Chapter 28: Wolf Queen
The threat to Dragon's-Bridge was, in fact, a threat to all life from profane magics. Because of course it was, Jon thought. He wanted to know how in oblivion they survived it all. Because their gods favor them, he replied to himself. Because they send idiots like him to stumble into these threats.
After the initial cave, a few necromancers, a vampire even and their summons, Jon and Lydia sat at the edge of Wolf skull Cavern. Built into it was a humble keep, a couple towers connected by a wall. On top of one of those towers an evil source of purple-blue light was pulling swirling energy into it from smaller sources near by. Within the central glow was the figure of a woman, and there were her followers around tending to whatever they were doing.
The summoners on the central tower of the structure were chanting in an unknown tongue. Initially the subject of the summons conversed back seemingly happy to take part in the ritual. Then her tone shifted, and perhaps the summoners were actually binding her in some way. Jon couldn't make it out, and it wasn't in the knowledge of language Meridia had given him. It would take him too long to shift though all that was Magnus from his eye to see if he knew it.
"Jon. They're trying to summon Potema. Bad, very bad."
"You understand that?"
"No, but Potema is a name I recognize in their chants. The Wolf Queen of Solitude. Mad, she was, and a powerful necromancer."
"FUS RO DAH" Jon cut the whisper, and used his outside voice inside the cavern. He spoke full force in reply to the inconsequential conversation taking place on top the tower.
The summoners and even Potema didn't know what hit them. Potema had a good idea but the attack was lighting fast and she was currently trapped, "FUS RO DAH"
Jon launched another cutting remark, this time at the base of the tower and keep structure. Nothing stood before the Laat Dovahkiin, Living Tenth Divine. The first bout of unrelenting force struck the top of the tower, and blasted away the ritual the summoners were preforming. A couple were caught in it, and the others screamed as they clutched their ears in a vain attempt to sooth their busted drums. Then the second attack stuck the tower and began collapsing it and everything around it, including the cavern itself.
The undead and other minions not caught in the blasts began to stir, and try and face the threat, but it mattered not as Jon and Lydia began a retreat as soon as they confirmed the second shout struck true. It mattered not for their enemies, as the mountain collapsed on them before they truly knew what was happening.
The proceeding cave also partially collapsed, but the path was clear and the lovers were swift as a cold wind though it. Lydia especially since she was on the outing in just her robes. She would need to be used to fighting without her heavy armor, in case she ever did have to fight without it. It was only good sense to not completely rely on a single tool or set of skills.
They exited the cave without much fan fair into the mountain chill, stepping over the original skeletons they dropped on the way in. A quick whistle, and their steeds saw them mounted; On their way back to Dragon's-Bridge. There was a little more fanfare when they got there in the later afternoon. The man from court had boasted that an Arch-Mage, the Thane in robes would personally investigate the cave with his Lady. Then those boasts connected to whispers. The Arch-Mage was the Thane in robes from Whiterun. He was one of two Dragon slayers from there.
"Dovahkiin! Dovahkiin! Dovahkiin!" The town chanted, with even some of the Nord legionaries taking part. That Dragon slaying Thane, the one in robes, was also the Dragonborn, the very same who turned back the latest dragon attack from the mountain forests, and he had come to personally to smite whatever fools were terrifying decent honest folk with their foul deeds.
"Fus Ro Dah!" Jon chanted back to give them a show. A more humble wave of force leapt in to the sky, in a safe direction, to the wild cheers of the crowd along the road. About a thousand called the place home. If the Thalmor didn't formally know who he was now, they would. And good, he thought. He still had many words he wanted to say to them. Whatever the Imperial spooks he eyed in the crowd wanted to think, they could think and attempt to act on as well. He wouldn't hold it against Tullius, as most of his operations during the Eugenics Wars were technically off the books. He was the spook, in some ways, working for spooks.
They continued up the main road after passing the forming party to celebrate the victory, over whomever it was, and Jon and Lydia even saw Sam in a crowd of revelers walking to it. He gave them a snarky smile and wave, which they returned on their way to report.
After passing they saw a couple guardsmen on horses trotting quickly, then breaking into a run as soon as they positively identified their targets, Jon and Lydia. As soon as they got close enough they slowed up.
