Dragon of the East - Arc 1, Chapter 5

  • Chases-The-Wind

     ~ ~ ~

    “Zu’u Alduin. Zok sahrot do naan ko Lein!”

    The black dragon snarled at me. Its voice was deep and strident. I dashed toward the keep and called for Ralof to clear the door.

    “Nus two ni qiilaan fen kos bonaar!!”         

    As I ran, I pivoted back to outstretch my arm, casting another ward. The dragon prepared to unleash its fire. I wore a look of fury, brow drawn low and fangs bared, as though to try and match the dragon’s terror with my own. I knew my spell was weak and would falter against the monster’s breath. Yet I was impelled to oppose the great beast, to deny it this one kill.

    “YOL… TOOR SHUL!!!”

    The dragon’s metallic roar uttered forth, fire cascading from its maw with frightening speed. I burst through the keep’s entrance as flames collided with my ward. It shattered instantly, sending a shock of pain down the length of my arm. Before the fire could reach me, Ralof slammed shut the keep’s entrance. I staggered and fell to the floor on my hands and knees. Ralof held his weight against the door as the dragon’s breath subsided.

    Silence deadened the room. Ralof and I looked at each other, our faces beaming. I stifled a laugh. We were still alive.

    But there was no time to revel in our triumph. A quake and tumbling of rubble from the rafters reminded us that the dragon was still outside. Something caught Ralof’s eye as I came to my feet. He rushed to the back of the cylindrical room and knelt down by a Stormcloak’s body, lying motionless in front of a table. Blood pooled from the dead man’s side. The Imperials must have caught him.

    “We’ll meet again in Sovngarde, brother,” Ralof lamented, lingering before he spoke again. “Looks like we’re the only ones who made it this far.”

    He stood, facing me as I walked near. A chandelier high overhead cast a shadow thrice its size upon the floor. Mounted heads of deer, elk, and bears eyed us with fake glossy pupils. I peered to my right at a black iron gate leading to a downward bending stairwell. The gate was swung open, showing signs of forced entry.

    “Don’t be so sure of that,” I said. “We were not the first to come through here. There may still be others further ahead.”

    I pulled back my fur hood, ruffling the dark brown feathers that grew on my head in the space between my horns.

    “You think Ulfric and the others made it?” Ralof asked.

    “Impossible to say, but they’re on their own now,” I said, looking sternly at Ralof. “We cannot afford to wait for them.”

    The Nord let out a resigning sigh.

    “You don’t need to tell me that. It’ll take more than a dragon to kill Ulfric Stormcloak,” he said. “Let’s get out of here!”

    We went through the gate and made our way underground. The hallway that greeted us bellow was dimly lit by metal framed torches. Cold mortar and stone confined us. I despise tight spaces. The ceiling shook and a small chunk of rock fell, slipping off of my collar before clattering on the floor. The dragon was still trying to tear down the keep.

    At the time, though, my thoughts were more occupied with the Imperials. I hoped against all odds that we would meet no trouble from them. Pulling out my crossbow, I lifted a small flap atop a leather pouch on my belt and singled out a steel bolt. I loaded it into the weapon. One way or another, I would be ready.

    Again the room shook, but this time violently. I could hear sounds of rupturing wood above. The roof was about to collapse.

    “Look out!!” Ralof cried.         

    We barely jumped clear of the debris. Stone, soil and woodwork cascaded, sealing the path behind us. The air became thick with dust. My nictitating membranes blocked the dirt from my eyes as I coughed. Ralof hollered in pain.

    I turned back to see the Nord’s leg caught under a large column of rock. He was spitting enough curses to bring a sailor to blush. I ran to help lift up the rubble. Its bulk was immense – I strained to prop it mere inches. That was enough, though, for Ralof to wring his leg free. My muscles ached as I let the heap of stone drop.

    “Son of a…!” Ralof swore as he spat on the ground, grimacing. “Damn dragon won’t give up!”

    I took a closer look at the wound. Something must have prevented the full weight of the rock from crushing Ralof’s leg. It was not as badly broken as I feared. There were two, maybe three fractures. His pant leg and skin were badly torn, streaked with grime and blood.

    “Stay still,” I said, holding my hands over the abrasion. “I can stop the bleeding and ease your pain.”

