Chapter LXVII: Putting Them To The Sword (Part 1)
I raise a hand and enhance my voice lightly "Hold!"
The entire column stills and Rikke rides up to me "What is going on?"
I look around at what must be some kind of curse slowly surrounding us and note it is coming from two directions "It appears we are being cursed." I mutter.
Her eyes widen but she is not shaken and immediately asks "Do you have countermeasures?" Her mind no doubt brainstorming potential solutions as we speak.
"Give me a moment." I say and focus on the feeling the cursed Magicka gave out, it was far too spread out to do any great damage but the effects on the normal soldiery and our supplies would still be disastrous if it were allowed to persist.
The best counter easily made itself known to me, yet some part of me was still reluctant to attempt to replicate Meridia's magic. Still, needs must and all that.
I focus on remembering the feeling of casting spells with the aid of Dawnbreaker and after making sure I could replicate at least a fragment of it, let out a burst of positively charged Magicka around me, pushing the curses back. The curse stills for a moment and much to my annoyance continues crawling toward us.
A small crowd seems to have gathered around me as I open my eyes, before anyone can ask questions I look to my retainer "Davos, take the guildsmen and Sybille with you and find and kill the witch that way" I point to the north.
They all nod quickly, Sybille looking especially happy to stretch her legs, and move out.
"Twins, Minthara, Marco, you will go south with the spellswords and deal with the other one" Rikke frowns as I command her men, but after gleaming from my eyes that I was very sure of what I am doing she nods and they all set off.
"Scorch"
*Pop* "Yes pops?"
"Go to the other end of the column and make sure that the curse doesn't attach to anyone."
"The weird mist thing?" he tilts his head as he stands atop my horse's own.
"Yes, the weird mist thing" I sigh.
He bobs his head and flies off.
"I am guessing you must remain here?" Rikke asks.
"If you don't want all our food turned to literal excrement yes." I frown as I keep pushing a constant wave of Magicka.
"I will inform the King" She says and rides off.
This is getting uncomfortable, those buggers better hurry up.
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(General POV, Northern position)
A Forsworn witch stands above a gutted Nord woman and chants a prayer.
The high priestess had informed her that the Nords were here to blaspheme against their Lady and destroy their way of life, the fanaticism with which she offers another sacrifice to Namira only increases as she remembers the priestess' sacred words.
Her guardians shift uncomfortably, obviously not being used to the presence of their great Lady. It was a shame that proper guards couldn't be arranged, but the priestess assured her the dumb Nords wouldn't even find out they were being cursed, so all she could do is praise her goddess and hope the priestess was right.
As the thought enters her mind a shiver runs down her spine, almost as a premonition. She looks at her guards and notices them all relaxed.
'Must have just been the nerves of youth. Yes, the priestess told me it happens to everyone, I am not a coward!'
Just as she finishes reassuring herself a series of metallic clicks resounds from within the forest and all her guards fall as one, each having at least two bolts, one in the neck and the other in the heart.
She attempts to get up, yet the moment she does so she hears a shuffling sound behind her and before she can turn pain assaults her abdomen. She looks down in fear and cries out as she sees a clawed hand ripping through her stomach.
"Well, aren't you just a treat" she hears a seductive purr to her left and shivers, then pain assaults her neck and all is darkness.
Sybille tosses her victim onto the ground and absentmindedly sets the entire site on fire.
The supremely masked leader of the Dunmer approaches her "Has the ritual been neutralized ma'am?" showing a complete lack of care for the vampire's bloodied hands and mouth. After all, they were paid to kill, not to care.
Sybille looks around and nods to herself "I don't detect any more Magicka being tainted, so that should be all."
"How come you didn't notice the curse?" Davos walks out of the woods and asks.
Sybille scoffs "Reyvin's perception is ridiculous even by Archmage standards." she looks at the assembled Dunmer "Who are you lot anyways? Reyvin never informed me he was running a group of assassins."
Davos chuckles "If he was why would he?"
Before Sybille can grant Davos the Darwin award he had just earned, the boss interjects "We are but faithful pilgrims following the great endeavor, nothing more."
Sybille rolls her eyes "Just say you are Mephalans, no need to be witty with me"
The leader shows no reaction to being outed and shrugs "Much like you prefer being called a vampire to being called a bloodsucking monstrosity, we have our own preferences."
Sybille finishes wiping the blood off her mouth and waves them off "Yes, yes you are oh so pious and godly, now let us get moving, the fun is over."
The Dunmer merely shuffle their formation and move out without a sound.
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(Minthara's POV, southern position)
"Would you stop twitching you coward?" I hiss at Marco whose jitters were getting on my nerves.
He jerks away from me and almost stumbles "This forest is giving me the creeps, not to mention the literal curse floating about."
"I don't care about your creeps, stop being a little bitch" He winces and looks away.
The twins both turn to us, and surprising us both narrow their eyes "Be silent and remain in formation, we don't want to be found out because Reyvin pampers the two of you too much" Bor says in a commanding voice.
Marco rolls his eyes but remains silent, I on the other hand look down in shame. When have I gotten so used to being this relaxed?
I shake the thoughts away, battle is no place for self reflection.
