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Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

A bitter old man gets tossed into the world of Tamriel, as a descendant of a religious madman no less, watch as he delves into the secrets of magic and explores the wonders of this danger-filled world, and with luck and a lot of magic juice possibly even beyond. This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic (or anything for that matter). English is not my native language but I think there shouldn't be too many mistakes. The story will focus on magic and exploration with most likely a bit of romance later on. The upload schedule won't be rigid, but expect five chapters a week. If you want to support me financially and get access to early chapters visit patreon.com/Rastislav156

Rastislav · Videospiele
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Chapter XCI: Fall of Volkihar (Part 3/ The Storming)

the house of Dagoth offers their thanks to Imen for their most generous tribute on the vaunted and dreaded site that shall not be named.

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As the gates were slammed into the crumbling wall behind them we rushed in heedless of the cloud of dust that blocked our sight, whichever unit of thralls unfortunate enough to be stationed just beyond finding themselves nearly glued to the floor and then, as if that was not cruel enough to the poor mind raped fuckers, they were ran over by a bunch of heavily armored legionaries.

Needless to say, not a one survived that.

The interior of the castle was a sprawling maze of halls and passages, a fact that would no doubt have led to numerous deaths on our side had we not been informed of it earlier, instead we only had to face an ambush every minute as opposed to the projected twenty seconds.

Morale was constantly flagging with every attack as even the brave legionary elites were swiftly worn down, they managed to continue only by virtue of the mountain of potions that was prepared beforehand.

Moving through the bloodied halls was a complete slog, Harkon was holding nothing back and we found ourselves facing hundreds of freshly turned vampires. True, poor fuckers were neither skilled nor particularly powerful but they were much stronger than the average mortal and some of them even transformed themselves into the form of a vampire lord, something that took even me a bit of time to put down, just enough for a few of the legionaries to fall every time I was distracted.

A fact I almost felt was orchestrated specifically to mock me.

And so it went, room by room we kept marching on, leaving the dead and broken behind us for the healers to try and salvage. As I saw yet another elite legionary get her neck snapped by what could barely be called a young man I was struck with the stark realization that if we mages were not leading the way the battle may have potentially been a loss.

The sounds of battle grew louder as we approached Harkon's throne room, and as we bashed through a line of armored vampires high of their minds on fresh blood, meeting the other squads in the process, we came upon a scene of panic.

Many of the vampires who previously retreated after taking some serious damage were currently trying, and failing, to push into what I guessed were their feeding grounds. They were naturally stopped in their tracks by a veritable barrage of crossbow bolts and sun magic as the infiltration squad burst from the passage with Isran and the Paladins leading the charge in a literal blaze of golden glory, outright burning the weaker vampires around them to ash.

I could see the ones in the back realize that they would be getting no blood the easy way, and that combined with the fact that they were only recently turned soon led to them going feral and quite literally throwing themselves at the closest source of non-vampiric blood.

And who were we to deny the gift their disorderly formation presented?

As one, the elite legionaries brought up their javelins and hurled into the mass of dead flesh, impaling them into each other and even sticking some of them into the floor. To my great chagrin, I could even see Torygg who had no doubt sneaked his way to the front now throwing axes with an expression of righteous fury on his face, Rikke and Bolgeir ran up behind him and seeing as no one would be able to drag him back, they accepted their fate and simply stood close to him, ready to shield him from any danger.

The rest of us kept busy as well.

Phineas began stoking the vampires' rage with his own influence, many of the untrained new bloods turning so furious they even attempted to feed on their own, leading to what I can only call a very permanent case of indigestion. Watching a young woman spewing her guts out as they turned to ash was certainly not a memory I would like to keep.

Savos and Shalazar kept their position and promptly ceased the existence of any vampire with the sheer audacity to be stronger than acceptable. Tolfdir, bless his gentle heart, simply threw himself into the mass of flesh and did a most respectable impression of a meat grinder, showering both friend and foe in ash as his massive clawed hands lashed out with wild precision.

I, however, had taken a much more interesting duty for myself. A powerful vampire, one of the big names in the castle, had the temerity to point his blood magic at a large group of legionaries, shredding a good number of them in a spiral of blood projectiles.

He managed to block my first bolt of fire and lightning with a blood ward, he was forced back with the following dozen, he was so resilient in fact, that I was forced to follow him as the moment I turned away he would attempt to cause massive casualties with his bullshit.

Soon I found myself in an empty corridor that led up to the Chapel of Bal, the blondie Altmer tried goading me by mocking me for 'falling for such simple bait' or equally idiot statements such as 'So much for the great Court Mage' and grandstanding about 'The glory of Vingalmo'

He was about to question why Harkon considered me such a threat but I had had enough of his self-important posturing and sent out a mental command, causing the entire staircase to rain ash as my shades slaughtered his vampiric progeny.

I could at that moment confirm that even monsters such as he still had a heart as he stared at the neat silvery ashes with genuine sorrow in his eyes, bloody tears flowing from his eyes as he shook at the sight. Unfortunately for him, unrepentant bloodsuckers such as he are not considered people in my mind so instead of letting him grieve for even a moment I had Scorch descend from above him and immolate him.

"Nice and crispy~"

"Quite." I note dryly and turn around "Are you two prepared?"

Valerica, still not completely used to my utter disdain for making sense, flinched at being found out but Serana merely smiled, a determined expression on her face "Yes."

We ascended the stairs, the sounds of battle still echoing behind us as our allies rounded up the remaining vampires and put them to the sword, but then, just out of the corner of my sight, I noticed a swirling shadow hidden in a pitch black alcove near the grand gate of the Chapel.

