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Hi Nariata
I'm a bit busy right now, won't be joining immediately but might do that in the future.
I'm a bit busy right now, won't be joining immediately but might do that in the future.
Dutchbag said
Did my thing.
Welcome.
Winterhold, Skyrim
5th of Sun’s Height
Sacharen-Regev, Tsaesci Imperial Battlemage
The cold in this land was nothing she have seen. It seems like the very air froze solid with each gush of wind. The town known as Winterhold stood in the distance, a collection of small buildings and a large castle. There was a disaster here in the near past, the waves and currents told her a story of their own. From the very essence of the sea, Sacharen felt its anger, its long withheld desire to swallow up the land.
Today, she would let the sea have its desire.
“The goblin souls are ready,” a lesser battlemage reported. “Our devices are fully charged.”
“And we shall begin!” Sacharen announced, her voice magically channeled and magnified to the rest of the fleet.
The mages gathered their power, some into devices located on various vessels, while others pour their magicka into the sea. The waves tumbled and cried, it rushed to heights that were naturally impossible. The waves reared its head toward the shore, and at a blazing speed, crushed into the town.
Sacharen herself had another target, the castle. It sat atop a narrow spike of land, connected by a thinly held bridge. She felt energy of magicka seeping through its walls, the presence of mages. The castle must be a wizard’s palace, which made it a priority target.
At her fingers’ command, bright flashes descended from the sky. Lighting bolts broke through the snowstorm and hurled themselves at the castle. A tower was first hit, causing it to disintegrate into dust. The large courtyard was next, followed by a side hall and finally, the bridge. Despite her bombardment, the castle, and its foundation stood. But it was merely a beaten shell, with half of its main structure and bridge destroyed.
Exhausted from her casting, Sacharen decided to stop bombarding the castle, as the current damage would be sufficient to kill all those who reside within. Other mages were equally as tired, as their waves had fully buried the town, making all buildings part of the seafloor.
Her job was done, there were no more life on land, no more cry for help.
6th of Sun’s Height
It surprised her that The Buzkiran, the Kamal flagship, sat at the mouth of the river. The giant ship, built with wood in its core and layered with adamantium on its hull, apparently could not maneuver up the White River. Most of its canons and targeting crystals were transferred to smaller vessels, which were currently engaged upstream.
“Lady Sacharen,” a Kamal sailor notified the sorceress. “Commander Hakkeam ordered your mages and fleet back to Solstheim, he will soon take the city of Windhelm.”
Windhelm, Skyrim
6th of Sun’s Height
Hakkeam
They arrived here two days ago. The Kamal corvettes made short work of local vessels, in a flurry of smoke, shells and lighting, all Nordic ships were destroyed. After that, the Kamal forces landed on the opposite shore of Windhelm, where they setup cannons, catapults and ballistas among the farms.
The siege was continuous, waves after waves of munitions slammed into the walls and the city itself. However, they could not just charge at its front gate. Hakkeam knew the bridge was a perfect killzone, even if they could successfully cross, breaking through the gates and subduing the city would be a challenge of their own.
Therefore, they hoped to break the defenders’ will in a war of attrition. The Kamals made their way around the city, where they captured a mill to the west, a fort called Morvunskar, a small town called Kynesgrove and an abandoned outpost near Morrowind’s border.
The locals put up fierce, but short lived resistance. The Nords fought with vigor, but they were weak, under-equipped and poorly trained. Many of them did not even seem to be soldiers from a standing army, instead, they were simply militia fighters and guards. Therefore, the casualties were heavily disproportional, with a few dozen Kamal bodies stored in decorated caskets and hundreds of dead Nords pilled up into a miniature mountain.
Although most of the enemies fought to their death, some were cowardly enough, or perhaps, intelligent enough, to surrender. In front of Hakkeam right now was a small of group of Nord militia fighters, a group of young men wearing mismatching iron and hide armor.
“You!” Hakkeam pointed to the oldest looking man. He was also also equipped with the best gear, a steel cuirass with matching gauntlets and boots. The Kamal was poorly versed in Tamrielic, but a few words would serve more than well. “Talk!”
