Private Rise of the Draugr (Mk II)

[OnlyThePie]

Hjor was pleased that the Watch hadn't come across anything unusual. The stench of death in the air, while strong, didn't bother him. He'd been in enough Crypts and Tombs that the smell would probably never bother him again. He was glad the Imperial was willing to speak with him, he was worried nobody would speak at all on the way to the fort.


The Imperial had clearly not had the chance to remember his name yet, but then again, Hjor hadn't learned his name either. They all had something to learn. "Judging by your gear and looks, I wouldn't call you a stranger to battle, correct?" The Imperial grinned, but Hjor wasn't sure whether it was real or not. "I take it you prefer using those blades of yours instead of ranged weapons in combat?"

Hjor glanced down at the sword in his hand. It glowed incredibly faintly, almost imperceptibly, with a dark orange hue. "I prefer my Greatsword usually." Hjor said, gesturing to the dark green blade protruding from the center of his pack, which he had remade to hold more than one sword. "These other three swords are ancient." He gestured to the sword protruding from the left of his pack, "This is Sculbar, I took it from the Bandit Chief who killed my Mother and Sister. It has some kind of frost enchantment on it, but it's stronger than anything I've ever encountered." As he said "Frost" it glowed ice blue, faintly.

Hjor gestured to the sword on the right side of his pack "This is Dvendral. After I found Sculbar, I became obsessed with it. It led me across Skyrim in a search for it's purpose. I discovered the three blades unlock the tomb of the ancient king, Braaldur." Hjor grabbed a rag from his pocket and polished his left gauntlet as he spoke. "Dvendral moves faster than any blade i've ever witnessed, and seems to respond to the wind. I found it stabbed into the top of a massive tree." As he said the word "wind" the blade glowed a similarly imperceptible shade of green.

He hefted the sword out of his scabbard, putting away the rag. "And this is Jovus. I don't know what it does yet. I haven't used it. I pulled it out of a cliff over a crypt just a month before all this happened."

Hjor glanced around, suddenly fearful. "But these blades, despite their power, come at a terrible price. They speak in your head as you use them, and fill you with memories that are not your own. Sculbar is the worst, but Dvendral has the same effect. This is why I prefer my own weapon to these monstrosities. But I fear we may need their power in the coming months ahead."

Hjor shook his head. "Sorry, am I boring you? I'm Hjor by the way." he said, laughing.

 

[Lady Redpool the Unlifer]

"Alright everyone," Dagvar said, to get their attention, "we know where we are going. We know what awaits. But we have to get there first. It's a short walk. Maybe just two or three hours. Keep your eyes open."

At these words, Thell rose and joined the group for their walk to the fort. He had stayed in his meditative position as long as he possibly could. He didn't have a pack or a tent to get together, no weapons to sharpen and had decided against making breakfast this morning. He had put off starting the day for as long as he could.

Today they would take Fort Greymoor.

Thell wasn't looking forward to it. If it was empty, he would be glad. If it was full of Draugr, he would be ecstatic for yet another opportunity to rid the earth of more of the monstrosities. There was every likelihood however, that some group of survivors had taken up residence, and that they would have to kill these people to take the Fort and give themselves a better chance at survival. He would not harm a living creature. He had sworn it, and would not change that now. His comrades would depend on him though, and he did not want to let them down.

As he thought of all of this he saw Dagvar motion to him. Sighing, he joined Dagvar at the head of the group.

"Thell, I am curious to know. You profess that you hate fighting. Will you be able to contribute in taking Greymoor?"

Thell remained silent for a moment, then said, "I will not harm a living being. If we find the fort full of Draugr, you can expect me to end them without hesitation, and likely with much joy. If it is manned by the living however, I will have to hang back." These last words weighed heavily on Thell's heart as he said them, but it was important to stand by his vows, even in times like these.

He knew he would be far from useless though. "I can heal anyone who is wounded, and while I won't harm the living, I think you'll find that the alteration school has many tricks that to the creative mind can be used to disable and disarm without having to directly harm the opponent. If you all need me to, I can disable our enemies quite effectively," he added.

