Chapter LII: A Rebellion Ends, A War Begins

Alternate title: Big Brain Moment

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(General POV, days earlier)

"And what will this... ritual of yours accomplish?" Ulfric Stormcloak asked the floating undead beside his throne, the disdain in his voice completely unhidden.

"Worry not for your honor, little king." Krosis the Sly rasped "The elf who had drawn Great Alduin's rage is too powerful for even me to face directly, I will merely... redirect all of the death happening around us to slay him before he can destroy us."

Ulfric scoffs "So much for the might of the Dragon Cult."

"Have some respect worm!" The Dragon Priest rounds on him with a loud hiss, power wafting off him as he did "He has faced Great Alduin in battle and lived, by luck or by skill, it matters not for he has shown power and is thus worthy of our respect."

Knowing that his rage would be useless against the undead Ulfric forced his mind to focus elsewhere "So you say..." He pauses before looking back up to the levitating form "And you are certain this plan of yours will work?"

"I have used the same strategy to slay one of the traitors serving vile Paarthurnax when our master still ruled the skies, an elf will surely fall where a mighty Dovah did." An almost lively pride radiated off the lich as he proclaimed his past glories "Do not worry for my part in all this, focus on slaying your rival and taking the crown and let me worry about the true threat."

The constant mockery almost made Ulfric shout the priest apart but he knew that for all his undeath, Krosis was likely a much greater tongue then he ever would be, so he forced down his wrath once more.

Soon victory would be his, and then all of it would have been worth it.

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(Back to the present)

The rebel King reveled in the surprise on the elf's face as the ritual's power collided with him, but he would not waste the opportunity he was given. He took a deep breath and with a mighty dash of whirlwind he was before the boy who would be High King, his axe already mid swing and aiming to take Torygg's head apart.

So sure was he in his victory, so utterly focused on taking what he thought was his all along, that Ulfric failed to notice a figure dashing across the great hall even before the ritual struck. So utterly focused indeed, that he failed to notice that same figure interposing themselves between him and his target and blocking his axe strike with a large shield of banded steel.

Torygg recoiled in surprise as the explosion of force sent his savior stumbling back towards him, grabbing the heroic person and moving him aside he prepared for battle only to see Ulfric standing there completely stunned.

The rebel leader growled in rage then "You damned traitor!"

His savior let out a weak chuckle as his thoroughly broken left hand hung limply off his side "You consort with forces so vile they were to be forgotten, you force sons and brothers and fathers to slay each other, you bring death upon our people with a smile on your face." With each accusation, the weak and fearful voice grew more potent and decisive "Do not speak of treachery to me cur! You whose honor has been discarded for mere ambition!"

"Well said!" Ser Abelard of Evermor barked, unable to contain himself.

"So easily turned." Ulfric growled "So easily manipulated... I thought you worthless but somehow even now you manage to surpass my disappointment."

"And I thought you honorable only to find a power hungry fool, selling his soul to the enemy." Torygg's savior hissed "Do the right thing for once and fall on your sword so that we need not sully our blades." He sneered "Death before dishonor you taught me once... Well then, why not do the honorable thing, Father?"

"You are no son of mine!" Ulfric snapped and what was left of his guards started closing in.

"On that we agree." Skirnir Stormcloak grinned and looked to Torygg "I will turn myself in should I live, until then you have my sword, my King."

Some of those following him wanted to protest but Torygg merely grinned in response "I would be a fool to throw away such a righteous blade." He secured his shield and looked to his enemy "Come then, let us end this conflict once and for all!"

Both sides were ready for a decisive clash, only to be reminded of a certain mage's existence as a cold, and utterly unamused, laughter started filling the chambers, chilling the hearts of those whose resolve was lesser than their peers.

The mighty beam of death magic dissipated revealing Reyvin's untouched form, his guardian standing behind him with his hand outstretched in the direction of the attack. And yet, even as he was undamaged his eyes blazed with such fury that those closest to him started hearing buzzing in the backs of their heads as their very souls cowered.

And then, without a word, the Dragon Priest exploded.

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(A few moments earlier)

Sly Krosis gazed at his shattered foe, the necrotic energies no doubt having already stripped both him and the giant to only their bones, perfect for raising them as undead servants. Such was his joy that he hoped for a moment that he completely forgot the rest of the battle, had he still a heart it would be beating with all the glee he felt.

Oh he was already making plans for his ascension beyond his fellows, for Great Alduin may be so pleased for those few moments once he delivered the news, that he may remember him, thus raising him in stature far beyond those other forgettable Dragon Priests.

And yet, even as his rotten face twisted into a hungering snarl he could not keep the little tinge of doubt in the back of his head from growing.

(Reyvin's POV)

The beam of negatively charged Magicka was so overwhelmingly vast in scale that the dozen wards I summoned broke almost instantly, only the positive Magicka I channeled into them, bolstered by my masteries and blessings, served to stall the onslaught for a brief few moments.

But a few moments was all I needed as Akulakhan barreled behind me and slammed his weapon into the stone flor, embedding the glaive as if he were striking mere dirt, and summoned his own mighty wards.

I could have made him far more destructive when I created him back in the forge but I did not need another artillery piece, I needed a guardian, and the aetherium core powered animonculus soon showed this to be the right decision as wards far more potent than I would achieve in years formed all around us, completely blocking the attack and even absorbing some of it to power themselves further.