“Never!” the Nord defied, “Skyrim belongs to the Nor-”
Enraged, Hakkeam punted the Nord’s head with his adamantium boot. Metal slammed into skull with a sickening sound, blowing open a large dent on the side of the Nord’s head, where crushed brain matters started to leak out.
“Anyone else?” The Kamal questioned in anger, readying his boot for the next captive.
“Please! I’ll talk!” another Nord, a teenager with high pitched voice pleaded. He was barely armored, with only a worn hide cuirass and a pair of beaten leather boots. “The High King left days ago, Windhelm is low on supplies, the Jarl is desperate for -”
“Good,” Hakkeam waved for two Kamal soldiers to his side, where one released the young man and another one handed him a letter. “Deliver to Jarl, and run away.”
The letter called for a duel, if the Jarl wins, Kamal forces will withdraw, if he loses, Windhelm shall surrender.
An hour later
True to his words, the Jarl appeared in front of the gates. The man was clad in steel plates, wielding an axe and a shield. Hakkeam also drew his weapons, adamantium warhammer in his right hand, Champion’s Crudgel in his left. He calmy walked down the bridge, on the opposite side, the Jarl charged in full sprint.
Near the center, few meters toward the south, two warriors met face-to-face. The Jarl was first to attack, his axe swung and shield bashed. His attacks were parried by Hakkeam, whose dual warhammers provided ample coverage against attacks. In retaliation, the adamantium warhammer was first to connect, it simply broke the shield into pieces and found its mark right in the Nord’s torso. The man’s ribcage was broken, and the organs contained inside were shattered. The Jarl fell to the ground, clutching his ribs and coughing up blood. When he looked back up, the Champion’s Crudgel was coming down.
“No!” he cried out in desperation. The Crudgel made contact with steel armor, at that instant, all three elements danced across the plates. First, the Jarl was frozen solid in ice. Second, a orange explosion tore his frozen body to bits. At last, electricity weaved through, disintegrating whatever remained into fine dust.
The entire battlefield fell silent for an instant, then suddenly, the gates of Windhelm flew open. A young man was leading a group of blue chain-mail armored guards, he shouted several Nordic battlecries before leading the charge.
Hakkeam only heard a two words, “avenge” and “Sovrngarde”, but no matter what they said, Windhelm just sealed its fate by opening their gates.
“These savages want a fight!” Hakkeam looked back as he rallied his men. “We’ll give them a fight! Do not stop until Windhelm is ours! Forward!”
7th of Sun’s Height
The city was in ruins, buildings lied in smoldering husks and bodies littered the ground. As with all previous battles, the overwhelming majority of these bodies were Nords, with Kamal casualties already evacuated. The remaining citizens was thrown into the eastern sections, into slums the locals called the “Grey Quarters”. Most of the cities food were also shipped into the Grey Quarters, as Kamals found them quite unappetizing. Finally, all entrances into the Quarters were constantly guarded by summoned atornachs and detachments of Kamal soldiers.
Nord corpses, numbering in the thousands, were simply dumped into the river, where they flowed downstream into the Sea of Ghosts. They did not deserve proper burials, Hakkeam thought, and what harm could possibly come by discarding corpses into the ocean?
5th of Sun’s Height
Sacharen-Regev, Tsaesci Imperial Battlemage
The cold in this land was nothing she have seen. It seems like the very air froze solid with each gush of wind. The town known as Winterhold stood in the distance, a collection of small buildings and a large castle. There was a disaster here in the near past, the waves and currents told her a story of their own. From the very essence of the sea, Sacharen felt its anger, its long withheld desire to swallow up the land.
Today, she would let the sea have its desire.
“The goblin souls are ready,” a lesser battlemage reported. “Our devices are fully charged.”
“And we shall begin!” Sacharen announced, her voice magically channeled and magnified to the rest of the fleet.
The mages gathered their power, some into devices located on various vessels, while others pour their magicka into the sea. The waves tumbled and cried, it rushed to heights that were naturally impossible. The waves reared its head toward the shore, and at a blazing speed, crushed into the town.
