Soon enough, the expedition begins under the eyes of Surtr and under no one else's conversion, Kodlak Whitemane, Harbinger of the Companions. With the assistance of Brynjolf and High King Ulfric, the army's dire lack of supplies had been rectified, along with multiple depots being set up along the path to Skuldafn via the maps an anonymous scout had provided.
The army was on the move, most of it separated into smaller groups that raised splotchy white tarps over their heads whenever something passed over them attempting to camouflage themselves and prevent a dragon from spotting them.
The smaller groups were both to minimise the damage a spray of dragon fire would do, along with making operations easier by assigning one man in each as leader.
"Watch where you walk! One mistep could send your whole group down!" Kodlak shouts as the army scales up a perilous mountain ride. Everyone had been roped up with one another in case someone fell, which would allow them to be recovered instead of splattered.
There was a reason Skuldafn temple had remained hidden for thousands of years, and the lack of save passages was only one of component of this... Indeed, even Kodlak had underestimated the amount of wildlife an travel region would have.
They'd already lost a hundred and twenty good soldiers from a Frost Troll ambush, which was really more of some unlucky few stumbling into their den. The Companions were forced to deal with it when it became clear the regular soldiery couldn't work out the blade from the handle of the swords, at least, when it came to dealing with monsters who had stupidly fast healing.
Six people had been lost already from the terrain alone, one man slipping on ice and caving his own skull in on a sharp rocky outcropping... Restoration magic was strong but, not strong enough to stuff someone's grey matter back into their head.
Worst of all, the weather had become an enemy as soon as they entered the mountain range, if a blizzard wasn't going then it was either a thunderstorm or fast enough winds that a tornado would have been more welcome... One group who forgot to properly secure their camouflage tarp had ended up being picked up like a reverse parachute. No one was sure where they ended up but it probably wasn't anywhere nice!
With all of this, was it any wonder why morale was so low? Soldiers were dying left to right and they hadn't even reached the destination of their suicide mission...
"Surtr, we've got problem." Farkas states as he approaches the Dragonborn, minding his step so he doesn't fall into a hidden ravine like many others before him had.
"Another? You might as well list everything that isn't going wrong, it'd be quicker." Surtr grouses.
"Well, you might have to deal with this one. Some guys just found out that the mages were using spells to keep themselves warm and dry, they wanted some of that too and well, you get the picture."
Surtr rubs the face of his helmet and sighs, "Are the mages willing?"
Farkas snorts, "Of course not."
"Then make them willing. We're nowhere near Skuldafn so they can spare the Magicka."
"You sure? I doubt it would take much for them to start marching back home..."
"Do it, not like they can get back without help now we've gotten this far." Surtr waves him off, prompting Farkas to do as he said.
Problems keep arising throughout the journey, but Surtr kept on top of them, mostly to spite Michale who'd seemingly taken his forces and left without a word. How noble to leave when the world was at stake... He made sure to let his opinions on the subject know, further ruining Michael's already tenuous reputation among the soldiers.
Days pass and by the time the army spots the faint silhouettes of dragons in the distance they'd already lost five to ten percent of their total force, which is actually a lot better than most thought.
Skuldafn was now in sight, the large ancient nordic temple sitting atop a mountain peak with icy walls surrounding the parts that weren't already defended by perilous natural cliff faces.
There was one main entrance from what they could see, and what the 'scouts' information had already uncovered. A long, rather thin icy walkway that zigzagged up until it reached the main entrance.
There, Surtr could see a huge army of draugr waiting for them, larger than average nord corpses garbed in full ebony plate armour and wielding heavy ebony tower shields which was complimented by evil-looking black spears.
On the walls near them were archers and magic casters, ready to unleash hell on any force unfortunate enough to have to fight them. If this wasn't enough, the sun was almost blotted out by the sheer numbers of dragons overhead...
"Surtr... I don't like the look of this..." Kodlak mutters as he and the rest of the army gape at the enemy's fortifications... Most had assumed they'd only be battling dragons, not an army of well-outfitted undead warriors.
"Me neither, but there's no other way... Have the men get in formation, get ready for dragon attacks, and space them out for dragon fire." he steps away and looks up to the sky, "PAAR THUR NAX!" he roars, signalling for the allied dragons to begin their assault.
*ROOOOoooooaoaaaaarrrrrrrr*
In the distance, hundreds of roars sound out, from enemy and allied dragons both. While the Throat of the World was quite a distance away, a dragon at full speed was fast enough to not worry about such paltry distance.
While the enemy dragons had also noticed his call, by the time they reached the army's vicinity, Paarthurnax, Durnehviir, Illococoo, and the other dragons had already arrived.
One hundred dragons vs twenty or so.
The odds didn't look in their favour, at least, until Paarthurnax barreled into a dragon with the force of a thousand suns, crashing into the giant lizard with teeth bared, scattering droplets of blood through the sky.
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The battle began, dragons beginning to fight over the army, their differing voices echoing out over them like natural disasters. The opposition was exceedingly loyal to Alduin, while the other argued that both they and the mortals deserved freedom from tyranny.
Both sides had good points, but to the mortals below them it looked like gods were fighting, their voices creating tornados, waves of ice and fire, affecting local gravity or sometimes even stopping time.