Then one spoke up, "Dragonborn, Lady. There is a situation in the city. I'm afraid you're required at court. Please follow us."
"You needn't be. Lead the way guardsman." Jon said.
They quickly turned their mounts, and snapped the reigns. Jon and Lydia more softly urged their steeds on, and the party thundered though the center of the main road. In the main gate was not only a man door in one side, but a larger door for shipments and horses to pass though when required. It was flung open and they shot though it, only needing to duck some due to their heights. The same was done for the last main gate leading into the Blue Quarter, and they dismounted to have their steeds taken to the palace stables for royal treatment.
They guardsmen then simply got out of their way as they rushed into the Blue Palace to answer the call they had been given. Up the stairs there was a more private session of court taking place, with only Elisif, her Steward, Housecarl standing guard, attendant waiting dutifully, and now that vampire standing in the open, hood over her eyes as Jon and Lydia wore.
"Arch-Dragon-Mage-Born." Elisif and her Steward tried to say at the same time. She quickly shot him a dirty look, now out from under her mourning cowl but still darkly dressed. She couldn't be seen as someone's, anyone's, puppet, figurehead. She had to take charge in things, and speak for herself.
Falk bowed his head to let his Jarl speak. She said, "Arch-Mage. There's been an incident in the Hall of the dead. Our priest Styrr says that Potema is being resurrected. We would all be dead if not for her still being only of spirit. I find the timing of your investigation of Wolf skull Cave and this incident suspicious."
Jon saluted and said, "Well we did find Potema being resurrected there as well."
There were a couple nervous chuckles from the small court, and even a smile from the undead. Jon attacked, "Though my question is what that vampire had to do with this? Do you know she is undead? I will certainly incinerate her right now if she has cast some illusion on this court."
Then there was dead science, and the smile on the vampire was wider, showing even a bit of fang. Elisif slowly replied, "Yes. This inner circle knows of her nature."
"Well I simply find it suspicious that her every word was against the prudence of caution given what we found there. A bunch of necromancers, their undead conjures, and even a vampire, perhaps an accomplice. Finally, the Wolf Queen that stands as question to this court." He knew it was flimsy, guilt by an association, but her words did indeed corroborate it, and she was a fucking vampire just standing there like that wasn't a problem. Though that left him open to the obvious retort. He still had to return the accusation, however.
"I also corroborated your identity, child. How do you think a vampire earns such station in open society? Keeps it for as long as I have? Perhaps by betraying a Mad Wolf Queen? Hmm?"
"Once a traitor always a traitor." Lydia growled.
"Ha, I would be the first one sh-"
"Enough." Elisif plainly said. She didn't raise her voice, or inflect her tone, but the barbs came to an immediate stop all the same.
She continued, "My apologies. I did not mean to insinuate an accusation, Arch-Mage."
"I offer mine in return, your grace." Jon said with a small salute again.
She nodded at the expected reply, then continued, "You found Potema being summoned on your investigation."
"Indeed. I know not the particulars, as the chants were in a language we knew not. Only recognized the name, we did." Jon said archaically to Elisif's light smile. Thus lightening the mood of the entire court in the uncertain time, "We disrupted the ritual by collapsing the cavern in on it. You obviously know I am Dragonborn, and have such power on my tongue. I mean not to dredge painful memories for you, your grace."
She closed her eyes and controlled herself, the mood turning back down, then said, "You have, but I take no offense. That is certainly a proper use of the Thu'um. I would prefer you not do the same to our hall of the dead. My Torygg is in there. Go forth, Arch-Mage, and slay the Mad Wolf Queen before she brings ruination to my fair realm."
His fist thumped again against his chest and his head titled down respectfully, "By your will, your grace. If I may, perhaps Lady Lydia could stay, should the situation become unconstrained to the hall."
He looked hesitantly over to his Lady, and he saw her think before nodding at the logic of the request. If Potema bested her Divine sword, she would certainly best her. It would be best to stay near the Jarl, so she may at least escape with distraction should that be required, though she doubted it would.
Elisif nodded, "I would welcome the escort. Thank you, Lady Lydia, for agreeing."
"Then I take to your quest, your grace." Jon said before placing a kiss on his Lady's hand, giving her a cocky grin as well.
