[center][b]Nightgate Inn[/b][/center]
[hr]
Dzuungits wasn't impressed. He never expected to be impressed, therefore, the result did not surprise him the slightest. When Tliskev, their liaison with the locals, approached him with an eager band of Tamrielics, he knew they would serve no more than to dull the enemy's blades. Actually, everything under his command felt second-rate. The best cavalry had been assigned to Eviake and his southern front. What was left for Dzuungits were [i]Nanouk[/i] (the eight-legged water bears) in sub-par conditions, a measly four [i]Farisme[/i] (ice wraith pulled carriages, with ice-launching crystals detached from ships), in which one broke down five minutes out from Windhelm. Hell, at least two [i]Nanouk[/i] lost their mouth suction, which meant they had to be straw fed. Like maintaining the mounts' temporal adaptive assembly (or whatever the shamans said) wasn't troublesome enough. Now he realized Hakkeam had deemed him expendable, even as he were promoted from one of the dozen second-guards to one of five first-guards. His troops were merely distinguished between the forlorn hope and the forlorn hopeless. 

Pulling up an enchanted spyglass to his visor, the Kamal rider saw Ji'Vesrai being electrocuted to bits. It was a relief in the end, as whatever secret weapons the defender held had been drawn out by the distraction. However, this meant most of the collaborators started retreating. Some ran to back to the northern hills they flanked from, while others attempted the fastest way back, which meant through a series of trenches and obstacles on the main road. If anything, these locals were fast. Some of them were bound to be killed in retreat, but a few, like the Bosmer woman accompanying Ji'Vesrai earlier, ran back faster than that Tang Mo dimwit For'reste Gum'p. 

"Sir, our attack has been scattered! They killed Ji'Vesrai, blew him up!" The Bosmer came up between exhausted breaths. "We can't do this, it's-"

"Shut up!"

Dzuungits' giant hand clamped on the tiny elf's head and smashed her into the ground. There was a bone shattering crunch and blood seeping out. The long blurb of foreign words started to give him a headache, so it was only fair to repay the favor. He didn't care, he had enough, and the pathetic Tamrielics went past their usefulness. The only shame was the elf's sweat dirtying his gloves. [color=BEC3C6]"Commence bombardment!"[/color] He ordered his crystal operators in their native tongue. Walking further back, he took command of the two captured catapults; one of which was crewed by collaborators, while the other was manned by these bone clad [i]Armigers[/i] they suppose to call allies. "Launch, now!" Dzuungits barked in Tamrielic. 

A volley of ice and rocks touched down around Nightgate Inn. Because their position was set up hastily, their shots were not calibrated to be accurate. With that said, Dzuungits was satisfied to see at least one rock smashing into the main building. It only destroyed a corner, but for whoever under that corner, they're flattened good. The siege weapons continued launching for a few more minutes; many hit nothing, but some had certainly found their target. The death of three densely clustered defenders were witnessed through Dzuungits' scope, then he swiped to side, and he saw the Orc woman.

It was one of the collared mages, at least she looked like it. There were scarcely any green brute-elves within the collaborators' ranks, as the massacre of their nearby stronghold drove them into hostility. This one appeared to be fighting against Dzuungits' "advanced scouts", which meant, she was fighting for the enemy. The enchanted properties of the spyglass should pick up anything their shaman marked, yet for some reason, the Orc had no collar signature at all. Tliskev assured that the leading mage, some "Jonimir", would keep the rest in line. But, there was no reassurance on if Jonimir's subordinates wanted to stay in line. If Dzuungits needed any more reason to attack, the danger of the green-skin leaking vital information was it. 

Bombardment ceased as he had ordered. Dzuungits saw damage being done, but it was far from a clean extermination. Many obstacles and defenders remained, but no matter; he could handle this much. 

Saddling on his [i]Nanouk[/i], Dzuungits blew a baritone war horn; the signal for his cavalry to advance. The sound would be heard by the defenders, and hopefully, driving fear into their puny brains. He urged his bear forward with its rein, causing it to plod ahead like it always had, for decades. Thinking about it now, Dzuungits recalled the [i]Nanouk[/i] were not predators prior to their domestication eras ago. Their natural behaviors were akin to some [i]panda[/i] bears in other Akaviri lands. However, a [i]Nanouk[/i]'s fury knew no equal at its prime, and that, Dzuungits understood, came only when it became desperate. 