Sacharen herself had another target, the castle. It sat atop a narrow spike of land, connected by a thinly held bridge. She felt energy of magicka seeping through its walls, the presence of mages. The castle must be a wizard’s palace, which made it a priority target.
At her fingers’ command, bright flashes descended from the sky. Lighting bolts broke through the snowstorm and hurled themselves at the castle. A tower was first hit, causing it to disintegrate into dust. The large courtyard was next, followed by a side hall and finally, the bridge. Despite her bombardment, the castle, and its foundation stood. But it was merely a beaten shell, with half of its main structure and bridge destroyed.
Exhausted from her casting, Sacharen decided to stop bombarding the castle, as the current damage would be sufficient to kill all those who reside within. Other mages were equally as tired, as their waves had fully buried the town, making all buildings part of the seafloor.
Her job was done, there were no more life on land, no more cry for help.
6th of Sun’s Height
It surprised her that The Buzkiran, the Kamal flagship, sat at the mouth of the river. The giant ship, built with wood in its core and layered with adamantium on its hull, apparently could not maneuver up the White River. Most of its canons and targeting crystals were transferred to smaller vessels, which were currently engaged upstream.
“Lady Sacharen,” a Kamal sailor notified the sorceress. “Commander Hakkeam ordered your mages and fleet back to Solstheim, he will soon take the city of Windhelm.”
Windhelm, Skyrim
6th of Sun’s Height
Hakkeam
They arrived here two days ago. The Kamal corvettes made short work of local vessels, in a flurry of smoke, shells and lighting, all Nordic ships were destroyed. After that, the Kamal forces landed on the opposite shore of Windhelm, where they setup cannons, catapults and ballistas among the farms.
The siege was continuous, waves after waves of munitions slammed into the walls and the city itself. However, they could not just charge at its front gate. Hakkeam knew the bridge was a perfect killzone, even if they could successfully cross, breaking through the gates and subduing the city would be a challenge of their own.
Therefore, they hoped to break the defenders’ will in a war of attrition. The Kamals made their way around the city, where they captured a mill to the west, a fort called Morvunskar, a small town called Kynesgrove and an abandoned outpost near Morrowind’s border.
The locals put up fierce, but short lived resistance. The Nords fought with vigor, but they were weak, under-equipped and poorly trained. Many of them did not even seem to be soldiers from a standing army, instead, they were simply militia fighters and guards. Therefore, the casualties were heavily disproportional, with a few dozen Kamal bodies stored in decorated caskets and hundreds of dead Nords pilled up into a miniature mountain.
Although most of the enemies fought to their death, some were cowardly enough, or perhaps, intelligent enough, to surrender. In front of Hakkeam right now was a small of group of Nord militia fighters, a group of young men wearing mismatching iron and hide armor.
“You!” Hakkeam pointed to the oldest looking man. He was also also equipped with the best gear, a steel cuirass with matching gauntlets and boots. The Kamal was poorly versed in Tamrielic, but a few words would serve more than well. “Talk!”
“Never!” the Nord defied, “Skyrim belongs to the Nor-”
Enraged, Hakkeam punted the Nord’s head with his adamantium boot. Metal slammed into skull with a sickening sound, blowing open a large dent on the side of the Nord’s head, where crushed brain matters started to leak out.
“Anyone else?” The Kamal questioned in anger, readying his boot for the next captive.
“Please! I’ll talk!” another Nord, a teenager with high pitched voice pleaded. He was barely armored, with only a worn hide cuirass and a pair of beaten leather boots. “The High King left days ago, Windhelm is low on supplies, the Jarl is desperate for -”
“Good,” Hakkeam waved for two Kamal soldiers to his side, where one released the young man and another one handed him a letter. “Deliver to Jarl, and run away.”
The letter called for a duel, if the Jarl wins, Kamal forces will withdraw, if he loses, Windhelm shall surrender.