He turned on his heels and marched out the Blue Palace. He didn't notice too much panic, or really any at all. They perhaps didn't want to cause such a thing, as there was not much they could do if Potema returned to her full glory out of the blue. He did notice a few extra guards and legionaries at the hall of the dead. The building was large, and in the center of the bend of natural arch as it turned to pass over the bay, and land in the Fjords.
"Dragonborn, you may enter by order of the Queen." One of the guard at the door said before the legionnaire beside him could challenge. There was definitely a battle taking place at some level between the occupier and occupied.
Jon nodded and happily entered the hall. The ground floor was obviously a chapel, overflow for worshipers that couldn't not fit in or simply did not go into the temple itself. It was currently buzzing with troops and guards, benches replaces with tables and papers, orders being passed, preparations all over the city being coordinated from the ad hoc command center. It was obvious Tullius used the opportunity to train just that. Lessons learned from previous urban warfare. Just because the keep was lost, doesn't mean the battle is over.
Tullius and Alidis both noticed and both tired to get his attention. His dragon eyes easily caught it, and the sideways looks they gave each other. Jon smirked as he approached and tuned his superior senses to their words over the din.
"I'll remind you I outrank you Captain. The city is under Legion control per being apart of the Empire during a rebellion. Terms the Jarl agreed too by not rebelling."
"And if the Castle Dour is lost like you said we were pretending, then you wont be around to give orders at all."
Tullius winced slightly. That was an irrefutable point, and even a compliment. The Nord could count on him dying honorably at least. It was why he followed any of his orders at all, of course. He shot back, "Neither would you, in fairness."
"Ha! A fair point indeed, General." Alidis replied.
Jon made his way up and said, "Gentlemen. I hear Potema wants to go a second round."
"Second?" Tullius asked.
"The lights at the cave. They were trying to summon her there as well."
"She must be a fool to challenge the Dragonborn twice." Alidis boasted. Tullius was happy for the confirmation bias. Jon was happy the guard finally stopped trying to worship his every step and breath. He was the Dragonborn, that was it.
Tullius then said, "She's currently holed up in the basement. We have a guard down their barricading the entrance to the catacombs, battle mages mostly for obvious reasons. We're willing to support you, Thane."
Jon squinted under his hood. Doing that would basically take a side outright, even if only a few knew and never spoke of it. It felt like a matter of honor, even if it wasn't really. He had personal reasons for planning Ulfric's demise, not because he was some tool for an Empire. He would only fight for what he believed in.
Tullius saw the contemplation, on the lower half of his face at least. He spoke up, "I need people that know that this mammoth shit looks like, Thane. It's my firm belief this is the kind of mammoth shit the Thalmor have been stockpiling for the past 30 years to unleash upon us. The kind of mammoth shit that endangers everyone equally, and they don't give a damn if you know their beliefs."
He conceded the battle, "Weapons of mass destruction."
"A perfect description. Will you agree? I don't consider this any kind of support for the Empire, our side."
"One person. I won't claim to command a legion, and that's basically how it works for those in my immediate vicinity."
"Hadvar is already leading the contingent down there." Tullius easily said.
Jon nodded, "Captain, I mean to offense to the brave Solitude guard."
"None is taken Dragonborn; We know of Hadvar, and that he's already stood next to you, against the Worm no less."
He nodded again with a smile, then turned as he did in court and made way for the basement. Down there it looked like a more traditional hall of the dead, with work areas for the resident priest to ply their trade. It was crowded with Legionaries placing and itemizing various goods and supplies. Tullius went all out, it seemed, for the training scenario. There wouldn't be much they could do, he must have decided, if Potema came at them with full power. That didn't stop him from trying to get his troops to do anything that distracted them from that fact.
It was a tight fit to squeeze though to where he smelled Hadvar deep in the humble underground of the hall. Jon's inherent power was pumping though the illusion enchantment on his Stormcrown, and he passed by unnoticed to most of the guard and legionaries even in the confines he was squeezing though. The priest of Arkay was down there was well, none to happy it seemed so many soldiers had overtaken his place of power and worship, but Potema herself was scheming in the catacombs, and he knew he didn't have much of a choice. What other was there than to plug the entrances with as many men and women at arms as they could?
He did notice the large Redguard in robes attempting to sneak past. It was a man he recognized by word, and when the man got close enough to talk to he said, "Ah, Dragonborn, it is in honor to host you, despite the circumstances."
