Open Fading Hope

[fellowknight]

Baroth nodded and greeted the young Redguard boy. He shook his hand firmly, his grip was good and his firm glare was even better. He would make for an honorable Dustman, maybe even leader of the clan, if he kept his head clear and his sword readied. "I've heard much about your comradeship, Sir Baroth." The boy said respectfully. He smiled and nodded to the boy.

"Indeed, in our short time together, we came to know one another quite well. And those are the days i miss most my friend" He smiled, the boy was sure to be a great leader of sorts, in due time. Then he heard Marius suggest they head to Whiterun and recruit some more men. This, he could tell, was a great plan.

They desperately needed some more men if they were to hold the village any longer. He also said that his son, Alesan was his name by his hearing, would control both his own men and Baroth's. This seemed like a fair challenge, and by what Marius said, he was an assured fighter and commander. I guess the saying is true, Like father like son. He said that they would move out soon and could plan shortly, before turning towards the mercenary whom Baroth now recognized. Marek. Then he decided to speak to Marius, while he had the chance. "Sounds like a plan Marius. I'll go ready the men for their new commander." He said, glancing at Alesan with a smile.

He then nodded to Marius and turned for the door. Suddenly, a guard and a hooded man entered and approached him. "Sir! Sir Baroth! This, er, forest-man has some ne--" started the guard. "I'll take it from here, sergeant, thank you for your help," cut off The hooded man. The guard nodded, and ran back to his post at the southern gate. The hooded man then stepped forward and pulled back his hood to reveal a rough and all too familiar face. Hale. So he survived the outbreak. I thought he would. He IS unpredictable. Though i have to admit, it's awfully good to see his face again.

"Baroth! So you're the leader of this resistance here, aye! Good to see you! When the sergeant there told me you were the protector of this town, I could hardly believe my ears! Then I thought to myself, of course Baroth survived, he's a knight after all! And Marek! Good to see your hide's still in one piece, aye? Nevertheless, while it is good to see you, and while I see the signs of recent battle, we must ready for one more I'm afraid. There is a small group of dremora, the kynval clan I believe, as well as a nine foot tall devil warlord called a balor, about fifteen minutes away. They will be approaching from the woods near the Southern Gate, where I came from, and will hit us in that direction. I doubt they even know this town is still putting up a fight, so we may yet have the element of surprise. My suggestion is, that we have your men stay up on the wall and roofs of houses and give us covering fire, while you, Marek, myself, and any other volunteers take on the three dremora and the Balor. Working together, we should be able to take him down, what do you say?? Just like old times, eh?" He said with a grin.

Devil Warlord? By the gods, surely we don't stand a chance, but either way, we have to try. Baroth nodded in Agreement, They had to act, it was now or never. "Yea.... Like old times....i'll ready the men. Marius, you and Alesan here can think of some kind of strategy for the enemy's defeat, an ambush perhaps. Marek, you will join me on the front lines where we can distract the demon spawn long enough to buy Marius and his men some time. And Hale, you go with Marius and his men on their ambush, hit them from the back. Alright, let's move! We can not sit idol while my village is under threat by those, redskinned, meat sack bastards!" He commanded, before nodding at Hale and walking to the door. He grabbed the knob, gave a silent sigh, and pushed the door open.

He jogged out into mildly fresh air, welcomed by a deafening roar off in the woods. Whatever it was, it was big and it was heading this way. He rushed past a group of guards staring at the distant shadow in awe, yelling a command to them. "What are you fools doing!!?? Get your asses to the front gate! We need all the men we can muster!! Move!!" He yelled, as they quickly snapped back to their senses and followed him down the way. As he neared the center of the village, between the merchant's store and the Inn, he yelled a general order to all of his troops. "I NEED ARCHERS ON THE WALL FACING THE BRIDGE! FIRE ON MY COMMAND! I NEED WARRIORS OUTSIDE ON THE BRIDGE WITH ME! FORM A LINE WITH SHIELDS UP! AND I NEED HEALERS TO STAY WITHIN RELATIVE RANGE OF THE BATTLE! KEEP THOSE MEN UP AND ON THEIR FEET! GET MOVING NOW! WE HAVE A DEMON ON OUR PORCH AND WE'VE NO TIME TO LOSE! MOOOOVE!" He yelled, as he ordered the guard to open the gate. The gate rolled open to reveal the demon spawn now arriving on the other side. Their walking behemoth was not to far behind, walking in with them as they began organizing themselves.