[color=BEC3C6]"Time to hunt another big game."[/color] Dzuungits said, strapping his heavy shield to arm. Up front and center on the shield attached a head, a lizard head in which Dzuungits took as trophy three weeks ago. He patted the leathery features gently. [color=BEC3C6]"Don't you agree, Utu-ja?"[/color]
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/w0XWwEk.png[/img][/center]
Utu-ja was calling to him. 

A cloud of voice clamored for Daelin's mind. It was hazy as to who spoke what, but when they started to materialize, the Argonian was first to pierce through the smoke. He was told to wake up, to fight, to breath and to return to where he belonged. All a sudden, everyone started speaking; Iron-Pumper taunted him over the betrayal, the Riften thief laughed at his foolishness, the Nordic demographer probed every aspect of his life, and finally, Eridor, the chief of his clan. He was always eschewing responsibility, always running from the consequences, always turning away from what was important, the figure told him. "No!" Daelin would counter. These days were long over; he had worked tirelessly as Ashav's lead scout, the numbers of lives saved, and lost...

[color=808080]"You never care."[/color]

[indent][color=8f7367]"Do you understand what led you here?"[/color][/indent]
[indent][indent][color=708c98]"If you only considered..."[/color][/indent][/indent]

"Open your eyes!" Utu-ja reached to him. His scales danced in smoke and dust, as if they clung to this unreal reality. A dark gaping maw hungered behind the Argonian; Daelin knew what would happen if he did what he was told.

"You're dead." The Bosmer said, a statement to himself.

"Yes, but you are not." Utu-ja told him. He extended his scaly hand and all the other figures fell silent. "You can honor me one last time; give my body a deserved rest."

Then a bright lightning pulse arced through space, shattering every single figure. Daelin woke up. He was on a bed, most of his clothing were on, though some were roughed up and burned. He remembered, the memory licked him. The stand-off, the confrontation and one ball of inferno that destroyed the solid under his feet. He was severely injured, yet, his wounds were treated. Every part of body screamed in different types of pain, but in its entirety, it remained functional. Someone was fighting outside, and the blinding flash that woke him must have been part of it. Where was he? Scanning the room for details, he found "Property of Nightgate Inn" carved on a drawer. Where were his weapons? Conveniently, whoever tended to him laid his bow and quiver in a corner. His bone dagger still sat in his boot. Now the final question, where did his men go?

Out of nowhere, an earth-shattering impact shook Daelin out of his thoughts, and out of his bed. When he looked up, the opposite wall had been demolished by a large rock. That definitely confirmed he was in a battle. With adrenaline surging, Daelin ignored the protest of every sore muscle by leaping out of the partially destroyed building. On his way out, he heard someone begging Talos for mercy from behind the cellar door. He also saw an old Orc so pale, and the blood pool around him so deep, that the poor fellow must have been bled dry. This wasn't one of the mercenaries, but if something could do this, then the implication of whatever Daelin was about to encounter sent a wave of dread into his stomach.

Thankfully, Daelin stepped outside to few ongoing conflicts. A lot of armed individuals were running away. That didn't matter, for the Bosmer immediately caught the shapes of Keegan and Marcel drenched in a puddle of gore. An Orc woman was handing them potions, so that's where Daelin hustled to. He realized that his attire (and half of his mohawk) was badly burnt and wouldn't hold up against a serious blow, though that was a worry for later. For now, Keegan was thrashing and panicking.

"Ahh! I can't see." The Altmer haphazardly scraped remains from his face. He managed to clean off one eye and found an eyeball in his hands. "Aaahhh! My eye!" His scream was loud enough to cause a bunch of Nord fighters to stare in wonder.

"Easy lad." Daelin rushed to Keegan side and laid a hand on his face (only possible as the taller elf was kneeling). He wiped the blood off the other side of Keegan's features, revealing a mostly fine eye. "Look, that ain't yours."