Looking to Dagvar he shrugged and couldn't help but laugh. Noting that it probably seemed quite strange to the man with whom he was speaking, he explained, "It was much easier on my own, to paralyze a foe and just continue on my way, now that I am with others, conflict is far more difficult. There is certainly safety and strength in our numbers, but it is no simpler."

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Despite seeming somewhat absent, Guryon had actually been paying attention to the boy's story, while scouting their surroundings with his eyes. Occasionally, he would even give away a slight expression of marvel, when the blades glew upon hearing their element's name. "Sorry, am I boring you? I'm Hjor by the way." He suddenly changed tone, making the imperial turn his head back to the lad. "Oh, no, not at all. I wish I had a tale of my own, but the truth is these axes were the first ones I could grab before Solitude was overrun by the Draugr. No drawbacks, no enchantments, just the usual axes an Imperial Soldier gets to use. For a person like me, its best to keep killing simple. But to each his own, I guess." He took a pause to cough a little, to then resume his speech with a somewhat scratchier voice. "I am Guryon, from Solitude, and I am hoping that there is some alcohol in the fort to smoothen this bloody-" Another 'cof!', one that this time Guryon could not muffle, echoed slightly across the nearby dead plains. "... coughing..."

 

[Kaelbu]

Brienne was woken by the rustling and footsteps of her camp mates readying themselves to leave. She rolled over in her bedroll and gazed up at the morning sky. However brief it may be, she was thankful for the break in the darkness. It was almost as if they were navigating an endless night, searching for a Draugr-less dawn that may never come.

Even so, things always seemed better in the morning, Brienne thought. She prepared herself for the short trek ahead, fastening her mace to her hip and raising the hood over her head.

"Alright everyone," Dagvar addressed the group. "We know where we are going. We know what awaits. But we have to get there first. It's a short walk. Maybe just two or three hours. Keep your eyes open."
As the journey to Fort Greymoor began, Brienne naturally fell into a position near the middle of their formation. Although she made no conscious decision to protect herself, it was the safest place to be.

After a few minutes had passed, Katie wandered closer, to walk at Brienne's side.
"Hey, Brienne?" She spoke quietly, not really wanting to blare out her problems to the whole group. "Can I talk to you about... about the Divines?"
Brienne glanced over at Katie, pleased that she had such things on her mind.
"Of course," she said gently. "It's times like these that we need to strengthen our faith. What's been on your mind?"

"Well, that's pretty much it. With all this going on, the dead rising from their graves, the living torn apart, the few survivors scattered across the province; I've found it difficult to keep praying to the Divines. I just keep thinking; how could you let this happen? What have we done to deserve this, you know?" She sighed heavily. "I was hoping you could give me some... reassurance. Some reason to keep believing, that's all."

"I see," Brienne smiled warmly, sliding her hood off to reveal the rest of her head.
"These are dark times, to be sure. It is understandable that your resolve to believe is wavering. Still, it is not in our ability to know the minds of the Divines. This could have been the work of beings with more influence in our realm, as the Aedra sacrificed some of themselves to create Nirn. The Divines may, in fact, be battling this phenomena in ways we cannot."

Brienne stopped abruptly, chuckling at herself.
"That's just me speculating, of course. What I'm trying to say is... do not lose heart. Mysteries surround our situation. 'Come to me, Kynareth, for without you, I might not know the mysteries of the world, and so blind and in terror, I might consume and profane the abundance of your beautiful treasures.'"

Katie wasn't used to the formality Brienne was showing, especially after the past few weeks. She appreciated the kind response, however.
"Hmm. The thing is, it's difficult to just change my thoughts like that. I know I believe in the Divines, but... I just always have that little voice deep down, that doubt that they have the power to stop..." She waved her hand about their surroundings. "Well, stop this. If they are gods, like we are led to believe, how can they not solve this with just a wave of a hand, or something?"
"Is it okay if I come to you occasionally, just to talk about this sort of stuff? I feel like this has helped, just to get it off my chest, you know?"

