. She held them through spaces between her fingers and jumped up to the railing of the stairwell— sliding down the icy stone rim as she shot each arrow in precision, hitting each vampire in the chest or head in a matter of seconds. She slid off the railing and planted her boots to the ground.

She knelt down to Farkas, who was down on one knee trying to breathe. Aela helped him off the ground. "Any other man would be face down in the snow unable to move, you're just made of stronger stock…"

"That hurt like a bitch." Farkas snarled, clawing up to his feet.

"Yet you didn't succumb, Ice-Brain. You've got this?"

"Yeah…" Farkas breathed heavily, "Now I'm even angrier than I was before."

"Good, use the rage, Farkas."

A tepid rumble shook under their feet. Large mounds of snow fell off the tower infrastructure, creating a small avalanche overtop the cemetery, burying Aela, Farkas, the Stormcloaks and vampires under layers of snow. The pressure of the snow weighted heavily. Their vision was almost black. Aela fought through the snow, trying to push herself up for air. Every flourish of her feet and arms sent her deeper. Snow pillowed into her face, sending a crippling ache. A cold hand gripped her ankle, following a sharp sting of a vampire bite into her calf. Aela kicked her boot, stomping the monster in the head. It tried to grab onto her again, where she fought through the snow and pried for the knife in her boot. She jammed her blade into the monster's neck while still scrambling to the top of the snow pile. Her fatigue and warmth fleeted as the cold disorientated her. Suddenly a hand pried for her and pulled her up. Farkas pushed away the snow. Aela gasped for air as she came back up to the blowing winds and hollering clashes of battle.

Farkas bellowed, "Hold on!"

He gripped her hand and pulled her through waist high snow to the cemetery steps. Loud stomps came thundering through the passageway from the Stone Quarter, carried by the frost atronach. Aela and Farkas gripped the wall letting it pass. It thudded into stonework that broke to pieces upon impact— stomping its feet of boulders and razor sharp ice arms into the snow. Eliminating the vampires like pests in the dirt.