18+ Hands of the Sorrowful Knight

[EpicVakarian]

As we set off, I could sense some small disturbance. I delved into it, and discovered Alice and Titus talking to each other through some illusion magic. Something about a pretty Nord woman and getting a pole wet. I sighed slightly, immediately retreating from the conversation, not wanting to imagine what Titus was imagining about me. Instead, I just marched alongside Titus awkwardly, scratching my head. Vladier's invisibility seemed to work, and the four of us vanished.

We set off, thunder marking our decision. Gore splattered the ground, and pieces of corpses were scattered around like so many dead flies. I held a hand to my mouth and looked away, struggling not to vomit. I was glad for Vladier's invisibility; I had a feeling Titus and Kvothe would both think less of me for my strangely weak stomach. I wasn't usually this easily disturbed, but violence on this scale has that effect on people.

I leaned over to where I assumed Titus was and whispered,
"This is horrible. We need to fix this. And, you know I know what you were thinking? Perhaps I can do something about that. But save those thoughts for now. Right now, I'm your shield-sister. Only think otherwise once we're out of this damned place." I felt as though a wink was in order, but as we were invisible, there would be no point. I simply stood up straight and kept following Kvothe and Vladier.

 

[Pufftuff]

As the Dunmer and the twin girl climbed up to roof on one side of the road, the Bosmer and Khajiit climbed up the other side. Vladier readied himself for the strain of holding that spell for the trek. I cast the spell over the remaining group.

They started their march through what was once Rorikstead, now it could only be called a rotten decomposing corpse of a town. As the group walked, Vladier was looking a corpses those that had risen and those that had just been left to rot. If he wasn't so used to it the sight might make him flinch. The strong young women that was in the rose petal cloak looked ill, Vladier didn't think that she knew he could still see her. He didn't look down on her you'd have to be a monster to not be a little affected, like him....

 

[Kir the Silent]

The group moved in silence for several minutes. Kvothe navigated them through the decimated town, each sight they saw far more gruesome and unspeakable than the last. Body parts and mutilated organs littered the streets. Black blood and crimson alike decorated the ground and walls. of buildings, maggots and carrion flies swarmed in places; disrespecting those now dead. But some of the worst things he saw involved women and children, even newborn babes.

Impaled on spears by dead hands or still held in a ravaged mother's corpse as she gave her life to protect the child that never had a chance to truly live. What kind of person, monster, could have brought such devastation upon this once thriving community? This was a new age, of peace and acceptance. But it seemed due to die a quick death.

As they moved silently through the town, now a mass grave, they all remained silent. Each thinking to themselves and dealing with these sights in their own way. Whether attempting to ignore them or just letting themselves openly mourn and be sick. He couldn't blame them for either approach. This was brutal even by evil's standards. This was a whole new game...no, not game. A whole new type of war against all that was good in this world. WHo could be responsible for this horror? Who was powerful enough to lead such an army?

Worse still...who was powerful enough to make them disappear? This especially worried Kvothe, for as they moved through the ruined town and closed in on their destination they saw not one skeleton or undead. They finally came to the courtyard in the center of Rorikstead. A large circular area that was once their market with a grand fountain in the middle. Now the marble fountain and ruined, yet still colorful market stalls were a grim and sorrowful reminder of how much had been lost. Across the square lay a large temple to Talos, it's several spires reaching up into the dusk filled sky. The windows had been boarded up hastily and crude barricades blocked the door, so hope remained for survivors hiding within. The group was on the opposite side of the courtyard, which means they would have to cross out in the open. Even with illusions spells it was risky, as they would have no cover. And Kvothe knew right away that something was not right...it had been far too easy to get this far.

He looked around to his companions and nodded solemnly; they had no choice. To rescue the survivors of this tragedy and get to the bottom of this slaughter, they had to cross. He signaled for them to cross the near-empty market. The stalls just splinters not even a foot tall, not enough to hide an ankle yet alone one of the companions that moved silently and carefully across. They were only a few yards from the entrance door when two figures burst from a nearby building.

They wore tattered yellow cloth around worn quilted armor; Whiterun guards by the look of them. They quickly closed the door behind them and collapsed exhausted. It seemed they had been running.

"What in all of damned Oblivion was that!?!" Said one to the other, in a hushed but urgent tones. They didn't notice the group of companions who still remained invisible to the untrained eye.

"Quiet..." He looked around worriedly and then seemed to speak to himself. "We never should have left the temple...that...thing seems to lead others and cut down the others with us with like they were wheat before the scythe. At least we made it back. We can knock on the door and beg them to let us back in. Then we can just-"

A loud crashing sound erupted from the building they had exited. One of the guards was sent flying several feet and the other disappeared in a cloud of dust. The guard that had been thrown clear coughed and slowly got to his feet, looking to the the dust cloud and softly calling for Bjorn; that must be the other guard.

Just as Kvothe signaled for them to lower the illusions, so they could approach and help the man. But as he did a shadow fell across the guard and then vanished just as quickly. The guard's face looked inquisitive, confused. He coughed once. Then twice, blood coming from his nose and mouth. The spell must have been dropped as the man slowly stumbled and turned to look at Kvothe with the others. His face asking, "What happened?"

That's when he fell in two; cut from shoulder to sternum. The dust finally cleared and in the coming moonlight...it stood. Standing before the building it had cut in half with a single blow, was a large undead creature.