"We are but mundane beings trying to understand the heavens," Brienne nodded. She laid a hand on Katie's arm.
"But I believe our creators have not abandoned us. You can come to me any time. I hope I can help ease your mind,"she assured her before withdrawing it.

Katie nodded in thanks before falling back into her own path, leaving the pair to walk by themselves again.
It had been a long time since Brienne spoke of the Divines to another. Her duties mostly revolved around her healing skills, even before the Draugr outbreak. Once they really took hold of the land, however, she did little more than tend to the sick and wounded. Even praying was a luxury she barely had time for. It felt good to think of the reasons she became a priestess in the first place. Of course, in part, it was because of how Kynareth's priests introduced her to healing. But, more importantly, she believed. She had faith.

Brienne basked in the faint heat of the sun baring down on the top of her head. She looked forward to securing the Fort for themselves, and feeling safer. She only hoped the only hostility they'd encounter would come from the dead.

 

[Skyrimosity]

Dagvar was releived to hear that Thell's pacifism did not extend to the Draugr. It was hard to imagine anyone would have a hard time convincing themselves to kill those monsters.

The walk was silent except for some talking amongst Hjor and Guryon, as well as Katie and Brienne. Dagvar did not pay any attention to what was said between them. Truth be told, he didn't much care and figured that he had bigger worries. He saw the fort get closer and closer with each step. Looking around, he saw a bunch of blank faces; seemingly emotionless. Ever since it all started, Dagvar figured that everyone always had to have their minds on something.

It seemed like they were at Greymoor before too long. Truth be told, it had been a couple of hours of walking. The thinking helped the time go by much the same as talking could have. The Draugr could be heard inside the Fort, stumbling around and moaning. Dagvar got the group together; everyone had a look of being somewhat anxious. They couldn't be blamed, of course. Dagvar felt the same way.

"Okay everyone, the plan is very simple. Warriors at the front. That's me, Hjor, Hrogmar, and Eunji. Thell, you'll be right behind us. We're going to take out the closest targets. Skirmishers, that's Guryon and Solenne, should try to take out enemies that are attacking from a distance, like archers, first and then take attack opportune targets. Katie, you do whatever you can to support; perhaps the confusion of the scuffle will allow you to sneak up on enemies? Brienne, use your powers as necessary but keep in mind that your healing may be the most important asset we have. Into positions; let's go!"

Everyone got ready as Dagvar instructed. Some of them undoubtedly did not like that Dagvar was giving orders, but it seemed necessary to ensure the best possible result. Everyone prepared, Dagvar led the charge through the gate.

6 draugr immediately rushed for them. Dagvar blocked the first's attack with his shield and pushed him back, continuing to advance. It was important to create room for the non-warriors to maneuver. As a second charged right at him, Dagvar stabbed into the beast's chest. It let out a grotesque howl as it slumped off the sword, where Dagvar sliced its throat for good measure. He had missed out on what the others were doing, but he could hear arrows flying from the air. Hopefully, they were not all from the Draugr. He looked beside him to see Hjor on his left and Hrogmar on his right.

The number of Draugr in the area was obviously increasing rapidly; everyone was now at the peak of their preparedness. The battle had begun.

 

[OnlyThePie]

Hjor looked up and was startled to see they had arrived at the fort. He looked around at everyone. They all seemed nervous, but then, so was Hjor.

"Okay everyone, the plan is very simple. Warriors at the front. That's me, Hjor, Hrogmar, and Eunji. Thell, you'll be right behind us. We're going to take out the closest targets. Skirmishers, that's Guryon and Solenne, should try to take out enemies that are attacking from a distance, like archers, first and then take attack opportune targets. Katie, you do whatever you can to support; perhaps the confusion of the scuffle will allow you to sneak up on enemies? Brienne, use your powers as necessary but keep in mind that your healing may be the most important asset we have. Into positions; let's go!" Dagvar shouted at the group. Hjor nodded. Unlike some of the others, he had no problem with Dagvar giving orders. It meant the responsibility didn't fall as much on him, and he didn't not want to be responsible for all these lives.

