Chapitre 427: Whiterun's Daedra Troubles...
"MOOOOORTAAAAALLLLS!"
The marketplace of Whiterun quickly descends into chaos as a wave of Dremora slams into the hastily erected Vigilant shield wall, the few men skilled in Restoration magic doing their best to keep everyone alive, but not managing to do all that much since most injuries were severed limbs and heads.
Their steel armour was but rigid paper against the Dremora's Daedric weaponry, which cut through the plates, skin, and bone with ease, and that's not even mentioning the ridiculous strength the Dremora themselves could exert behind their strikes.
The Vigilant shield wall soon falls, with even the few Whiterun guards nearby being unable to do anything, their arrows bouncing off of the Daedric armour as if they'd struck sheer stone.
The Bannered Mare goes up in flames as Prixus and Eola step out of it, the latter looking at the chaos caused with mild shock. She'd simply not anticipated Sanguine's artifact to be this strong...
Namira's ring was powerful too, but it didn't grant immediate effects like the Rose did. Sure, she got stronger with every person's flesh she ate and gained stupidly effective health and stamina regeneration, but she didn't think she could fight against all these Dremora at once...
She pauses, looking at the side of Prixus' face while tightly gripping her blade, his flesh would probably taste amazing... Fortunately for the Imperial mage, Eola's thoughts are cut off as an arrow buries itself in her neck, courtesy of Aela the Huntress who was standing atop the stairs leading to the marketplace.
"H-holy!?" Prixus is taken aback as he sees his companion drop, blood spewing from her fatal injury... Or, what looked like a fatal injury. Eola pries the arrow from her throat and vomits blood, the wound healing at a visible pace...
*Shoook!*
Prixus ducks under another arrow and jabs the Rose at the annoying archer, shooting a fireball that strikes the stone arch above her, shattering it and causing the thing to collapse, Aela barely avoids the rubble as she throws herself to the side. "DAMN ARCHER! WE'LL SEE HOW FUNNY YOU ARE WHEN I SHOVE MY ARROW-" he's cut off as an arrow hits him in the shoulder, causing him to stumble into the half-burning wall of the Bannered Mare.
"SERVANTS CHARGE! FIGHT FOR YOUR MASTER!" he roars, enraged at being harmed by something as mundane as an arrow.
With renewed vigour, the Dremora slaughter the last of the Whiterun guards and sprint up the steps... Only to be met by the other Companions who spring from the rubble, ambushing the bloodthirsty Daedra.
Farkas and Vilkas both run separate Dremora in, their blades finding purchase in the weak, flexible parts of the armour. Despite the damage though, the Dremora act more like undead than people in response to pain, allowing them to ignore and immediately counter-attack.
*Clank!*
Shakeesh deflects a blow meant for Farkas, but no one is around to block the attack that bears down on Vilkas, punching through the man's Skyforged Steel armour and cutting off his left arm. "AAARGH!"
"BROTHER! DAMN, YOU!" Farkas roars, kicking his Dremora from his greatsword and leaping towards his brother, cutting the attacking Dremora's hands off at the wrists where the armour meets the gauntlets.
"QUICK! GET VILKAS A HEALER!!"
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While the Companions and Whiterun guard reinforcements fight off the Dremora, Prixus and Eola make their way to the gate, cutting down the few defenders as they escape to evade the angry response that'd undoubtedly be coming their way.
Eola cuts the ears off of the people she kills, her Daedra enhanced strength allowing her to easily cut a swathe out of the city. She and Prixus steal two horses and flee West, towards Markarth where the Shrine of Molag Bal apparently was.
Hours later, the find a cave and set up camp inside, leaving Eola and Prixus alone...
Prixus had thought that they would start getting down and dirty again like last night, but Eola had other plans...
*Clank!*
Her dagger collides with something metallic as she tries to shove the blade into Prixus' gut. The mage grinning as he blasts her away with a spray of lightning.
"W-what is that?" Eola mutters, as Prixus tears away his sliced up robe, revealing the large steel plate he'd been wearing over his stomach.
"I spent enough time in you to know you, Eola... That you aim for the gut to preserve the 'good flesh' is but one fact I know." he chuckles as he taps his makeshift metal armour, "Thanks for the fuck, but I'd rather be able to my cock in your mouth more than once." he says as he summons searingly hot fire into his hands, launching them at Eola as she attempts to recover from the lightning she'd just endured.
She throws herself to the side, allowing her to dodge one of the projectiles, but the other hits her leg, burning it black to the bone. Worst of all, the flames severely limit how fast her regeneration would heal such a wound... "Y-you! Piece of shit! I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS!"
Prixus scoffs, "You forget, you already had my head... Many times... In many hol-"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Eola shrieks as she throws herself towards him with her on usable leg... Only to fall short as her dagger hits the ground next to Prixus's boot.
"Goodbye, Eola." he offers as he bathes the woman in fire, scorching her body black as she screams out in agony, only stopping when her voice finally quiets.
"Well, she was fun while she lasted." the mage mutters to himself as he goes to recover the ring of Namira... Only for his fingers to go through the ring, removing the illusion and revealing that the scorched hand had one of its fingers severed... "W-what!? Where did it go!?"
Outside the cave, an invisible Morag Tong assassin flees under the light of the Blood Moon, the Ring of Namira dissipating in their hand as it's sent to Mephala.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
Niggross
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