An hour later
True to his words, the Jarl appeared in front of the gates. The man was clad in steel plates, wielding an axe and a shield. Hakkeam also drew his weapons, adamantium warhammer in his right hand, Champion’s Crudgel in his left. He calmy walked down the bridge, on the opposite side, the Jarl charged in full sprint.
Near the center, few meters toward the south, two warriors met face-to-face. The Jarl was first to attack, his axe swung and shield bashed. His attacks were parried by Hakkeam, whose dual warhammers provided ample coverage against attacks. In retaliation, the adamantium warhammer was first to connect, it simply broke the shield into pieces and found its mark right in the Nord’s torso. The man’s ribcage was broken, and the organs contained inside were shattered. The Jarl fell to the ground, clutching his ribs and coughing up blood. When he looked back up, the Champion’s Crudgel was coming down.
“No!” he cried out in desperation. The Crudgel made contact with steel armor, at that instant, all three elements danced across the plates. First, the Jarl was frozen solid in ice. Second, a orange explosion tore his frozen body to bits. At last, electricity weaved through, disintegrating whatever remained into fine dust.
The entire battlefield fell silent for an instant, then suddenly, the gates of Windhelm flew open. A young man was leading a group of blue chain-mail armored guards, he shouted several Nordic battlecries before leading the charge.
Hakkeam only heard a two words, “avenge” and “Sovrngarde”, but no matter what they said, Windhelm just sealed its fate by opening their gates.
“These savages want a fight!” Hakkeam looked back as he rallied his men. “We’ll give them a fight! Do not stop until Windhelm is ours! Forward!”
7th of Sun’s Height
The city was in ruins, buildings lied in smoldering husks and bodies littered the ground. As with all previous battles, the overwhelming majority of these bodies were Nords, with Kamal casualties already evacuated. The remaining citizens was thrown into the eastern sections, into slums the locals called the “Grey Quarters”. Most of the cities food were also shipped into the Grey Quarters, as Kamals found them quite unappetizing. Finally, all entrances into the Quarters were constantly guarded by summoned atornachs and detachments of Kamal soldiers.
Nord corpses, numbering in the thousands, were simply dumped into the river, where they flowed downstream into the Sea of Ghosts. They did not deserve proper burials, Hakkeam thought, and what harm could possibly come by discarding corpses into the ocean?
Thorn, Black Marsh
3rd of Sun’s Height
“S’arah”
After the summit, S’arah and her companions made their way back to Elsweyr. They were initially side tracked by one of the militiamen, who caught a bad case of Rockjoint. While he healed under the care of an Argonian herbalist, the remaining group continued their journey without him. After a week of travel, they arrived in Senchal, only to find it under attack. Without hesitation, the militiamen went to aid their comrades, a hopeless last stand. S’arah, however, slipped out during the chaos and returned back east to Black Marsh.
Almost another week went by before the sight of Pandomaic Ocean greeted her, she was near the city of Thorn, and Thorn was no longer an Argonian city.
“Whoever is in the bushes,” A voice came from the side of her observation spot. “Come out now or we will kill you.”
The tigress took a step forward, hands raised above her head. “I am not armed.”
“A Ka Po’ Tun? What are you doing here?” The people in front of her were six individuals, to her surprise, all of them were Akaviri. The leader was a Tsaesci, who had another snakeman and four Tang Mo following him. “You must be one of our...private agents.”
“Yes,” S’arah agreed. It was time to collect her payment, but in addition, she also needed to report her findings, which could potentially change the tide of their war. “I would need to speak to general Abasi-Kil immediately, there are vital intelligence.”
The Tsaesci shook his head, “The High General is currently based in Ynslea. I am Matiyahu-Zvi, captain of the Dragonguards, second ranking officer on this front. You might want to speak to Commander Xing, he is based in the city.”
Thorn, Black Marsh
2nd of Sun’s Height
Xing
According to Ildoryn, the Argonians are capable of waterbreathing. But surprisingly, these natural swimmers operated essentiality no navy. The port of Thorn was small, in fact, most vessels were canoes and fishing boats.