Standing ten feet tall and wielding a massive, brutal-looking great axe it stared down the would-be heroes, it's next victims. Kvothe readied himself. It was massive, powerful enough to cut a damned building in half, but it was fast as well. It had cut the man asunder before he could register what had happened. This was not the work of some simple necromancer, nor even a coven. This...was something far worse.

It walked forward a few feet, slowly, dragging it's executioner's axe along the ground as it did. The sound of metal on stone grating and filling the air, sparks flying from the bloody blade. It stopped and said but one word...

"...Blood..."

It's horrible scratchy voice, quiet yet loud at the same time, was like a signal. At that other undead began to appear, closing in on them. Not only would they have to fight this...Executioner, but his minions as well. Kvothe looked to the others and yelled, "Don't get surrounded and kill off all the small ones first! But for the love of any god you hold dear; DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE WHORE-BORN BASTARD WITH THE AXE!"

With that...the battle was joined.

 

[EpicVakarian]

We suddenly stopped on the edge of the town square. We began to cross at Kvothe's order, but as we passed the door to the market, two Whiterun guards emerged from the door and began to run before the building burst; throwing bits of rock all over the square. I could only see the one guard left as a silhouette; and when the silhouette fell apart, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of fear. The dust cleared and a huge draugr-like monster was standing there, a huge battleaxe hanging from its hand as it dragged it across the ground, heading for the newly uncovered group. And as if that wasn't enough, swarms of undead rose from the ground, surrounding us. I could only hope that Alice, the Dunmer, the Khajiit and the Bosmer would provide cover for us.

But in the meantime, I drew Sol quickly, letting its light flow across the undead hordes. I gave it a little flourish, putting it just beside my ear, poised to strike, while my left hand let a flicker of flame cross my fingers, ready to throw a fireball into the fray.

I forced myself to remain calm; I had been trained by the Vigilants; I was an expert at fighting undead, and with Sol's enchantment, it would cut through them like butter.

"If you can get me to the big one, I can take it down." The others looked at me doubtfully. "Trust me. I can do this."

I opened up the fighting with a fireball, thrown at the group of undead in front of me. Five of them were flung backwards, now truly dead. The rest of them swarmed me, and I used my training and my agility to dodge their attacks before performing an elegant strike to tear through a line of them. I was now surrounded, but the undead lacked discipline and lacked intelligence, so I simply stuck my blade out and span in a circle until I was dizzy. I was suddenly surrounded by a small hill of bodies, so I let them come closer and did it again, raising the hill to a perfectly round mound of corpses. I climbed to the top and gained the high ground. Now I could simply turn in a circle and hack at any that came too close. I lost count of all the bodies underneath me, but kept killing more, hoping that Kvothe, Vladier and Titus were doing as well.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

The imposing undead monster and its horde of zombies were imposing as Astius watched from the shadows. Anything alive can be killed, he thought with calm certainty. As the horde began its relatively slow advance, the Imperial plotted out what he would do. He was not dressed for open combat - perhaps he should not have foregone a quick change of armor - so agility and some relative stealth would be key. There was nothing to conceal himself behind out in the plaza of the fountain, but he would have a bit of surprise on his side if he sprung from the shadow and took as many undead as he could before they could react. "Don't get surrounded and kill off all the small ones first! But for the love of any god you hold dear; DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE WHORE-BORN BASTARD WITH THE AXE!" Kvothe ordered.

Astius broke from his cover and without hesitation slashed his hidden blade across the neck of a nearby zombie, following with a strong swipe from his gauntleted forearm that knocked the loose-hanging head clean off. He deftly put down two more, pushing further into the mass of walking dead, focusing on decimating the cranium of every foe he met. As dead filled out the holes left by the Imperial in their ranks, Astius was a whirlwind of gold-tinted moonlight, stabbing a zombie on his right, then on his left, then kicking one behind his back and swinging his left arm around and bringing to bear his wrist-mounted crossbow, the bolt of which cracked through the brittle skull of the monster. His element of surprise was gone.

Astius put his hands together in front of him as the undead came closer, a dull white glow emanating from within his grasp. Steam escaped between his fingertips, and he thrust his hands down. What followed was a blast of searing-hot steam, pushing back a wide radius of zombies and eviscerating the closest few rows to varying degrees. He drew his saber, which gleamed even in the dim light of the night, and twirled it around, cleaving clean through two or three undead. Now that he had put a hole in the enemy, it was time to get back to a safer position. He swirled orbs of ice and flame in his left palm until they melded into steam, then let out a stream of scalding water vapor that burnt the dry flesh from the zombies' faces, staggering them back; in an instant he was back cutting his way through those that stood in the way of distance and open ground.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Valin continued to move along side Majir-Dar. The were about to reach the market area. The leaf had began to take effect, yet nothing more came. Not the smell of life, he could only barely make out his comrades scents.

As the reached the market place Valin stepped out onto the edge of the building, and crouched. He stayed that way as he watch two guards chaotically get thrown around and then destroyed.

Valin saw as a large, terrible monster not of this world step out of the dust. With one word, undead crawled out of alleyways, windows, and chimneys. Valin hoped that Majir-Dar hadn't taken down the illusion just yet.

"Don't get surrounded and kill off all the small ones first! But for the love of any god you hold dear; DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE WHORE-BORN BASTARD WITH THE AXE!" Kvothe called out, easily audible.

Valin had no hesitation, he stood up, and pulled back his bow. An arrow was loosed, causing a dead man to fall to the ground. Valin ran across the roof tops, quickly firing, and changing targets. He jumped onto chimneys and ended the undead as the charged towards him.

