Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 269: Chapter XC: Fall of Volkihar (Part 2/Assault)



One full year since I started this whole thing, damn does time fly!

[Quest Issued]

[Slay Harkon Volkihar]

[Reward: The Collected Works on Spirituality by Archmage Numeril of Aldmeris]

The face splitting, and rather bloodthirsty, grin refused to leave my face as I let my thoughts go wild at the potential uses of such knowledge. True, it did seem a bit random considering my focus on more temporal topics but taking into account the fact that my very distant ancestors were a form of spirit definitely gave me some ideas.

So distracted was I by the potential of the promised reward that I completely failed to notice Phineas approaching me and smacking my shoulder, almost losing his head in the process as I reflexively summoned Blasphemy only to stop an inch from his illusory neck.

"Charming" He deadpans and starts dragging me toward the edge of the ship "I feel something approaching from below, it is filled to the brim with necromantic Magicka."

Smothering my irritation I take a good look and blink "That is actually pretty damn ingenious."

"What is it?" Phineas asks.

"A bunch of overcharged dead slaughterfish." I inform him dryly "They will be upon us in less than a minute."

He groans "I might be able to deal with that but the fog is not helping."

"You can leave that for me." I smile and leave him to his preparations, his grumbles about wiseass mystics following me the whole way to the prow of the ship.

The fog had grown thicker in the past few minutes, it was not magical but would still be incredibly debilitating for those who could not see with their mind, which meant everyone but me and possibly Shalazar.

Thankfully I had come prepared, I focused my mind on my connection with my most powerful vassal and sent a simple command 'Clear the skies for me.'

'With pleasure' Rumbled Krein from atop a distant mountain, only for that rumble to be replaced by a crack of echoing noise a moment later "LOK VAH KOOR!"

The billowing fog stilled for but a moment, and then as if the world itself disdained its presence it was launched upwards and into the distance, forming a tiny cloud as it began its journey somewhere in the vague direction of Akavir.

The grim and battle ready warriors atop the deck stood surprised as their sight suddenly returned and a cheer broke out across all three ships, Tullius seemed especially enthused by the development and was no doubt already planning on enlisting my aid for a repeat performance on the war front.

The sudden onset of good cheer did not last long, for mere seconds later the seas below us darkened and numerous thuds could be heard as the veritable mountain of reanimated fish attempted to chew through the hardened boards of the ships' hulls.

Once that attempt failed, I felt a burst of power coming from one of the windows in the castle and the fish surged upwards, forming a massive wave that enveloped the flagship from both sides, almost drowning out the sun in a sea of sharp-toothed corpses.

Only for it to still completely as Phineas rose his hand, his deep understanding of necromancy allowing him to engage the caster in a mental battle for control.

Unfortunately for the vampire, the moment of stillness proved quite fatal for his plan as I shared a look with Savos and both of us immediately flew from the deck atop our familiars, disintegration rays and sunfire bolts already mid cast.

I like to imagine that my sight did not allow me to see the elder vampire briefly wet himself before him, his room, and half the tower it was in were blown to tiny chunks by our combined offensive.

The Staff of Magnus was truly an unfair tool when it came to blasting through wards.

We were not given long to celebrate however, as the numerous windows and walls that were facing our direction lit up like a christmas tree, the hundreds of defenders stationed atop them all targeting us with arrows and spells.

Dodging or blocking the attacks was insultingly easy but they did manage to stop us from outright annihilating their defenses as Savos and I started to circle above the castle and deliver thrice the damage they attempted to send our way.

Needless to say when Shalazar finally decided to fly up things stopped looking bad for the vampires and turned outright terrifying.

(General POV)

Many of the less grizzled legionaries shuddered as what can only be called a storm of magic kept blasting over their heads, each spell feeling like it could annihilate an unprotected unit of soldiers in the blink of an eye.

General Tullius was practically salivating at the idea of recruiting even one of them to the legion, but his foolish fantasies were doomed to remain only that and his attention was commandeered by the King of Skyrim "Makes you thank the gods they are on our sides, eh?"

The General suppressed a wince as another artillery turret was blown to smithereens by a flash of gold "Quite." He nodded stiffly and looked to the young King "Are you prepared?"

"I was born ready." Torygg smiled cockily "Oh the songs the bards will write of this day!"

"Uhuh." Tullius deadpanned and crisply called out "Rikke."

"Your orders General?" The dutiful Legate saluted.

