Rastislav
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Arc 8 Chapter XXXVIII: Clearing Out The Vermin
🕑 Added 2024-11-26 22:26:32 +0000 UTC(Reyvin's POV)
Tearing through the poor fuckers was as easy as breathing at this point. I didn't even need to bring out the fire, merely mentally grab every single bit of metal they had on them and pull, focusing most of my magic on the leader as his gloating offended me something fierce.
So much so that I even slowed time just to instill as much terror into the little shit as possible.
"Now" I growl as I grab at the bloody piece of meat "How about you te-"
I pause as I realize he wasn't even twitching...
With a scoff of irritation I toss the limp body aside, tumbling it onto the throngs of lizards below. Fucker died from shock.
Divining some quick tactical information, I summoned Surge into my right hand and began channeling my Magicka into a massive spell. My time in Cyrodiil was not wasted on idling (part of it anyway) and I spent many sleepless nights working on my large scale spells in preparation for the inevitable clash with the Thalmor, and now I just got a few thousand volunteers for some good old field testing.
Feeling almost all of my Magicka, a good ten thousand units worth, gathered in the massive runic array above me in just above a short two seconds, I grinned in satisfaction and with my free hand pulled.
(General POV)
Almeril Faren was not a mage, not even close. Even after decades of trying the best he could do without specialized equipment was summon a small flame fit more for a campfire than actual battle, most of his Magicka sense coming more from sheer instinct than anything actually palpable.
It was rather baffling to him then, that when what he knew for certain was Lord Dagoth cast his spell, he actually felt it for the first time in his life, the Sadras mage beside him gasping for air all of a sudden all but confirming he wasn't hallucinating.
He did not have much time to consider the implications though, as whatever the Lord Godslayer was doing finished and what looked to be a vortex of fire appeared hundreds of meters above him, crackling crimson fire at that.
In an instant, the vortex unraveled, sending hundreds upon hundreds of bolts of searing flame across the entirety of Kragenmoor, the short screams of the Argonians lasting for but a split second before they were unmade.
A small part of Almeril was quite grateful that his helm hid his face for he would have never been able to live it down if his subordinates saw him gape as much as he did at that moment.
The mere thought of the shame was enough to shake him back into focus as he began slapping his warriors awake and bellowing out orders, for all the arcane might of their rescuer there were still hundreds of lizardmen dispersed within the city and clearing them out was something the warriors of Redoran were more than capable of doing.
(Reyvin's POV)
"Could use some tweaking." I tsk as I feel more than see the Redoran Guard rushing towards the remaining groups of lizards, the legionary cohort outside the gates doing their best to cordon any potential paths of retreat as the veteran Legate quickly reacted to the shift on the battlefield.
Probably a Great War veteran then, if he could react faster than an elf.
Deciding that my part in all this was done, chasing down peons was simply not worth my time, I approached the hunched figure of the high adept mage clutching at his stomach with pain visible in his eyes.
Hunched over as he was, the elf bearing the heraldry of what I vaguely recognized was Great House Sadras, he still managed to offer a deep bow "My thanks for the timely rescue, archmage."
"It is no trouble." I wave him away, unsummoning my crown and making him gape at just how young I looked "You need any help?"
"If you could, that would be much appreciated." He croaks out.
A quick scan quickly reveals he was suffering a heavy potion overdose, and while I could heal him enough that he would still be able to function, his magic would be fucked for a month at least.
Oh well, nothing for it then.
I blur into place before him and simply punch him in the stomach, sending vibrations through his whole body as he finally failed to keep the liquids down, doubling over and throwing up a veritable sea of dirty blue on the bloodied walls.
"N'chow!" He curses as he hacks out a cough, my ensuing restoration spells calming him down somewhat "Tank you." He forces out.
"That came dangerously close to killing you." I point out "Best just get it all out."
He stops glaring for a moment and nods a couple of times "Probably right." Once more he offers a bow "Sadras Regnild, House Cousin." Just as I am about to introduce myself, his eyes widen as he finally manages to get a good look at my own heraldry, a mix of fear and awe now hidden behind his pained look.
A bit amused I introduce myself anyway "Dagoth Reyvin, Great Lord."
"An honor." He says neutrally, a dry chuckle on his lips "So you are the one Faren has been hoping would bail our collective asses out? Not sure if I should consider us lucky or cursed."
"I am a blessing to whomever meets me." I grin happily, completely unbothered by the screams, begging for mercy, the denial of the same, and other miscellaneous noises around us "Why I think I may even choose to inspire a dream or six."
He pales though impressively doesn't so much as twitch "Please tell me you are fucking with me."
I just keep smiling at him "No, I don't think I will."
The Sadras looks halfway through either running away or simply ignoring my words, and being at least a bit wise he swiftly chooses the latter.
"Come on then" I wave for him to follow as I start walking to the south of the city "There is a bit of resistance this way and I am curious to see how they do."
He doesn't seem too tempted to ask who I was referring to.
---
A few minutes later we approach a large bastion tower now occupied by a bunch of Argonians, desperately trying to hold off the Akulakhan's blurring form as he rips them apart with either glaive or fist, Anondor dutifully warding away any potential blow and retaliating with swift precision borne of centuries of practical experience.