The ranger watched as they went up in flames with each arrow, the rooftops became a beacon of light on the dark city. Valin jumped off his chimney and continued to run along he came within two paces of a creature and dropped an arrow in his eye. He pulled a arrow out of his quiver and swung it to his right, it cut ones chest and the thing began to burn and turn to ash.

Valin had taken down a decent bit of them, but they seemed to keep coming. Valin looked about for a true source, but he could find none. It was this that caused the sudden throbbing pain in the back of his head.

The ranger fell to the ground and looked as a disformed monster held a large club over top of its head preparing to bring it down. Valin's bow was out of reach, he rolled to his left as the thing swung its club downward. Valin kicked it in its side and stood up. He quickly reached down and puled a knife out of his boot. The bosmer slashed at the thing and stabbed it in the neck. He sheathed his knife as the thing fell.

Once he reached his bow, he saw he had a clear shot at the giant monster. Valin pulled three arrows from his quiver and fired them all in unison. They flew through the air and struck the thing in the side. Valin heard a slight crack of bones, but the thing was unfazed. Valin quickly ducked behind a chimney to his left as the monster looked over, seeming to be only angered by the attack.

This is gonna be one difficult battle. Valin thought to himself as he ducked out from the cover and began to rain arrows on the undead below.

 

[Kir the Silent]

"...Blood..."

Death spewed forth from the dark, hidden places of this town that once held such promise and hope. Crawling torso continued to attack, spreading gore as they hungrily sought out the living. Skeletons with bits of flesh still clinging to their ravaged bones wielded weapons and rushed the warm bodies in the courtyard.

The large one, the one the living referred to as the Executioner, looked around with empty sockets glowing unnaturally. Something thudded against it's side and it turned to looked where the sound originated from; a fleshling on the roof.

The Executioner saw the other undead being defeated and started to move. It's ancient armor rattling, the ground trembling, and it's axe causing a horrid screeching sound as it slide across the stone. The fleshlings were busy it seemed and the large creature hefted it's axe, moving faster and faster. Before long it was towering over one. One with black and white hair. Just as he brought the axe down, the strange looking fleshling disappeared. His axe sunk into the stone as easily as air filled the lungs of the living. Drawing his axe from the stone he looked around just in time to see the lightning heading for it's head.

_____________________________________________________________________

Kvothe smiled grimly as the lightning struck the thing directly in it's face. He knew that wouldn't do much to slow down the behemoth, let alone defeat it, but it bought them some time to deal with the ravenous horde at least. He turned his attention back to the zombies and skeletal warriors. A bit of sorrow hit him. They were people once...with hopes, dreams...lives...but those things had been stolen from them. None had been spared; neither men, women, nor children.

Righteous anger and pity filled him. He began to hover a foot or so above the ground, arcane energy emanating from him. He released a torrent of flame from one hand, scorching the dead to ash and charred skeletons, and with the other lightning sundered the skulls of those nearby. It was an impressive feat of magic power, but he was only beginning.

_____________________________________________________________________

The Executioner turned his attention away from the strange fleshling, who was now on the other side of the courtyard, and now turned towards another fleshing standing on top of a pile of dead bodies. Her weapons was bright to the giant undead, it was a warning. The Executioner was smart enough to understand it must be an effective weapon against the dead, but the brute was no simple undead. This fleshling now stared at him, called out to him in challenge. This fleshling seriously underestimated this dead warrior.

He cleaved a dozen undead before him in a single blow, clearing a path to this fleshling. A female fleshling. She and her bright sword would be no match for the darkness that fueled this abomination. He hefted his axe and with surprising speed brought it down onto the pile of bodies she had been standing on. If she was a slow fleshling, she would soon be in two pieces.

 

[EpicVakarian]

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the huge creature bringing down its battleaxe on me. It was almost a knee-jerk reaction; I immediately gave up the high ground, cartwheeling away from the blow and slashing into the thing's leg as I passed him. I was surprised to see that even Sol couldn't completely cut it through; the enchantment was incredibly powerful. And yet, I barely managed to draw its black, decayed, dead blood.

I grimaced at Kvothe over the courtyard and dodged another attack from the creature. I sprinted towards Kvothe.
"This is going to be a tough one," I yelled at him, lopping the head off a dead man that was trying to take Kvothe by surprise.

I looked up at the creature, that was now lumbering towards us. I glanced quickly at Kvothe to make sure he realised, then leapt forward to dodge it. I was now directly under it; I cast a spell that magnified my leg strength, so I could jump up to the ten-foot-high creature's head. I stabbed Sol into its shoulder to stabilize myself then cast an unreal amount of fireballs into its eyes. It roared, and raised a hand without me noticing. He flung me off as easily as I would flick off a fly, and I didn't have time to cast a spell to stabilize myself, so I simply crashed into the ground hard, bowling over a large amount of undead with my rolling body.

Before any of the undead could take advantage of my position, I rolled over and threw myself upwards elegantly, using my momentum to carry Sol's blade through the skull of an enemy. Its head split, leaving the two halves, still attached to the neck, to collapse sideways. As the thing fell, each half of its brain splattered onto the ground. I gagged as I tore at another group of undead, slicing them in half. Sol's enchantment worked as intended on the normal undead; tearing through them like I had strength matching the huge abomination looming over us.

I looked up to the Bosmer archer, and waved to catch his attention while cutting away at more undead. I mouthed cover clearly, pointing to the undead around me. He nodded and peppered the bodies around me with arrows and felling them for good. I gave him a thumbs-up as I sprinted away to help Titus.