 

[Madrar]

"Salthar? Is that you?" A voice called, and the Thalmor robed vampire spun on his heel, right hand half drawing his sword, other hand preparing a minor magical spell. Then both his hands fell to his side, and his eyes widened in surprise. The woman walking towards him, or more specifically, the Altmer woman walking towards him was very familiar. 'Could it be?' Well, either it was or it wasn't and Salthar doubted anyone would go through the trouble of impersonating an old friend simply to put him off his guard. "Aliah Stormwind...I thought you left for the isles?"
Salthar was by no means unhappy to see his fellow vampire, and when they'd last seen one another several years ago, he had began to have more than just 'friendly' feelings towards the female vampire.

Despite the chaos and death that was rife in Tamriel, the vampire felt a tired smile pulling at his lips. It was nice to see a friendly face outside of his coven. What's more, he now had someone he could trust with him...well, as far as the cold, deadly vampire could trust anyone. He walked towards the woman, his robes rustling as he moved, noticing that the woman had the scent of recent combat all over her clothing and weapons. "Are you well? These woods are very nearly over run with foul creatures"

 

[Dabiene Caristiana]

(OOC: I told you I'd put one scene with Severus because I felt like it. Just to put some more horror into it.)

A Nord/Imperial Vampire Lord sat upon a makeshift throne in a dark and dreary cave. Hidden from the clutches of the monsters that now lurked upon Nirn. He looked haggard, tired... Drawn out. And that was saying something when describing a Vampire. But not just any vampire. A Vampire Lord. The man now called Soren Darkblade was deep in thought. His small clan starving and scared beyond compare. Looking up to him for guidance. He had defied Molag Bal. Especially what he had learned what he did to Serana, and other 'Daughter's of Cold Harbour'. It didn't matter wheither they asked for it. It was degrading, even for a Daedra in his mind. Prince or no. Still, Molag was the Prince of Rape. And Vampires. "Guess he has to live up to his title..." He muttered. Sighing he prinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

He knew they would die. For good this time. It was just only a matter of time. Serana sat next to him, looking at him intently. "What are you thinking about?" She whispered. "You know what I'm thinking, Serana. We're doomed--" "--Don't talk nonsense! Maybe we should seek out the Dawnguard... Maybe they're still alive. I know they aren't exactly the best or kind people in the world but--" Soren sighed in frustration again, "You know I want to... But even if we both are on the same page the others aren't!" He waved his hand toward the coffins, everyone besides the two sitting close were asleep. "We can't. Maybe this is the end. Maybe this is our punishment." "Punishment for what? Living? Severus, I know you think that this is the end, the end of all life. To pay our dues. But why did the living appear in the first place? What point would it be to live, or create life and then have it taken away in the most brutal fashion? I know your kinsmen fought over petty accusations... Stupid excuses, but that isn't reason to be punished. They made us like this... Daedra... Aedra... It doesn't matter." The man refered to as Severus let out a calming breath, then quietly replied, "I told you not to call me that. That man is dead. Been dead for a year and a half."

Serana stood up and stood in front of him, effectively catching his attention. Looking up he looked into her Amber eyes. "Listen, there's still hope! Maybe the Divines are hiding. I don't know how, nor where but maybe there is hope! I feel it." Soren chuckled at this, "Only the biggest spoiled brat would have the most courage and spunk in this entire dysfuntional lot." She smirked at this. "I don't know, Serana. Perhaps you're right. Perhaps you're wrong. There is only one way to find out. We must--" He was interrupted by a dull sound in the distance, no doubt at the entrance. Growling he abruptly stood up almost knocking over Serana but he grabbed her in time. "Damn it all. Here they come."

"But it's high noon!" Soren growled again and scowled, "Perhaps they have become bolder. Quite a feat for mindless undead. Of course when your mindless you don't have a conscience to stop you from doing stupid crap!" He unsheathed his sword and walked over to the coffins, knocking frantically upon them while yelling orders, "Get up fledglings! They're here! Group up damn you!" Serana barked orders as well, since she was second in command.

The unkown Coven rallied up in record time. They had gone over drills on the 'what ifs'. Better safe than sorry, Soren said. "Hold steady... If you see someone you recognize, it's not them. They are no more. They will rip you limb from limb, do NOT hold back!" The Coven growled together signalling that they were ready.

