Chapter LXXII: Undying Curse
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Leaving Valerica stunned into silence by my declaration I focus back onto the dragon peering down on us.
He was larger than Vulthuryol yet still a fair bit smaller than Paarthurnax, his sickly green scales looked to be almost seeping with some form of disease yet it made him look no less powerful. Jagged spikes covered his back and extended onto his punctured, even gouged in some places, wings, though that obviously posed no problem to his flight as he descended onto the walls of the mausoleum with all the grace one could expect of something that big.
Two sets of large horns adorned the sides of his head while another was attached at the top, giving the impression of a jagged crown. A growth of scales hung from his jaw, almost giving him the look of a wise old man, a very sickly wise old man that could kick most peoples' asses of course.
"Hmmm..." The deep hum sends a shudder through the mausoleum, rousing dust all across the place, as the undead dragon observes our group. The vampires both retreat back and prepare for a fight but I remain unmoving, my weapons still held firmly in my hands.
"Long has it been since I've seen one of your kind." His eyes focus fully onto me, gleaming with anticipation "I had not expected to see one who wields the voice in this accursed place, much less one of the fahlil."
Pre-battle banter, eh? I can live with that "And imagine my surprise when my research hinted that one of Akatosh's own sons was bound in service to a bunch of mindless soul thieves. I guess Alduin's leadership is as pathetic as his defeat."
"HA!" An odd mix of a bark of laughter and a derisive grunt leaves the rotten dragon as he shakes his head "Your courage does you credit mortal."
"No coward would ever dare enter this place." I shrug.
"Indeed" Durnehviir rumbles "You are here for the blood husk, yes?"
The complete and utter derision with which the dragon says it causes Valerica to sputter in barely contained fury, but she is no idiot, and seeing as she had already shown her fear to the dragon she remains silent.
"I am." I nod firmly, not allowing him to see a hint of concern in my movements "She is needed to stop a plot against the sun, another aspect of your father, no?"
The scales cresting his eye rise up by a fraction, mimicking an eyebrow being raised "I commend your guile fahlil, but I am bound to keep her here and no words will stop me from doing my duty. Willingly or not." He hums for a moment and speaks again "I am not without honor, however. This very place is a curse that binds me, forbidding even death. Should you defeat me I shall grant you the right to leave, so says Durnehviir!"
Now how to deal with this one? I am no Dragonborn so he will not make the same offer he would otherwise but I would still be a fool not to try and get him on my side... What to do, what to do...
Even with my ridiculously quick mind, if I do say so myself, I had apparently spent too long silent as Durnehviir narrowed his eyes and growled "I await your answer."
Mentally flipping through a massive amount of possible rituals before he grew too impatient I finally managed to find one that could theoretically work, my eyes widening briefly as I looked back up to the lumbering undead "I have a counteroffer."
He was visibly getting impatient now, a low growl leaving his throat once more, the eternal curse of boredom was truly gnawing at his mind in this place and he was no doubt eager to batter me into a smear to vent his frustrations. Yet at the same time, he knew damn well that he had all the time in the world so he chose to humor me "I shall hear it."
"Put simply it is obvious to me that you are even now trying to go around the chains that bind you, your offer in your master's name tells me as much." His eyes narrow as his stare becomes even more focused, but he does not interrupt which I take as permission to continue "How about this, if I win instead of merely letting us go you swear yourself into my service and I get you out of this place forever?"
He is silent for far longer than I was, his expression was unmoving but his eyes told me all that I needed to know as I sensed the small instance of hope get ruthlessly crushed by millennia of depression. Ultimately he ends up simply shaking his head with a cold snort "I know not whether to take this as incredible courage or petty insolence."
"I feel no need to insult one who proclaims himself cursed in his own name." I retort without derision "Think about it, would you not like to feel the wind against you once again?"
"You would have me believe that a mere mortal can do what I could not?" He questions angrily "None may steal from the Ideal Masters and live, not even I."
Grinning confidently I flick Blasphemy in front of me, the dragon's eyes immediately focusing on it and widening by a tiny fraction as he realizes just what he is looking at "Meridia called me a mere mortal as well."
For a moment he is silent, then he starts to rumble, and then an outright giddy laugh comes from his very core "Very well then! Let us do battle and if you are able to do as you claim you shall be Thur!" He spreads his wings grandly and shouts "VOKUN AAR ALOK!"
As the words of power echo through the mausoleum there is no immediate effect at first, but a mere blink of an eye later all the shadows in front of us starts to bubble and over a hundred draugr shaped shades colored in black and accented with sickly green emerge and face us.
Already moving I summon up Scorch and start flying "You two deal with the shades, I will fight him in the skies!" I command the vampires and summon up my own undead servants.
Serana immediately gets to work, using her recently discovered preference for getting close and personal she starts to dash through the different groups of enemies and rip them to shreds as she passes.
Valerica on the other hand, takes a moment to give me one last assessing glance before she raises both her hands and starts casting alteration spells, rearranging the entire mausoleum with perfect precision and herding the shades into their death. Her spells were immensely complex and precise, lacking true power, yes, but the finesse with which she cast them gave me the impression this was the same as casting flames for her.
Focusing back onto the ascending dragon I command the incredibly irritated Scorch (courtesy of the locale no doubt) to get us in close and he flashes toward our target, leaving behind a trail of golden flames that seemed to physically clash against the very air.
Durnehviir's head immediately zeroed in on us, he did not hesitate for a moment before speaking a fucking soul tear into existence "RII VAAZ ZOL!"
Using Scorch as a springboard, I jump up and unsummon him, letting the shout hit me and do absolutely nothing as my shroud made my soul completely untouchable. Scorch appeared below me just in time for me to take aim with the Staff of Magnus and direct it at Durnehviir, dumping a quarter of my total Magicka into a supercharged firebolt I launched a laser beam of sunlight at the dragon's core.