"You doing okay?" I had to yell again, over the clash of steel and the roars of the giant. I got back-to-back with Titus, fighting off wave after wave of undead, guarding his back while he guarded mine.

There seemed to be no end to the creatures; I was sure I'd dismembered more undead than were here in the first place. I couldn't think of it now, though, so I simply kept flourishing my blade and hacking at the hordes, keeping an eye on the giant to make sure it didn't catch us off-guard.

 

[Majir-Dar]

Majir-Dar smiled at Valin and accepted the herb. As he chewed it he could already feel the hideous aroma of the dead leave his nostrils. As he chewed and ran along the various rooftops, he couldn't help but overhear a conversation between Titus and his sister. I guess that means one of them won't be invited to the orgy. Well, then again, I suppose if they're okay with a little incest I'll be fine with it.

Majir-Dar shook himself from his disturbing thoughts as two Whiterun guards burst out into the open. He tried to get closer, as to decipher their words but just as he reached the edge of his roof a magnificent explosion occurred. The guards disappeared into the smoke that followed and Majir-Dar was hit with some shrapnel. This caused him to go flying backwards, and as he was in the air, he lost focus and the invisibility spell was gone as well.

Majir-Dar jumped to his feet, as he did so he cast an illusion spell. The illusion spell would activate nearly 90% of his muscles, the ones that would normally go unused were being used. Illusion magic works as a placebo effect, making my body believe that it's in far more danger then it is. It will then activate parts of my brain and muscles that would normally go unused and wasted. He then ran over to the edge of the building, saw his fellow comrades and cast it on them as well. He saw the green swirl of energy and departed before the mammoth sized Draugr caught wind of him. They could thank him later, and Majir-Dar truly did expect a thank you, whether they knew the spell was cast or not.

He noticed the Imperial, Astius, start cutting away undead. He did so with small, assassin tools. Hidden blades and crossbows. Odd that he chose such weaponry to fight undead but it was his choice. Majir-Dar then noticed Lyanna swirling in the wind in a spectacular gold and pedal circle. He saw her turn her attention to the undead behemoth and admired her abilities and her body. I wander if she can put her ankles behind her head.

He then started flinging fireballs at the undead. As much as the herb was helping, his nose still caught the stench of burning, decayed flesh. He managed to cast using both hands and his tail. A complicated process but one the Dagi have mastered over time. He ran across the roof tops as he slew undead, using the various stone works to his advantage. At one point, he even hid inside a chimney, as the behemoth started to notice (or just start to care) about the small cat on the rooftops.

He then jumped out of the chimney, he ripped whatever flesh was left, off the endless undead. He saw his spells burning and tearing away flesh, heating bones, and melting their poor excuses of eyes. Majir-Dar soon turned his attention to the behemoth. The monster was giving even Kvothe trouble. He started casting massive fireball spells, ones that would put any college mage to shame. They exploded into multiple smaller fireballs, which on contact with the lesser undead, would then explode upon their flesh as well. He made sure to weave the fireballs out of everyone's way, as he knew there was nothing worse then a careless mage.

 

[CapObvious]

It all happened so quickly. What looked to be thousands of undead were storming there position, and it was unlike anything Dolmas had ever seen.

But nothing, not even the sight of undead hordes, could prepare him for the next thing he saw.

"...Blood..."

His eyes finally came upon the largest of them all, and watched as any attack they threw at him fell flat on its arse.

The moment of it slicing that guard in two replayed over and over in his head.

This wasn't going to be easy.

As if narrating what Dolmas was seeing, he heard Kvothe shout above the crowding hordes. Don't get surrounded and kill off all the small ones first! But for the love of any god you hold dear; DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE WHORE-BORN BASTARD WITH THE AXE!"

Valen slipped through for a moment, and he spoke aloud, but odds are not loud enough to be heard.

"Believe me. I won't."

Dolmas regained composure and jumped off the roof and rolled to his feet, slicing through them with his cutlass as he did so. More started to swarm him, as they didn't really see him coming. Dolmas cut through them fine, but felt that for every one he killed, two came out of the shadows to take its place.

Valen began raging against his prison. "My turn!" He demanded. Dolmas ignored him and cut through a few more, beginning to believe this was futile.

Then, another voice came over the crowd, setting of the inevitable.

"If you can get me to the big one, I can take it down."

Like hell you will! You're not about to have all the fun! Valen cried.

Finally fed up, Dolmas responded.

Damn it, Valen, Shut up!

Valen heard this, and things went quiet in there for a moment. Dolmas took advantage of this and cut through a few more undead, two of which were heading for the large-ward woman as she had her back turned, looking toward the giant beast and throwing a fireball at the small ones that were coming toward her.

Valen spoke again, this time, Dolmas only caught a fraction of what he was saying.

"...how about a little help?"

Dolmas was about to question him, but it was too late.

He was calling the beast.

Dolmas didn't try to fight it, as he knew how painful it could be to fight his shifting.

He just waited for the chorus of shifting bones to begin.

 

[CapObvious]

But nothing happened.

Dolmas opened his eyes and looked about himself, confused. After another moment, his head started to pound, and a low cackle escaped his lips as Dolmas desperately reached for his head, clawing for any way to keep in control.

But it was all for naught.

"You make this too easy, Dolm!" Valen squawked.

Valen nearly giggled with glee as he brought his hands back to his blade, reaching instead for the katana on his back. He cut through a few of the undead, shouting his glee to the heavens.

"IT"S SHOWTIME!"

Without another moment to spare, Valen began to hack at the undead haphazardly, chopping them up into even dicier bits then they were in when they came to him.

