บท 461: Uncivil Relationships.
Ulfric, Galmar, Dengeir, and Korir fight their way out of the duelling hall while Solitude guards and Thalmor mages try to apprehend them, dead or alive.
Ulfric had wanted to kill Elenwen before they escaped, but the odds weren't on their side, especially with most of the Blue Palace turning against them...
The only real positive in this situation was the fact that the other Jarls were either neutral in this conflict, or were like Igrod, not strong enough to provide any obstacle at all.
Loud bells rang throughout Solitude as the city scrambles to take action, most had no idea what'd happened, but since the duel was known to most, they could make a pretty good guess. This was especially the case with the Imperial soldiers in the Castle Dour, who quickly formed units and started hunting the rebels.
Some Solitude guards actually decided to join Ulfric, but for the most part, the rest stayed out of it or were firmly on Elisif's side.
*Crackle!*
Lightning shoots from the hand of a Thalmor mage as the group makes their way to the front entrance of the Blue Palace, striking Ulfric and causing him to stumble to a knee as the electricity stabs into him and across his armour.
"Damned ELF!" Galmar roars as he avoids the next spell and buries Torygg's greatsword into the Thalmor's skull, almost cutting their head completely in half were it not for the spine providing further resistance.
"GODS!" Dengeir laughs as he runs past the dead Thalmor, eagerly clapping Galmar on his shoulder, "You've still got a good arm! Try to follow through next time though! Try to match the legend of Ysgramor!"
"Hah! Didn't he cut eight elves in half with a single strike!?"
"Yeah, and?"
Ulfric lets out a tired huff, "Enough lollygagging, we need to leave before they can muster the entire city against us. Those Legion bastards'll be on us in no time!" he rasps out, throat still torn from his earlier shouting.
Galmar nods, "The men stationed outside the city will be coming now that the bells are ringing... We just need to reach the ruined wall!"
"YOU THERE! HALT AND FACE JUSTICE, OR DIE!" a Legionary exclaims with many other men at his back, ready to charge the group.
"You'll slit your own throat before I surrender you imperial dogs!" Dengeir angrily shouts back.
Galmar nods, "YOU LOT CALL YOURSELVES NORDS!?" he spits on the floor, "PATHETIC! YOUR ANCESTORS MUST HAVE FUCKED DOGS AND DEER TO BIRTH YOU LOT!"
The Legionary charges at the group in response and the two groups clash, Dengeir and Galmar laughing viciously as they brutally slam their weapons into the enemy, spraying blood and other viscera to the floor.
Korir stays at Ulfric's side, ready to defend the 'Rightful King' despite his relative weakness when ti comes to fighting, at least, compared to everyone else present.
*Clash!*
*Clatter!*
*Clank!*
*Splash!*
Not long after the initial clash, all the group of Legionaries were dead, Dengeir and Galmar had been given slight wounds, but nothing fatal. Ulfric was utterly exhausted from his earlier fight with Torygg, but they couldn't wait around to recover themselves.
They moved closed to the left side of the wall and behind the building within the marketplace. A few Legionaries and Imperial loyalists attempted to obstruct them but they were cut down like the rest.
Once they reach the outskirts of the marketplace, they're able to see the clash between the Stormcloaks and the Legion, each side pushing the other back while civilians supporting either side assisted however they could. Some men and women stood atop the walls and buildings, throwing stones at those below, while others manning the marketplace simply threw the product from their fruit and vegetable stands.
All in all, it was utter chaos.
The Stormcloaks had streamed in through the part of the wall that'd previously been turned into a pile of baby hands. Nullifying any advantage the Legion otherwise might've had.
"LOOK! IT'S ULFRIC! CHARGE MEN! FOR THE TRUE KING!" a Stormcloak captain shouts, encouraging his men to fight even harder.
This, of course, does point a lot of attention towards Ulfric and his group, who were at the side of the clashing forces, slightly behind the Legion lines...
"TRAITOR!" some Legionaries shout, breaking their lines and charging Ulfric like maddened animals.
"The only traitor is you! ULFRIC STORMCLOAK RIGHTFULLY DEFEATED HIGH KING TORYGG IN A DUEL! YOU DARE SPIT ON OUR TRADITIONS!?" Galmar shouts, brutally swinging his greatsword and easily beheading the charging Legionary.
