[i]
[b]"YOL TOOR SHUL!"[/b] The crazed Nord bellowed as fire spewed out of his mouth. Hralvar swore furiously as the flames began to burn through his ward, forcing him his knees as the inferno began to overwhelm his defenses. Fortunately, the man's onslaught stopped as Gorzath bullrushed him from the side, but even that was short-lived as the man recovered quickly, battering Gorzath with multiple punches to the face before forcing him off with a cry of [b]"FUS ROH DAH!"[/b], sending the orc crashing into a pillar. Hralvar and Zaveed charged the frothing psychopath together, starting to force him back through the sheer volume of their attacks. But the Nord remained unfazed, and bellowed another Shout.

[b]"FAAS RU MAAR!"[/b] He screamed, sending Hralvar's sword and Zaveed's axes flying. Hralvar roared in frustration, extending both hands to fire a lightning storm at their foe. The Nord froze in place, yelling in pain for a moment before he let loose another Shout.

[b]"WULD!"[/b] 

And he was suddenly in Hralvar's face, raining fists down on the old man. Hralvar let loose a scream of pain as he felt a rib crack from one of the blows. For him, it was the Battle of Windhelm all over again. And just like last time, nothing he or his comrades did even slowed the man down. 

[b]"FUS ROH DAH!"[/b] The insane Nord screamed again, sending Hralvar flying through a window. For a moment, Hralvar was confused as to why he suddenly felt weightless, despite the pain that echoed through his body. And then he realized that he was falling. The top of White-Gold Tower grew further and further away as he fell, even as he heard one last Shout echo from the structure. 

[b]"MUL QAH DIIV!"[/b]
[/i]

___

Hralvar awoke with a start, gasping for breath even as he gagged at the taste of salt water in his mouth. Pulling himself up, he spit out what water was in his mouth as he looked around. He was still on the ship, which seemed to have run aground. Groaning, he fell down on his ass, still gasping for breath. 

"That damned dream again..." He hissed to himself. The final battle atop White-Gold Tower had been a nightmare for everyone involved, but Hralvar had been hurled off of the tower itself, falling to the streets below. If he hadn't known that spell of slow fall, he'd be in Sovngarde right now. Shaking his head, he stood back up, beginning to head for shore with the rest of the ship's crew. 

___

Hours later, Hralvar sat around a campfire, passing a flask of rum around with several members of the ship's crew. Damn that storm. So far, everything that had gone wrong did go wrong for him, Marassa, and Cub. One city. They couldn't even make it to one [i]fucking[/i] city without being captured or nearly dying? Sighing, he took a swig of rum before handing the flask over to the next person in the circle. Forget this, he might as well turn in early. Maybe getting some rest would improve his mood. As he stood up to find his bedroll, he was interrupted by a cry. 

"SCORPIONS!" 

Hralvar paused for a moment, watching Marassa cut down one of the local wildlife before she cast a Magelight out into the darkness, revealing an entire horde of the skittering bastards. 

"...You know what?" He scowled, stepping forward as fire began to gather in his hands. "No. Divines be damned, I am not dealing with this tonight." Two fireballs flew from his palms, exploding in the midst of the horde as Hralvar continued stepping forward, more fire forming around him as he looked to vent his frustration against the scorpions.