"Ensure the King remains away from the front." He commanded and left the smiling Legate and pouting monarch behind.

He walked up to the prow of the ship just in time to hear the engineer Quaestor order the weapon team to fire, the massive ballista bolt ramming into one of the smaller towers of the castle and detonating in an explosion of fire, no doubt killing many of the defenders within but failing to destroy the tower itself.

Slowly, almost gently, the ships approached the shallow waters surrounding the castle, the deck covered in an eerie silence completely contrasting the magical cacophony coming from

above.

Tullius turned to his legionaries, the infiltration team having left minutes ago, and unsheathed his weapon "Soldiers, begin the attack! For the Empire!"

A loud salute rose in response and with the efficiency only ever held by the elite, the legionaries boarded the numerous boats hanging from the sides of the ship, many of whom were filled with dead slaughterfish after Phineas finished deanimating the damned things.

The defenders did not simply wait and let the legion land however, as the moment the first boat approached the coast the many statues hanging from the castle and its bridge animated themselves and threw their carved bodies at the surprised soldiers.

As if that was not enough, numerous holes opened up in the ground of the island, the vampiric creations within billowing outside in a horde of death hounds and massive bats.

It looked as if the wave was going to crash into the vastly outnumbered legionaries before the rest could disembark, no doubt slaughtering them to the last man without even allowing

them to fight back.

The lich and archmage had other ideas however, as Phineas and Tolfdir appeared in front of the soldiers in a flash of noise and as fast as a blink the entire battlefield was covered in earthen spikes, those who failed to get themselves impaled soon found their tiny wills being subverted as a true master of necromancy made his presence known.

The intervention of the magi allowed the legion to land and begin their march toward the gates, only suffering slight damage from the defenders as anyone who dared target them soon found themselves turned into fine ash, courtesy of the trio of flying madmen. Whoever was commanding the defense had no desire to allow them to approach lightly as the gargoyles which were felled during the fight kept reanimating and crashing into the attackers' formation, both doing damage to morale and outright killing a few dozen men and women through sheer unpredictability.

As they approached the the massive bridge leading within, the leading Legate ordered his men to stop as the gates opened up, letting loose a much greater enemy than before. A pair of massive Nords led the vampiric charge as hundreds of thralls were thrown down the bridge in an attempt to distract the attackers long enough for the vampires to vault over them and begin their gleeful slaughter of the mortals.

Many such attacks succeeded, Tolfdir being forced to focus on only one enemy as the lead vampire engaged him in a contest of strength... and somehow managed to hold on even as the elder archmage empowered himself with dragonskin.

Phineas was having other issues, as while he could take control of vampires with enough effort they were still creatures with a will and could resist such attempts unless dominated by way of ritual, and his skills at destruction were subpar by battlemage standards.

It was thus that the lich found himself forced into using the dead legionaries to strike the

vampires in the chaos of battle, reaping a great number of undead even as he was repeatedly targeted by assassins attempting to kill him by sneaking up to him and stabbing him in the

heart.

Their expressions of disbelief when their knives passed straight through his glamor were truly cackle-worthy, and cackle he did, just before he sucked out their lifeforce and turned them to ash moments later.

More and more thralls kept pouring out of the gates, even as the ship-mounted artillery was now focused fully on slaughtering them in droves. And so, as many of them feared, the battle turned into a grind.

Serana and Valerica tensed as they approached the supply dock, their many memories of their home forcing them into a state of melancholy even at this moment.

Ever uncaring for the weakness of others, Isran spoke "Prepare yourselves, who knows which

horrors wait within."

"Eh" Davos waved him off "Can't be worse than a Namiran pit."

Alor and Nighsthade immediately facepalmed.

The gathered Dawnguards and warriors of Dagoth relaxed slightly at the display, but a quick

glare from Isran reminded them all that tension is something they would need in but a

moment.

Slowly their boats rose from the water and firmly landed upon the sands of the beach, the entire force disembarking as quickly as they could, their weapons at the ready for the expected ambush.

Only for said ambush to never come as they ascended the small defensive wall protecting the

side entrance.

Their apprehension grew as they kept going deeper and deeper into the castle, the numerous thrall corpses and piles of vampiric ash making even Isran uneasy.

"Could it be that the forces of darkness fought amongst themselves?" One of the Paladins of

Auri-El asked in a whispered archaic form of Tamrielic.

Gelebor placed a hand on his shoulder to quieten him "Patience brother."