More Legionaries try to obstruct their escape, but Ulfric sucks in some more air, readying himself to shout once more, and the consequences that'd undoubtedly come afterwards. "FUS RO D-A-HUH..." the first two words are fine, but he chokes on the third, this unleashes the shout at half power, but also shreds his vocal cords, potentially stopping him from speaking ever again, even with the full attention of a Master Restoration Mage.
Still, his attack works, the shockwave rippling through the veritable wall of Legionaries, causing them to tumble overhead over foot as the group sprints past them and through the Stormcloak line.
"ULFRIC IS SECURED! RETREAT MEN! LEAVE THESE IMPERIAL DOGS TO LICK THEIR WOUNDS FOR WHEN WE NEXT COME!" Galmar shouts after Ulfric is far enough to safety, taking command of his men.
They listen, slowly backing away out of Solitude as the Legionaries follow, unable to do anything since both forces were evenly enough matched. That is, until mages start getting involved, firing various magics at the mystically inexperienced Stormcloaks.
The Stormcloaks retreat, fleeing back towards Windhelm via the path south of Whiterun... Unfortunately, the Legionaries were not far behind, chasing them in order to catch Ulfric and try him for the murder of High King Torygg...
And thus, the intensity of the Civil War increases.
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Niggross
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บท 462: Big-Ole' Four-Arms
Khan the Cannibal.
Traius Saitus.
Fairo.
Aru Traya.
Akarz Nam.
Uoka Baxasus.
Yulalx the Temptress.
Summoner Lakaz.
Hlakz.
Likma Zllab.
Ninz Siks.
Ceae Hue Nax Twozdayx.
...
The list goes on and on, all of the names belonging to high-level leaders of Mehrunes Dagon's legions. Michael tore through them all, turning their fortresses to rubble, annihilating their soldiers, and tearing the Generals themselves apart. None of them was able to stand against him.
Some put up a fight of course, as Michael's name continued to grow in notoriety, the Daedra made preparations again him, but all of it was for nought. The more he killed, the more powerful he got, and now that GhostShip was Rank 3, his ghostly sailors and cannons were ridiculously powerful.
Michael hadn't actually slept in days, maybe even weeks as he continued his onslaught. There wasn't any time between each conquest, as once he'd destroyed one, he'd immediately moved on to the next like a man possessed.
He wouldn't have noticed his increasingly wild behaviour had he not been spending as much time in his Spirits worlds as possible. In the Deadlands, all of his time was spent fighting, so the respite provided by the worlds was like an oasis in a desert... Or indeed, an oasis in the Deadlands.
The time away from the slaughter and bloodshed allowed him to centre himself, separate himself from the adrenaline-fueled ripping and tearing and make sure he was mentally sound, unaffected by whatever influence the Deadlands were trying to exert upon him.
Things were going well for a man trapped in hell, the only real disappointment, aside from not being able to see Tiffania and the others, was the lack of interesting loot... Sure, there was a shit load of Daedric weaponry and armour, but that was like lukewarm water to him nowadays, especially after he'd gained access to Aetherium... Which he hadn't yet made full of since all of the production was centred on constructing his spire.
He imagined that Hermaeus Mora's realm would be a lot more interesting to explore, all the potential knowledge... As opposed to Mehrunes Dagon's never-ending volcanic islands and ocean of magma.
Michael shakes his head, deciding to check on how his status was doing now that he had a temporary moment of solace.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name : Michael Tahlin
Rank : Legend
Stats :
Strength : 100.2 > 125
Agility : 257 > 300.69
Intelligence : 142.7 > 196.69
Birthsign : The Mage
Bloodline : Human/Winter Wyvern Hybrid
Familiar : Darth, Dark Monolith Parasite
Abilities :
[Dead God...?] : Allows user to Respawn when killed. Grants more powers and abilities the more deaths the user experiences.
[The Mage] : Enables user to learn all magic-based skills 20% faster.
[Gandalfr] : Enables user to utilise any weapon at two ranks above their current proficiency while granting them the knowledge necessary to use them. While wielding a weapon, temporarily gain +100% in all stats.
[Vanntalfdir] : Enables user to walk on liquids as if they were solid surfaces, can be activated at will but continuously drains mana to function.
[Gift-Blood of Auroth] : The Life-Blood of Auroth the Winter Wyvern inhabits the user granting them the abilities she possessed. Massively increased Ice Affinity, increased Strength and Durability, improved Eye-sight, Ice Breath Attack, and the Will of Auroth.
[Language Comprehension] : Enables user to understand all spoken tongues, and increase the rate of which they learn reading and writing.
