Omega - Chapter 9

  • Omega - Chapter 9

    TOC

    Through the icy teeth of a blizzard Maxim and his companions made north through great snow-drifts and around frost crusted boulders and white dusted pines. It was painfully cold. Maxim wore his fur lined carved nordic armor and helm and carried Spellbreaker in one hand and a fluttering torch in the other. Dawnbreaker slept in its scabbard at his waist. Serana had her cloak and hood drawn about her to keep the wind from her face, but otherwise did not feel the cold. Wolfclaw and Aela wore heavy furs, cloaks and hoods, the harbinger carrying the great-axe Wuuthrad in his hands, Aela her bow. In several places black plates of armor were strapped to their furs. Fawkes had salvaged several pieces of Enclave power armor and fixed them to the warrior's fur hides. The mutant himself had similarly supplemented his own armor with the plates and in addition to the huge sledge hammer he had strapped to his back, he carried an Enclave gatling laser that he had taken from one of the vertibirds. He wore a bandoleer around his massive frame with several fusion cores strapped to it and over the top of it all a huge bearskin cloak. 

    By far the most heavily armed was Thorne. His advanced power armor had been supplemented with more armor plates and Fawkes had rigged a vertibird rocket quad-launcher to Maxim's left pauldron, each tube loaded and with the trigger attached to his wrist. Maxim also carried a long gauss sniper rifle along with his laser pistol on his waist holster. Finally, the great warhammer Volendrung was slung across his back. Between the six of them they carried the fighting prowess of a small army.

    Tamriel's last hope.

    With a combination of infrared, night-powers, heightened senses and the Thu'um, the heroes made their way into the frigid darkness, on the alert, ready for battle.

    After several hours of trudging through heavy snowdrifts, the companions perceived a light out in the forest. A great bonfire. On the wind, a terrible voice was heard, wailing and screaming. The warriors approached carefully, torches snuffed out. Around the bonfire were three giants all holding their heads in hands and weeping in awful howls, kneeling at the edges of two mounds in the snow. Several great mammoths lay around the fringes of the camp, blood reddening the snow around them. One of the giants suddenly stopped its weeping and leaped to its feet. It wore great horned helm and carried an enormous iron bound club. Peering into the darkness where Maxim and his friends crouched, the giant gave a bellow, its breath steaming in the night air. Then it rose and charged into the forest towards them, snapping trees in half in its rage. Fawkes jumped to his feet, ready to intercept.

    "Don't hurt him!" hissed Wolfclaw. Fawkes looked at the warrior doubtfully and then turned to meet the oncoming behemoth. The giant was a head taller than the mutant but lacked his muscle bulk. It tore into the area where the group hid raising its club as Fawkes stepped in front of it and caught the shaft on his thick green wrist in mid swing. The club snapped with a loud crack and then the supermutant rammed his fist into the giant's stomach. It doubled up with a whoosh of breath and landed on all fours, gasping for air. The other two giants were charging through the woods now, following their kin.

    Then, amazingly, the giant began to weep again, placing its face in its gnarled hands and curling into a ball on the ground. Its brethren reached the group, clubs at the ready but looking confused at their leader lying in the snow. Wolfclaw slung Wuuthraad onto his back and approached the stricken giant cautiously. Then he placed his gloved hand on the giant's shoulder and spoke in a horrendous, guttural language. The giant stopped crying and looked up at the warrior. It had tears freezing on its face. He responded in the same language and a conversation ensued for several minutes. The other two giants watched as their leader and the warrior conversed and tears began rolling down their faces as well. Wolfclaw's tone became louder and more angry and his bearded face began to turn red. He turned to Maxim and the others, fists clenched.

    "This is Grank," he said indicating the giant kneeling in the snow. "He said that two nights past great evil dragons came from the north east and breathed fire on their mammoths, killing them." The group looked on in silence. Wolfclaw continued. "He said they also killed his children. FOR SPORT!" he raged and ripped a branch from a nearby tree. His companions stared in shock.

    Thorne looked at Wolfclaw and then the giant.

    "The vertibirds flew over this way and gunned them down for target practice." he said darkly. Maxim, eyes blazing, stepped forward, drew dawnbreaker and kneeled before the giant, its point dug into the snow.

    "Wolfclaw," he said to the fuming warrior. "Tell Grank that the dragonborn vows to hunt down these evil dragons and will bring him their heads as trophies. His children will be avenged!" Wolfclaw translated. The giant looked Maxim in the eye and nodded, then rose to his feet with the help of his kin and made their way back through the broken trees towards their camp. Maxim stood and sheathed dawnbreaker.

