Rastislav
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Arc 8 Chapter CXXVII: Gathering Kindling
🕑 Added 2025-05-14 00:35:43 +0000 UTCAn: Shoved a triple alarm right next to my face and still didn't manage to wake up when I wanted to (I am starting to fear my ass is narcoleptic at this point lol)
Last chap got some very minor edits, added a mention of the Windhelm legion because I forgor about them.
My lacking control and memory aside, I also did a thing!
Now that your eyes have feasted upon the true face of art it is time to return to your regularly scheduled program.
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(Reyvin's POV)
Thousands upon thousands of boots shook the ground, their steps blending into a chaotic rhythm as the line of soldiers stretched so far behind me that even in the flatlands of western Skingrad I could only ever see all of them with my third eye.
It was an oddly unique view I was graced with, being able to observe the front of the massive formation from atop my mount as they constructed a camp wall while the back still marched after them, the seemingly inevitable mess somehow ending up organized as the Redoran drillmasters and their lesser Imperial counterparts herded the troops around like true experts of the art.
And speaking of my mount...
The great orichalcum spider shuddered excitedly as I tossed a slice of meat into the air, the slab of food big enough to feed a family disappearing in an instant as Nimhe made a mildly disturbing chirping noise and devoured it all.
Getting used to that was very much worth it, as I got to relax atop the miniature howdah instead of having to use a saddle like the rest of the peasants. The bubbling excitement radiating off the massive spider was also oddly pleasing, even if the fact I could feel genuine religious devotion from an animal was another thing that would take a fair bit of getting used to.
"Uh huh." Scorch deadpanned even as he lounged atop a plush silk pillow to my right "And your enjoyment tooootally has nothing to do with scaring the shit out of the troops. No siree!"
"You know, I'd even agree with you." I directed my look at the camp "If a bunch of them didn't immediately start treating her like some sacred sign of the gods' approval."
Bird boi sat up at that, directing me with a withering look that held an almost physical force behind it "You are to Mephala what Nerevar was to Azura, the fuck were you expecting?"
"Point." I snap my fingers "Still fucking weird tho."
He shrugged with his wings and promptly plopped down atop his new favorite bed.
"My master." Akulakhan voiced "The meatbag General sent word, the pre-battle meeting is to begin within the hour."
"Oh?" Umbra, who had been pretending to not be paying attention "Are we finally going murder something?"
"No." I deadpanned "The poor fuckers at the bridge are barely above a militia, I doubt we will be needed."
"You and your practicality." Her monotone practically spat the word "Why not simply enjoy the act of disembowelment for the joy of it?"
"Because, my dear miss murder" I drawled "Disemboweling someone for the pleasure of the experience is much more difficult when you yourself are in possession of bowels. Tends to ruin the whole thing with this little trait called empathy, though I am unsure if you even know what that means."
"Oh my, shaming the mass murderer." Her voice was still flat as she mirrored my own "How ironic."
My eyes flashed with fire as my gaze snapped in her direction "Bitch I will enchant your sword to heal wounds instead of making them if you keep talking shit."
Her whole cold demeanor disappeared as she hugged the sword that held her soul "You wouldn't dare."
"Hermaeus Mora thought so too" I smirked at the automaton "And how did that turn out for him, hmmm?"
I felt a flash of genuine concern from the soul "You make a good point, killing militiamen seems like a waste of time."
'Prideful little shit' I scoffed internally but outwardly smiled "Good. I am going to go bother Tullius now, be good kids." I gave all three of them a cheery backwards wave and marched off.
Minutes later I found myself with my most senior officers, all of us looking down on the Istirus Bridge in the distance, the same grand stone crossing that served as the physical connection between Cyrodiil and Valenwood.
"Color me surprised." I drawled "The fuckers didn't even try destroying it."
"They likely felt it would not be worth it with powerful mages involved on both sides." General Tullius, serving as overall commander and personally leading Legion Whiterun, clinically noted "Sabotaging their own infrastructure would be a sign of panic, a minor annoyance for us but a severe hamper to Bosmeri morale."
"It could still be a trap of some sort." Almeril Faren, recently promoted and in command of Legion Kragenmoor, added "Doubt it though, the Emperor's declaration probably hasn't even reached them yet."
"Agreed" Tullius nodded without turning "The garrison doesn't look to be excited, and the doors remain unbarred. Dagoth, do you see anything?"