[Adept Mana Manipulation] : Allows user more control over his magic, spells, and some abilities. Mana efficiency and control of power is increased.
[Pain Tolerence] : Allows user to endure great amounts of pain with little to no negative effects as a result.
[Adept basic Swordsmanship(Two handed swords/One handed swords)] > [Expert basic Swordsmanship(Two handed swords/One handed swords)] : Determines how skilful the user is when handling swords.
[Adept basic Dagger techniques(Single edge, curved, straight, double edge.)] : Determines how skilful the user is when handling daggers.
[Desensitized] : Things of a violent or shocking nature fail to draw a reaction like they used to. Emotions are dulled somewhat and user is more easily able to think and rationalize in high stress situations.
Affinities :
[Lesser Death Affinity], [Water Affinity], [Fire Affinity], [Lesser Space Affinity], [Lesser Darkness Affinity], [Supreme Ice Affinity]
Spirits :
Commoner Tier :
Shadow Shaman : Lvl MAX
Slark : Lvl MAX
Riki : Lvl MAX
Hero Tier :
Anti-Mage : Lvl MAX
Lina : Lvl MAX
Winter Wyvern : Lvl MAX
Legend Tier :
Rubick : Lvl MAX
Silencer : Lvl MAX
Kunkka : Lvl 7 > 17
Magic :
Tamrielic
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Spirit : Kunkka
Level : 7 > 17
Abilities :
Admiral Qualities (Rank 4) : Gives the user inherent charisma when speaking to groups of people. Grants people under user's command a bonus to their damage, attack speed, and movement speed.
Torrent (Rank 4) : Summons a large torrent of water to shoot from the ground, lifting and stunning enemies caught in it.
TideBringer (Rank 4) : Enchants user's sword with Tidebringer's essence of the sea, making their next strike also hit nearby enemies.
X Marks The Spot (Rank 2) : User marks a target with an X, causing them to return to the same location after a few seconds, no matter what.
GhostShip (Rank 3) : Summons Kunkka's ghost ship, massively boosting the vitality of allies on it. Any collisions are dealt massive damage. Requires constant mana to maintain.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Needless to say, his time had been well spent... Though, he had the sneaking suspicion that Mehrunes Dagon was losing his patience... Clearly, whatever he was planning wasn't working, so it was only a matter of time before the big prick decided to change his tactics.
The magma his Ghost Ship sailed across became hotter, more tumultuous and vigorous the more of Dagon's slaves Michael slaughtered as if the land was mirroring its lord's growing ranger.
Indeed, the Daedra Michael hunted now fled at the sight of him more often than not, making him feel like some bloodthirsty pirate... They were supposed to be the demons! Not him!... Wasn't being evil in hell a good thing anyway though? The only people he could harm were those who deserved it so, in the end, he was benefitting those on the side of good... Or something like that.
*CRAAAAAASH!*
Apparently though, he wouldn't have to wait too long for his confrontation, as Mehrunes Dagon's giant red ass randomly appears in front of his Ghost Ship, almost causing it to roll over in the magma from a large amount of displaced liquid stone.
"You big four-armed cunt!" Michael shouts at the God's back as Dagon slowly turns to face him, "You trying to give my ship a brown tip or something!? And who just walks around with a big ass loincloth!? Newsflash! A regular-sized person will constantly be flashed by a hundred feet tall basically naked giant!"
"YOU IRRITATING ANT!" Dagon growls as he stares down at Michael and his ship, "I HAVE LEFT YOU LONG ENOUGH. BEG TO SERVE ME OR DIE, AND DIE, AND DIE! UNTIL YOUR PATHETIC MIND BEGS FOR RELEASE!"
Michael sniffs at the God, pretty confident now that he knew he'd respawn no matter what. "You're like a desperate girlfriend! My answer won't change if you keep asking!"
"THEN DIE!" Dagon roars and he throws a huge red fist down at Michael. It hits before Michael's able to do anything, snapping the Ghost Ship in half and throwing him from the deck as it dissipates into particles, the spell unable to maintain itself after taking so much damage.
Michael flips through the air and lands on his feet, his Vanntalfdir runes allowing him to easily recover his balance atop the molten stone. He draws his sword and readies himself to fight Dagon, despite how stupid that sounds now that he thinks about it.
Indeed, the closer the red-skinned four-armed giant gets to him, the more stupid his decision to fight the being seemed...
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Niggross
Niggross
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