    "We do not stop until we reach Dawnstar." he said, jaw clenched. Then he ran into the night, followed swiftly by the others. They ran in silence for the rest of the journey.

    *   *   *

    The sky had just began to lighten as they approached Dawnstar when they heard the baying of wolves. A pack up ahead on the trail. Weapons were drawn, but Wolfclaw and Aela waved them off and sprinted off down the trail, out of sight and over a hill towards the howls. As the rest of the group reached the hill top they saw the harbinger and Aela crouched in the snow, face to face with the alpha wolf. They watched the strange communication for several minutes and then the wolf pack went bounding away, north east.

    "Well," said Wolfclaw as the others reached him and Aela. "We've just recruited some scouts. They say that Dawnstar is only a few more miles along the road. They will investigate and warn us of signs of trouble." Fawkes cocked his head at the harbinger.

    "He's a handy fellow to have around." he said.

    The group made their way to the fringes of the town as the first rays of sunlight began to stain the sky. The village was deathly quiet and here and there were mounds in the snow with swords and shields peeking through. They approached the jarl's hall which was surrounded by snow covered bodies. The hall itself was empty, and on inspection so were all the other buildings.

    "Not enough bodies for the whole town," muttered Maxim.

    "They were likely captured and taken to Windhelm." replied Thorne. "Or even the mothership"

    "For what purpose?"

    "I can't say for sure, but I think for experimentation. The Enclave will want to know what makes the people of this planet tick." Maxim did not really understand the reference but gleaned its meaning.

    "An abomination!" he growled. "Like necromancers, dissecting their prey." Thorne nodded in agreement.

    "The Enclave has much to answer for." he said.

    Eventually the troupe settled into the Windpeak inn. The fire pit in the center of the room was still smoldering. The people of Dawnstar had not been gone long. Aela and Wolfclaw threw more wood from the pile on the embers and soon a merry fire was burning, warming the inn. The tables were still full of half eaten meals and half tankards of ale, and Wolfclaw gathered the food and drink up and had started started stuffing his face noisily when with a metallic clang a tankard bounced off the back of his head.

    "Have you no shame, hogface?!" yelled Aela as Wolfclaw cursed, spat the food out and began rubbing his skull.

    "Hircine, woman, there's nobody here! The food will just get wasted." Aela grudgingly conceded and the others sat down at benches and began eating dried meats and fish, slightly stale bread and withered apples and mugs of beer and mead. 

    The day was brighter outside now and it was decided that night was the best time to travel, to maximize the night powers of Serana and the moon-lovers. Fawkes and Thorne took first watch patrolling the village whilst the others retreated to the inn rooms for some rest. As the two friends walked the perimeter of the deserted village, Fawkes struck up a conversation, which was unusual for him.

    "If we somehow miraculously defeat the Enclave, what will you do next?" he asked. Thorne thought for a long minute.

    "I suppose it will be up to me to take Zeta back to Earth." he replied quietly.

    "Would you not rather stay here, in this pristine place? Away from the wasteland?" Thorne stopped and turned to look out over the Sea of Ghosts.

    "I don't belong here." he said. "None of us do. Look at the devastation we have already caused to this planet. Our race is toxic. Destructive."

    "Not all of us Thorne. Some of us wish to live in peace."

    "So do I, Fawkes. But we've brought only war here." Fawkes grunted.

    "What about Lydia?" Thorne turned to Fawkes suddenly.

    "How did you know?" Fawkes clapped a huge green hand over his forehead.

    "Seriously Thorne? I'm a mutant, not an idiot." Thorne had not had much experience with women in his life, having grown up in a fallout vault and then suddenly thrust into the wasteland without warning as a young man. But he did feel strongly about Lydia. Was it love? The battle-scarred soldier didn't know. 

    After a few more hours the sun began to lower towards the horizon and Thorne and Fawkes made their way back to the inn. Serana and Maxim were sitting side by side on a bench, the beautiful vampire stroking the back of the warrior's head. Serana's cheeks were flushed and her lips red, but Maxim looked rather pale and tired. He was sipping wine from a goblet and had a half-eaten rare venison steak on a plate on the table. There was a bandage on the side of Maxim's neck with two pin-points of blood showing through.

    Thorne removed his helmet and stared as comprehension began to dawn on him.

    "Just a love bite, dear." said Serana, smiling sweetly. Thorne quickly looked away and walked over to the spit-roasting side of venison hanging over the fire pit. He took a nearby knife and carved off a large piece as Aela and Wolfclaw stepped out of their room. He motioned to the venison.

    "Would you like some?" he asked the pair.

