Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 406: Chapter XXVI: A Rainy Day



(Alor's POV)

A mere second passed as the startled group stared at my personal centurion construct before Janus Hassildor, still holding the bannered lance high, rode past it without a single care "Stop this squabble in the name of your Emperor!"

The guards wisely backed off, still keeping the semblance of their shieldwall but lowering their weapons, while the rebels were... less than cooperative.

The only one among their number who was either influential or wealthy enough to be equipped with a suit of chainmail over the same gambeson the rest wore, quickly waving for them to retreat but also to prepare for a battle as their hook-like spears were quickly pointed in our direction in addition to the confused guards.

'Those gambesons must be hell to wear in this rain.' I noted idly as I rode up to Hassildor's side, Anondor and his subordinates marching in behind me, their own weapons readied in a far more organized wall of halberds.

The rebel leader was not content to simply let us waltz in "Do not fear my friends!" He called out "We will not fall before these servants of the corrupt!"

He looked just about ready to start a full on charge, no doubt leading his entire group (close to a hundred as I noted quickly) to their imminent deaths.

And I had no patience for such idiocy.

Snapping my fingers while grasping on my silver spear, I felt my Magicka momentarily sizzle under the heavy rain before a ball of vibrant but not quite golden flame formed in my palm, the slightest nudge of my mind sending the bolt flying forward and bursting the idiot's head in an instant.

I retracted my outstretched hand, pausing just briefly enough for the rebels to realize exactly what their situation was, and then I spoke "I will give you all one chance to drop your weapons and surrender yourselves into imperial custody. Anyone not willing to see sense may step forward and join this idiot."

The helmet of the leader, sent flying up by my spell, falling atop his corpse with a muffled bang only served to add to the threat.

They wisely dropped their weapons then, only a few of them protesting as Hassildor's mercenaries stepped in to take the weapons and separate them so they couldn't suddenly change their minds.

"Now." I spoke with a false smile "Will someone please tell me why the city is on fire?"

"Yes." Hassildor all but hissed "I too find myself curious" read: absolutely livid "About what led to all this." He waved his hand around.

Only a few moments passed before the guardsmen split their shields and what looked to be their leader, if the plumed helmet was any indication, stepped out "Sargent Tolus" He introduced himself with a salute "We aren't exactly sure what happened in truth but the Count was to hold a speech to the people at the old statue today, had us all increase readiness just in case something happened."

The soldier directed a rather scathing look at the rebels "An explosion of fire came from the north, exactly where the statue is at that. The only reason we aren't sure if the Count even lives is that this bastard" He spits on the ground near the steaming corpse "Kept shouting how his lordship ordered all of them killed and how they were fighting for their lives."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"A failed assassination then." I mutter with Hassildor giving an agreeing nod.

"Pardon the question, m'lords." The Sargent spoke on "But who exactly are you?"

"Janus Hassildor." The vampire answered before I could, he was the nominal leader of this mission.

The soldier immediately gawked at him "That is... a powerful name 'round these parts. This some kind of jest?"

"My father wished me named after my ancestor." The vampire lied easily, immediately earning the attention of almost every soldier and even the rebels.

"We are here under direct imperial orders." I cut in "I am Alor of House Dagoth, serving as representative of its honored lord." My words too earned a fair bit of attention but not nearly as much as Hassildor's.

"Now that we have that cleared up" I turned to the rebels "What exactly happened?"

Another mildly better armed rebel stepped forward, the two fighters next to him staring at him with weapons ready "We don't know exactly." The man said honestly "We was told to be ready as today was supposed to be the day we overthrew the Count but then everything went to shit."

He did not look even a bit apologetic about his language, an oddity south of Skyrim. "Right." I nodded "We seem to be wasting time here then." My eyes met the Sargent's "Can you keep these prisoners safe and contained here?"

He gave the looming centurion a nervous look before clearing his throat "Should be able to 'ole them up in the gatehouse, but it ain't going to be comfortable."

"I do not need them comfortable I need them out of the way." I point out and he nods, already getting his men, some of whom looked just about ready to murder some of the prisoners for no doubt having killed some of their comrades but that was not really my problem at this

moment.

"We should get moving." Hassildor spoke up "We do not have the manpower to outright pacify the city so cutting off the head of the snake seems to be the only option. We can gather guards on the way to bolster our numbers."

"What about convincing them?" I ask the immediately obvious question "We can't waste too much time with each group."