As Dagvar smashed down the door, Hjor immediately took up his left flank, drawing Jovus from it's scabbard. Hjor watched as Dagvar smashed a beast in the chest with his shield. Hjor let out a roar, and swung Jovus at the nearest Draugr's neck. The head fell to the floor with a thud, and Hjor stomped on it for good measure. Jovus flared bright orange as the Draugr's blood covered the blade. A rough grating voice resounded through Hjor's head, like two mountains rubbing together. "So you have become the boulder, favoring brute strength over all else? Shall we see what else the boulder can do?" Suddenly Hjor was standing in a field, with low grass and large rocks scattered across the plain. A host of soldiers was charging at him, and he had only a few men to his back. Suddenly, he raised his sword in the air and shouted in a language he didn't understand, "Brokavir!" he bellowed. Suddenly, all the rocks lifted out of the ground, spun, and then smashed into the oncoming force.

And then Hjor was back in the fort. He looked around. No time seemed to have passed. He shook his head, and then decided to try something stupid. He spun Jovus in his hand, and smashed the point into the ground. Jovus flared a magnificent orange. In an expanding cone, all the floor in front of him was thrown a foot or so into the air. He watched several Draugr go flying, but a few bricks also spun through the air, and Hjor watched them land rather close to other members of the group. He oddly felt no guilt for almost killing them, and it might be helpful if someone was injured so he could earn more glory for himself. But then he shook his head. The sword was thinking that, not him. Hjor gave another roar, this time in the common tongue, from his head, not the blade's. "For Dawnstar!" he shouted as he plunged the blade into the skull of a Draugr lying on the ground.

 

[Kaelbu]

Chaos was upon them.
At least, that's how it felt to Brienne.
She had done little more than avoid the Draugr up until this point, and barely knew the brave souls battling the undead in front of her. Dagvar's words rang in her ears as if he was still saying them.
"... your healing may be the most important asset we have."

The magic tingled at her fingertips, awaiting a reason to pour from her. Brienne took her dwarven mace in her right hand and swung it loosely by her side, thinking of it more as a protective measure than an offensive weapon. She brought her left hand up to shoulder-level, a healing spell at the ready. The warm, yellow tones glistened as they swirled within her palm, just on the brink of being cast.

She advanced with the rest of her group, cautiously straggling toward the back. The others began picking off Draugr, their weapons making grizzly noises as they met their marks. She couldn't help but flinch as bone crunched and blood squelched around her. Such sounds had always accompanied the creation of the wounds she repaired. Her task had always been to make it as if they were never there. Her mind could separate Draugr from Draugr victim, but the noises bothered her even so.

The earth seemed to rattle beneath them. "For Dawnstar!" she heard Hjor cry out. Brienne couldn't allow herself to take in all the details of the ensuing battle. Her eyes scanned their field of vision in a fluid motion, sweeping over each of her allies and their situations. There were grunts and growls being emitted by both friend and foe, but she was determined not to let anyone's injuries slip past her notice.

Brienne continued behind the fighters, stepping quietly, mindful of her surroundings. However, despite her less conspicuous position, a Draugr managed to lock it's sickly blue eyes on her; their unnatural glow was dulled in the sunlight. She glared back at it, her vision partially obstructed by strands of blond hair.
It let out a blood-curdling howl before half-limping, half-sprinting at her with its sword raised. It had been a very long time since Brienne had caused anything harm. But she still knew how.

The small woman stood her ground, statuesque amidst the violence surrounding her. Her aggressor closed in on her quickly, and put all of its weight into a poorly-placed swing of its sword. Brienne easily evaded it, and the Draugr clumsily staggered past her, only to whip it's head around and continue its pursuit even faster.

Before it could close the distance between them, Brienne swung her mace behind herself, then up and over her head in a large circle. The motion was only broken by making impact with the monster's head, resounding in a nauseating slice-thud.
Brienne grimaced as she yanked the mace out and away, freeing it from the Draugr's skull. The Draugr itself, however, still stood, though considerably less aggressive than before. It swayed a little where it stood, still holding its sword-arm toward Brienne.