    "No thank you brother, said Aela. "We hunt." The pair waved off and exited the inn. Fawkes took either side of the spit in his huge hands and lifted it to his mouth, ripping great chunks of meat off with his teeth. After a few minutes there was nothing but bare bones left. He belched thunderously and Maxim and Serana laughed.

    "Lovely," said Thorne. He climbed out of his armor and made his way to bed.

    Thorne was roused suddenly a few hours later by the sound of rumbling thunder. Or so he thought until the walls and floor of the inn began to shake, raining dust down from the rafters. From outside came the distant howling of wolves. He leaped from his bed and into the main room. Maxim had sword in hand, Serana's hands were glowing and Fawkes had his gatling laser at the ready.

    "An earthquake?" asked Thorne. Serana shook her head.

    "No, not this far north." Maxim suddenly swayed and sat down quickly, dropping his sword and covering his eyes. "What is it, my love?" asked Serana with concern.

    "I felt a great disturbance in the aether, as if dozens of voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened..."

    The door to the inn burst open and with a blast of icy air the two companions rushed in.

    "The animals are going crazy out there, all bolting west along the coast!" yelled Wolfclaw. Maxim shook his head to clear it and then snatched up his weapons.

    "Grab your gear, we don't rest until we reach Winterhold!" Thorne climbed into his power armor and gathered his weapons and with the rest of the party dashed out of the inn and into the night.

    It was dark and snowing now as the group sprinted down to the shore and ran east along the coast. They were obliged to dodge all manor of animals both predators and prey as they fled along the shoreline from whatever terror lurked in the east.

    Not far from the town was a series of low cliffs and caves. Maxim knew them well. After the assassination of the emperor the dragonborn had tracked the dark brotherhood to this location where he had found the whispering door, the entrance to the brotherhood's new sanctuary. No brute force, nor shouts nor magic would open that door, and the words necessary to do it were unknown to Maxim. But now, as they ran past the cave where the door lay hid, Maxim could see the doors were wide open. He felt a sudden compulsion to investigate, but their more pressing quest urged him on. Not far from that shadowy place as the companions ran along the frozen shoreline, Maxim felt a presence behind him, dark eyes watching. He looked at Serana as he ran.

    "I know," she said over the howling of the wind that had suddenly whipped up from the east. "I feel it too." They looked back fleetingly but could see nothing in the darkness and had no choice but to continue.

    After a time the snow and wind began to ease and Masser and Secunda showed themselves from behind the clouds, illuminating the shoreline and great ice cliffs that ran along the seaside. More animals passed by, horkers, sabrecats and bears, all in a blind panicked run from the east. Thorne's infrared and motion trackers were turned up to their maximum levels. Miles ahead in the distance, his sensors began to pick up a heat signature. It was huge and grew by the second. They came around a large bend in the distance and as the sky became visible the group became aware of a gigantic pillar of white cloud forming over a clifftop in the east. A mushroom cloud. Thorne's geiger counter began to crackle.

    "Thorne!" barked Fawkes.

    "I know, everyone stop. Now!" Thorne yelled. In unison the group skidded to a halt.

    "What is it?" said Maxim, eyes wide. He knew something horrible was happening.

    "The Enclave has used a terrible weapon. My armor sensors have picked up its energy signature. A great explosion, enough to level an entire city has occurred up ahead. Most likely, the Enclave has used this weapon on the college. But it leaves a field of energy around the blast that is deadly to all living things. You cannot go further or you will all die!"

    "But we must see if there are any survivors!" exclaimed Maxim. "There are caves that the mages may have hidden in, deep under the college."

    "Then some may still live," said Thorne. "But the radiation will kill all of you before you get near."

    "No," said Serana. "Not all of us. I am a vampire, so technically I am unliving and Maxim can exist between Mundus and Aetherius in spirit form. Only Wolfclaw and Aela will be affected." Maxim turned to the companions.

    "Make for Saarthal and wait for us there while we see what has happened." Wolfclaw nodded and then the both of them transformed into their lycanthropic forms and sprinted away west again, along the coast. "What about you two?" asked Maxim, pointing to Fawkes and the soldier.

    "My armor can protect me from the radiation and Fawkes is immune to it."

    "Lets go then, as fast as we can!" yelled Maxim as he shouted and shifted himself into aetherial form. Serana transformed into her vampire lord form and then the four of them tore along the coast towards Winterhold. 

    They ran for nearly an hour, Thorne's geiger counter crackling more loudly now. Maxim was obliged to shout himself into the spirit world several times and the strain was showing. After some time Thorne's motion tracker began to click. Nothing on the infrared, thought Thorne. Nothing could live in this radiation. Then, ahead in the distance shrouded by mist, came gaunt figures, loping along the stony beach towards them. They made a low, gravely moaning sound.