We continue our cautious march for some time and soon find ourselves on a small rise just above what looked to have once been a hunters hut, bodies lie strewn on the ground as two Forsworn drag a whimpering young man to the witch holding a jagged knife, an additional two dozen surrounding the perimeter and watching the perimeter.
Bor stills at the sight and turns to the Quaestor leading the spellswords "We need to move in fast, that lad is about to get killed."
The Quaestor shakes his head "Rushing in is too risky, we must prepare."
Bor looks ready to bash the man's head in "I didn't become a battlemage so I can watch innocents get gutted by Daedra worshipers, so if you are going to be a little milk-drinker and cower up here that is fine, I am going there." His sister nods along with his words.
The Quaestor scowls at the insult "You do not command me."
Bor shrugs and starts walking down the hill followed by Brienne.
Marco and I share a look and both nod, standing up and following the two.
As a guard notices the twins two massive wolves suddenly appear next to them and pounce on him, completely mangling him in an instant. Soon two fire atronachs are also summoned and they start bombarding the surprised Reachmen.
I grab my warhammer and rush at a guard to the left with a battle cry, his head is smashed like a melon as my weapon impacts him.
Another barbarian tries to flank me but the noise of plucked strings informs me of his fate, as he is shredded by an invisible force.
I bite down the urge to shout all of them apart as I see Brienne deftly dodge a warrior only to grab his face and freeze it, cracking it into tiny pieces moments later.
Lightning bolts start smashing into the disorganized Forsworn as the spellswords finally decide to join the battle, the only enemy seemingly able to resist us being the witch who is currently busy fighting off the pair of massive wolves with the help of an equally large raven.
An arrow hisses next to my head and I jerk my eyes to the one who loosed it, a young Reachman barely past his childhood is fiddling with an arrow and trying to shoot me again. Remembering my teachers words about mercy being a luxury I conjure a blade of wind and decapitate him.
The witch finally manages to banish a wolf and turns to kill the other one off, but instead of a wolf she is met with a raging Bor who impales her on his sword with inhuman strength and creates a spear of ice right in her face.
The resulting explosion of flesh was as disgusting as it was impressive.
The spellswords shuffle out of the forest and start securing the perimeter as Brienne applies first aid to the barely coherent young Nord. He shifts around in her grip mumbling something about his sister.
Bor seemingly notices something inside the house and rushes in, after a couple of tense moments he brings out a young girl, obviously blinded by flames.
I barely manage to hold back the bile in my throat, while Marco just looks away and starts muttering curses at himself for ever leaving the city.
The twins share a look and both focus on me, Brienne is the first to speak "Minthara, you are capable of precise air magic, yes?"
I blink, why would she... "It is my main element." I say quickly as her eyes narrow in annoyance.
"Good" She nods "Come here."
I am not liking where this is going. I walk up to them and they take positions to the sides of the girl as they lay her on the ground and signal for me to remain near her head.
Bor, without a hint of emotion on his face says "We need you to cut out the burned flesh so we can heal the eyes."
I shiver in disgust "I..."
Brienne stares at me, her gaze completely serious "You are the only one present that can do this, we could try normal blades but we are as likely to kill her." The girls brother whimpers as he hears this.
My hands shake as I kneel down next to her.
"Come on, Reyvin wouldn't bother with someone who couldn't do at least this much." Bor says in a lightly teasing tone, alleviating some of my nervousness.
I take a deep breath as I gather my courage and get to work, I am forced to cast my magic gently yet precisely, my focus fully on the girl's mangled face as I am forced to watch her flesh peel of her face and the remnants of her eyes get detached from their ruined sockets.
"That is enough" Bor says firmly and pushes me away. The twins both channel an immense amount of restoration magic into the girl and her face visibly reforms into a healthy and normal state.
"Wheew" Bor whistles "That was draining."
The girls brother embraces her while sobbing uncontrollably.
"How are the two of you so powerful?" I can't help but ask the twins as I barely stop my hands from shaking.
Bor chuckles and Brienne explains "It is mostly due to Reyvin, the entirety of our year was pushed by his example to be our best selves." She giggles "He might be completely mad, but he has his good sides."
I blink "Is the college really that good?"
This time Bor answers as he urges one of the spellswords to guide the Nords away while the rest burn the ritual site to ash "Reyvin is a good mage of that there is no doubt, he is not an Archmage however so he cannot teach you everything. At the college there is a Master for every school, ready to teach you all you are willing to learn."
"Most of them are also completely insane." Brienne adds helpfully, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Figures. I roll my eyes at my inevitable fate "So why would he not send me there instead of wasting his own time?"
Bor shrugs "Either he doesn't care to or he is waiting for the next group year to start when the snows fall. Either way I can see you will do quite well if and when he sends you, your wind magic will likely make old Tolfdir jump in joy."
Before I can question them on the college any further the Questor approaches us and looks at Bor "Everything is in order here, we should move out before the camp starts suspecting our possible defeat."
"No chance of that since Reyvin has likely detected the lack of curse" Bor waves him off "But you are right that we should get moving."
We all form up and march back to the army, my mind brimming with possibilities the entire way there.
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Writing For-sworn
Writing For-stone?
Coincidence? I think not.
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