But that was not to say the Argonians didn’t have costal defenses. They had about a few smaller fightings vessels, judging by their appearances, they seemed to be designed for coast patrol or shipping escorts. The Southern Expeditionary Fleet encountered minimal difficulties against their seaborne opponents, led by The Qianfeng, Eastern ships conserved them ammunitions and simply rammed Argonians ships down to the seabed.
At the signs of their arrival, Argonian ground forces started to gather on the docks. Xing frowned at their presence, for the Tang Mo normally strike with the element of surprise, which in this case, was already lost.
“Master Ryu,” the commander summoned. Ryu led the Yin clan, a group of Tang Mo specialized in shock attacks. “Get you men on the docks now, before they can fortify it.”
The Yin warriors were quick to prepare, and within seconds, hundreds of monkeys dove into the sea. These warriors wore enchanted boots, which allowed them to walk on water. Some of them were also aided by potions and illusion spells, making them invisible to the defenders.
When the Argonians noticed the attack, many of them already fell. The cloaked fighters were already at the docks, cutting through their enemies while staying hidden. The main group also closed it, they threw shurikens and darts, both poisoned with the most lethal toxin from the Thousand Isles.
Beside Xing, the Tsaesci Dragonguard appeared. Matiyahu was observing intently at the battle, taking in every moves by his allies and foes.
“The Yin warriors are most impressive, no?” Xing questioned.
“Their tactics are very,” pausing for a brief moment, Matiyahu searched for the right word. “Unique.”
Xing smiled under his mask, he knew the Tsaesci were too proud to admit it, but Matiyahu was no doubt impressed by the display. “It is time for us to do our part. Perhaps your Dragonguards would fancy a few moves of your own?”
Few hours later
While the Argonians were pathetic on water, their fight was much more fierce on land. After the shock of their attacks worn out, the lizards organized a decent defense. They were good fighters, but not good enough to repel a joint Tang Mo/Tseasci assault. While many Eastern fighters fell during the battle, more than double the amount of lizards lay dead.
The resistance had became weak now, as Xing, Matiyahu and a small group of Tang Mo and Tsaesci soldiers stood in front of a palace.
“My men saw most of them retreating in here.” Matiyahu pointed to the palace’s doors.
“Good, all of the lambs gathered in one slaughter house.” Xing chuckled at the lizards’ foolish actions. “Let us finish this battle.”
Gathering a ball of alteration energy, Xing casted a spell to open the lock. Following the spell, the Tang Mo kicked the doors open, sending splintered wood at several surprised Argonian guards.
“Lord Barkaan, they-” Xing was quick to react, before his enemies could run, a shuriken was already buried in each of their throats. Matiyahu followed on with the attack, cutting down two more guards with his katana. They group proceeded forward, leaving only blood and gore in their path.
At the end of the halls, a large room stood. A heavily armored Argonian was flanked by two guards. At their sight, the guards immediately charged at the Tseasci and the Tang Mo. Xing leaped over the lizard, and in one smooth move, two darts buried in each of the Argonian’s eye sockets. Beside him, Matiyahu also disposed of his enemy, who was now crumpled on the ground, head detached from neck.
“Well, well,” Xing taunted the final Argonian in Tamrielic. “Is this the infamous Lord Barkaan?”
The Argonian’s eyes twitched just a sliver before Xing’s paralyze spell hit him. Barkaan dropped to his knees, but somehow still fully conscious. Just then, another spell came from Xing’s hand. This time, Barkaan finally fell to ground, limp from head to toe.
“Commander Xing, Captain Matiyahu.” a Tang Mo scout blurted as he ran into the room. “Several prisoners were freed by a female Argonian. She killed our men guarding them and escaped into the marshland.”
“I will pursue her,” Matiyahu assured the Tang Mo. “They can run, but they cannot hide”
Thorn, Black Marsh
3rd of Sun’s Height
Dragonguard Captain Matiyahu-Zvi
The Dragonguard captain never agreed with General Abasi-Kil’s usage of mercenaries. To make matters worse, the general hired their millennium old nemesis, the Ka Po’ Tun. Though the Alliance called for a stop to hostilities, the Tiger folks and the Snake folks never really got along as allies.
