Could you believe nobody bothered to catch Ariane when she fell? Maybe mercenaries were truly selfish, or the Breton mystic didn't earn many's trust. She fell hard and fell painfully. So hard and painful, in fact, she knocked herself out. Someone dragged her away when the Kamals drew near. A healer said she got a bad concussion. Ariane herself was too knocked out to care.

With Ashav, Edith, Dumhuvud and two EEC fighters ganging up on a single Kamal mage, they managed to cut it down in relative ease. In the process of closing distance, one EEC fighter suffered a fatal lightning bolt to his face. When they finally got to hacking the Kamal, Ashav couldn't be more disappointed to see his iron greatsword reluctant to penetrate brigadine. It was either that the Kamals had incredible light armor, or he could blame it on the rusty piece of shit the guards gave him. Judging by the others actually doing the cutting, it was likely the second. Fed up after many times his blade skidding off armor surface, Ashav threw it at a Kamal rushing to down the berth.

Wait, every other Kamal was following the first. The important one with the disk on its chest was waving to something. They didn't move in the disciplined line they came in, but rather a hasty dash through the left corner of the pier. They broke through, and they went for pier eight.

Unlike pier seven, the defense at pier eight was a struggle for survival. Without a mage like Ariane turning the atronachs, nor were there the presence of concentrated ranged weapons like the piers closer to the gate, the ice golems trampled much before eventually put down. Then, the Kamal formations ripped through the barricades. The defenders nearly took off fleeing, before a werewolf started running amok. They barely held the invaders back, and now with surviving snow demons coming from pier seven, the EEC and the Braves fell apart. 

As the fights of two piers connected, many started to notice Kamals changing their tactics. They were no longer fighting to advance, instead, they sought to retreat onto their ship in pier eight. It was safe to say not many willingly pursued the Kamals. People were more than happy to see the snow demons retreat. If they didn't, few caught the Kamals' backs, as they retreated making sure their way was clear. 

And so, for the second time, invaders were repelled from Windhelm docks.

Different from the first time, the Kamals did not just leave the docks alone. When the last of the ships departed carrying surviving assault troops, they stopped at the middle of the river. Ships blockading from downstream and ships anchored near the opposing shore joined them in a neat line. Together, roughly ten vessels lined the broad sides of hulls parallel to Windhelm's walls.

And opened the crystal hatches.

Dozens after dozens of oversized ice spikes flew into the docks. Each one created earth-shattering explosions, vast craters and thousands of lethal fragments. The barricades suddenly felt flimsy in the face of such force. It must have been what Kynesgrove felt when a dragon razed everything in its path. Defenders previously cluttered together were killed in droves. Just as Windhelm thought it bargained enough Kamal corpses for its own deaths, the casualties once again turned lopsided. 

The gates opened in desperation as survivors ran to get inside. The jarl's son was standing behind it, stunned but somehow still trying to shove people out. In mere seconds, someone's fist clocked the young man in his jaw, knocking him aside. Other guards opened the gate further, allowing in greater volume. Ashav and Vendicci led whoever still lived from the far piers to the gates. The last of their followers made it in just in time as ships turned their focus on the gate, showering it with unnatural chill, thus forcing the guards to close it once more. 

Most that ran and didn't get blown away on the way got inside. Though some still pounded the gate after it closed, they quickly stopped after Kamal missiles plunged against them. Looking on the bright side, the EEC recovered many valuable items from their office. Because pier eight was so close from being overran earlier, they fortunately prepared most of the stuff to go. Ashav scooped up an axe on his way back, though he had yet to recognize it, it belonged to Felix. He left the weapon near some wounded folks, close to Sagax and Roze as he checked after the others in his company.

Immediately behind the gate, a commotion of Nords and Argonians engaged in heated exchanges. Apparently, even as the Kamals converted the docks into winter wonderland, xenophobic Nords still wanted the lizards out. It stopped when the guard captain himself strolled by. He declared the Argonians have to stay in the Gray Quarter and help with defense efforts. A lot of Argonians continued to rage, but most of them paused when one of their elderly kin clenched his head and fell to his knees. Two younger Argonians went to help him up. The elder, who wore tribal robes and jewelries, tugged his youngers to his sides.

“The Hist cries!” He exclaimed. Standing up abruptly, he went from one Argonian to another (including Tsleeixth and Utu, if they were nearby). “Our Marsh is under threat! The East plunders our land! It needs us home!”

The old lizard continued his speech about the Hist under attack. It didn't take much to understand Skyrim wasn't alone in an Akaviri invasion. Nords harassing the Argonians gradually dissipated, some heeded the guards' instructions, some went about more urgent business and the most stubborn ones beat down by Argonians (and other foreigners).