They heard more dull thuds and a crash. They had broken through the inner doorway, their growls becoming needy, fearsome. "Stand your ground..." Soren commanded. The orders were followed and they waited. Waited for what felt like hours. Another growl sounded then, then two. And three! They heard more crashing and footsteps and they saw the intruding virus infected zombies they had fought off for so long. "Charge!!"

The fight was long, harsh, grueling. Soren saw they were starting to lose. And more of the fiends kept pouring in. "We can't hold off!" "Fall back!" "No! Stand your ground!" Soren cried the third shout out. He ran his way over to Serana to help out as she blasted one of the creatures off one of the dirt cliffs. "We're done for." Soren turned toward her and snarked, "What happened to that glorious speech you gave earlier?! Hm?!" He slices open another creatures chest and promptly set it on fire. Still, more were coming in. "You were right. Maybe we are to be punished..." The undead man looked over and saw tears powering over her porceline like face. He held back a dry sob and turned it into a growl and hacked away at another. He could hear the cries of his Coven mates dying in agony, some turning into the creatures, some dying out completely for good. He looked up and saw the oil lamp above him. It was the last resort if things didn't go their way. The place was covered in oil, top to bottom. There was no turning back.

He clutched his jaw and held back tears. "They have forsaken us..." He muttered. Pulling Serana to him he shot a bolt of lightning at the oil lamp and time slowed. As it fell they clutched each other, neither wanting to say goodbye. So instead they waited for their eternal slumber.

And as the oil lamp broke, flames broke out.

Outside of the cave, if one were listening at all, they would hear the deaths of both the fiends, and the monsters that turned from their master.

(OOC: I actually almost cried... Damn. I was hesistant to pull this off or even post it, but hey, this is a zombie apcolypse. It needs sad and/or death scenes. End of. Got to admit though, this is better than some of the other trash hollywood puts out nowadays)

 

[Aethalia]

Aliah broke into a wide smile as she realized it was indeed Salthar Vivarian. The Thalmor vampire that had risked life and limb for a crazy quest, some years back. Although she hadn't had the time, she had developed feelings towards the powerful vampire. Closing the distance between them, she sheathed her weapons and wrapped the taller Altmer in a tight hug. " I was planning on sailing to Alinor...but the fighting on the islands broke out before I departed Solitude" she could also smell the scent of powerful magic use on him, and, like he'd said only moments ago."I'm fine, Salthar. These monsters were no match for me." looking past him, she saw the smoking corpses on the ground."Obviously, they weren't any match for you, either" she said, amusement tinging her voice.

 

[Osiris]

As Urzog asked who was in charge, a gruff looking Nordic man and his companions came rushing from a house, he began frantically shouting commands. "Nevermind, looks like I found him.." he mumbled, the Orc made his way over to the Nord man, "Your in charge eh? You have my sword, just give me an Order." he told Baroth. "Save the formalities, let us spill blood first." he insisted. To be honest, Urzog wasn't used to taking Orders, being a Chief, but he was smart enough to realize that this Nord knew what was going on better than him. Urzog awaited orders as the horde grew closer to the small village, readying his weapon for battle.

 

[Madrar]

Salthar was slightly surprised when Aliah wrapped him in a huge, caring hug, and his arms were out to the side, angled downwards. Then he smiled and hugged back, relieved that she didn't feel the least bit reserved about a hug. He wasn't particularly surprised that the fighting on the Somerset Isles had ruined the womans' plans. "I'm fine, Salthar. These monsters were no match for me." She looked past him to the dead zombies he'd left in the clearing. "Obviously, they weren't any match for you, either" the sorcerer smiled again, and nodded. Then his smile faded, as he remembered the hundreds of undead roaming the forests. "We should keep moving. Those beasts will find us sooner or later...I don't think we can take them all" glancing at the sun, which was hovering near the midpoint of the sky, indicating mid afternoon. " I think we should head for Riverwood. Join up with any other survivors"

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

Hale nodded at Baroth in affirmation of the knight's orders, following the knight and the others outside, walking towards Riverwood's southern gate. Hale had not taken orders from anyone in some time, but he knew a few things that were certain. One, he knew Baroth, and he knew the knight was a battle strategist in the finest sense. Two, Baroth had fought these kinds of battles against this sort of foe many times before now. How else could Riverwood have held out so long?

Finally, there really wasn't much damn time to discuss now, was there?!

All of a sudden, a large, powerful-looking Orsimer came up to their group, saying, "Save the formalities, let us spill blood first."

Nodding at the orc, who had seemingly been in a position of power in his clan, possibly even the chieftan, Hale replied, "My friend, it would be nice to have one such as yourself with us as we hit the balor head on! That is your choice, however."