Loud laughs escaped his lips as he cleaved his way though the enemy. He was having so much fun!

Meanwhile Dolm beat on his cage for release, but Valen ignored him. "See how it feels to watch from the sidelines?!" He proclaimed, running his blade through two undead at once, "shiskababing" them together before slicing both of the their heads off with one swing.

But it wasn't long before the big prize came into view, and Valen's smile widened in anticipation.

He stepped up toward the large undead giant, and tapped his blade on the floor to get its attention. Once Valen got its eyes to focus on him, he waved. "Well hello there! How about you fight someone who actually poses a threat!" In response to Valen, the giant draugr swept his long axe through the air at him, obviously with the intent of cutting of his head. Valen fell to the floor as the blade swung overhead, then kicked himself back up to his feet.

"You're going to be SO much fun to kill!" Valen declared, unfazed by his near decapitation. So. Much. FUN.

 

[Pufftuff]

As the group walking into the once sprawling marketplace, a dark evil presence made itself felt. Vladier could almost feel the weight of it on him. Two guards burst forth from a building, Vladier dropped the illusion spell around the group, suddenly they were ended by the large behemoth of an undead.

The relative calm that they walked through was broken as the dead began to rise. "Don't get surrounded and kill off all the small ones first! But for the love of any god you hold dear; DON'T FORGET ABOUT THE WHORE-BORN BASTARD WITH THE AXE!" Kvothe called out, Vladier looked around as the dead crawled out of buildings and window and even shallow graves. That stench of death he knew oh so well became overwhelming.

Watching as his comrades began to fight the undead hordes, the necromancer decided to help the group he grabbed control of ten of the dead, it was childs play to him since they were already risen. He looked around to see that the group was although capable fighters the shear numbers of the horde were proving to be a challenge. Not to mention the fact that the dead continued to rise even after being felled. Vladier sent his minions to protect the right flank, the Bosmer and Khajiit were busy on the rooftops.

Realizing they had to figure a way to stop this creature, that seemed invincible. The woman with the rose petal cloak and the vigilant, was cutting down the undead in droves and standing atop their corpses. The large creature turned to her and swung it's enormous axe hitting the pile of corpses, throwing gore and blood and body parts off the nearby buildings.

"Lyanna!" Vladier couldn't remember if that was her name, he signaled her over. "I need to cast a spell but I'll have to enter a trance for a time. Can you keep my head attached to my shoulders?" He looked around for the right body, the broken soldier that had gotten thrown would be perfect.

Vladier raised the corpse, then his eye's started to glow and he sat down, as he took direct control over the body. Now in full control of the guard as if it was himself. He picked up a near by axe, swinging to the left then the right, taking the heads off of undead as he sneaked around the giant one with the axe, which was currently focused on the Dunmer. He ran up a pile of corpses and jumped on the back of the Draugr, Vladier studied the creature as best he can in the 30 seconds that he was on the fiend, it grabbed the guard threw it to the ground and stomped on the guards body smashing it into a muddy bloody soup.

As the corpse he was controlling died Vladier snapped back into his body he fell over and coughed up blood as he tried to regain his composure. Vladier stood up and vomited black blood, once he could speak again, he yelled to Kvothe. "Theres a soul gem in its skull, black the size of my head!" Hoping the young Breton would pass the info on to the rest of the group. "If we shatter it the beast should fall."

 

[EpicVakarian]

"Lyanna!"
I tapped on Titus' shoulder and jerked my head towards Vladier to make sure Titus knew I wasn't watching his back any more. Then I prepared myself and sprinted through the horde, slashing wildly to clear my path.

I nodded at Vladier's request, and began to fight off the undead from around him, making sure he wasn't taken out while he was inactive. I noticed the guard from earlier get up, and assumed that was what Vladier was controlling. After about a minute, Vladier woke up with a gasp, coughing up black blood as he was rushed back into his true body.

He called to Kvothe, mentioning a soul gem in the giant's head, and how it would be a weakness. I put a hand on Vladier's shoulder.
"Well done." I nodded to him, then leaped over the horde, using more magic to avoid the undead. I landed right beside Kvothe, slicing off a bony hand that was reaching for his leg and yelling to him.
"You need to get up there and take that thing out. I can get you up there, and I can defend you while you're there. But you'll have to get rid of the gem yourself. You in?"

 

[Simus]

Alice watched in horror as a monstrous drauger warlord cleaved through both an entire building and two Whiterun guards. Most likely the last of their unit, sent to liberate this city and now a part of it forever. She silently lamented their loss but not for long. An entire horde of drauger swarmed out of every corner of Rorikstead. Every door, every window, every sewer cover, they came from everywhere. They even climbed out of charred piles of their own dead. A vain attempt by the townsfolk to truly deplete their numbers. The dead became a rotting, unbreathing wall of bodies, one that rallied around their leader. He must have been at least ten feet tall and had a huge rusty executioners ax. Titus was itching to cross blades with it, to test his strength and worth but Alice slowly shook her head. That monster was beyond any one of them. They would have to thin its minions as much as possible and then all take it on together. Only then could they strike such a best down. Alice only then noticed how hard it was raining even though she had put her hood up long before, and noticed that it was now nightfall. There was no moon in the sky. A truly ominous battleground for the enemy they faced. The "Executioner" looked toward the group and uttered a single chest-rattling word.

"...Blood..."