Not wanting to drag out the moment any longer, she brought her weapon down upon her opponent's arm, severing it, and the sword, from the body. She quickly followed with a blow to the knees, and the Draugr crumbled to the ground, where it's head finished splitting upon the stones.

Brienne's eyes shot back up, searching wildly for the others. The little fight she'd ended took only a few seconds, but they were precious seconds that weren't focused on healing. With the immediate threat to her life out of the way, she turned her attention, once again, to keeping her magic primed for casting. She hoped what light it emitted would be a beacon to any who were wounded. But even more, she hoped none would need it.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Dagvar took the liberty of organizing their squad just before the battle began, and Guryon had little to no objections about staying in the back, hurling axes at anything that got near. Before the group knew it, a pale horde would already be between them and their objective, armed with damaged weapons and armored with rusted steel. While things were moderately controlled, their frontline was doing a good job keeping the tougher Draugr away from Guryon and the female archer whose name he still did not know, and the imperial did his best to keep the bigger ones down in return.

It was curious. Despite clearly not intelligent to the level of a regular human being, the dead still held inside them enough knowledge to know that the archers should position behind the infantry. What could their rotten brains salvage asides from hatred and urge to kill? Guryon threw the first axe once the archers revealed themselves, managing to bury it in a skinny draugr's bony thigh, causing it to crumble shortly after.

The numbers of the dead increased rapidly, much like every other situation when the living tried to fend them off, but the group slowly managed to push forward, as the once again lifeless bodies were left behind their march. Guryon's axes, as well as other weapons that the fallen draugr left behind, flew dangerously close to his warriors' heads, most finding the thorax of a zombie to lodge themselves in. Despite being quite sure he wouldn't hit anyone on his side, the skirmisher did not want to be the cause of a death in such desperate circumstances. With a casual "Sorry!", Guryon turned his attention back to the archers on top of the wall, whose arrows' whistles had been getting dangerously close to his ears.

On the ground, an old, long, nordic rapier seemed to be asking to be picked up, its hilt shielded only by the curled bony fingers of a bloodless corpse. The blade's owner had fallen before it could even taste blood, and to make a blacksmith's work go to waste like that was very disrespectful. Plus, Guryon, despite picking up all the axes that he could safely retrieve, was slowly running out of ammo, as his targets became more and more protected by endless ranks of dead, and his axes harder to reach.

Without any second thoughts, Guryon ripped the blade from the corpse's grasp and hurled it towards one of the readier archers, just before getting his left hand trespassed by an arrow in return. "Argh..." The blade spiralled during its flight, and somehow found its way towards the monster's eye, going completely through its skull afterwards.

Now bleeding quite heavily, however, Guryon had a bit more trouble aiming, as the pain was quite distracting. After throwing one axe into the massive wave of enemies before them without even bothering to check if it hit, the imperial knelt down behind his comrades, to make several attempts to rip the arrow out of his hand, with little success.

 

[Lady Redpool the Unlifer]

As they arrived at the fort, it was obvious that the fort was manned not by men, but by Draugr. This brought a smile to Thell's lips. He would get to help his comrades after all. As orders were shouted and everyone took their places, Thell uttered a prayer.

"Meridia, grant me the power of your cause. My magic is enough to keep my comrades alive, but this is not a time for healing, this is a time to burn these abominations in your glorious light. Lend me your favor as I purge these undead in your name."

Following behind the warriors, Thell dual-cast a Ironflesh and quickly fell into a rhythm with his comrades. They were all skilled combatants, but against this horde some blows were bound to come through. The draugr that would have landed these blows found their weapons ripped from their hands, then cast through their comrades before the warriors put them down. Well placed telekinesis spells were always a favorite of Thell's.

His enjoyment was shattered by the arrow that pierced Guryon's hand. Thell couldn't turn and heal the man. The time it would take to do it properly would leave the front line vulnerable. So he did the next best thing. He took care of the cause.