But I already expected them to do well so my gaze was drawn elsewhere.
Almost in a lesser mirror of my own little band, the two Ashlanders and the Indoril hew through the Argonians with appreciable skill and power. The big Erabenimsun tribesman crushing through their light armor with each swing while his shorter brother struck with both sword and shield, breaking bone and stabbing through gaps and weaknesses with each movement, the priest quickly healing them and preventing each mistake from turning into a liability.
It takes them only minutes before the thirty or so lizards are cut down to the last, the final one uselessly crawling away as Junior simply stepped on his spine, granting him an agonizing death.
Now while I may have given permission for prisoners to the legionaries earlier, that did not mean I preferred them. The worst part about my levels of clairvoyance was the ability to see everything around me, and on a battlefield one could not afford filtering out any information above a certain level.
Which meant I got a perfect look at the damage done to the city and more importantly its inhabitants. The Redoran did a good job retreating them to the northern bastions but there was no way in hell they managed to get everyone and the results were not pretty.
Not at all.
The trio I invited along quickly surveyed the area around them, saw me looking at them with amusement, and promptly plopped their exhausted asses on the clearest bits of the wall, the two Ashlanders grumbling all along while the priest was giving me a look of unmistakable religious validation.
Ugh! I could practically taste Azura's amusement.
Anondor and Junior were far less unprofessional however, and the two of them quickly fell in behind me, the ensouled automaton completely ignoring Sadras while Anondor gave him a speculative look.
I saw the cordon around the city finally close, and the legionaries begin hunting down any escaping groups of uppity lizards but still, better safe than sorry, so I gave the whole place one more burst of powerful sight beyond sight...
...And quickly realized one of the little shits managed to escape.
"Well now." I tut, drawing immediate attention from everyone as Scorch formed atop my shoulder and leapt away in the slimy little shit's direction "That just won't do."
(General POV)
Aladar-sin ran like his life depended on it, his lungs contracting and expanding rapidly as he forced more and more air into them to the point of nearly making them crack, a feat not naturally survivable by non-Argonians and greatly draining even for the marshfolk.
He covered leagues in his mad dash south, the news of enemy reinforcement too important to be lost even if his band fell to buy him time for it. The Hist would honor their sacrifice, this was known.
The edges of his sight began to dim, telling him that he was slowly approaching his limits and would soon begin to falter. He thanked The Hist for he calculated it would be enough.
Or it would have been.
A sudden pain assailed his shoulders and he looked up in a panic to see a massive flaming bird clutching at him and carrying him into the skies, its trajectory turning northwards even as the Argonian in its grip struggled uselessly against his imprisonment.
Aladar-sin could have sworn the bird spoke to him in mockery but he could truthfully not say at that moment for his mind was both exhausted and terrified as he realized he was brought to the city of the slavers and knew his fate was grim.
The Hist would prevail in the end, he consoled himself even he was brought before the thing that posed as an elf, its cruel smile telling him exactly what would happen now.
He prepared himself to resist but apparently the creature had no intentions of speaking to him as he suddenly felt something scratching at his mind, colors assaulted his senses before solidifying into one terrifying sea of red, so much red, drowning him, tearing him apart...
...unmaking him.
(Reyvin's POV)
"Well, that is interesting." I mutter a bit of annoyance in my voice as the Argonian's eyes melt and I manage to dredge the last bit of information from his literal lizard brain 'Far more resistant than I expected.'
Almeril stiffens slightly, his immediate guess probably hitting quite close "What is, Serjo?"
He and a good number of his officers, alongside the Legate and everyone else of note had joined me in the City Hall of Kragenmoor, the Redoran thanking me profusely and assuring me the Archmaster will honor my house without question for saving an entire city.
The rest of those I had yet to introduce myself to were a bit more hesitant to even interact with me but when a literal force of nature, very humble I know, stands before you you can't really say 'No.' now can you?
I scratch my goatee, my eyes staring south "That was just the scouting party."
A moment of silence passes before the Redoran veteran begins belting out every single curse the Dunmeri language holds, and then proceeds to invent new ones just for the occasion, utterly terrifying his younger subordinates and coming up with such filth, some of it made even me blanch a bit.
"Well, good luck with that." Sadras says simply and gets up from his seat, already heading out towards his freshly recuperated band of caravan guards, the same fellows that accompanied him even as they all got stuck in the siege to begin with "I am going to grab my men and retreat before this whole place turns into a hellhole."
I just appear before him in a twist of shadows, a grim understanding already forming on his face "I am afraid all capable hands are getting conscripted for this one Sadras, no exceptions."
His face turns sour "Respectfully, you have no authority over me, Lord Dagoth."
My eyebrow raises.
He stares.
My eyebrow raises further.
He spits on the ground and goes to join Almeril in his cursing, the two then proceeding to cooperate into bringing more delightfully filthy curses into the world.
Honestly at this point if they managed to bard an actually magical curse into existence I wouldn't even be surprised.
"We just need a Telvanni and a Dres and we have ourselves a full party." I mutter as I scratch my goatee, suddenly pausing "Now why do I feel a sense of foreboding at that idea?"