Turning to the man Baroth had called Marius, Hale spoke while they walked quickly to their ambush position.
"Steel yourself, and your men. I've fought a couple balors before, and they have a particular weakness along their calves, and their foreheads. I saw you have your men hit the fiend with a volley, then you and I and some others charge in and circle the beast while Baroth takes care of its minions. We must stagger, cripple, and finally crease its skull. With me, friend?"

 

[Dustman]

Marius, who after commanding his crossbowmen, and leaving them to his son, had been quiet for some time. When the old comrade of Baroth's approached him, and issued the plan, Marius could see no problem with it at all.

"Before we go into battle, I have a suggestion regarding equipment." Gaining his comrades full attention, he continued "In my experience, I've not fought one vile creature from the pits of Oblivion that doesn't have an inborn weakness to silver." He pulled the greatsword on his back from it's sheathe, resting it's point on the ground. "Having lost some men before, we've kept their weapons for just a moment like this." He paused and signalled to one of his men. "Ornthall! The weapons!" A Silver Blade rushed to the inn steps, where a pile of leather rolls lay. He picked them up, and laid them on the ground. "I offer you take one for this battle. As I've found myself oft of saying, 'we'll need every advantage we can get'". He motioned to the rolls.

 

[Osiris]

A Mysterious Hooded man approached Urzog, telling him how it would be nice if he joined them in their battle. The Samurai nodded in agreement, ready to dish his anger out on the demonic hordes. "Then it is settled, I will join you in your fight m'lords, may we strike with the might of the gods!" Urzog exclaimed. He overheard the talk of strategy against the Balor, and jumped in when he heard a cease of conversation. "You have fought these beasts before? surely you have the Divines on your side human, for a monstrosity such as that could bring any Orc an honorable death." He was impressed by the skill this Ranger was rumored to possess, and was now anxious to see his prowess in combat. "I can feel the rage bubbling inside my very soul my brothers! Just give the word and I will do my best to send these foul demons to the Abyss!" he exclaimed, ready to fight. Another man offered Silver weapons to the group, claiming they were much more effective against the horde. Urzog looked over the blades, spotting a silver shortsword. He took it and bowed his head in gratitude to the man, who called himself Marius. Urzog wouldn't use it as his weapon of choice, his Kitana being that of which he forged himself, and an Orc blade being a very personal thing, but it wouldn't hurt to have the shortsword at his side for a quick kill.

 

[fellowknight]

Baroth was reading his men and waiting for his allies, when an orc approached him. He was in highly upgraded Orcish Armor and wore the helm of a Chief. He must be a War Chief. What an odd occurance, running into him. He will be awfully helpful though. "Your in charge eh? You have my sword, just give me an Order." he told Baroth. "Save the formalities, let us spill blood first." He said, anger burning in his eyes. He wanted to spill blood, as most orcs do. He unsheathed his sword, which was still covered in blood, and nodded as he faced him. He also head Marius offer Silver weapons to the group, insisting they were much more effective against the Foul demon spawn. He agreed and scanned over the weapons, spotting a silver sword. He grabbed it and gave it a few twirls and spins before putting in his sheath. He tossed his steel sword to Sven, whom he told to keep it safe.

Baroth then remembered the orc and decided not to be too pushy, as orcs, especially War Chiefs, don't like to be ordered around. He nodded and decided he would work well on the front lines, fierce and fast. He nodded, coming to a conclusion of his orders. "Yes. You will join me just outside the gate. Come, and bring your anger as well, we will need it." Then he turned and faced the small group of Warriors he had to work with. "Alright men, this is it! This is where we fight! If we can hold them off long enough, we will prevail! With the help of the Mercenary and the Chief here, we can and will be victorious! All we have to do is buy Hale and Marius some time! Come then men! Let's send these foul creatures into the Abyss!" He yelled, as he and the chanting men, walked out of the gate and onto the bridge.

The Foul demon spawn had already organized themselves, standing in battle positions, ready to die. There was a good twenty demons and that.....thing, in the center of them. Baroth's side finally came to a halt, a mere ten feet from the other side. They all stood in silence for a minute, all the demons scanning over the stone faced men. Then Baroth smiled and reach down into his boot and grabbed a dagger, which he flung straight into forehead of a demon minion. And so it began, with the men running and roaring at the demons and the Demons, leading their giant into battle as the two clashed. Baroth charged into a demon and ducked a claw form another as he came back up and beheaded the spawn. Then he stabbed a charging demon and ripped his sword out of it's side, forcing it to scream in pain as it fell back.