Jon stopped to give the man a bit of time, it was his hall after all. He replied, "Please, just Thane is fine. Hail Priest."
The priest smiled, "Have they informed you of what must be done, Thane?"
"What must be done?" Jon asked.
"Potema's bones must be brought forth to be sanctified by Arkay. She is still in spirit form, but she needs help to truly return to the living. Her bones are the natural anchor to facilitate that."
"And if I simply burn her bones in place with Dragon fire?" Jon didn't know that shout, and that was fine to him. He didn't feel like explaining the Chain of Events centered Magnus shooting a load of primordial power into him. His nature as a Living Divine on top.
The priest took to a questioning expression, then said, "Yes actually, I suspect that would work. Your Thu'um is Divine in nature and would do much the same, though it would destroy the bones."
"That's probably for the best."
"Indeed. She would have no chance to return, now or even in the future. My apologies, Thane. I am a priest of Arkay, and all deserve proper burials and interment under his grace, even those like Potema. However you are Chosen of Akatosh, and have the right to decide that."
"Unnecessary priest. Thank you for the council."
"Jon." Hadvar had caught the conversation and made way though the tight basement of the hall to join it.
Jon took the offered arm and said, "Hadvar my friend, we must stop meeting under circumstances so dire."
"Ha! Indeed my friend. What's the plan here?"
"You and I will assault. Watch my back, focus on observing. Tullius needs people that knows what this shit looks like up close."
Hadvar nodded, "Aye. Not the first time he's made mention of that. The problem is usually your sendin people to die, and picking though the survivors heads. Like Helgan. Not a good way to gain knowledge of threats like this."
"No. It is not. Lets go, Hadvar."
"One last thing, Thane. A key to Potema's sanctum, deep in the catacombs. Go with Arkay, both of ye." The priest dipped his head and brought his hands up after grabbing and passing off the key, officially invoking to his god.
Jon took the lead, and now he was not using any of his tricks. The legionaries captain being behind him only urged them to the side further. It was a clear path to he barricade, and troops from both contingents were ripping them away. The followers of Potema had busted a hole in the wall to reach the catacombs, a bypass no doubt though the door. Jon passed though with Hadvar not far behind in his Consortium armor, helmet now on and Imperial straight steel out.
They entered a storeroom that had been overturned of its furniture and crates. Hadvar said, "We grabbed what we could quick. Most of it went to the barricade you saw."
Jon nodded while feeling the place out, detecting no enemies yet though the first part of the catacombs. No this would be a battle of words, and perhaps wills at first. He slowly reached to his back and pulled out his new tool, the Dawnbraker. His Dragon's-Bane was adequate, and in many ways a better sword, but even it could not smite undead down as Merdia's offering did. Its straight blade with angular tip was golden, and its hilt was circular, with a warm glow radiating from where the blade turned to tang. Every so often along it where red wisps, the base of so far invisible fire.
"Fancy Steel you got there Jon." Hadvar said, with some hurt to his pride in his voice.
Jon smirked, "Deadric artifact, for smiting undead. My other blade is ancient sky forded dragon bone."
Hadvar chuckled, getting past the wounds to his pride easily against his Dragonborn battle brother. He said, "I got some fire on my steel, and I can do more than a small gout of flame. Part of the new standards. Everyone has an enchanted blade, and everyone needs to do at least a basic attacking spell and a basic healing spell, and do em well."
"More than campfire and distraction. Sticking to just a couple basic spells is good. Anyone can do them well if they practice enough."
"Aye. I've got your back, battle brother."
Jon nodded and started forward down the steps to enter the catacombs proper. There were some pieces left behind, and some rubble even from whatever blasted the door in, perhaps the power of whatever invocations they did originally. The lower room quickly turned into a hall, and at the back of it was a carved relief of the Wolf Queen. Beside were metal spikes blocking the way.
He was about to open informal debate when the Wolf Queen seized the initiative out from under him. Strands of her power snaked from her mural and attempted to overtake him, "My hero! One who claims a warrior heart, my hero! That prevented my binding has returned to my fold. A Dragonborn no less. They songs that will be written of us!"