    Bright bands of yellow light wrapped around his leg. I could feel threads of flesh weave back together as my spell sped up his body’s healing. The recuperation completed after a few minutes. Ralof looked noticeably more placid.

    “That… That was incredible!” he exclaimed. “I feel much better!”

    His contorted expression returned as he tried to stand. I motioned for him to stay down.

    “I did not completely fix your leg. The bone will have to mend on its own,” I said. “I’ve prevented any festering, at least. It will give us the time we need to reach safety.”

    I was about to prop Ralof up when a voice rang out from further down the dark corridor.

    “Who’s there? Show yourselves!”

    The figures of two men were moving toward us. As they neared torch light, the shapes of their legion uniforms came into view. I stood and took aim with my crossbow.

    “Stop where you are!” I shouted. “Move and I put a bolt between your eyes!”

    The men froze in place. One held up his hands yieldingly. He was a clean shaven Nord with ear-length brown hair.

    “Easy now,” he said. “We don’t want to hurt you…”      

    “I have no concern for myself,” I hissed.

    “Hadvar, he’s the Argonian I saw,” the other soldier muttered. “The one helping the Stormcloaks! Look!”

    He pointed to Ralof lying on the ground.

    “I take no sides in this affair. My actions are my own,” I said, lowering my weapon slightly. “I saved this man because his life was in danger.”

    “That doesn’t get you a reprieve,” the soldier snapped. “You’re aiding an enemy of the empire!”

    “Wait a second,” Hadvar spoke as he waved his companion aside, straining to see the incapacitated Stormcloak. “It can’t be… Ralof? Is that you?”

    “Nice to see you too, dog,” Ralof jeered.

    “You damn traitor, you’re still alive!”

    “We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time.”

    The other Imperial drew his sword. “We’ll see about that.”

    “Enough! All of you!!” I shouted. “Have you forgotten that a dragon is attacking the village!? This keep will become our tomb if we waste time fighting each other!”

    The ceiling shook again. Hadvar seemed concerned, but his companion refused to back down.

    “Stay out of this, lizard,” he said. “The Stormcloak is ours. Leave and we’ll act like this never happened.”

    “This man is no threat to you in his condition,” I growled. “I’ll not let you to kill him so pitilessly! Set aside your hatred this once. Has there not been enough death this day?”

    Hadvard seemed to quell at my words.

    “Forget about them,” he said. “We need to get back to the others. They won’t wait for us.”

    “What happens if the captain finds out we let a rebel escape?” his cohort contested. “It’ll be our heads on the chopping block, not theirs!”

    “That will make precious little difference if you’re already dead,” I hissed, raising my crossbow to aim. Tension filled the room, slowly swelling like a bad wound. I did not want to act on my threats, but as the moment became dire it seemed I would have to.

    Inconsequential, either way. Something worse happened.

    There was a loud snap. A metal hook holding back the drawstring on my crossbow mangled free, pitching off into the air. The repairs I made in the mountains had not been thorough enough. The loaded bolt misfired, careening past the legionnaires by a wide margin.

    “Xhuth!!” I swore, reeling in surprise.                                                                     

    The Imperial soldier, sword drawn, seized the moment and rushed forward. Hadvar unavailingly shouted for him to stop. Before I knew it, the man’s steel blade was coming toward me in a diagonal slash, aimed squarely at my clavicle.

    A poor choice of move.

    I pulled up my crossbow and blocked the blow. The soldier’s sword buried into its wooden stock. Swerving my weapon to the side, I drew away the man’s blade and swung my arm at his face. Sharp claws tore through soft flesh. He cried out, staggering backwards. I drew my knife and shifted into a fighting stance.

    “If you value your life, yield and I will still show mercy,” I hissed.

    My opponent recovered himself, half-blinded by the blood drizzling over his eyes. He followed with a series of slashing blows. Not one could connect; I sifted through his strikes like a current of water. The man was fuming. He went for a frighteningly fast stab. I sidestepped, spinning counter-clockwise around the soldier’s body, landing a sharp elbow thrust upon the back of his head. He stumbled forward, surprisingly still conscious.

    “Give up!” I yelled.