"ARCHERS! FIRE VOLLEY!" And they did, releasing the arrows in a wave that took down and wounded several creatures. He brought up his shield to block a few spare arrows before continuing his gore spree.

 

[Osiris]

The battle had finally begun, Urzog charged into the group with his new comrades, running and landing a jumping kick right under one the minion's chin. The zombie fell to the ground momentarily stunned, but met the tip of Urzog's blade as it struggled to get up. The Orcish Samurai continued to throw a graceful combination of Akaviri kung fu and sword slashes into the moaning, grotesque crowd of demons. The others showed just as much skill as Urzog did, Baroth inparticular nailing a minion in it's forehead with a dagger, such accuracy and speed was to be admired. All around him, the screams of men could be heard, one poor soul had seperated himself from the group and was eaten alive before any of the guards could save him..The leader of the Demons towered above the Orc, another thing Urzog wasn't used to. "Heh, your a big one aren't ya? pray to your false demonic gods before you die Monster!" he shouted as he rushed over to the Beast, just barely dodging a swing of it's giant fists. He circled the abomination, awaiting his comrades to aid in it's defeat.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

As Bjorn tended wounded in the inn, he heard cries from outside, and from these he gathered that another attack was on it's way. He glanced down from his current patient to his satchel of potions and assessed what he had left. "So far, so good, but first chance I get I'm going to need to restock on ingredients and get to brewing." Bjorn was an expert apothecary, one of the traits which had gained him the acceptance of his adopted tribe in Hammerfell, but without ample time, quality could only be had at the expense of quantity. Bjorn's patient was starting to feel the effects of a healing potion Bjorn had given him, and was now able to be left alone to recover. Bjorn moved on to the next man.

The man was a burly guard, and he had suffered a nasty slice to the shoulder from a werewolf. Pus oozed from the wound, and it looked as though something other than a werewolf had injured the man. He was suffering from delirium, and his face was covered with sweat. "H-hhow bad is it?"


"I can't say quite yet. Try not to move. Tell me if this hurts." Bjorn put his hand on the man's shoulder next to the gash and was preparing to test the arm and the area around the wound for pains, when the man cried out in pain. "AGH! MY SHOULDER!" Bjorn removed his hand and reached into his bag, rummaging through until he came to a potion for soothing pain. "Hold still," he said, "this will ease the pain." He uncorked the bottle and began to carefully pour the potion onto the open wound. It made a slight fizzing sound as it worked to accelerate the body's ability to form a scab, as well as to relax the nerves. The man sighed with relief.

Bjorn then returned to his bag once more, this time for a potion to fight a possible infection with Lycanthropy, only to be jolted back to the man's side by a shrill cry. The injured guard was hyperventilating, and he had become suddenly paralyzed. He shook furiously, the veins all over his body bulging like Bjorn had rarely seen, and his skin was turning a sickly purplish-green.

This time, there was no time for a potion. Bjorn snapped his entire knowledge of the school of Illusion into his hand, a simple Calm spell which he only ever had to use for emergencies like this, and charged it as quickly as possible. With the spell ready, he held the patient down forcefully, placed his hand over the man's heart, and cast. Under normal circumstances, the man would have relaxed, his heart rate would have slowed, and he would be still, but obviously, these were not normal circumstances, and the affliction persisted. Bjorn had no other options in his satchel of potions, so he called out loudly, "Someone! Help, quickly!" To his frustration, all the healers in the room were busy or did not hear over the cries of the injured, and he was left alone, to watch his patient die. He prepared for the inevitable, and when it happened, Bjorn was shocked; the wound from the werewolf reopened and was spurting copious amounts of blood. The man's eyes rolled back into his head, and then he began to rise.

Bjorn acted quickly, jumping back, pulling his staff from his back, and beheading the corpse of the poor fellow in a single swipe. He grabbed a nearby rag and wiped his blade clean, followed by his hands and face. He then decided to inspect the body; he had been sure the man was wounded by a werewolf, but the symptoms resembled those of...

A grim look swept over Bjorn's face. He looked closely at the blood that covered the table on which the corpse laid. It was green, and small organisms could be barely seen moving about inside the foul liquid. Bjorn lowered his hood solemnly, then called to the man who looked to be in charge, a mage directing other healers, "Come look at this. This man was wounded by a werewolf, but..." The man came, saw what Bjorn saw, and lost control of his jaw, which fell open.