The Paladin nodded solemnly and followed after the rest.

Soon, the group reached the pile of remains sitting below the thrall pens, a hanged and

impaled vampire quietly whimpering as his precious blood flowed freely onto the floor below, a slightly glowing parchment, pristine even in the filth surrounding it, was held within his hands which he seemed to grasp as tightly as his shaking hands would allow. Realizing what may be going on, Davos quickly walked up to the vampire and grabbed the parchment, unslinging his crossbow and shooting the victim without even looking at him and freeing him from this mortal coil by way of rapid incineration.

The parchment, as ostentatious as it was, held but a simple sentence "The oath is thus fulfilled, Kinlord Narsis." Davos read aloud, earning himself some dubious looks from the

Dawnguard.

"What is this?" Isran asked.

"Will explain after, give me a moment." Davos raised a hand to silence him and sent a quick prayer to Mephala, hoping to get some confirmation.

A breath blew onto his ear followed by an approving hum and then an amused giggle as he shivered with discomfort. Completely refusing to explain what just happened, and firmly ignoring Nighsthade's glare, Davos looked up and muttered "Crawling through blood and

shit it is."

A group of the House Dagoth Mer at arms groaned as they brought out grappling hooks. Minutes later, the last of the infiltrators was dragged up by a frowning Valerica who was growing more impatient with each passing moment. A quiet headcount was made and

without any preamble, Isran smashed through the rotten door hiding them and charged out into the thrall pen.

The vampire guard barely had the time to turn around as his head was turned to mush by the

furious Dawnguard, said fury spreading among the troops as they beheld with absolute horror the insult to the very gods they were welcomed with.

Hundreds of dead thralls hung upside down as their blood was drawn into buckets and

prepared for rapid consumption.

Isran did not need to motivate anyone into a near-berserk rage as a group of vampires

descended into the pens with empty buckets in their hands and cruel glee in their eyes. The over a hundred eyes filled with frothing rage they were welcomed by struck even the

undead with a deep primal fear as a wave of crossbow bolts and solar magic removed them from Nirn and sent them screaming to their disgusting master.

Soon the entire lower section of the castle was filled with the sounds of battle and a truly

cosmopolitan mix of battle cries, the attackers almost competing with each other in how brutally efficient they could be in slaughtering their hated foe.

A pair of crimson eyes followed the unfolding battle as their owner observed the two vampires with interest. He would have to make a decision, and soon.

An hour after the assault began, things had turned deathly quiet. Castle Volkihar looked like a

burned rock as smoke rose from every possible spot on its surface and any vampire who had anything resembling a brain had long since descended into the relative safety of its halls. A loud crack resounded as the enlarged Tolfdir finally managed to get in a good smack against

the vampire lord fighting him, sending him sprawling back and opening him up to the other

mages.

Orthjolf barely had the time to lean upwards before he was completely covered in three different forms of fire and a scorpion bolt just for good measure.

(Reyvin's POV)n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Tough motherfucker that one." I grouse as I walk up the bridge and purposefully step on the

ashes of one of Volkihar's dogs, the other archmages following me close behind. "Say what you will about the Volkihar but they are an ancient clan." Savos quips merrily,

though I could see him hiding the sadness at the deaths of well over two hundred legionaries we failed to stop.

"Not for much longer though." I quip back and turn to Tolfdir "Master, would you do the

honors?"

Tolfdir smiles, still in his enlarged state and I feel magic flowing into his body as he pulls his hand back and slams it into the armored gate of the castle. To our great surprise the damned

thing holds, and even after repeating the attempt thrice with more and more magic Tolfdir fails to destroy the gate.

"Well." The now shrinking Nord scoffs "That is annoying."

Savos looks just about ready to try himself but Shalazar stops him and looks at me "I am afraid that nothing short of some choice words will allow us within, my student." "Was hoping to save some energy for later." I sigh and take a deep breath, my helmet

shimmers with power as the deeper understanding of force Krein forced 'heh' me to internalize flows into my words "FUS RO DAH!"

The shout strikes the gate and shatters it open, my voice, far more precise and directed than

ever before, carrying well into the bloody halls within.

I could almost smell their fear.

LOK VAH KOOR = Sky Spring Summer

As a reward for the vaunted anniversary of this senile scribble of mine you need only pay twice

the usual amount of stone.

Am I not a generous god?

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advance visit my patreon page patreon.com/Rastislav156

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