The complete lack of deference in his tone made some of the nearby Dunmer bristle but thankfully not the actual commanders "They are completely unaware." I answered after a few seconds "Only around a hundred of them as well, seems to be the usual border guard. Faren is probably right on the money."
Only my eyesight allowed me to see the Redoran elf stand just a tiny bit taller.
"Good." Tullius nodded "Legate Hrongar and Captain Maren" Balgruuf's brother and the the elder leader of the Sworn Mer stood at attention "You are to take a unit of Housecarls and Whitecloaks respectively, then storm the bridge and clear the way for the rest of us."
Thankfully I had already informed my subjects not to question the good General so Maren followed Hrongar's salute, accepting the order as if it had come from my own mouth.
"The rest of us" Tullius went on "Will finish the camp while you clear the way. Count Julian will remain in command of the auxilia and will serve as our rear guard."
The Count of Kvatch, the very same young man I blackmailed into preparing additional forces for the war months before I even left for Morrowind, saluted without a word.
I will be the first to admit, in the privacy of my own mind of course, that I was surprised by how seriously the kid was taking this entire thing, his whole slouched noble air had been transformed into someone who obviously knew what he was doing, even if the amount of enchanted gear he was carrying made him look like he was going full 'pay to win' in real life.
Then again, that was how wars were won most of the time, wasn't it?
Unaware of my musings, Tullius went on "Lord Faren will be in command of the vanguard, while the rest of us will remain with the core, our formation will be compact and focused with no allowance for scattering." He turned away from the bridge to face me "I trust that you will know where to act and where not to."
"We've been through this ride before, General" I shrugged "You focus on defeating their soldiers while I will focus on defeating their wills, same as before."
"Good" He nodded and immediately focused elsewhere "Our initial target is the border city of Arenthia. The city used to hold a large Imperial minority, that changed as you might expect." His gaze hardened "There still remain some humans who did not flee, and they are to be treated as enemy civilians until stated otherwise."
He met the eyes of every one of his human subordinates and while discomforted by the idea no one felt like speaking up against him.
The elves, and one familiar orc, gave naught a singular shit, naturally.
"Arenthia is well fortified." Thus satisfied, Tullius continued "The good news is that the forests around it are not thick enough to heavily impact our artillery train, the bad news is that they are sufficient to disrupt our battle formations."
He steepled his fingers "Our ultimate goal is Falinesti itself, and the whole of Valenwood if we can manage it in one push" He did not sound terribly confident in the latter "Which means that the forests are only going to get worse before we are done."
"And what about all the talk of moving trees the troops are whispering about?" Varen asked with a raised hand "Armor won't be of much use if the plants decide to crush us, or worse."
Instead of answering, Tullius looked at me.
"Shouldn't be an issue" I hummed after mentally sifting through all the information I gathered beforehand "They can move when needed but even if the Bosmer managed to rouse their support they will almost exclusively remain a terrain issue."
"Still noteworthy" Tullius said "Which means we will have to establish proper protocols amongst the troops. The enemy outnumbers us, and the terrain is completely in their favor. Our preparation must be made perfect to counter this."
Sadly for me, I failed to slink away in time, and I was stuck listening to increasingly inane rules and regulations the troops will need to have drilled into their heads.
Thank fuck I wasn't one of them.
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(General POV)
Hrongar of Clan Olafsson of Whiterun grinned as the comparatively tiny wood elf before him deflected the swing of his greatsword, the nimble Mer dancing around his blows even as his brethren fell all around him to bolt and blade with each passing second.
The elf was fast with his attacks and very nearly slashed the large Nord's throat at three separate occasions, the obvious commoner's survival serving as a boost to the defenders' morale and allowed a few Housecarls to fall to lucky shots from Bosmeri bows, the poisoned arrows swiftly ending the lives of even the most resilient northerners.
The wood elves felt their hearts rise as they, for but a moment, began pushing back, their comrade standing tall (for them) against the unbreakable wall of steel that was Hrongar, and holding him in place.
Only for all of it to suddenly come crashing down as the brave elf's eyes widened and he tripped.
On a rock that but a moment before did not exist.
And just like that, burgeoning hope was replaced with terror, as the young Mer was bifurcated by way of Nord claymore, and the Istirus Bridge fell into the hands of the Empire.
(Reyvin's POV)
Feeling delightfully devious, I lowered my hand and smirked.
"Didn't think you'd need to intervene in this one." Nerevar noted as I took in the scene and made a sketch "There were barely a hundred of them down there."