The horde gave a unified unholy scream and charged. Titus wasted no time. He gave the loudest battlecry he could muster and charged in with Lyanna. Her sword cleaved through the undead as if she were Stendarr himself and a pile of eight corpses soon grow into a dismembered, perfectly made mound of at least twenty. She climbed on top of it and spun in a circle until she was dizzy, chopping up several more undead as they tried to advance and keeping the rest of them at bay. Titus didn't have the holy energy Lyanna had to smite their foes but he did have a large well made ax and the strength of a man twice his weight. He cleaved through the undead like a charging bull, slicing one in half along the torso then crushing its skull with his foot. He decapitated another and sent its head flying into one of the weaker ones, knocking its head clean off. He struck the ground so hard he created a shockwave that blew a path through to Lyanna's mound. He stood his ground and cleaved through another undead, then another. One of them tripped on its fallen comrades and it met the blunt end of Titus' ax, smashing its head in and ending it forever. He had taken several wounds and his armor was dented all over but he paid no heed. Rage was his greatest weapon in battle and he had learned how to harness it into a truly mighty weapon. He allowed it to fill his mind and take him to a higher state of consciousness. One where there was no pain or fear and where he was a perfect killing machine. It was a place Alice could not go, a single advantage he had over her. He took pride in that advantage. He would win or he would die.

Lyanna stepped down from her mound and patted his back to signify that she wasn't watching his back any more. Titus took her position on the mound of corpses and took a moment to listen to his gnawing wolf spirit. His rage was at its peak, it could feel it, it was begging to be set loose. Under normal circumstances it took all of Titus' discipline to control it but this was no longer the time for careful planning and clever tactics. It was a time for unbound rage. Titus sprinted off the pile and into a ruined building just after Alice fired a fireball-infused arrow into the oncoming drauger. The fireball exploded in a brilliant flash of light that blinded many of the drauger and gave Titus cover to escape. He stripped out of his armor as fast as he could, dropping his armor plated belt, his battleaxe, his dagger, his sword and shield. Then he ripped his gauntlets, boots and steel chestplate. Followed by undoing the leather fastners that closed the rest of his armor. All of the steel plates and insulating fur was riveted to a short sleeved leather bodysuit, thus making dressing and undressing much simpler than attaching several pieces of armor piecemeal. Finally naked after thirty seconds, He gave the wolf spirit permission to be let out and his rage spilled over. His pupils dilated as the shifting began. Bones groaned and cracked, skin rippled, muscles and tendons swelled to enormous size. He grew to a full seven feet and became covered in ebony black fur. It was simultaneously the most painful and the most exhilarating thing he had ever felt.

With the transformation complete, he unleashed the beast.

He smashed through the door of the ruined building as if it were paper. The door was blow clean off and the frame and three inches of surrounding wall became a shower of splinters. The drauger fell silent for a moment as they witnessed the monster Titus had become. His was the loudest entrance since their leader and they recognized him as a worthy enemy. Titus gave an earsplitting roar that paralyzed all around him and then sprung forward a full ten feet in the air. He crushed a drauger under his weight then started cleaving through the undead three at a time. A large drauger with a battleaxe charged him and managed to wound his shoulder, but that only furthered his rage. With a powerful swipe from each of his wickidly clawed hands he severed its ax and both its arms. It gave a yell of protest and Titus responded by grabbing its head with both hands. The iron helmet did little to protect its wearer and in a moment its head was crushed into a bloody pulp between Titus' massive claws. The corpse fell to the ground and Titus clawed it apart as if it were a ragdoll, then started ripping the limbs and trunk into every smaller pieces with his massive teeth. He knocked down another drauger and tore it apart in a similar manner. Every corpse he fell was ripped apart with his fangs and claws and he quickly became a bloody mess. He was now completely lost to rage and charged towards a frail girl he no longer recognized wielding a glowing sword he could not tolerate.

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Alice had made her way over to Valin's rooftop position and was assisting with fire support. She drew Mother's Fire, her longbow of fifteen years, and knocked a flameburst arrow. She released it into the thickest concentration of drauger she could see and fired, causing them to explode in a brilliant ball of fire. Five drauger were reduced to flaming corpses, one of them completely exploded from the impact of the arrow. She did this three more times with similar results but they just kept coming and seemed to completely absorb the losses she had inflicted. She did the best she could to assist the others if things got too tough with regular steel arrows. Astius dodging and weaving in between attacks and striking with waves of steam, dagger and wrist mounted crossbow. Majir-Dar casting huge fireballs three at a time while using his small size and speed to his advantage. Dolmas wildly slashing and stabbing in what looked chillingly similar to a psychotic break. Vladir controlling the very monsters they were fighting to do his bidding. Kavothe casting bolts of brilliant lightning and turning the undead to ash.

For every drauger Alice killed two more took its place. She quickly ran out of arrows and had only two hard tipped ebony arrows left. They were hard enough to punch through ebony plate and she would need them for a killing blow against the Executioner. For now, it was time to join the fray.

Activating the runes of quickening in her ankles, Alice somersaulted into the air and landed next to Lyanna. Drawing her shortsword Father's Steel in one hand and conjuring a flames spell in the other she got out of her landing crouch and burned the drauger. She channeled the spell through her sword and an orange cone of flame erupted from it. She stayed back to back with Lyanna and Vladir and moved her cone back and forth like a hose. Over a dozen unded were set on fire and the weaker ones simply fell apart at this. Alice kept up the spell for a full thirty seconds, then her magika ran dry. It was then that she noticed Titus, now a raging werewolf, charging straight toward Lyanna. If she didn't move right now she'd be torn apart. Alice turned around and yelled in Lyanna's ear.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" She yelled, pointing to the charging Titus.