"By the gods," he said, "It transmits on contact."

 

[fellowknight]

(Hold on, gonna edit my post)

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

The Ranger nodded his thanks to Marius, and took up a quiver of silver arrows.

Unsheathing his ancestral hand-and-a-half sword, Hale flashed a wicked grin at Marius. "My thanks for your assistance, good man! I'm sure those arrows will be of better use than my old ones. However...my sword is one of an ancient and powerful craft, specially attuned to kill the very essence of all devilish and demonic creatures. Now...let us fight, brothers! To arms!"

As Hale went with Marius and his other men to the ambush point, the Ranger could see the battle had already been joined. There was Baroth, the icy stare of bloodlust in his eyes as the skilled knight weaved, ducked around, and slashed his enemies. There were more of the demon spawn than before, though that came as little surprise to Hale. Interestingly enough however, was the Orc: not fighting like the many orcs that Hale had seen in the past, this one used a deadly and artful combination of martial arts along with his weapons, driving a hole in the enemy lines.

Then, the balor joined the fracas, quickly being engaged by the Orc. Turning fervently to Marius, Hale spoke. "We must hit them now, or our friends will be slaughtered!" The mental pain, rage, and burning fury rose in the usually calm Ranger's very fiber of existence. He recognized this particular devil. Grenvel was its name, and he had been one of the many who had taken extreme pleasure in the torture of the Ranger during his captivity in the Abyss.

Forgetting his sense of reason, Hale stood up from behind the brush he was hiding in, and strode forward so that he was out of the treeline. Drawing Sindar, his devil-eating sword, its silver glow illuminated in the noon light, Hale shouted at the top of his lungs.

"GRENVEL! LONG HAVE YOU HUNTED ME! TURN AND FIGHT ME, YOU RED-SKINNED SCUM! Fight me! FIGHT ME, damn you!" With that, Grenvel turned its horned head away from the Orc who had just barely dodged its massive, clawed fists.

Growling as a wolf does when it recognizes its prey, Hale made a quick motion with his head towards the Orc, hoping he would catch his drift to strike at the fiend's legs, it now being distracted for a moment.

 

[Dustman]

Marius overheard his old friend's speech. 'Wow, with a man like that these men would take on the Princes themselves on just his words alone.' This was followed up by Baroth's war cry as he charged into battle. Marius ended his quiet contemplation, and drew his greatsword and turned to the gate, spying his son running past the. "Alesan! Are the men in position?" Alesan, a crossbow in his hand confirmed his question. "Good. On my signal, I want you to unleash as many times as you can against these things." Then Marius turned to the open gate and the violence outside, and rushed in.

...​

The challenge at the northern gate was greater than he had expected. He had seen Baroth throw a dagger at a minion, and rush into the swarm, a cry on his lips. 'Always a showoff, isn't he' Marius thought with a smirk, and then saw his target. The massive demon stood several feet above his minions, roaring fiercely, his great horns sharp enough to pierce the very sky above. And that wasn't the most terrifying thing. The most terrifying thing was more personal to Marius - He'd never fought one before.​

​

Marius snapped out of the daze, and heard the Ranger's desperate cry. 'Well, first time for everything, I suppose.' Then, reaching back deep to an old spell from his Dawnguard days, he cried "STENDARR! SHIELD ME IN YOUR LIGHT!" All at once a great light surrounded him, the Aura of Stendarr. The demons around him fell back at it's power, and Marius shouted "ALESAN! NOW!" As the twangs of bolts from crossbows snapped forward all around, Marius placed a hand on the earth, and reached deep into his Alteration magic. A green sheen of light all at once encased himself, the Orc Chieftan, the Ranger, Marek Baroth, and the soldiers in proximity of the bolts, like a magic second skin. Magicka drained out of him in a great wave, and he knew that was the last of his spells for a while. As he looked up, the demons fell in clusters, pricked by many bolt each. The bolts that hit Marius's magical green-light armor bounced off. 'Alright. I won't be able to handle any more theatrics. Now for some old fashioned slaying.'​

​

In the opened ranks, Marius rushed forth, cloaked in Stendarr's light and sliced low on the Balor's legs. As expected, the silver burned his hide The beast roared, and swung a great fiery chain at Marius, but he ducked, and the chain hit the minions to his side. A great arm slashed down at the slayer, but Marius danced around it, turning, and carving a great gash in the demons forearm. Beside him, the Ranger closed in on the beast, his mighty sword ablaze in silver light.​