"That is true." The vampire frowns and turns to the Sargent "Soldier, can you spare us a few of your men?"

The man turned back a bit surprised but quickly calmed himself and looked around a moment "I can spare three, any more and the prisoners might start getting ideas."

"It will have to do." Hassildor nods and the soldier immediately picks out a trio of his subordinates "We have wasted enough time here" He mutters and raises his lance just a bit higher "Forward!"

I would have preferred we made a bit more of a plan but I suppose just following the fighting works as well.

Waving my hand and tapping on my ring, I have Anondor relay the same order, our column swiftly being headed by my centurion.

Knowing my lord he will probably give me the automaton outright if I do well so I may as well come up with a name...

(Ceix's POV)

"JUST DIE YOU BASTARD!" Ferontius screams at me as he forces me back with wild furious strikes, every single part of his mind and body focused only on killing me.

I want to curse back at him, ask him how it feels to have his family killed in front of him, but his attacks are too many and too powerful for me to have the time or the focus as I am made to take a step after retreating step.

The puddles of water made by the torrential rain not helping me were not helping in that endeavor but my enemy suffered much the same thankfully, his movements far too furious for him to actually care about getting stuck in the mud as the sudden misalignment of his slashes saved my life more than once.

He overswung and I immediately took the chance this gave me to stab forward, cutting into the weaker armor of his armpit and drawing blood only to immediately be pushed back by a vicious pommel strike aiming to break my hand.

Lorain attempted to aid me but even his orcish fury combined with our numbers were not enough to easily kill Ferontius' elite guards.

The bastard seemed to know it as well as he gave not a single moment's care to my fellow revolutionaries and kept pressing his attack at me, practically throwing me around like a ragdoll as I attempted to stay alive.

'I would not die like this!' I roared within, somehow finding the strength to push an overhead strike aside and buying a moment to retaliate, my rapier flashing in another stab as I aimed

for one of his eyes.

Ferontius flinched back, making me only half blind him instead of killing him outright, immediately retaliating with his free hand and throwing me away as I had my breath taken

from me.

Cursing inwardly, I rolled in the mud and swiftly took my stance before he could capitalize.

We had been fighting for hours, Ferontius' hounds chasing after us with a single minded focus while the city was thankfully saved from the spreading flames by the downpour.

I barely had moments to rest before the maddened aristocrat would quite literally bash through wooden walls with his armored face just so he could get at me faster.

I was covered in cuts, most of my armor barely functional and my sword chipped in numerous spots but I would not surrender.

And neither would my people, as where our strength faltered our numbers prevailed, slowly bleeding Ferntius' elites while my fellow revolutionaries seemed numberless.

I knew it to be false but I also knew the value of perception, so all I had to do was remain standing long enough for the soldiers to break and then I could have my re- no, then I would have my liberty, my revolution.

We had been pushed back to the market square, hundreds were dead on both sides already and the fighting had spread to the entirety of the city yet the rain did not let up for one moment.

It almost felt as if the heavens wept as I swiftly downed a stamina potion, the final one I managed to save up for in fact.

Ferontius looked battered, glaring at me with his one remaining eye as his powerfully enchanted equipment allowed him to fight far beyond what I ever could without potions.

I realized this battle was coming close to its conclusion, and he seemed to as well as he threw himself into another lunge with his bastard sword, barely giving me a moment to dodge yet

still leaving me with a shallow cut on my shoulder.

Just where my head was a moment ago.

I struck back with a feinting pierce before changing my attack into a slash at his hand, the

armor of which had gotten battered away when he punched through a wall to grab at me.

The slash cut into his flesh, making him roar in pain and hopefully giving me a chance to

finish him off.

Unfortunately he did anything but give me a chance as he threw his sword at me, cutting into my sword hand as I dodged and making me stumble on a puddle of water and fall on the

ground. Ferontius grabbed a piece of a nearby stall, the thin wooden board snapped just correctly to look like a stake meant for my heart.

I immediately clutched at my spare dagger 'I would not fall here!' I roared inwardly 'I would bring prosperity to these lands no matter how many bastards like Ferontius I had to kill!' Time seemed to slow down as I felt a pair of ancient eyes focus on me, their stare one of pure disdain as I was shown exactly just how utterly insignificant I was in truth.

Still, the creature... No, the god looking down at me seemed to have found some amusement

in my actions, his disdain turning into a bark of coarse laughter as I felt my left hand be

suddenly strengthened.