With a speed belying his stature, Durnehviir spun out of the way, dodging the spell almost completely but still losing a back foot in the process. As he twisted around his eyes flashed and he pulled out the old reliable "FUUUS RO DAH!"
This all happened in a single second so all I had the time to do was shield my face as I was launched flying back, the rotten dragon moving in to catch me in his jaws.
Luckily I was not without options as I metaphorically yanked onto a shadow cast by one of his back spikes and appeared just above his neck.
Not being a complete idiot he immediately started to twist but that did not stop me from jamming Blasphemy into his back and allowing myself to glide down his side, letting the vorpal blade go to town shredding his already half-rotten scales and causing the dragon to let out a pained grunt.
Just as I was about to fall out of his range, he once again twisted in place, a wave of Magicka blasting off his wings and barraging me with blades of wind. Blades of wind I was unable to avoid as I was forced to defend myself from a flurry of claw slashes with all my might, my blade barely remaining in my hand with the help of ebonflesh.
I felt a dozen spells, and they very much were spells, strike me and after only four bypass my robe's defenses, leaving me bleeding but still very much intact.
Finally gaining some distance I breathed in "YOL TOR SHUUUUL!"
The dragon flames splashed against his massive form, making him instinctively curl up due to the pain of his flesh being roasted and giving me enough time to speed up my healing with magic.
He snarled and snapped another unrelenting force my way, making my fall even faster but just as I was about to hit the ground and incidentally get myself impaled by an entire unit of spear-armed draugr shades I shouted "TIID!" the slowed perception of time giving me a perfect view of the dragon's massive jaw as I felt the shadow of a nearby pillar and pulled.
Time snapped back into its natural flow as I appeared above Durnehviir just in time for Scorch to pass by and pick me up. The dragon smashed into the polished floor of the mausoleum at full speed, leaving himself stunned and fully open to attack.
Naturally, I chose to oblige. The Staff of Magnus crackled with power as I summoned a veritable sea of spell circles and pushed almost all of my personal and ambient Magicka into them. The false skies above us burned gold and all of it was directed at the still recovering child of time.
Yet I was still not done, my study into the voice may have slowed down but that did not mean I ever stopped practicing, and knowing what I was about to face there was only one real option to focus on, and so I breathed in... "JOOR ZAH FRUL!"
(General POV)
Durnehviir had just enough time to look up as he heard the accursed shout of the mortals, the dreaded clear blue wave of energy struck him head-on and he felt his scales become as soft as human skin and his immortal soul loosen from his body... and then came fire.
He had never felt such pain as both the accursed blasphemy of the mortal and his weakness to the sun made him almost unmanifest on the spot. But Durnehviir was no weakling, his will was far stronger than most of his kin, for even after millennia of torment his mind remained his own.
So as the courageous mage staggered atop his burning steed he forced himself to look at him through the flames "IIZ SLEN NUS!"
The elf tried to use his shadow trick to escape once again but the cursed dragon had gotten wise to his reliance on seeing the future and simply employed his own, it stung his pride to do so even for a moment but he would not allow himself to be defeated so easily, no matter how much he may desire this defeat.
The elf was struck by the shout head-on, surprisingly not fully turning to ice but still getting covered in it and smashing against one of the walls, losing both legs and an arm in the process.
The dragon staggered up onto his feet, growling in frustration as he felt the entirety of his left side completely unresponsive and his wing mangled beyond swift repair. He prowled toward the downed elf, his servitude to the Ideal Masters not allowing him to even think about sparing him.
But in his focus on battling the brave mage he had already written off his cowardly companions as weaklings, something he swiftly came to regret as he felt the blackened stone below him extend into spikes and attempt to impale his no longer weakened flesh.
It did work to slow him, however, just enough for the other husk to dash next to him and deliver a magic empowered kick to his head, sending him sprawling to the side, but not before he used his still functioning wing to bat her aside and batter her with blades of wind, almost completely shredding her in the process.
The other husk let out some kind of... roar? Or was it a wail? And suddenly the spikes came in much greater quantity and size. He tried recalling his servants to aid him but all were too damaged in the fight to respond and he realized with some amusement that he had been having too much fun to even pay attention to them.
Finally, after getting impaled for the fourteenth father damned time he found the elder husk and immediately shouted "YOL TOR SHUUUUL!"
It of course dodged, but that was not the goal, as it was still set aflame and forced to retreat, giving him enough time to finally claim his triumph and assert his righteous dominance over the mortal.
He approached the now steaming shard of ice almost giddily, and breathed in... only to feel a dagger of pain stab into his right eye and make him snap away. Regaining his focus he looked back only to see one of the pathetic souls owned by his masters looking at him proudly, a stick fashioned into a dagger oozing with what was once his eye.
"Fall before Jiub the Eradicator!" The soul acclaimed even as it shook in fear. Even as it shook, so did it once again charge at him "Jiub the Magnifice-!"
He chomped down and consumed the soul, such courage earned it a place in his legion after all.
Durnehviir turned back to his prize, and barely held himself back from gulping as he saw the divine staff that tore him asunder pointed right at his face, and the elf glaring at him with something approaching hatred.
He did not even get to twitch as his head was blown off.
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Shout translations:
DUR NEH VIIR = Curse Never Dying
FAHLIL = Elf
THUR = Overlord
VOKUN AAR ALOK = Shadow Servant Arise
RII VAAZ ZOL = Essence Tear Zombie
JOOR ZAH FRUL = Mortal Finite Temporary
IIZ SLEN NUS = Ice Flesh Statue
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*Looks at your stone pouch expectantly*
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