    The Imperial spun around to cleave my midsection, arced in a semicircle swing. I ducked. This would only end one way. I rose and plunged my knife into the soldier’s heart. His eyes bulged as I twisted the small blade’s hilt and drew it free. The man dropped his sword, clutching the puncture wound in his chest. With a kick to his legs, I swept the Imperial off of his feet and dropped him to the ground.

    There was a final sickening stomp as my boot broke his neck. Turning to Hadvar, I met his stare with a doleful glower. Blood dripped from the tip of my blade.

    “We’re leaving. Please, for you sake,” I implored, “do not try and stop us.”

    The Nord legionnaire took a single step backward. He was outmatched and he knew it. There would not be another fight. I was grateful for this; no pleasure had been taken in slaying his comrade.

    “Fine,” Hadvar said with ire. “I hope that dragon takes you to all to Sovngarde.”

    He turned to retreat back down the corridor. I let out a sad sigh. It seemed that I made an unwanted enemy. Picking up my broken crossbow, I walked over to Ralof.

    “We’ll need to move more slowly now,” I said, “and give the Imperials time to escape ahead of us.”

    Once more a quake rumbled through the rocks.

    “Not too slowly I hope,” Ralof replied, pausing between sentences. “Those were some impressive moves. You know how to handle yourself in a fight.”

    “I would have rather not fought at all,” I spoke quietly, “but what’s done is done. We can only move forward.”

    “No shame in defending yourself, friend. It was a good kill.”

    Slinging Ralof’s arm over my shoulder, I held both our weights up as we hobbled through the dark recesses of the keep.

    “I knew that man,” Ralof said, staring off at nothing. “Hadvar. We grew up together in Riverwood.”

    “The two of you were friends?” I asked.

    “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not talk about it.”

    “Fair enough.”

    Ralof chuckled to himself, looking around the room.

    “Funny… When I was a boy, Imperial walls and soldiers used to make me feel so safe.”

    The two of us kept onward, choosing silence for the rest of the way. My thoughts would not settle. There was no way to foresee the consequences of my actions. Would the Imperials seek me out? What would become of the man I spared? Worst and best case scenarios played out in my mind. I had unwittingly become involved in events I desired no part with – by my own fault, of course.

    After all of the effort I gave to crossing the border, Skyrim was suddenly the last place I wanted to be.

     

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Comments

10 Comments   |   Fallout Night likes this.
  • ProbsCoolerThanYou
    ProbsCoolerThanYou   ·  January 23, 2015
    I love the reality of all the character's actions. Nothing seems forced in this. Amazing.
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  December 6, 2014
    @Lol pasta
    I don't actually recall that line in the game. I made up Ralof's line of dialogue without really referencing anything. Interesting that you made that connection, though.
  • Lol pasta
    Lol pasta   ·  December 6, 2014
    “No shame in defending yourself, friend. It was a good kill.” If you side with the stormcloaks in the civil war, there's a part where if you talk to Ralof he will say "I sometimes feel upset about killing" not the exact words so dont quote me on that and ...  more
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  October 25, 2014
    @Tolveor
    Thank you. I'm aware of the difference. I've just got a bad tendency to make silly spelling mistakes. I shall fix it promptly.
  • Tolveor
    Tolveor   ·  October 25, 2014
    Still liking the story and I got something else for you: The hallway that greeted us bellow was dimly lit by metal framed torches.
    Bellow is supposed to be below i think as bellow is yelling basically First paragraph after the first set of dialogue
  • Tae-Rai
    Tae-Rai   ·  March 3, 2014
    I like how it doesn't actually follow the game. Very nice!
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  February 8, 2014
    @Drifa
    Fixed. Thanks for catching that; for some reason, "bore" sounded like a cooler way to say "bared" in my mind. Though their meanings are nothing alike...
  • Drifa Skir
    Drifa Skir   ·  February 8, 2014
    Nictitating membranes and doleful glower for the win. i really appreciate it when writers use the full extent of the language to express themselves, and you do a really nice job of this, O-Z.
    one minor detail: fangs *bared*.
  • Raid
    Raid   ·  February 7, 2014
    Man I love this blog. Makes me want to get back into my own blog. Okan, you have a ton of talent for this type of thing, and all I can say is keep up the brilliant work good sir! Now, onto the next chapter...
  • Okan-Zeeus
    Okan-Zeeus   ·  January 28, 2014
    Me neither. I just happen to know a few specific things. XD