Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale-Chapter 476 - XCIII: Raven Rock And Roll

(General POV)

Captain Veleth of the Redoran Guard assigned to the fortified town of Raven Rock looked down from atop the walls of his charge and hid a wince.

For days now their defenses have been assaulted by an assortment of reiklings and reavers who seemed to have found the motivation they lacked in previous decades. Whenever he was given a free moment, he pondered what kind of leader could focus the usually dimwitted reiklings into a force cohesive enough to carry out a rudimentary siege.

A rudimentary siege that had already cost him dozens of men, he reminded himself bitterly.

He greeted a few of his soldiers as he did his rounds atop the eastern wall, the men saluted eagerly, or at least pretended at doing so but he knew them to be everything but optimistic.

So long as they held discipline he would not care.

An act he found rather difficult himself as he reached the abomination atop one of the bastions "Mage" He greeted curtly "Any new movements?"

The thing turned its head at him with an artificial deliberation and rasped "Nothing just yet, I have been observing their camp for a leader the entire night, and yet none has shown as of yet."

Veleth held back a scowl "And your... scouts, they are working properly?"

"There is no need to doubt my skill as you do my right to live, Captain." The barely masked lich pointed out dryly "I assure you that the birds I raised are transferring their senses to me properly."

The Dunmer did not even bother acknowledging the creature's whinging and instead cursed to himself "How in Oblivion do they manage to keep cohesion without anyone leading them then!?"

"They could be puppets." The lich points out hesitantly.

Veleth instantly scoffs "And do you know of anyone powerful enough to puppet thousands at once?"

"None we would stand the slightest chance against." Is the lich's answer.

The Redoran warrior goes to speak further but is interrupted by a raised hand covered in pristine bandaging "Hold on" A few moments of tense silence pass before the lich straightens his back "They are preparing another attack, get the men ready while I delay them."

He did not hesitate for one moment and marched away.

Marwyn of Daggerfall, and recently of Winterhold, scoffed as the elf left him. For all the disciplinarianism the fool tried displaying he was too stuck in superstition to be truly effective.

Probably why he was assigned to this bloody backwater, now that he thought about it.

The horde of reiklings stirred within their camp just beyond arrow range and soon teams of the little blue bastards started rushing the walls, gurgling their stupid war cries as they dragged rickety ladders barely tall enough to reach the walls with them.

A few of them fell to the arrows of the defenders but not nearly enough to slow their advance and soon they had reached the area just below the wall itself, its low gate barred close even after days of constant battering.

It was then that Marwyn made his move, as he took hold of his staff and grasped upwards with his free hand, sending out a light wave of Magicka to the numerous servants he had created overnight.

Suddenly, as one, dozens of holes in the sandy ground below the reiklings burst out as bony hands began clutching at their legs, said hands swiftly joined by teeth and weapons as Marwyn's minions rushed at their once-comrades and began devouring them alive.

"It is certainly no Death Unrelenting" He muttered to himself in satisfaction "But it is getting there." Having to manually raise the dead after they were slain was a rather large downside when compared to that venerable spell.

Sadly, his Magicka was limited, and only minutes passed before the rate of raising the fallen was outpaced by the rate of them being put back down, and a few minutes more left the lich with barely enough power to keep himself moving.

More than enough time for the garrison and militia to scramble to their positions and begin lobbing all manner of projectiles at the blue goblin horde, despite him cursing himself for his constant weakness.

But he did not reach for his limited potions, and instead merely observed the battle as it went, providing some minor healing whenever someone was critically struck by a javelin but otherwise staying out of it.

Sadly for his plans of sitting things out however, the reiklings elected to play dirty and merely sent larger and larger waves forward, slowly beginning to overwhelm those positions already weakened by the previous attacks.

The Redoran Guard were good, but their bonemold armor still had weak spots, and the mad little buggers were more than willing to pay the price in bodies to slay them.

Cursing internally as he saw an elf take a spear to the face, Marwyn chugged down a Magicka potion and prepared to cast destruction magic to free some of the space up.

He was not too efficient with that particular school but conjuration would not help him here, even with his staff's enchantments being tailored towards it.

Before he could strike however, he heard the distinct sound of a very large crossbow loosing its bolt to his distant right and only a short moment later he saw a line of red gorge itself into the enemy ranks, spraying blood everywhere as what looked to be a rather large scorpion bolt dug into the blue freaks without mercy.

That was but the first of a volley, as he soon found out.

And whatever spell he suspected his besiegers were under would not hold under something as terrifying as artillery fire, and they would soon have to make a decision. They would either press the attack to overwhelm them before the reinforcements could disembark or pull back and reassess the situation.

A few tense moments passed before the surge of enemies ceased and they began their orderly retreat.

And yet all Marwyn could feel was not the elation of victory, but gnawing doubt as he lacked the air in his lungs to sigh in relief.

"Mage!" Captain Veleth called to him "There is a ship closing in on Raven Rock, it carries Skyrim banners!"

"Reinforcements then?" Marwyn asked.

"We do not know yet" The Captain answered simply.