    "Ghouls!" shouted Fawkes. Thorne lifted his rifle to his shoulder, paired the range finder with his helmet and zoomed in on one of the figures. Not ghouls, he thought. It carried an ancient looking sword and shield in its hands and its skin was leathery, a tight rictus for a face. And ice-chip blue eyes.

    "Draugr!" cried Maxim. "The blast must have roused them from their crypts. I cannot fight if I am to remain in spirit form."

    "My blood magic doesn't count for much against the undead," yelled the nightmarish vampire form of Serana. "But I can aid you." she held up a talon and a huge gargoyle erupted into existence before them. With a hideous roar it charged down the beach towards the undead warriors and Thorne dropped to one knee and began firing the gauss rifle. The power of each electromagnetic round blasted the draugr apart and some of the shots destroyed the zombies behind. The gargoyle reached the zombies and began to tear them limb from limb, but it was quickly swarmed by the undead and ripped to pieces. Then the horde began to close on the companions. Thorne continued to pick individual draugr off one by one, but there were too many. Serana drifted out over the water where the zombies could not reach her and Maxim hovered nearby, helpless to do anything.

    "Fawkes," yelled Thorne over the moaning clamor. "They're in range!" Fawkes screamed a battle cry and depressed the trigger on his weapon. The multi-barreled gatling laser began to spin and then a barrage of high powered laser bolts burst from the gun, mowing the first rows of draugr into ashes. Serana began to drag draugr through the air with her night power and fling them out into the ocean. Thorne now exchanged rifle for laser pistol and began firing rapidly into the swarm. Still they came. Suddenly the gatling laser fell silent and Fawkes pitched the heavy weapon at the zombie horde, knocking several over as he dragged his sledge from his back. Likewise Thorne drew Volendrung. Then the draugr were on them, hacking, scratching, beating, biting, gnawing. The two hammers smashed the undead into the air in broken piles of skin and bone. But still they came. Clambering on top of the two soldiers the undead began to drag them to the ground.

    "No!!" shouted Serana frantically.

    "YOL TOOR SHUL!!" Maxim materialized back into reality as a great blast of flame burst from his mouth. It washed over the draugr, incinerating many and setting fire to the rest. Then he ripped the burning Dawnbreaker from its scabbard and thrust the blade through the chest of the nearest draugr. Fire blazed over its entire body and then a great concentric ring of flame erupted outwards from the blade, sending the remaining draugr running for nearby caves and a ruin further up the coast. Then Maxim dropped onto all fours and began to vomit. Thorne dragged himself to his feet and leaped to the warrior's side. A sharp syringe needle suddenly protruded from his gauntlet finger tip and he jabbed it into Maxim's neck. Maxim gasped and the vomiting stopped.

    "Quickly Maxim," screamed Thorne. "Turn aetherial again or you're dead! The shot won't last long!" Maxim gathered in his breath.

    "FEIM!" he shouted and the slumped to the shore. Thorne, Fawkes and Serana watched anxiously as he lay for several minutes on the beach, the bodies of the burning draugr providing light. Then slowly and painfully he rose to his feet.

    "Let's go," he rasped and then doggedly began to lurch up the beach. The other's exchanged worried looks and followed on behind.

    After several more minutes the college clifftops came into view. Unbelievably, the college was still standing, looking relatively untouched. The four finally reached a path that ran steeply up the mountainside to the still intact bridge across to the college and they could see smoke rising above the top of the cliff. Fawkes was obliged to knock rubble and boulders clear from the path as they scrambled up to the top, sending small avalanches of ice and rock down the mountainside and into the ocean that lay below them.

    They were greeted at the top by a scene of absolute devastation.

    Beyond the stairs to the bridge to the college was nothing but a glowing-hot crater where the town of Winterhold used to be. Black smoke poured from the super-heated earth and rose to merge with the expanding mushroom cloud forming in the sky over the coast. Thorne's geiger counter was crackling like a bonfire the radiation was so high.

    "Bastards," was all he could manage to say, over and over again.

    "Let's move." said Maxim grimly in his distant aetherial voice. They made their way across the bridge and through the gate. To their utter astonishment the college was completely intact. But horror greeted them in the courtyard. Staggering about in crumpled college robes and groaning in pain and terror, the mages of Winterhold had mutated into deformed and hideous, hairless, noseless, lipless parodies of their former selves.