“You have returned, Captain,” Xing greeted as Matiyahu entered the former meeting room of Barkaan, now the Akaviri center of operations. He was standing within a group of Tang Mo clan masters and a lone Dark Elf. “Like I said, Mistress Dei, your people will man the walls. Master Kun, your clan will watch over the prisoners and enforce curfew.”
Dei and Kun snapped crisp salutes before heading out of the room. Rest of the occupants turned to the newcomers, examining the Tsaesci and Ka Po’ Tun carefully.
“Did you find the female Argonian?” Xing prodded, the room fell silent as Matiyahu felt many sets of eyes upon him.
“No,” he swallowed before continuing again. “The swamps were too dense, we lost track of them.”
“Perhaps you were right, Ildoryn.” Xing shook his head and glanced quickly at the Dunmer. “These Argonians are definitely shadowy creatures.”
“Ildoryn?” The tigress raised her brows in surprise, out of all the people, out of all the places, this was indeed a strange combination.
3rd of Sun’s Height
“S’arah”
After the summit, S’arah and her companions made their way back to Elsweyr. They were initially side tracked by one of the militiamen, who caught a bad case of Rockjoint. While he healed under the care of an Argonian herbalist, the remaining group continued their journey without him. After a week of travel, they arrived in Senchal, only to find it under attack. Without hesitation, the militiamen went to aid their comrades, a hopeless last stand. S’arah, however, slipped out during the chaos and returned back east to Black Marsh.
Almost another week went by before the sight of Pandomaic Ocean greeted her, she was near the city of Thorn, and Thorn was no longer an Argonian city.
“Whoever is in the bushes,” A voice came from the side of her observation spot. “Come out now or we will kill you.”
The tigress took a step forward, hands raised above her head. “I am not armed.”
“A Ka Po’ Tun? What are you doing here?” The people in front of her were six individuals, to her surprise, all of them were Akaviri. The leader was a Tsaesci, who had another snakeman and four Tang Mo following him. “You must be one of our...private agents.”
“Yes,” S’arah agreed. It was time to collect her payment, but in addition, she also needed to report her findings, which could potentially change the tide of their war. “I would need to speak to general Abasi-Kil immediately, there are vital intelligence.”
The Tsaesci shook his head, “The High General is currently based in Ynslea. I am Matiyahu-Zvi, captain of the Dragonguards, second ranking officer on this front. You might want to speak to Commander Xing, he is based in the city.”
Thorn, Black Marsh
2nd of Sun’s Height
According to Ildoryn, the Argonians are capable of waterbreathing. But surprisingly, these natural swimmers operated essentiality no navy. The port of Thorn was small, in fact, most vessels were canoes and fishing boats.
But that was not to say the Argonians didn’t have costal defenses. They had about a few smaller fightings vessels, judging by their appearances, they seemed to be designed for coast patrol or shipping escorts. The Southern Expeditionary Fleet encountered minimal difficulties against their seaborne opponents, led by The Qianfeng, Eastern ships conserved them ammunitions and simply rammed Argonians ships down to the seabed.
At the signs of their arrival, Argonian ground forces started to gather on the docks. Xing frowned at their presence, for the Tang Mo normally strike with the element of surprise, which in this case, was already lost.
“Master Ryu,” the commander summoned. Ryu led the Yin clan, a group of Tang Mo specialized in shock attacks. “Get you men on the docks now, before they can fortify it.”
The Yin warriors were quick to prepare, and within seconds, hundreds of monkeys dove into the sea. These warriors wore enchanted boots, which allowed them to walk on water. Some of them were also aided by potions and illusion spells, making them invisible to the defenders.
When the Argonians noticed the attack, many of them already fell. The cloaked fighters were already at the docks, cutting through their enemies while staying hidden. The main group also closed it, they threw shurikens and darts, both poisoned with the most lethal toxin from the Thousand Isles.