"Oh." Keegan panted. The sight of Bharzak offering health potions must have been a welcoming one for the Altmer, for he gladly took the bottle and chugged it like an alcoholic reuniting with his long lost beer. There's so much blood caked onto Keegan that his scratch wounds from the earlier fight had been completely blocked. Even though Keegan didn't look any prettier with the potion, he was certainly moving with more vigor. "Th-, thanks."

"Wait, Daelin?" Finally seeing the Bosmer took Keegan aback, even more so than seeing Ji'Vesrai's torsoless legs, which was cauterized in the blast and not leaking much blood. 

"I-" Rudely interrupting Daelin was a gigantic ice spike dropping from the eastern skies. It landed harmlessly away from the mercenaries, and harmfully into a trio of Braves. "When-" Another spike. "Y'ffre damn it, who is attacking us!?" Daelin screamed to match the sudden loudness of projectiles impacting the ground. "And who are you?" He pointed at Bharzak.

"She's Bharzak, you rescued her from the cave, remember?" Keegan introduced for the Orc. "We got Fulrog, the arcane smith, to remove the collar Kamals put on her" Keegan gestured towards the blood pool at the inn door. 

Daelin nodded in response. He did recall the Orc, but the last he checked, she was working with Jonimir. Whatever, he'll take Keegan's words for now. There was also the question of their attackers, but that was cut short by a rock flung into nearby revetments, sending wood splinters at Daelin. 

"Get out of the open!" A Braves fighter alerted them; the Nord in question was dragging another with a jagged piece of wood in his stomach. His words were wise to the situation at hand; Daelin, Keegan, Marcel and Bharzak found themselves behind a stack of barrels. 

"Scouts say the Kamals are just to the east. I bet they're coming after this." The uninjured Brave said between efforts to stabilize his wounded comrade. He glanced up, seemingly recognizing the features of Keegan and Daelin. "Aren't you the mercenaries from Windhelm? I'm Aenar, met with one of your Argonians, Tsleeixth or something. Is he ar-" 

This time, a booming horn interrupted Aenar. It was heard loud and clear by every on site. To the veterans at Windhelm, it was much alike to the signal when Kamal troop ships lowered their ramps for assaults. "Incoming! Cavalry charge!" A Braves watchman shouted from the frontlines, voice quivered with fear. 

Aenar's eye widened. "We can't take them here! Gonna need some help! Why can't the Dragonborn be saving the day now?"

"The Dragonborn's been assa-" Daelin put up his hands. "Wait, you were held by the Kamals?" The Bosmer spoke to Bharzak. "Does their cavalry have any weakness we can exploit? Anything that can help us?" He almost plead.

"Even if they do, we won't have the resources to exploit them." Aenar pointed out. He looked to his fellow militiaman, seeing life rapidly drained out of the man, Aenar hang his head in resignation. "Get her back to your boss in Dawnstar, that's where you're based, right?" Desperately ripping off clothing for bandage, Aenar could not stop his battle buddy from dying. The impaled fragment was the size of an arm, and wrapped around it were vital organs. "Get us help, anything. Guards, Stormcloaks, bandits, by Oblivion, I'm sure Dorrance will even take Thalmors!" The injured warrior's eyes drooped shut, and Aenar sorrowfully checked the pulse. "Go, us Braves will hold them off."

For what it was worth, Aenar gave the best plan Daelin could match. He had nothing to argue, and merely told the rest to comply. However, as the first formation of eight-legged bears crested from the horizon, everything happening at this moment became trivial. He saw the Kamal leader, the shield, and the macabre ornament mounted upon its front. In that instant, his dream made perfect sense.

"Uh, Daelin." Keegan worried. "Are we going now?"