 

[Osiris]

Urzog saw Hale give him a signal, reading it as a sign to strike. The Orc wasted no time in charging the Balor, using his Kitana to plunge into the Demon's calve. The skin was thick, but with his Orcish strength, he managed to break through the other side of the Balor's leg, yanking his kitana out and bringing the monster to one knee. Marius had sliced the foe's leg and arm beforehand, making the task much easier. "Ranger! Knight! the beast is vulnerable, strike now!" Urzog exclaimed, knowing that the two would know how to fell the beast much better than him. He continued to circle the beast, ready to strike before the great Demon made any sudden moves. The horde began to turn their attention to their wounded leader, forcing Urzog to continue to ward off the creatures. The Orc brought his armored knee to a zombie's chin, knocking him in the air from the force. "Hmph, lightweight." he muttered as he spun and sliced another zombie's chest, it's boiling dark blood splattering on his face.

 

[Dustman]

The Orc Chieftan's parallel attack brought the great demon to his knee, as waves of bolts scattered the demons that circled them. Marius looked over his shoulder, and, remembering his words against the demon shouted "RANGER! STRIKE NOW. END THIS!"

Around him, the servants of the Balor started converging on their wounded leader, black fire in their eyes. Marius stared back at them with eyes of burning green and, running in and killing three in a fluid spinning motion, gave them something to stare at.

 

[Andre Marek]

Marek declined the silver sword that was offered to him. He hadn't used a weapon besides his own bastard sword in almost two decades and he was now so familiar with the blade that he would not use any other, fearing that another blade would throw off his timing. As the others chose their weapons and Baroth gave a quick speech, Marek readied himself. He pulled down his hood so that it would not obstruct his view before rolling his neck and shoulders. Marek drew his weapon in a smooth motion and held the blade upright in front of himself with both hands wrapped around its extra long hilt.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the man in Dawnguard armor running with Hale and several others around the side of the village as per the plan. Baroth and, surprisingly an Orc, were standing beside him along with what was left of the guardsmen. The horde of demonic monsters and living corpses were by now at the end of the bridge.

To Mareks left, Baroth started the fight with a thrown dagger that struck a zombie squarely in the forehead, felling the creature. The Orc was swinging his sword and throwing well placed kicks at the oncoming demons as he made his way towards the gigantic balor at the rear of the monsters. He could see nothing of Hale and the others as they made their way to their ambush position but he assumed that they would complete their end of the job.

Marek rushed towards a demon that was brandishing a sword and blocked the creatures swing with the
cross-guard of his own before he spun around and executed a powerful back kick. The heal of his boot struck the beast in the center of its chest, causing several of its ribs to shatter and allowing Marek to behead the gasping thing with a quick backhanded stroke. Turning, he noticed a pair of daedra running towards him, mouths gaping and clawed hands outstretched in an attempt to ensnare him. Sliding to his right Marek grabbed the lead daedra by the arm and used its own momentum to send it sprawling into its companion. The pair of disgusting creatures fell in a tangle of arms and legs before feebly attempted to rise again. Before they had the chance to get up, Marek removed their heads as well.

Then he heard a cry come from Hale, "GRENVEL! LONG HAVE YOU HUNTED ME! TURN AND FIGHT ME, YOU RED-SKINNED SCUM! Fight me! FIGHT ME, damn you!" Marek turned to look briefly as the ranger along with the Dawnguard warriors, who were cloaked in a dazzlingly bright light, rushed onto the scene. Marek looked towards the towering Daedric lord that was now solely focused on the hooded ranger and thought it was probably the stupidest thing he had ever seen. "Crazy fool, I hope he knows what he's doing."



Marek returned his attention to what was left of the group of monsters. There were still several of them surrounding some of Baroths men, who were desperately trying to ward off blow after blow. Marek looked to the ominous lord once more and, figuring the others should be able to handle him, he turned and ran at the backs of the daedra surrounding the men.


Marek didn't bother with his sword against these creatures. They could feel pain just as well as any human so instead he simply shattered the knee of one of the demons with a straight push kick before he rammed the falling creatures face into his armored knee. The demon didn't even have time to scream as its head snapped back, breaking its neck and ending its existence. Without slowing Marek grabbed the upraised arm of another daedra that was about to finnish off one of Baroths men. With the palm of his hand, Marek broke its elbow, causing it to drop its sword and shriek with pain. Marek was ready as it turned around and simply drove his fist into its throat between the armor and crushed its windpipe. As the creature grasped at its now ruined throat Marek simply stared coldly at it as the life drained out of the red skinned devil. He then turned his attention to the other demons that, by now, had turned to face him.