 

[CapObvious]

Swing.

Valen ducked hard to the left and dodged the blade, but only barely. The wind that came from the force of the swing was almost enough alone to sweep Valen off his feet.

But Valen didn't let it faze him. He only continued to mock.

"Come on you big oaf! Can't you crush the little man?"

Swing.

This swing came much closer, and ended up cutting a good portion of Valen's jacket. Not only that , but it almost hit one of the others, but Valen didn't care enough to see who it was.

Dolmas did, however, and made sure his displeasure as known.

Valen, enough! You're going to get the others killed!

Valen ignored his plea, and mocked the enormous draugr again.

Dolmas couldn't take it any longer.

With enough force to mimic the thu'um, Dolmas raged against his internal prison.

ENOUGH!

Within a split second, Dolmas was back in control, with barely enough time to dodge the ax.

Swing.

Dolmas leapt back, finally returning to the bulk of the ground team, and took a moment to get his bearings. However, that moment was cut short, as an alarming shout came from behind them.

"OUT OF THE WAY!"

That sounded like Alice!

He turned around quickly, to see her pointing at the merc woman.

No, correction. What was charging at the merc woman.

Before letting himself think, or letting her turn to see what it was, Dolmas made a giant leap for the woman, catching her off guard. He caught her in the waist with his shoulder, throwing them both to the ground.

They were out of harms way. For the moment anyway.

Dolmas made sure the woman was alright, before looking to see what the creature was. When he did so, his train of thought stopped. The hulking figure. The dark fur. The mangy muzzle.

There was another wolf here.

Dolmas didn't know how to react to this. His body started to feel tense, but he tried his best to focus on the big bastard with the ax.

He recalled the old man saying something about a soul gem within the things head. He worked his way back to where the old man and the mystic were, and spoke quickly.

"I'll help anyway I can. Just tell me what to do."

 

[EpicVakarian]

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and someone yelled in my ear. In the heat of battle, it was muffled, but I looked for the source and found Alice beside me, screaming at me and pointing behind me. I turned quickly, and saw a werewolf careening towards me with its teeth bared. My eyes widened. I was paralyzed in shock, and if I didn't move soon, the thing would kill me. But my legs wouldn't move.

Just in time, the strange Dunmer crashed into my waist. He pushed me out of the way, and barely managed to escape the creature's jaws himself. We got up quickly, with me rubbing my ribs where he had collided with me, but otherwise unhurt.
"Thanks. I owe you! Now, why in Oblivion is there a werewolf?!" The last sentence was directed at Alice. I was now struggling to defend myself; my bruised waist was causing me to have to almost double over to remain in control, but I managed it. One of the undead managed to nick my leg with its sword after I botched a parry, making it even more difficult. I retreated, back to back with Alice, keeping an eye out for the werewolf while careful not to let any more undead touch me.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Valin had just loosed an arrow in to the cold, soulless eyes of an undead. He looked over at the blood covered city to makes sure his comrades were safe. A large ebony fur covered wolf ran across the town towards a few others. They had gotten out of the way, but he had already turned and was preparing to attack again. He looked around, wondering just who it was, Titus was the only one he couldn't spot, and memories flashed in Valin's head of a smell entering his nose when Titus had entered. Valin had to do something.

The ranger hopped down from the building, charging towards the werewolf. He was seconds from running at the others again. Valin's eyes flashed red as he reached the wolf and struck his palm into Titus' side. It had forced Titus' attention away from the others. Valin had dealt with wolves who couldn't control their anger, it was something that often required the whole packs attention to train out, Valin could do it, but not now. Theres no way to talk to a raging wolf, Valin would need to get him to turn back.

The bosmer looked into Titus' eyes. Valin's emerald green eyes reflected Valenwood and his home, a place without chaos. Valin was ready to take a charge, or a claw swipe from the werewolf. The bosmer was standing tall, his hood down and his shoulder long hair blowing in the slight wind. There was an essence to the way he stood, it was confident and intimidating, though that mattered little to any wolf who doesn't see Valin as a leader.

"Titus! Calm down! I need to talk to you." Valin said over the clashing of steel and moans of undead.

 

[Majir-Dar]

Majir-Dar had to stop casting his fire spells. Though effective, they were exhausting on the best of days. He began to consider his options. There wasn't much more that he could do, there were too many draugr. He considered leaving, it's not like they would miss him. Of course, they would probably die by the rusted axes and swords the draugr possessed. Why should he care about these fools and their thjizzrini?

He was thinking of his retreat but, like a knife in the dark, he was shot with an arrow. He winced in his pain and let out an involuntary yelp. The arrow pierced his leg, going completely through. He could hear the sharp PANG! as the arrow head hit the roof's tiles and rolled to the ground. The arrow came from his blind side, and released from a draugr's bow. It had climbed the roof, and more were following suit. It was an odd sight, seeing undead bones and flesh shamble up walls.

He then saw something much more horrific. The dead inside the houses were crawling out of their houses. They used the stone chimneys, the windows, and the doors. He saw a woman and her kids. They were dead, and had large chunks of flesh torn from their faces and scalps. He could see parts of their skull and cheek bones. Their hair was matted and the crimson blood made it stick to their faces and necks. One of the young, a Nord girl, had no arms, and her bones were showing from her sleeves. There was a deep gash in her neck, thick crimson rolled down her neck. The young boy had no foot, he was hobbling along, leaning on his raw muscle and bone as he went. The boy's scalp was cut clean off, revealing the boy's brain. The mother's spine was ripped from its resting place. He could tell because her back was twisted in a way that backs couldn't bend on any humanoid of any race. Her legs were moving but her head was on level with her feet.