Beside Xing, the Tsaesci Dragonguard appeared. Matiyahu was observing intently at the battle, taking in every moves by his allies and foes.
“The Yin warriors are most impressive, no?” Xing questioned.
“Their tactics are very,” pausing for a brief moment, Matiyahu searched for the right word. “Unique.”
Xing smiled under his mask, he knew the Tsaesci were too proud to admit it, but Matiyahu was no doubt impressed by the display. “It is time for us to do our part. Perhaps your Dragonguards would fancy a few moves of your own?”
Few hours later
While the Argonians were pathetic on water, their fight was much more fierce on land. After the shock of their attacks worn out, the lizards organized a decent defense. They were good fighters, but not good enough to repel a joint Tang Mo/Tseasci assault. While many Eastern fighters fell during the battle, more than double the amount of lizards lay dead.
The resistance had became weak now, as Xing, Matiyahu and a small group of Tang Mo and Tsaesci soldiers stood in front of a palace.
“My men saw most of them retreating in here.” Matiyahu pointed to the palace’s doors.
“Good, all of the lambs gathered in one slaughter house.” Xing chuckled at the lizards’ foolish actions. “Let us finish this battle.”
Gathering a ball of alteration energy, Xing casted a spell to open the lock. Following the spell, the Tang Mo kicked the doors open, sending splintered wood at several surprised Argonian guards.
“Lord Barkaan, they-” Xing was quick to react, before his enemies could run, a shuriken was already buried in each of their throats. Matiyahu followed on with the attack, cutting down two more guards with his katana. They group proceeded forward, leaving only blood and gore in their path.
At the end of the halls, a large room stood. A heavily armored Argonian was flanked by two guards. At their sight, the guards immediately charged at the Tseasci and the Tang Mo. Xing leaped over the lizard, and in one smooth move, two darts buried in each of the Argonian’s eye sockets. Beside him, Matiyahu also disposed of his enemy, who was now crumpled on the ground, head detached from neck.
“Well, well,” Xing taunted the final Argonian in Tamrielic. “Is this the infamous Lord Barkaan?”
The Argonian’s eyes twitched just a sliver before Xing’s paralyze spell hit him. Barkaan dropped to his knees, but somehow still fully conscious. Just then, another spell came from Xing’s hand. This time, Barkaan finally fell to ground, limp from head to toe.
“Commander Xing, Captain Matiyahu.” a Tang Mo scout blurted as he ran into the room. “Several prisoners were freed by a female Argonian. She killed our men guarding them and escaped into the marshland.”
“I will pursue her,” Matiyahu assured the Tang Mo. “They can run, but they cannot hide”
Thorn, Black Marsh
3rd of Sun’s Height
Dragonguard Captain Matiyahu-Zvi
The Dragonguard captain never agreed with General Abasi-Kil’s usage of mercenaries. To make matters worse, the general hired their millennium old nemesis, the Ka Po’ Tun. Though the Alliance called for a stop to hostilities, the Tiger folks and the Snake folks never really got along as allies.
“You have returned, Captain,” Xing greeted as Matiyahu entered the former meeting room of Barkaan, now the Akaviri center of operations. He was standing within a group of Tang Mo clan masters and a lone Dark Elf. “Like I said, Mistress Dei, your people will man the walls. Master Kun, your clan will watch over the prisoners and enforce curfew.”
Dei and Kun snapped crisp salutes before heading out of the room. Rest of the occupants turned to the newcomers, examining the Tsaesci and Ka Po’ Tun carefully.
“Did you find the female Argonian?” Xing prodded, the room fell silent as Matiyahu felt many sets of eyes upon him.
“No,” he swallowed before continuing again. “The swamps were too dense, we lost track of them.”
“Perhaps you were right, Ildoryn.” Xing shook his head and glanced quickly at the Dunmer. “These Argonians are definitely shadowy creatures.”
“Ildoryn?” The tigress raised her brows in surprise, out of all the people, out of all the places, this was indeed a strange combination.
solamelike said
Canada
SyrianHamster said
Syria
Welcome, hopefully you'll stay longer than a while.
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