For the mercenaries, they would have to judge one of their own. In a corner of the Gray Quarter, one EEC fighter and a militiawoman stood guard over a battered female dark elf. Relmyna used up whatever caused her werewolf transformation somewhere around pier eight. The EEC employee appraised her for single-handedly taking out four Kamals. Another side of the story was told by the militiawoman, who said in Relmyna's careless rampage, she (or "it") bowled over a dozen friendlies. Allies were hurt or killed. Relmyna herself said nothing, she sat under the thatch of a rundown house and gazed nervously into the sky. The moons were fading and sunrise crept ever near.

Ashav took over guarding Relmyna with his lieutenants. Other groups had their own issues to deal with, so what becomes of the Dunmer werewolf was left to the company's own discretion. Ashav could not make a decision, and neither could his fellows. Dumhuvud wanted to end Relmyna straightaway, he claimed he knew the girl was trouble when she walked in, and keeping her around is just another disaster waiting to happen. Edith argued for the opposite, she said they could not have held without Relmyna, and she could still be useful in other task. At the worst, Edith proposed, they'll lock Relmyna up at night. Daelin wanted something different than everyone else, he had an idea: dropping Relmyna outside of the main gate tomorrow night, and watch her tear into the Kamal camps.

More mercenaries joined their leaders and soon it became a voting decision. For Keegan, he was rather impressed at what Relmyna did. He agreed with Daelin and wanted to unleash the werewolf for a second round.

Somewhere else in Windhelm, the Dawnguards faced a dilemma mirroring the mercenaries'. Who could have thought the commander of vampires hunters was a vampire herself? Not the Dawnguards, despite how well they claimed to know their foes. Their next man in line to take command wanted to rid himself of his former superior right away. “We are letting our foes infiltrate us.” He lectured his fellow fighters. “First our fort and now our team, we need to cut off vamprism's ugly roots wherever it spreads.” 

“Wait, what?” The vampire woman, now wearing no helmet and ripped armor, clung for mercy. “You have no idea what they did to me! The cultists, they sacrificed me to Molag Bal. I could of turned feral a long time ago, but I wanted to fight fire with fire.” She pleaded on her knees, crossbows aiming down at her from all sides. “Please, I had to use my power to turn back the snow demons. I can control it. Don't kill me!”

Just over half the living Dawnguards concurred with killing. There were barely ten choosing the vampire's fate. If someone else wanted to change their opinion, they could simply walk in and deliver a convincing case (or a couple punches to softer parts). Should no one intervene in due time, the vampire woman would surely be a pincushion of bolts.

There wasn't a lot of time to decide. Not long after the bombardment of the docks, Kamal vessels turned to the walls. About half an hour after the ships started shooting, the docks looked a maimed muddle of broken stone, broken wood, flooding water and sharp ice rising as far as the eye could see. Several Kamal ships detached from the line some time later. A few of the crystals were glowing eye-blinding bright. Two ships even had sparks coming out of their chimneys. Half of the original ten remained on the river, they now shot at the walls. Defenders tried to counter with arrows and limited trebuchets, but their efforts only damaged on one ship before most were forced down, lest they fall victim to the superior barrages.

Having thinned out on the river, the opposing shore became clear. Before everyone withdrew from the ramparts, the last men down saw the Kamal's own siege weapons getting into action. Some of them were clearly Nordic in design. Majority of catapults and slings were stored outside of the city. Unfortunately, the Kamals took possession. Stacking on Windhelm's woes, the enemies crafted simple flingers of their own. Shipborne ice-launchers flew straight. Beside fragmentation, little reached over the walls. Siege weapons changed the everything, just before the morning came, Kamals were slinging everything from rocks, wood and even corpses of dead farmers. What the projectiles lacked in accuracy were made up by demoralizing effects. 

Enduring a siege is universally agreed to be bad. For certain reasons, not everyone gazed upon the projectiles in dread. Farid was actually smiling as a large stone crashed into the Palace of the Kings. He sprung up from his seat, running to make rounds with peers. “Come with me now!” He yanked on the serviceable mercenaries. “I need help at the castle, the Palace of something.” The Redguard explained quickly as he went to man to man, woman to woman, elves to cats to lizards. “Someone asked me to free a man in the dungeons, said it was a thief who stole pages the jarl held dear. They said we'll get paid good.” Pointing to the latest impact against the Palace, Farid tried to attract as much attention as possible. He sounded unlike his cocky, patronizing self. Farid, serious, how about that? “Now is the time. You all want gold. Isn't that what we signed on for?”