    "Ghouls," whispered Thorne in a shocked tone. Near the magica well and the statue of Shalidor stood one of the disfigured mages, leaning heavily on a long ornate staff with a glowing blue jewel mounted on its top.  It stared dully with sunken  eyes at the four companions as they approached.

    "Dovahkin?" it croaked at the ghostlike Maxim.

    "Tolfdir?" said Maxim, horrified. 

    "It is I, dragonborn. Or what is left of me." replied the mage.

    "What happened here?"

    The decaying Tolfdir related the assault on the college. A few days ago, from the south, the enemy flyers came, raining fire from the sky on the tiny village of Winterhold and the town's people fled in terror to the college, begging for protection. Tolfdir and the other mages had cast a massive ward over the college and its grounds, supplemented by the staff of Magnus. The terrified townsfolk retreated down to the midden, under the college whilst the battle raged above. For hours the flyers bombarded the ward to no effect. Finally, the great death-ray blasted down onto the shield and was repelled several times. Exhausted, the mages kept up the ward for over a day. Then two days. Then three. Without the power of the staff of Magnus the mages would have died from the extreme effort.

    And then the spear of fire descended from the heavens.

    A blinding flash and a searing wave of heat reflected from the ward which had no effect on the college but utterly destroyed the town. But shortly after, horrendous pain and sickness assailed the mages. Their hair and nails began to fall out, their skin sloughed off, their limbs twisted and their faces began to flake away. They lost their connection to aetherius and many of them went mad. All of this had occurred in the space of a day.

    Thorne wanted to smash something. These people did not deserve this. No one did. But if any race had earned extinction, it was his own. The ruin that had been Tolfdir sank to the ground and dropped the staff.

    "Dovahkin," he whispered, motioning for the dragonborn to come closer. "Take the staff to the Archmage. I know he still lives." Maxim, in his aetherial form stiffened.

    "I cannot, Tolfdir." he said in a strained voice. "I will not exchange one evil for another."

    "He is not evil, dragonborn. And he is of this world. He may be our last hope. Please." The dying mage was fading fast.

    "Alright Tolfdir. I will wake him, I promise." Tolfdir gave a final gasp, shuddered and died. Maxim, a grim look on his ghostly face motioned Thorne over to his side.

    "Thorne, take the staff." the soldier picked it up and the orb-like jewel at its top glowed. Serana had returned to her normal self.

    "The town's people may still be alive in the midden." she said.

    "We can't help them," replied Thorne. "The minute they step outside the radiation will kill them." he looked down at Tolfdir's body. "Or worse."

    "Serana is right," said Maxim. "We can't leave them. Serana, Fawkes, find as much food as you can and take it down to the survivors, if they are any." Fawkes rumbled.

    "It will be irradiated. It will kill them, but more slowly."

    "No," said Thorne. "I have medicine that will hold off the effects of the poison. We may be able to find a way to evacuate them before they run out of food. But first, we have to stop the Enclave or this will happen again." Maxim nodded.

    "Agreed. Serana, supply the survivors and then meet Aela and Wolfclaw in Saarthal."

    "Where are you going?" asked Serana.

    "Thorne and I are going to Septimus Sigmus' outpost. To free the Archmage."

    *   *   *

Comments

20 Comments
  • Andrew Shepherd
    Andrew Shepherd   ·  November 30, 2015
    Ahahaha. You got me!

    It's a worry how much similar stuff we both like! The vault isn't safe!!
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  November 30, 2015
    Sung from Dragonsreach grand porch as he mounts Odahviing
    Leavin' on a dragon, don't know when I'll be back again... 
  • Andrew Shepherd
    Andrew Shepherd   ·  November 30, 2015
    You Fill Up My Soul Gems?
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  November 30, 2015
    Sad that you and I know a ton of Denver songs. 
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  November 30, 2015
    Nope
  • Andrew Shepherd
    Andrew Shepherd   ·  November 30, 2015
    Oh, ok. Thank Auriel I'm an Alinor Boy?
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  November 30, 2015
    LOL, not quite. Country road isn't the poem. 
  • Andrew Shepherd
    Andrew Shepherd   ·  November 30, 2015
    May the FUS be with you!

    Hmm, John Denver. "Skyrim road, take me home, to the place, where Altmer paladin Auriel Dragonborn priests belong"

    I also love the line "one does not just simply walk into bleak falls barrow.." Lol
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  November 30, 2015
    Aww, you did that just for me?
    I recently used "Keep it secret, keep it safe" and thought of you while I did so.  In addition, soon I shall Skyrimize a poem by John Denver and attribute it to Albee. 
  • Exuro
    Exuro   ·  November 30, 2015
    Dragon-wan Kyne-obi. There's only so much you can put in one comment.