My mind was not focused on the failed attempt for long though, as I felt the massive circle below the city pulse with power once again, its power far greater than the mere shard that was being directed at me, I quickly realized. Guessing at its purpose was completely unnecessary though, as soon the fallen and buried started rising from their rest.

'What a shitshow' I cursed internally as the beam of power finally dissipated, revealing the masked lich looking at me with what I could practically taste was glee and cruelty. That was naturally immediately replaced with fear and surprise as he realized his little ploy failed and his hands immediately started moving to weave a protective spell.

It was just too bad for him that I was in no mood to be playing around with him.

See, back when I was faced with the literal Cthulu of this world and he attempted to shatter my mind to the point that all I could focus at the time was protecting it, I came to a startling realization. My mind was so expanded at this point that I no longer even needed Mephala's blessing to sense someone's intentions, a bit of inspiration from ole' Hermy and a lot of stressed focus soon had me practicing that little inclination of mine and honing it into something far, far more useful.

Adversity breeds excellence after all, and I was most adverse to Mora's fuckery once he started trying to infiltrate my domain. And so it was that the mindfucked had become the mindfucker.

[Illusion Expert => Master] [Power Unlocked: Psionics (Magical)]

The lich before me was a powerful mage in his own right, an ancient expert in illusion and necromancy from what I learned and could sense, but his mind was unprotected, for he relied on shielding himself against illusions instead of anything more tangible and his ego was already quite fragile from his recent awakening after eons of slumber.

There was nothing illusory about the proverbial warhammer I slammed into his brain, utterly shattering his connection to the world as he backed away in sheer terror. My mind connected to his own, imposed itself over its lesser and the poor fragile thing, so weak and unprotected for so long, shattered.

There was some gawking then, even from Ulfric and his remaining living subjects, as the terror that the Dragon Priest represented disappeared, its body shattering along with its mind.

Before anyone could react to this I looked to Ulfric Stormcloak, genuinely stunned by the sheer audacity of this man "Undead rituals Ulfric, really?"

He blinked and then growled as he realized what I was implying "What?" Both sides stared at me in fearful silence as the sounds of battle soon started reaching us along with the growls of the undead. Ulfric may have been stupid but he was not stupid enough to replace his guard with Draugr, the same Draugr which were now out of control and killing anything with breath in its lungs, of course.

"That ritual your lichly friend just invoked." I point at the neat pile of ash next to the throne "Just raised every single dead body in the city."

Ulfric took a step back in shock as some of his housecarls dropped their weapons in sheer surprise "No..." He muttered weakly, shaking his head.

"See now where your idiocy has le-" I stop speaking suddenly as my senses pick up something in the distance "Well, shit." 

"What is it?" Torygg asks with concern, his deathglare at Ulfric paused briefly.

"Kill him quickly and prepare for the battle of your lives." I declare in lieu if answer "In fact..." Without any preamble or threat I point Magnus' staff at Uflric's throat and blasting it with a perfectly controlled beam of gold, twisting it so that he could never speak, or more importantly shout again.

Ignoring the idiot grasping at his neck, and his guards who were piling around him, I turned and left without another word.

'You just had to provoke the fucking death dragon, didn't you?!' Scorch chirped merrily as we rushed outside, Akulakhan at our backs.

(Torygg's POV)

"Even now he plays his games." I shake my head, somehow amused even in this terrible situation. Leaving my friend's eccentricities for when our lives were not in danger I turned to the pathetic man that was my foe and once more raised my blade at him in challenge "Ready to pay for your crimes, traitor?"

(Tullius' POV)

The battle was going well, and the reports that came told of an overwhelming victory but even as yet another district fell I could not help the growing feeling of unease in my gut 'It is all going far too well...'

I cursed my cynicism as it proved itself correct once again and I saw a massive sheen of red overtake the entirety of Windhelm, and from my seat atop the command tower I could see the hundreds of corpses on the great bridge start to rise.

"Damn it all!" I cursed, startling my subordinates "Send reinforcements to the city now! I want all of our scrolls and supplies focused on putting down the undead!"

The Quaestor saluted and immediately rushed out to relay my orders.

If my intuition was right, and rarely was it not in these matters, the death toll would be a nightmare to deal with but it was a mere ploy from a desperate fool, something we could deal with.

I really should not have tempted fate like that.

Soon shouts of surprise and terror reached me, drawing my gaze to the east, and the enchanted monocular I had been gifted by Dagoth dropped from my hand as I saw it... No, as I saw them.

Two blue colored dragons flying towards the city at immense speeds with one of red heading in our direction.

"Activate our siege defenses." I barked out as quickly as I could compose myself, one of my attendant magi, a good Colovian soldier, quickly opened a nearby chest and started using the scrolls within to cast protections on our command center.

"I want every soldier spread out in loose formation, don't give the dragons a target to shout at!" I called for another officer.

A younger recruit, not yet commissioned but a quick learner non the less gawked at the order "Sir... do you mean we are to fight that?" He pointed at the approaching silhouette weakly.

"We are the Emperor's own Legion." I declared firmly "Even if Oblivion itself pours open once more we will fight until the end." I looked to my bodyguard "My sword." 

There was silence then as I took my weapon and sheathed it on my belt, the gesture enough to placate some of the less courageous 'The Divines test our worthiness each day.' I thought with resolution building within me 'And by Talos I will not falter.'

And then the shouting began.

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The cliff today is a tad less steep yet still as desiring of stone to fill it.

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