Jon huffed, his Dragon's-Breath, Divine power falling to the floor in contempt. Her power receded some, then shot forward past him and into Hadvar. She then attempted to distract with her words, "I have much to thank you for child. When you die here, you will have a place at my side. You will be a fine implement for my will, and for my pleasure."
"Foul bitch FUS ROH." Jon snapped his head to the side and blasted the stakes. His attack was not one of power, but of control. The chaotic resonance waves he had intoned sliced the metal rods to pieces, some of the ends even glowing hot due to the basic physics of the interaction.
He quickly glanced back to Hadvar, who had just given his head a good shake, "Are you alright, battle brother?"
"Aye. Take more than that to get me so stupid. The whore should have bought me some mead first." Hadvar said.
Jon laughed merrily, not bothering to control his voice so much. Divine power fell from his breath, and the walls of the crypt shook in response. Hadvar joined with a chuckled as well, with growing anticipation of seeing what he would do to the Mad Wolf Queen. They continued though the crypt, and part seemingly more abandoned than the previous part. More dust, more rubble, more overturning.
There were even a few Draugr, awoken by the rumbling of a god. They approached cautiously at first, then stopped dead when the Storm's-Lord lifted his hood and threw it back off. In his glory were dragon eyes, one emerald, one hazel, and on his head was the Stormcrown itself. Hadvar knew what it was, without even seeing the horns on the front. One would be tilted from battle damage. The Draugr did not, but they still felt the authority radiating from the artifact, the blood of a dragon staining one of it's tips. That much they knew even in their petty state.
They didn't have the chance to kneel before the Storm's-Lord commanded them, "Kein Fahdons"
They did not kneel to their war god. They turned their ancient steel the other way and marched forward against the pretender claiming their souls. The blue hate in their eyes got hotter, fanned by the words of the god standing with them for death and glory. The next room had some vampires laying in ambush, but as soon as the small host charged though, and their god right behind, the host grew larger with every Draugr that saw. They continued deeper, killing any who stood in the way, and recruiting the lost sons and daughters of Skyrim corrupted to evil causes.
There were a few traps in the way, but as the Draugr joint the host, they found themselves invigorated in the presence of their god. They knew the pitfalls of the crypt they had occupied for so long, and easily avoided the traps on the ground. A couple gates spinning in their mounting, only opening when aligned, required Jon's intervention. The host had hopped they would be blessed with the Thu'um, to see them shouted down, but alas that was his prerogative, and they dutifully marched forward when they way was clear.
The force had grown to almost a couple dozen at that point, as we well overwhelming any other undead in the way. It did not help the summons beside them often cut them down before they could even react. A couple Atronachs were tried by the enemy, but they turned against tier masters too for their patron. The lesser Daedra may have been simpler creatures, but they could sill pass word and boast among each other.
Jon used the key he had been given and unlocked Potema's personal sanctum. There were a few more enemies in the way, more Draugr joining the cause, and so far Potema had made no more reply in words. They last few Draugr however stayed loyal to their master, with more purple in their hateful eyes directly flowing from Potema herself. They unfortunately had to be cut down as they were. The as Jon and Hadvar passed in the rear they would char the corpses with magic so they could not be risen again.
At the end of the last chamber stood the door the foul power was leaking from. Jon saw the light from the cracks of the ornately carved iron door, and he could smell the stench of Potema's corruption.
"FUS" And the door flung open to the groans of the host, the rattling of their weapons and bones. They rushed forwards in front, and spread out in the larger chambers almost into a proper battle line. They were still chanting and rattling in challenge.
Potema was above the center of the floor, swirling in her malevolent energy. Every once in a while an arc of lighting would lash out; Sometimes hitting the wall, sometimes on of the host though they kept their discipline.
"Not even these brave souls follow your command, Potema. You are supposed to be the queen of the necromancers or something, correct?"
"You will not find my personal guard so easily swayed Dragonborn!" The tombs opened, and their occupants stepped into their graves.
These occupants, however, were certainly sturdier than the usual. They were lords or personal advisors, powerful in life, and still powerful in death. They even knew the Thu'um, "Fus Ro Dah!"