The army looked up fearfully, knowing well that their side had a quarter the numbers of the opposition. The only thing that kept them facing forward was Surtr occasionally shouting Dragonrend into the sky, causing any dragon hit to plummet into the ground like a rogue meteorite.
"Onwards men! WE FIGHT NOT ONLY FOR SKYRIM, BUT FOR ALL OF NIRN! FIGHT THE TYRANNY OF ALDUIN AND HIS GOAL TO END ALL OF EXISTENCE! FOR YOUR MOTHERS! YOUR FATHERS! YOUR CHILDREN! YOURSELVES! YOU ARE THE MASTERS OF YOUR FATE, TAKE IT INTO YOUR HANDS AND SEIZE IT!" Surtr roars as he begins a charge up the narrow pathway towards Skuldafn, Wuuthrad raised high as he single-handed slams into the undead ebony-shield wall.
His axe digs into a tower shield, but he follows it up with "FUS RO DAH!" sending a portion of the undead flying and literally disintegrating from the sheer force of the attack. "FACE ME, FOUL CREATURES!" he bellows, prompting those behind him to follow with courage and fervour.
"I WON'T LET SOME FILTHY UNDEAD GIVE ME PAUSE!" Farkas roars, going head first into the enemy.
"FOR SKYRIM!"
"FOR SOLITUDE!"
"FOR RIFTEN!"
"FOR NIRN!"
The screams of Skyrim's heroes ring through the air as they breach into the large heavily fortified courtyard of Skuldafn. In a battle madness, the men and women didn't even notice the arrows and spells bearing down on them.
A lone Nord takes a lightning bolt to the face, searing half of it and leaving his skull visible, he just grunts and ignores it however, yelling as he charges single-mindedly into a draugr.
"ZUN. HAAL. VIIK!" the draugr shouts, causing the weapon in the man's hand to shoot far away. The undead has a moment of smugness, but is taken off guard as the man's gauntleted hand slams into its temple, the man viciously beating it as if it'd just assaulted his wife.
"FUCKING UNDEAD! SKYRIM IS OURS! DIIIIE!"
"GATEL! GRAB YOUR WEAPON AND STOP FUCKING ABOUT! WE'VE GOT A WAR TO WIN!
"HHAAAYYRRRAAGHHH!!!"
All around, the disorganization of the army proved to be a boon as the Nordic spirit showed itself, a battle fury overtaking Surtr's army as they angrily charge like a group of stampeding buffalo.
You wear ebony armour!? LET'S SEE HOW IT FAIRS AGAINST MY BOOT!?
You can use the Thu'um to knock me clean off of my feet? Let's see how you fair when I throw my sword through your eye!
Surtr himself was also lost in it, his throat seemingly invincible from the stress of using the Thu'um as he literally shouted dragons down from the sky, blasting draugr clear through walls, and enhancing his soldiers enough that they'd eat glass should he command it.
"ALDUIN! YOU ARE MINE YOU PUTRID BAG OF REFUSE!" he roars, but just as he's about to use Dragonrend at the sky again, something obscures his vision...
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, after Michael heard the call for Alduin he summoned all of his forces to him, he and Tiffania had worked together to create a Teleportation Gate big enough for ten grown men to walk through side by side, that or four Eredar men...
Regardless, the first to go through were the heavily armoured Eredar paladins, who protected the vanguard and the next wave, the Crimson Demons who he'd pulled from their world...
Persuading them hadn't actually been difficult when he put the situation in simple terms. The chuunybu clan jumped at the opportunity of fighting a dragon god who was devouring the souls of heaven...
"Papa! Let'ssss go!" Megumin shouts as he hops through the portal, her father eagerly following behind.
They step onto the cold mountain top and gawk at the hundreds of dragons above them... Though, not in fear, but anticipation.
"LET'S DO IT!"
"YEEEEAAAAAHHHH!!!"
"EXXXXPLOOOOOSSSIIIIIOOOOOOONNNN!!!!!" Megumin, Yunyun, and many other Crimson Demons shouted simultaneously, aiming for the sky which may or may not have allied dragons present...
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!*
Multiple huge fireballs manifest in the air, exploding outwards and literally tearing dragons clear from the sky, sending them plummeting to the ground with trails of smoke following them.
Michael wasn't sure who they had actually hit, but he was pretty sure the enemy took far more damage than his side had... Regardless, this was a great opportunity for him, not only to acquire some more dragon materials, but also dragon souls... Divinity was his, and these dragons were the wheat to his bread!
"Tiff! Make sure everything goes to plan!... Oh! I almost forgot!" he says, pulling Auriel's Bow from his back and knocking a blood-covered elven arrow. "NO TANS TODAY! LET THERE BE NO LIGHT!"
*Shkk!*
The arrow fires directly upwards, and while it didn't have anywhere near the velocity to leave the earth's orbit, simply firing it at the bright light in the sky was enough to achieve its effect.
*WoooOOOOOOOOmmmmmm!*
The sun turns crimson, dark tendrils manifesting around it as if it'd grown dark ephemeral tentacles. The light dimmed, leaving the world bathed in red, and activating the Tyranny of the Sun.
Vampires around the whole of Nirn widened their eyes at the sudden absence of the sun, realising that their time in now. Primarily though, it was the Volkihar vampires that gave shouts of celebration, their full power now released despite it being mid-day.
Thus, the War for the World started.
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