"Find Jorwen and the rest; get to a safe point." Daelin replied without paying Keegan much attention, as he was all of a sudden fixated on the charging snow demons. He stood up, bow strung with an bone arrow nocked towards one Kamal with gold trimmings on its armor. "I have a dying request to fulfill."
[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/w0XWwEk.png[/img][/center]
Dzuungits rode in front, not the first, but just behind the earliest line of riders. Trenches and gabions formed an incomplete blockade, with gaps being either unfinished or destroyed in the bombardment. The defenders let loose arrows, some flaming, once they came in range. But it was clear that the archers were in reduced strength, and it was insufficient to stop the cavalry charge. [i]Nanouk[/i] moved slower than horses. These amphibious bears were not sluggish, but they had to make up for pure celerity by carrying heavy armor. Many shots bounced harmlessly off the bears' plates, but some, especially the flaming ones, inflicted critical damage on unfortunate riders. Pained [i]Nanouk[/i] emitted sharp, high-pitched shrieks uncharacteristic for their size. 

When Dzuungits' mount leaped across the trenches, many defenders were already fleeing. Dzuungits was able to skewer two Tamrielics on his tree-sized lance, that was, until his [i]Nanouk[/i] came to a complete stop. Turned out a steel trap had snapped shut on one of his mount's eight legs. The creature reared in pain, forcing Dzuungits to dismount. Hastily inspecting the damage, the Kamal commander knew he had no time to pull the trap out. He would be fighting on foot, so Dzuungits discarded his lance, for its length, and the added weight of two impaled bodies, made balance awkward. His backup weapon was a short sabre, one that would be proportionate to a Tamrielic longsword. Before the said sabre could sheathed, a defender barreled in with axe aloft. Instead of cutting off Kamal heads, this Tamrielic being was tossed back by a thrown spear. 

[color=BEC3C6]"One of you get my mount free; the rest of you press ahead."[/color] Dzuungits ordered his soldiers. Several more had switched to moving on foot, including one adept ranger with a spear-thrower and a bundle of whale bone spears. [color=BEC3C6]"You, come with me."[/color] He beckoned the ranger.

A new challenger entered in no time. This one, who was previously caring for his comrade, came charging at the Kamal ranger. Initial thrown spear missed its mark, allowing the Tamrielic and the Kamal ranger to engage in close combat. Dzuungits kept marched forward, having full confidence of his men's capabilities against the paltry natives of this land. But before he got anywhere, player two decided to join in the form of a crisped midget elf. 

This individual was hardly threatening in a set of ashen outerwear. He shot an arrow at Dzuungits, which was easily deflected on his generous shield. The elf scrambled another shot, all the while raving about some "payback", "disrespect" and "burial". Perhaps it was some form of distraction, as the arrow glanced off Dzuungits' pauldron, close to his head. The midget was fuming mad came the next shot. Three arrows loaded against Dzuungits, all overdrawn so far back and the elf himself recoiled back, clenching a dislocated shoulder. One arrow flew off wide, another hit Dzuungits' shield, and the final one bit into his forearm. 

It was his sword wielding arm. As the arrowhead torn into scarred tissues, Dzuungits abruptly lost grip on his sword. His enemy took this chance to close it with a dagger, somehow ignoring a dislocated shoulder. The elf was fast, so fast that he sprinted besides the Kamal, dropping below his shield in a slide and cutting into the joints between his greaves. Now behind Dzuungits, the elf leaped forward with his dagger.

"For Utu-ja!"

[i]Thud[/i].

Dzuungits had spun around in time. He caught the dagger with his shield, then roughly slapped it out of the elf's hand. With his unhurt leg, Dzuungits kicked the pitiful elf with enough force to send him flying. Ribs cracked over his boots. 

[color=BEC3C6]"Finish him!"[/color] Dzuungits told the ranger, who had killed the attacking local, but sustained several cuts in the process. He himself found his sword arm numb and paralyzed, which meant the arrow was poisoned; such an underhanded tactic was befitting only of the Tang Mo. Nevertheless, Dzuungits must continue handicapped. He snapped out the arrow, recovered his sabre, forced it into a solid grip and froze his entire forearm with an ice rune. It would crystallize the wound and prevent poison from traveling elsewhere.

There was one more target before Dzuungits could seek treatment; the Orc woman. He needed to bring her corpse back to Tliskev, and mount her head besides Utu-ja's. "You will regret running away." Dzuungits taunted in Tamrielic as he drew near her. "You will die like the elf. Your head will like be this lizard's."