The host began a charge, and so they were met by the guard. Their lines were blasted, but they were not so powerful, being only Draugr in the end. Jon and Hadvar did not get close to that fray. Even after the initial strike, his forces still outnumbered Potema, and they go their own boost standing with their god. They met her death lords, and her direct assaults as brave warriors did. Jon threw his offhand up and started putting his own power down range. Sky blue lighting lashed at Potema's sphere of energy, and it wasn't long to begin overpowering her.
She responded by cutting all attacks and contracting into a denser light, before snaking her way to the other end of the chamber. Hadvar was behind Jon, and was simply watching the rear in case she brought forces from the way they came. There wasn't much else he could do, and couldn't figure out what they would do in the event of a crisis like he was observing.
Jon waited a moment before seeing what she would do next. His host was loosing ground to the more powerful undead they were now at even numbers with. He thought to join the fight in earnest, but then waited just a moment more in case she was waiting for that. Then Potema made her move.
She was no longer a sprite of corrupted energy loosely in the form of a woman, but now a ghost leading the charge of her reserve forces. She was about to shout; Cut though the center and break for the Dragonborn, attempting to enunciate the first word they all got hung up on when he made his play.
"FUS-" She heaved out a little more powerfully than others have.
"WULD" Dawnbraker was aimed, and Jon fired away.
He was a whirl of wind though the battle, and his aim was true when he connected with his target. She was rushing forward, and it was elementary physics again that one him his battle. The Deadric artifact pierced though where her heart would have been, and there was a small moment of silence where she started with her ghostly eyes into Jon's dragon eyes. He have her a cocky smirk before Meridia began filling the chambers with a merry laugh.
"I MUST THANK YOU STORM'S-LORD! MY LIGHT WILL FINALLY PURGE YOUR CORRUPTION, POTEMA!" Meridia spit in her normal tone.
Potema began a scream, and it was cut off as white fire blanketed the blade, and her form not long after. When she was gone her personal guard collapsed where they were, their strings finally cut. His host was battered, but not yet beaten. Their eyes lit up and they raised their weapons to celebrate the victory of their god, their friend.
"Bo Wah Sovngarde Fun Niin Hi Grah Voth Fin Laat Dovahkiin." Jon more causally said. There was some power falling from his lips, and a small rumble in the ground around, but not as forceful as he had been to some others. There was a final chant from the host, before they clattered to the floor where they stood was well. Jon could almost see their souls leave, and gain their former glory as they did.
Hadvar stood quietly inspecting the aftermath of the battle, while Jon threw his hood back up and took to her personal chamber. Her bones were sitting neatly on her throne, and he didn't hesitate to light them up with a gout of sky blue flame. He charred them to ashes, and burned the rest of the throne back. Then he took her coin and gems as well, a decent hoard we would have to leave most of in the bank. It easily paid his house for the investment it had made and then some.
He exited the chamber, and spoke to Hadvar as he walked back to him though the corpses, "She just got deleted by Meridia, and her bones are now ash by primordial fire, courtesy of Magnus. If that doesn't do her in permanently, there's nothing more I can do about it."
Hadvar chuckled a couple times, then got more serious again, "Really been though it, haven't yah Jon. Great Heroes of an age usually don't have the easiest of lots in life."
"Thank you for understanding, my friend. I blessed my shield on accident, turned her into what a Dragonborn normally is, and every day I regret that I did not understand what I was doing. She didn't even have a chance to ask, or refuse."
Hadvar scoffed, "I doubt any Nord woman worth her salt would turn down a blessing like that. Oblivion, any woman or man."
"Doesn't make it right, or me any less stupidly arrogant. Fuck, her parents died and I'm sure with how this fucking place words it was to put her in my path. So she's standing a watch while I name a sword to boosts peoples moral against their ancient masters returned to kill them all." Jon grimaced out.
"Maybe not, Jon. But you are what you are, whatever you are. Only thing you can do is push forward. Akatosh wouldn't have given you your power if he didn't think you were worthy of it, and we all make mistakes, gods included perhaps."
"Yeah. Thanks. I needed to hear that. Let's get the fuck out of here. I'm beginning to hate tombs filled with undead."
"Beginning to?" Hadvar said. They both chuckled as they made way from the exit again to report. The Wolf Queen of Skyrim had been put to rest for good. He didn't like what he knew he had to ask his Lady when he returned to her, and she wouldn't like it either. Skyrim needed a warrior leader in the tumultuous times ahead.