Raising a hand above his head he cast Stendar's Aura to aid the fighters with the close Draugr, so he could turn his attention on the archers. Tossing Sun Fire spells at them with as much accuracy as his practiced hands could manage. It had been some time since he had enjoyed anything this much. The flow of energy was a warm tingling as addictive as moon sugar and he silently thanked Meridia and cursed her for this feeling.

Renewing the Aura, he called out, "We need to take the battle inside! We can't give these archers a clear field like this!!"

 

[Kaelbu]

"Argh..."

Mingled with the aggressive shouting and Draugr death cries, a single grunt of pain from the living fell upon Brienne's ear. He wasn't far from her, kneeling over a blur of red and the easily distinguishable tail of an arrow. The man who reminded her of an Imperial soldier. Guryon.

Brienne quickly ducked over to him, thinking less of the threats around them and more of his blood loss. The arrow was lodged in his hand, and he wouldn't be able to fight until it was gone.

Brienne cautiously grasped Guryon's wrist, assuming he wouldn't reject her help. There wasn't much time for discussion on the battlefield. She squinted through the blood to find the angle at which the arrow had entered, lowering her face toward his palm.

An instinctual flow guided Brienne's hands; a sort of auto-pilot cultivated over the years of tending wounds. She swiftly snapped the feathered end of the arrow off, deciding it would be best to push what was left the rest of the way through.

"Easily fixed," she reassured her patient. Guiding the arrowhead with her right hand, she gently pushed the broken end through with her left, healing magic radiating from it. As the arrow's shaft passed through the wound, so did her spell, knitting the fibers of Guryon's hand back together.

Upon releasing him, the hole was closed. Satisfied with the result, Brienne flicked the bloodied arrow away with a smile before returning to her feet. It was then she heard Thell call from ahead.

"We need to take the battle inside! We can't give these archers a clear field like this!!"

In no way familiar with battle tactics, Brienne happily obliged. She wanted to help in any way she could, even if that meant staying out of the way. Gripping her mace in defense once more, she caught up to the front line, ready to follow the warriors where they would lead.

 

[lucid-dreaming]

Eunji nodded to Dagvar, reluctantly then got in to position. It felt strange, and a bit degrading being ordered around by someone beneath her standing

"How does it feel being on the receiving end ?" the voice disturbs her peace of mind. "Have you fallen so low that you let a peasant boy bark orders at you?"

Eunji watches Dagvar ordering the rest of the crew, as if he has the experience. He obviously was new to it, "That boy wouldn't know the first thing about leadership. You, Eunji, on the other hand, an exeptional leader, getting the job done and surviving the worst before anbody else. You should be the one they take orders to. Or are you too broken and dead inside for credence?" A notion so true that she wouldn't bother arguing with. But a tiny part of her wished to lead again.

The battle had begun, a group of drauger storming towards them. Eunji dashed on the front lines together with the warriors, lightning and ice coalesced into a beautiful light purple colour, visible from a distance . She got three draugrs, then quickly switched into her katana, gracefully cutting through through the draugrs. It was much easier sprinting on the battle field with her ragged kimono and light leather padding beneath as opposed to her heavy akiviri armor. Speaking of w/c, she remembered leaving it behind on a hidden stash after the Morthal incident. She had to travel light, and there was no point in carrying a heavy burden such as that, its significance to her now is irrelevant. She saw an arrow pierced Guryon's wrist, tracing the direction from where it came from, she struck a chain lighting on the archer hitting anything nearby.

"The old man's tough, though he probably wont make it in the long run." The voice said as she looked over Guryon, kneeling, struggling to remove the rusty metal protruding from his wrist. She didnt notice a wight charged at her amidst the chaos that made her fall to the ground, struggling with the undead. She gathered her magic, producing a small purple blast from her hands and projecting the drauger a short distance above her, then rolling away before the crispy corpse could slam back to the ground. she got up casually dusting her kimono, when he heard the healer called out to get of the open field. Grabbing a bottle of magicka potion from her bandoiler, she took a large gulp before smashing the bottle into the ground. She fought through the small horde, sparks of lightning and shards of ice eminated from her while her blade runs through dry rotting flesh, making a way for the others to the entrance door.