 

[Hale Loneshadow]

The orc and this Marius man had done exactly the first two steps needed in defeating the balor; ambush and cripple it. Now, all that needed to be done was to finish the foul creature.

Hale yelled at one of Marius' men. "You! Toss me your silver dagger!" The soldier quickly complied, throwing a shining short blade at the Ranger. Catching it in his right hand, Hale slipped it into his belt, sheathing his sword as he did so. Drawing two of his newly-acquired silver arrows, Loneshadow jumped up onto the beast's spiny back, stabbing downwards with both hands. The silver tips burned and buried themselves into the balor's back, and even as the creature howled with agony that it had not felt ever before, the Ranger used the arrows as makeshift climbing tools, agilely scurrying his way up the devil's back.

As he reached the top of the towering creature, Hale wrapped his legs around Grenvel's thick red neck, and drew his silver dagger.

The balor howled, knowing that it was defeated, and desperately lashed out at anything and anyone nearby in mad fury. "GO BACK TO THE ABYSS!" yelled the infuriated Ranger, stabbing out and in at the balor's forehead, where its natural armor was the weakest in its whole, devilish body. The creature yelled and slashed for a few seconds, in its final death throes, before it fell down on the hard ground, dead before it could even strike any serious harm to Hale's allies. While it had managed to kill a few guards, the Orc chieftan's brave initial strike had focused the brunt of the balor's attacks on their little group, enabling them to kill it quickly.

Not stopping for any rest, Hale swiftly drew Sindar in conjunction with his silver dagger, taking on one of the dremora the devil lord had brought with it. The kynval's daedric mace spun in from the left side, and as Hale parried the blow with Sindar in his left hand, the Ranger brought up the dagger in his right, fluidly throwing it in a single motion. The dagger hit the dremora dead in its sternum, the silver and magic and altogether force of the close-range throw blasting it back to knock over three lesser zombies charging in behind it.

Running forward, the Ranger dove into a somersault, pulling his dagger from the now-dead dremora and stabbing each fallen zombie in the head in four quick motions as came out of the roll. The sounds of battle dimmed, the enemy close to slaughtered, Hale looked for his friends as the brutal fight began to come to a close.

 

[fellowknight]

Baroth Sliced down into the chest of a demon and flipped around, slicing another's head off. He saw the massive beast on the other side of the bridge, now wounded by the Chief and mercenary and being approached by hale, whom had bought the other two some time to strike. He then heard the signal from the chief, yelling that the beast was vulnerable.

Baroth now saw his chance as he scooped up his dagger from the fallen demon's forehead, ran as fast as he could, jumped off of a wounded demon, off the chest of another, went high in the air and threw it, into the monster's right eye. He landed and rolled to a halt, unsheathing his sword and throwing his shield at it's face. He then ran towards it, slicing deep into a demons chest, kicking another back, and beheading another. Then, when he was two feet from the beast, he threw his sword into it's shoulder, disarming himself. So, he found himself disarmed and in the middle of the demons as they slowly approached him, almost grinning at his vulnerability.

But he was NOT vulnerable, because he knew lots in the art of hand-to-hand. He kicked one right under the jaw then brought his foot down, hitting the back it right in the back of the head. Then he turned and back fisted a demon in the side of the face, bringing his fist back for a square punch to one's face. Then he kneed one in the stomach, then he turned around brought down his elbow as he knocked it to the ground. The others decided to change targets and wandered off. After fending off the foul spawns, he turned around and saw hale finishing off the beast, yelling it's defeat and searching for his comrades.

Baroth ran over to the fallen beast and ripped his dagger from it's eye and sword from shoulder. He turned to the small crowd that was left from hale's last attack, and threw his dagger into a demon's chest. Then he charged and rammed his sword into a demon's stomach, standing and facing a charging one, he dodged to the side as his sword sliced through it's shoulder. He turned on his heel and sliced into it's back as it stumbled forward a little before falling flat on it's face. He then turned and faced the remaining Demons as he watched them being slayed. He leaned against the side of the bridge and sighed as he felt a sudden sharp pain on his leg. He twisted his leg a little and saw a massive gash. He stared at it for a second, before he limped towards his comrades.