Thus, Michael's somewhat awkward meeting with Kodlak ended. The only other thing the Harbinger had said was that his membership with the Companions would come to an end if he did start causing problems... Which Michael thought was obvious...
With the problem of the Companions dealt with, Michael went to work getting things ready for his group's eventual departure. They already had most things ready, but he made sure to get extra pairs of warm clothes, as the further north they went the colder it would get. Not to mention that most things north were at a high elevation.
Eorlund had said that his armour would be completed in two more days, which left him with some downtime to throw away. Fortunately, he wouldn't be bored during this time, as the world seemed to want to grant him one last job with the Companions before he left.
He was having some drinks in Jorrvaskr when a single Whiterun guard rushed into the room panting. "Trolls! Trolls coming down from the Throat!" he exclaims fearfully.
"Again?" Farkas scoffs, "Didn't we wipe them all out four years ago?"
Aela shakes her head, "Thing's must have bred to regain their numbers. Not enough territory up the mountain so they come down here looking for more." she grabs a bow from a nearby weapons rack, "Well then, shall we get hunting?"
"Hell yeah! I've been waiting to do something for days!" Bureld cockily shouts but gets smacked in the back of his head by Jackle.
"If you start shouting like that while we're out there I'll put you down myself." she growls.
Vilkas glances over to Michael who'd just been watching all of this happen, "What about you? That magic of yours is sure to help... Most of our weapons don't have enchantments, so it'll be a battle of attrition, something most would fear against Trolls."
Michael shrugs and stands, "Sure, might as well help out before I go. Oh, I want some troll fat as well, I'd never hear the end of it if I forgot." he says and they both chuckle.
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The Companions, along with a small contingent of Whiterun guards make their way out of the city and towards the crossroads that sit on the opposite side of the river to the Throat of the World. By the time the group reached their destination, a fairly large group of Frost Trolls were already making their way over the bridge and towards the city.
"Shield-Brothers! Don't go off alone! Work with the men beside you! Frost Trolls are some of the toughest creatures in Skyrim, so don't risk yourself on something meaningless!"
The others in the group nod, the Companions each teaming up with a partner while the Whiterun guards stayed in one large group.
Michael was paired with Njada, the lady with facepaint who'd been riling up Bureld when he first arrived at Jorrvaskr. He'd wanted to be paired with Vilkas or Aela but, they had gone with Farkas and Skjor respectively.
He draws Derflinger from his waist and readies it as arrows fly over the haphazard shield wall that'd been created. It wouldn't be maintained of course, a single swipe from a troll could tear a man in half, so it wasn't worth trying to block them.
"You ready?"
Njada snorts, "I'm always ready for a fight."
Michael shakes his head, "No, I meant, are you ready to be shocked?" he retorts with a grin. Before she's able to say anything in reply, he points a finger forward and lines a couple of trolls up before casting "Laguna Blade!"
Everyone, including the group of trolls are taken off guard as a huge crack of lightning sounds out, colliding with the leading troll and burning a hole into its furred chest. A few arcs of blue lightning explode from its back and strike a few more behind it, killing two and crippling two more.
All eyes turn to Michael who was casually blowing smoke from the top of his finger, as if he hadn't almost shattered the eardrum of everyone nearby. Indeed, he's forced to dodge a backhand by Njada who's clutching her other ear with a grimace on her face, "YOU FUCKER! WARN ME NEXT TIME!" she shouts, but Michael wasn't sure if she intended to be so loud or if her volume level had been skewed by the thunderbolt...
"Whatever! There's still trolls left!" he replies loud enough for everyone else to hear, allowing everyone to refocus on their targets. While the Laguna Blade had killed and stunned a few, the sound of it seemed to have caused a few to frenzy.
Four Frost Trolls try to charge over the bridge, but Michael fires a Dragonslave spell at them, horribly burning them, but not being enough to kill them. Still, it should disable their regeneration until the others could finish them off... He was tempted to use Light Strike Array, but it was too slow and would probably destroy the bridge if he did.
The front line finally clashed with the Trolls however, Farkas backs out of the range of a troll's clawed hand while slashing at its torso, the wound was already beginning to heal however, despite how deeply it'd been injured.
Vilkas was ready to counterattack after his brother however, approaching from its side and thrusting his blade just under its floating rib, causing the beast to stumble and roar. With its attention now on Vilkas, Farkas continues the aggression, chopping his greatsword into its leg, bringing the beast to its knees and allowing for a quick execution.
The others were doing fine as well, Aela shooting arrows into the Troll's eyes as Skjor follows up while they're distracted. It was difficult to blind them due to the fact that they had three such eyes, but the pain was enough to draw their attention.
Most Inner-Circle members of the Companions worked like a finely oiled machine... The recruits however? Not so much...