"Incoming" I call out and prepare a spell.

But it would seem that combat would be delayed as a regal Dunmer with bronze hair exits the shadows with his hands raised "It would seem my agents did not overstate your power." He addresses me "Garan Marethi, it is a genuine honor to meet the restorer of the Tribe Unmourned." He bows deeply.

I hum noncommittally "We shall see if you still feel honored by the end of this."

"At your leisure, my lord." He smiles, completely unshaken, and turns to the vampires "My ladies, allow me to welcome you back to the castle. Know that the place has been awfully empty with your absence."

"What are you doing Garan?" Valerica narrows her eyes.

"Merely welcoming the ladies of the castle back to their domain." He smiles lightly. That smile disappears once both of the Daughters of Coldharbour show just how little they value bullshit at this moment "Or if you prefer my bluntness" Garan's mouth twitches "Me and several others have found ourselves..." He hums "Disillusioned by Lord Harkon's recent obsession and the unfortunate results that brought, so you may say we are currently hedging our bets."

"So you are just waiting to see who will win." I deadpan, unimpressed.

"Just so." Garan nods "Even if we wish to aid you in taking him down, Lord Harkon's grip on us is too strong to resist if he is present so we are forced to content ourselves with merely not aiding him."

"A bit cowardly." My mouth twists in disdain "But I sense no lies from him."

"I don't like this." Valerica practically growls "He served Harkon for thousands of years, trusting him is idiocy."

"And I understand your position, my lady." Garan interjects, sounding genuinely ashamed "But I feel I must remind you that had I not served him, I would not be standing here right now." This does serve to mollify the vampire matriarch somewhat, his next words however annoy her and amuse me to no end "And I must also remind you that that decision lay solely with the next Lady Volkihar, and I am quite certain that particular honor belongs to Lady Serana."

Valerica actually growls at him this time but before she can respond, her daughter places a hand on her shoulder "He helped me when I first returned here, he can be trusted."

"That just makes him more untrustworthy!" Valerica hisses.

Having had enough of this I loudly clap my hands "In case none of you remembers, we are here for a reason, so Garan" I look to the Dunmer "Go away for now and we will discuss this later." He smiles and backs away as I turn to the mother and daughter duo "How about we throw accusations after we know we aren't all about to die horrible deaths?"

"A most wise precaution, Lord Dagoth." Garan bows once more.

Valerica glares at him a bit longer but finally scoffs and hisses "Fine, on your head be the consequences."

Serana merely steps by the still bowing vampire without a word and approaches the gate, her hands twitching with nerves as she grabs the warded lock and shatters it to pieces.

"Good luck." Garan says and disappears.

The unlocked gate opens with the slightest push of Serana's hand and leads us into the darkness of Molag's Chapel, the presence of the Lord of Domination making itself known immediately.

Harkon, who was standing before the bloody altar of his master, turns just as the last of us enters. He smirks knowingly as the gates slam behind us "My dear traitorous wife and daughter, how nice of you to finally join me." He greets them with open arms, his sarcasm palpable to all.

"Harkon." Valerica greets through gritted teeth.

Serana remains silent.

"Come here to kill me, have you?" The lord of the castle asks with a measure of amusement "To think you would bring down the mortals onto your own family, such treachery!" A sardonic laugh leaves him at this "Unsurprising, considering the company you keep."

His eyes snap to mine, the pathetic attempt at control following it doing absolutely nothing. His mouth twists into a restrained snarl "The upstart mortal servant of the spider whore, he who dares think he may deny me my purpose. My lord promised great rewards should I take your soul in his name."

"So said the puppet hanging on strings." I snark with an eye roll.

"Your insolence will not save you." He snaps "You have come here to die, and brought me all that I need. But it doesn't have to be that way." He finishes slowly, his tone lush with temptation.

I suppress a retch "Are you actually serious right now?" I deadpan.

He extends his hand, the mental intrusion bouncing off my mind once again "Give me Auri-El's bow, I know you have it" He preempts "And I will permit you to stand by my side in the new world I shall build."

I stand there, genuinely stunned by this.

My disbelief was so potent in fact, that Serana spoke before I could rip this idiot a new one "Are you truly so self-assured?" His daughter asks in a deadpan tone "Or merely mentally damaged?"

"Cease your prattling, child." Harkon growls, waving her off as if her words did not matter whatsoever.

"No." She responds with no hesitation "We have invaded your castle, butchered your forces, and destroyed your entire base of power. What gives you the idea that you can do anything but grovel and beg for a quick death you piece of redundant shit?!"

The ancient vampire actually flinches at her words, more in surprise than anything "To think it would be now that you found a spine."

"Oh yes" Serana snips sarcastically "Who would imagine that keeping your own daughter in a nice pen her entire life might lead to a lack of character?" Before he can answer she turns to me "Reyvin, let us kill this bastard."

"No need to tell me twice." I grin and summon Auri-El's bow, an enchanted sunhallowed arrow already half-drawn as I point it at Harkon.

The altar before him pulses with power, slightly staggering me and making me miss his head and only demolish a part of the wall with the golden laser I shot. Harkon turns around already transforming into his vampire lord form, a blood-red scale mail covering him as his wings extend from their usual rotten stumps and form into full limbs, courtesy of Molag's direct intervention.

Serana and Valerica follow suit, their power bubbling to the surface as the true progenitors of Volkihar assume similar forms.

A blood red blade appears in Harkon's hand as he glares at me "Very well then, if you will not serve, then you will DIE!" And he flings himself at me faster than I can blink.

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Shalazar is within your walls

and he desires your stones

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