Done drawing the heroic stand that should have been but never will, I shrugged "The uppity little shit was about to get exceptionally lucky, and I couldn't be having that."
Was it some kind of fate attempting to interfere, the world trying to balance the things out between the two sides, or merely a fluke? The logical part of me immediately jumped to my enemy's more esoteric supporters but confirmation would have to wait for later.
"A lynchpin then" The first Hortator hummed through his helmet "That would have been annoying."
"And thus I cast rock" I nodded smugly "Can't ever go wrong with rock."
"All hail" My predecessor drawled.
"The weapon of all our ancestors indeed." The recently returned Anondor piped in, the words feeling just a slight bit forced as he still had trouble with the mere act of existence.
My experiment with Skirnir allowed me to fix some of his problems but the rest would sadly all be on him.
Unaware of my consideration, he pointed at the distance "It appears the vanguard is about to start moving."
"We probably ought to join them then" I pretended at grumbling "Tullius may have given us full autonomy to act but that doesn't mean we can laze around."
'You do realize it is only you that needs convincing of that.' Scorch chirped 'Lazy ass.'
'You know that pillow you are enjoying so much?'
'...yeah?'
'I think I am going to get one of my own.'
'.....great?'
'Made of phoenix feathers.'
Before most mortals could blink, Scorch had materialized next to me and promptly skedaddled.
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The march to Arenthia was oddly silent, eerily so in fact, as we marched across the stone road that did not look like it had been maintained in decades, and probably longer. The bridge across the river Crescent, a tributary of the Strid to its south, was somewhat better maintained, if only to stop it from crumbling in on itself.
No garrison stood on that crossing, meaning they either did not find facing us to be worth it and withdrew, or were unaware of our presence to begin with.
Not even the Thalmor would be that incompetent though... I hope.
With each step we took, I could feel a gaze surrounding us. It was not a mortal thing, but neither was it Daedric. In fact, it felt distantly similar to Kyne's own caress but much more primal, the magic in the air humming as it followed some kind of silent song I couldn't quite identify.
My observation of the phenomenon continued as we marched, my focus only increasing as we went deeper into the Bosmeri domain lest I be surprised by enemy trickery while parts of me were distracted. And yet to my shock, no trickery did come.
What I know to be the presence of Y'ffre* was focused almost solely on me, watching, evaluating, and easily coming to the unavoidable conclusion.
Divine attention was not something I truly expected when fighting the Thalmor of all factions but Y'ffre was not your usual god. It, or rather he, was focused on one area instead of the entire world, and was in pact with one specific people over all others.
A people thoroughly under Alinori leadership.
The conclusion should thus, not be even one slight bit surprising, as I felt the Bosmeri troops hiding to our south be empowered, only slightly of course but even the singular percentile increase to accuracy and agility I felt them receive would probably end up rather problematic on a large scale.
Tullius, being the absolute badass he was, didn't so much as twitch as I informed him of this, the veteran madlad simply doubling our watch and scout contingents to resist ambushes and proceeding just as planned as we approached the stone walled city, and immediately throwing himself at setting up a siege camp.
The Thalmor General within the city probably had the right idea. Draw us in with a relatively easy target that was Arenthia, engage us in grinding combat, keep at it until both sides are tired and we are ready to commit, and then sweep us away with the Bosmer auxiliaries.
The plan was textbook perfection, and with anyone else it may have even worked.
Rolling my eyes at the obvious strategy I turned away from the city and to the south, signaling for my most elite forces to ready themselves as I did, and began walking towards the forest brimming with wood elves.
I stood just outside the edge of the forest, my metaphysical gaze meeting with that of Y'ffre and affecting the equivalent of a raised eyebrow at the forest god.
The primal force of Valenwood did not even consider the implication and refused to relent.
"Very well then." I grinned and felt my divinity begin to simmer "If you want to play, then let us play."
And then, without a moment's hesitation, I unleashed my curse onto Valenwood.
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*Y'ffre is the Bosmer forest god (forests and song technically), the one they made a pact about not eating any plants with and pretty much their chief deity (officially it is Akatosh but that is just lip service, carnivore cult all the way for these twinks)
Comments
Hakkira
Thank you kindly for the chapter ๐ Climate change is about to become a thing here in Valenwood...๐ฅ๐คฃ
Grafian
Truly your art brought a tear to my eye. Just the one though, can't have growing too big for your britches after all