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Jackle had been partnered with Bureld, the orc and the braggart barely tolerating each other's presence as they fought off a single Frost Troll. Neither was making good progress against it, with Bureld almost losing his head more than once from a frenzied swipe of its claws.
Luckily, Vilkas was well aware of the other member's weaknesses and had thus left the weaker links closer to the Whiterun guards. They sent arrows down at the Frost Troll the orc and braggart were fighting, distracting it just enough for the duo to begin hacking away at it as if they were felling a tree.
Once the creature fell to the ground with crippled legs, their battle with it was essentially over... The only thing left for them to do was finish it off, something that was actually pretty difficult during a battle... The duo was forced to ignore the slowly regenerating Frost Troll as another one breaks free from its battle with some guards and charges them.
Fortunately, the guards behind the duo manage to behead the downed Frost Troll before it could regenerate and attack the defenders from the back.
Shakeesh was also in the midst of fighting, his two Curved Skyforged Steel Swords cutting deep wounds into a Troll as it raises its arms in a weak attempt to defend itself. His attacks might not have been all that accurate or powerful, but he made up for it with speed. Given enough time he may even kill the thing with blood loss alone, an almost impossible feat against foes such as Trolls.
He was partnered with a short Wood Elf who made up for his small stature by wielding a heavy Skyforge Steel Greataxe, the head of which had been firmly planted in the Frost Troll's spine, disabling it from the legs down.
"Hah! Good hit Thausai!" Shakeesh exclaims, taking the opportunity to slash at the Troll's neck, all but severing its head barring the small bit of dangling flesh keeping it attached.
The elf grins at the praise, "You're not bad yourself, Keesh!"
"Don't call me that!"
Thausai laughs, "Sheesh, learn to lighten up!"
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The battle continues on with the Frost Troll's numbers quickly dwindling, the defending side had only lost one guard due to the man's negligence in battle, while another couple had been pretty grievously injured. Were potions not a thing, they would've died there and then.
As for Michael and Njada? They were still going strong, Michael himself becoming wreathed in flames from his skill Fiery Soul. Out of everyone, he'd been the one taking out the most Trolls... The only reason he hadn't done more was because he'd been assigned as Njada's Shield-Brother. Leaving her on her to potentially get killed was a huge no-no, and might even see him 'punished' by the others... Punished, meaning having his weapon hand cut off. Yeah, they took betrayal very, very seriously.
Fortunately, Njada wasn't a slouch in combat either. While not matching up to the Inner-Circle, she had potential. Allowing the duo to cut a swathe through the Trolls and thin out the numbers a bit so that the others could have an easier time.
Michael continued to use his magic, occasionally casting Dragonslave and Laguna blade when he could do so without harming his allies. Of course, he had to be mindful of his mana expenditure whenever he cast the latter spell, suffering mana exhaustion mid-fight would be a death sentence even for him.
Soon enough, the battle was over, Michael driving Derflinger through the mouth of the last Frost Troll, causing its large body to flop backwards dead.
The remaining warriors take one last look around the battlefield for enemies before releasing a shout of triumph, the Whiterun guards in particular cheering as if they'd just survived and won a world war...
Michael ignored them all, instead, quickly getting to work harvesting all the Troll Fat he could. For obvious reasons, people keep a good distance from him as he started hacking the corpses to pieces and harvesting the humanoid creature's tallow as if he were butchering pigs for bacon.
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To be honest, the reception they received when they got back to Whiterun wasn't what Michael had expected... Only the Battle-Born clan and the Grey-Mane clan actually gave a shit... Or maybe they were the only people who knew about the threat? Yeah, that seemed more likely, no point in causing the entire city to panic for a small army of Frost Trolls... Right?
Regardless, after a night of celebration, it was finally time to leave this place. Michael went up the steps to the Skyforge to collect the armour that Eorlund had made him, and boy, it was pretty good looking if he did say so himself.
The armour was completely black and made from half ebony scales and half ebony chainmail. The scales covered most vital areas, the chest, shoulders, forearms and back. While the chainmail covered areas that required a greater range of movement like his joints.
To Michael, it looked like a cross between the armour that the Dragon Priests wore and ebony plate amour(if it was made with scales). There was also an ebony scale skirt that reached just behind his knees to protect the weak areas of the armour, it opened up at the front however to make sure it didn't get in the way.
The only complaint Michael had, if any, was the lack of environmental protection, along with its lacking magical protection. Metal got cold incredibly quickly, which was the reason most Nord armours were fitted with many furs and padding. Eorlund also made sure to mention that while ebony was very suited to being enchanted, its magical conductivity also made its user somewhat vulnerable to magic... To most this would be a massive problem, requiring more resources to fix... But for Michael who had skills that granted magical resistance? It was only a footnote.
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