Listening to my instincts I roared in defiance as I suddenly sat up, shoving the dagger into Ferontius' armored chest, the weapon instantly bursting into a form of terrifying lightning and exploding the man's chest in an instant.

A silence descended onto the market square as I slowly managed to stand up, Lorain's strong grip soon joining my efforts as he pulled me up by my uninjured shoulder. Momentarily coughing due to the pain in my chest I straightened up and looked over the now silent battlefield. Most of the elite guards were dead while a number of them had fallen back to the far side of the square, still keeping their formation even if four out of five were dead and the rest were at least lightly injured.

My fellow freedom fighters looked at me with awe in their eyes but all I could feel in my heart

was dread as the godly stare remained stuck to me and I was faced with small hills of the dead,

most of whom wore strips of crimson on their armor.

My strips of crimson.

Still, even if the sacrifice was far greater than expected we had won, we would have our-

Just as I was attempting to encourage myself into speaking up I heard a rumble to the side...

No, to call it the march of massive footsteps joined with that of horse hooves and armored boots would be more accurate.

Before I could realize what was going on the sound of horses sped up and a group of my

freedom fighters reacted, forming up in front of me and Lorain as the mounted ones approached in a gallop.

It did not take a genius to realize they were charging at us.

The impromptu formation of spearmen and billmen was shattered near instantly as a small

force of heavily armored horsemen crashed through them, their leader impaling the leader of

the formation on a shining lance, rising it high a moment later as if it wasn't weighed down by the armored form of the corpse.

The shining banner fluttering from it slew my slowly rising sense of triumph far faster than

the death toll ever could.

For instead of the banner of Skingrad Ferontius had been desecrating for decades there swung the banner of the Empire itself, tall and proud and inevitably declaring our deaths. 'Aloncius promissed they would not know!' My eyes narrowed but I could do nothing. Before I could reorganize my men into some kind of fighting force I once more heard the

massive footsteps. Lorain stilled, turned to me with a fierce look in his eyes that said far more than words ever could... and charged.

Far faster than I could ever imagine, a massive form of a metal giant burst beside the mounted lancer, its hammer-like hand swinging at Lorain and striking him in the blink of an

eye.

The orc tried blocking but all that did was transfer the force into his hands before it travelled into his body, cracking every single bone he had above the pelvis and turning his upper body into chunks of meat a moment later.

My people did not fare better as heavily armored infantry struck into our northern flank, quickly joined by the remnants of Ferontius' elite guard, while our south was struck by what I could only guess were elven warriors all wielding enchanted weapons and armor.

I could barely manage to raise the remnant hilt of my dagger as they were slaughtered before

my very eyes.

A mere minute later, I was still barely standing, my form shaking from either rage or despair

as two riders closed in on me.

The lancer and a snow-pale elf, both of them glaring at me with pure hatred in their eyes.

"Worm." The elf spoke, the words somehow feeling foreign on his lips "Where are the

saboteurs and the vampire?"

'What vampire?'

He did not even wait for me to refuse him before I was struck with a blast of lightning sparks.

(Alor's POV)

The little bastard thought he could hesitate in answering, my crackling fingers proved him

wrong. We had managed to piece together most of what had happened from some of the guards and imprisoned rebels and the image was... less than ideal.

The reasoning behind the rebellion was sound, the Count was incompetent and the people

had the right to fight for themselves if it ever came to such things, such were the thoughts of my lord and he had far more experience in ruling than I.

They could have gone the legal route but such was not always possible as I was taught, but to

go 'full retard' as Lord Dagoth often put it and try and overthrow the entire system? That was

just taking things too far, doubly so since he failed to even take his own city without spilling a river of blood.

But what drew most of my attention were the rumors of another group helping them, a

certain clown fitting the description of my lord's target and a seeming apprentice of his.

That was not an opportunity I would ever allow myself to miss. My annoyance with this whole very preventable situation, seems to have made me channel just

a bit too much of my disgust into the spell, outright knocking the fool out and burning off a good chunk of his skin.

Without waiting for Hassildor to reprimand me, as he rightfully should, I immediately called out "Paladin, see to him."

Anondor did not wait, merely giving me a slightly concerned look before stepping forward and shoving a regeneration potion syringe into the idiot's throat, waiting only a moment before slapping him awake.

"Now." I spoke with a bit of a chill in my voice as the terrified man stared at me with wide, fearful eyes "I will ask you again, where are the saboteurs and the vampire?"

It merely took me knocking him out another six times before I got my answers.

Fill the bag

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