They reached the seaward tower and came upon the sight of a behemoth of a vessel currently dislodging multiple rowboats even as it itself approached the port, rowboats filled with people in full battle armor.

But Marwyn was not dismayed by this fact, and instead found himself forcing his mouth into a smirk "It would appear we are quite saved, good Captain, for that is King Torygg's own flagship."

The Dunmer looked just about ready to collapse in relief, even as he gave Marwyn a calculative look.

Not liking the gleam in the fucker's eyes, Marwyn decided to distract him "Fetch your First Councilor then, best welcome the guests who saved your hides properly."

He himself was after all never in any danger.

(Reyvin's POV)

From my perch in atop the bow of a rowboat I saw the city nearly descend into panic on our approach, the poor bunch no doubt thinking this was another attack before they took a second to actually look at the banners flying atop the damn ship we came on.

The moment we approached what looked to be the main pier I hopped off the boat and nearly regretted it as Akulakhan followed after me, causing the wood to creak ominously under us for a short moment.

Nearly shaming ourselves aside, we were swiftly greeted by a troupe of some dozen bonemold-clad soldiers escorting a duo of official looking Dunmer and a hooded figure that was so obviously undead it was insulting.

At least he didn't let himself go to the point of wearing tattered robes, that shit was so cliche I may have made him taste the sun if he did.

"Who are you outlander?" A finely dressed Dunmer with the dreaded mix of receding hairline and long hair called out suspiciously "What is your purpose in Raven Rock? Spe-"

Before he could demand I speak, his obvious superior stopped him by damn right nearly shoving his hand in his mouth, a rather prudent action as he actually took a moment to observe the banner my bodyguard was carrying on his glaive.

Immediately, the leader (who had the most god awful haircut I have ever seen upon a Mer's head, and of ginger hair at that!) fell on his knees, shoving his subordinate down on the way "Hail, Hortator!"

The guards around him went through the several phases of panic before all falling on their knees.

"Rise" I wave my hand upwards as my troops begin disembarking behind me with loud thuds of their armored feet "First Councilor Lleril Morvayn, I trust?"

The elf nods and stands, slowly followed by his entourage "Indeed, Your Grace. This is my second, Adril Arano" He gestures to the overeager one "Please forgive him, the attacks have made him naturally suspicious."

"I can hardly judge an elf for doing his job" I wave his concerns away and gesture for him to lead us away before looking to the undead "Marwyn, having fun I hope?"

The lich chuckles, though I feel no emotion from it "Certainly not as much as you, Reyvin."

"Go through a few protracted sieges like this and soon you too will be forcing god-trees on their knees" I quip "Well, that or you will still be miserable and under siege, could go either way really."

"I will certainly remember that" He responds dryly "We can catch up later, I will leave you to discuss defense with the good genlemer here."

He does not bother waiting for my response and shuffles away.

"Prickly little shit" I roll my eyes.

"Forgive me my curiosity, Your Grace" The Second Councilor speaks up "But you seem to know the creature?"

"Same year of apprenticeship in Winterhold." I explain easily enough "He is competent enough but too taken with the achievements of others to content himself in his own work. Good head on his shoulders when he isn't being an idiot though."

"We planned on removing him permanently after he did his work." Lleril tells me without the slightest hint of hesitation or remorse "But we can postpone his removal if you so desire?"

'Understandable, if distinctly a dick move' I knock my evaluation of the Redoran duo both up and down internally "Leave him be, his master would be less than pleased if he were to fail to return, and I have multiple important projects going on with him at this time."

"By your will." He inclines his head.

"Now enough about my old colleague here" I redirect the conversation as we exit the docks, my troops passing us by as they rushed to the walls to relieve the tired defenders "I have to ask do you have any inkling about why exactly you have been placed under siege?"

"Nothing beyond the ravings of the Elder Othreloth in the temple" He shakes his head "The Ashlander was adamant that the Reclamations tasked us with defending something important within the town itself but I haven't the faintest idea of what it actually is."

"So that is why you are still coherent..." I mutter with narrowed eyes "I see." I say more loudly "I should like to meet with him soon enough but first we must ensure that the town is in good condition and we are under no threat of sudden enemy breakthrough."

"Certainly, Your Grace." The First Councilor nods, having fully expected such "However I have to ask, even if we did send for help how is it that the Hortator himself came to relieve us?" He pauses before swiftly adding "Not that I am complaining of course, your presence is a blessing! I am merely... curious."

"No need to explain yourself" I chuckle and shake my head "The answer to your question is best left where we cannot be overheard easily, but suffice to say the situation is quite beyond what you or any army can reasonably deal with."

"Ah." He his mouth clicks shut before he lets out a long sigh "I feared that you might say that."

"Cheer up Councilor" I grin at him "It only gets worse from there!"

For whatever reason he did not seem all that cheerful.

-------

The house thus discovers its newest stone mine!

Come fort my dear miners and get to work!

(due to lack of infrastructure any and all salaries will have to be held back for the foreseeable future, he house gives you your due praise for your dedication in not complaining about this turn of events)

(Or else.)

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