He rolled over and regurgitated his dinner from earlier, it rolled off and hit an undead that was trying to climb the roof. He was sick and wanted to get away, but the wound in his leg wouldn't allow such a mercy. He would have to kill them. He felt tears roll like rain from his eyes as he weakly raised his trembling hands. He felt the familiar heat that accompanied the arrival of his heat spell. Maybe this is all a dream, a horrible, horrible, nightmaric dream. What gods in heaven or hell would allow such an atrocity? Majir-Dar tried to steel himself. However, unlike other situations he was in, this was much too horrific. His hand twitched as the spell was cast and it collided with the little girl's leg. It was torn from its socket, it burned as it ran through. The girl fell over, face first and attempted to crawl to Majir-Dar. Chunks of her flesh ripped off as she struggled to navigate the roof. Come on, damn it, calm yourself! Majir-Dar attempted to cast the spell yet again. This time succeeding. The spell collided with the mother and burned the flesh from her bones. The flame then carried to the children. Their horrid screams filled the night as they were burned. They fell to the ground below and landed with a sickening splat. The flame still burned, as if to serve as a reminder of what he just did.

Though Majir-Dar was only focused on the family, he was getting surrounded. There were more undead then ever up on the roofs and they were closing in on Majir-Dar. They resembled rabid wolves gaining on an injured deer, surrounding it first, then going in for the kill. Majir-Dar wouldn't allow this, he would kill everyone of the damned undead one-by-one if he had to. He cast a numbing spell and attempted to rise to his feet. He succeeded, feeling no pain, and raced to a nearby chimney. It was the same one the family came out of. He jumped in, his fur rubbed against the brick walls around him, though the numbing spell dulled much of the pain he would've felt.

However, as if the divines themselves were against Majir-Dar, the numbing spell wore off. It happened right before he landed on the ground. His wounded leg erupted in flames of pain, "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! fl*ff IT! DAMN IT STRAIGHT TO HELL!" He curled up into a ball, looking more wretched then he ever had before. After a few minutes past, he managed to look around at his surroundings. He could see old, framed up pictures. Though they were rare, pictures were expensive images that alteration mages could make. The paper used wasn't rare in itself but the mages liked to pretend they were.

Majir-Dar felt tears well up in his eyes. The water was becoming familiar to him, an uncomfortable feeling for anyone. It was one thing to see the family in an undead and vicious state, but to see them in a real life scenario was crippling.

 

[Pufftuff]

Vladier had expended much of his energy, there were only two ways to recoup and he couldn't find his flask. It was as though he was walking as a spirit at this point everything seemed slow and unreal. He sniffed and couldn't smell anything, no rotting flesh, blood, or even the sound of clinking steel. Things were happening that didn't seem real. A werewolf appeared amongst the undead. "Where in the hell am I? Whats happened to me?" Vladier thought to himself. He finally felt sucked back to reality when someone grabbed him and pulled him out of the way of the werewolf.

Still dazed, Vlad was slowly recovering when he saw the Bosmer drop from the roofs, he confronted the werewolf. It seemed as though he was talking to it, or communicating some how. He looked around to do a head check, everyone was there except for the male twin and the cat. Vladier looked around to see the Khajiit struggling with a group of undead on a roof. He appeared wounded and scared, then he did something Vladier did not see coming. A group of undead hit the ground flying off the roof engulfed in fire, then the Khajiit disappeared into the house through the roof. Vladier's senses where coming back and he could hear the cat scream in pain, perhaps death. Either way the Breton wasn't going to leave him in there by himself.

Summoning the last bits of strength that he could muster, Vladier cast a raise dead spell in his weakened state he was one able to raise two corpses. He picked them carefully, one was an archer with the Bosmer's arrow in it's eye, the second was just a large mass might have been more than one person he couldn't tell. Vladier thought to himself, "This will do nicely" with his minions clearing a path luckily most of the undead had shifted to the werewolf. He made it to the door of the house, casting an oakflesh spell on himself he crashed through the door. Looking to see the Khajiit almost paralyzed in what he thought was pain. "Look my furry friend there is a big corpse that is going to pick you up I can't carry you. He's under my control stay calm." Vladiers other minions was letting loose arrows quickly keeping a path back to the group as clear as possible. Running out of the house the corpse carrying the Khajiit went first through the door, the archer stayed running out of arrows it pulled the arrow out of its head and saved Vladier from a sword about to be plunged into his back. Then it just fell limp back to the nether.

Vladier ran up to the group first pointing to the corpse carrying the Khajiit. "That ones mine!" It came and set the Khajiit down, Vladier pulled him behind the others he felt himself losing consciousness. With the last bit of energy he had a sword appear in his hand and he removed the head from his thrall. "We have to do something soon, if anyone see's my flask grab it." With that Vladier fell to weak to stand.

 

[Simus]

Titus saw the look Valin gave him and that gave him pause. This mer was an alpha and that authority shined through his eyes. Titus thought he could smell it earlier and now it was confirmed. HE didn't have to listen to Valin since the only pack he answered to was The Circle but Skjor had showed him several times what happened when you defy your pack leader. Even in his raging beast state, Titus was able to associate that hard stare with a humbling tackle or a nasty swipe to the head if he did anything foolish.

He couldn't speak in best form but he could still communicate. After headbutting a drauger to Oblivion, Titus obediently sat on his knees, using his large clawed hands as support and gave Valin his undivided attention.