Private The Last Dragonborn

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Sometimes I speak too quickly, Altmer. Things were, a bit heated at the time. Thank you. For the hand," He waved his left hand in gesture. "I really do appreciate it."

 

[Zander Feredon]

(OOC; Posting for Seryn as requested.)

After many hours in the woods Seryn was losing hope. ''There isn't anyone around for at least 10 leagues.'' She said to herself. Continuing deeper into the forest she heard a slight rustling of leaves. Turning, all the while remaining hidden, she spotted the cause of the noise. 2 Vigilants of Stendarr had cornered a young necromancer, and were in the process of 'Exterminating' him. Notching her bow, she watched the scene unfold. The young man had reanimated the corpse of a fallen bandit and was attempting to flee as the Vigilants dealt with his little 'Distraction'.

A smile played across Seryn's face as the bandit was felled by one man's mace. They pursued the necromancer to a cliff, where they split off and cornered him from each side. The only direction the young man could go was back and off the face of the cliff, and much to Seryn's surprise, he did exactly that. ''Made our job much easier, but its growing dark and we should camp soon.'' said one of the Vigilants to his companion. After gathering sufficient resources the men began to build a camp. Seryn waited patiently in the shadows until the men fell asleep. Sneaking up on the first man while he slept, she snapped his neck with one swift and precise movement.

Looking around to make sure the other man wasn't alerted, she proceeded to his bedroll and took a dagger from his belt. ''Stendarr guide you.'' She said to herself, more as a joke than anything then proceed to smother him with his own Sabre cat skinned pillow. finding vines nearby, she tied the two men together by the ankles and wrapped the vines around herself in an X shape across the shoulders. ''Should be enough for Destrik to snack on for a bit.'' she said to herself smiling. Then she headed off toward the encampment she now called ''home''.

 

[heliumradio]

Exhaustion hit Anya suddenly, and for a moment, she thought she would lose consciousness, so she kept a hand on the wall until her head cleared. "It's fine, boy. And just so you know, I do know your name is Roggvar. I just like boy better," she said, rubbing her eyes. She sank to the floor, almost toppling onto her bedroll. "For the moment, I'm going to try to avoid dying in this cave." Her eyes were already closed, her words just a little slurred, and she knew she looked like a child curled up on the ground, but she didn't care. Even if Arngeir planned to force her awake for training, she wanted just a moment to rest.

 

[The Phantom]

Six Months Later

The Greybeards
The Greybeards had been training their apprentices for the past six months. Despite their indifferences and the constant sparring they are now finally proficient with the Thu'um. Although proficient may be too strong a word; they all knew the base shout "Unrelenting Force" and another of which they were taught individually by Arngeir to which he thought suited them best, but they had never used them against a real foe. So in theory they should be able to hold their own against the Dragonborn's lackeys.

Many would argue that this rag-tag team of disorganised misfits would be no match for the Blades. The Blades were considered the best fighting force Tamriel had ever seen. They had strength, discipline, organisation, the Thu'um and the Last Dragonborn commanding them. So what could this militia possibly do to the Blades? It was in fact their very weaknesses that gave them their advantage! The Blades were trained to counter all known fighting styles and types of armies.

So what if they weren't fighting a specific style?

Or multiple at once?

Each of the Greybeards apprentices were unique in their strengths, weaknesses and styles. Remy had intelligence and cunning coupled with Dwarven machinery. Roggvar had immense skill with a bow, dagger and is rather confident, easily underestimated. Anaya's lust for power, selfishness and temper makes her a force to be reckoned with, rage is a hell of an anaesthetic. Virk is sensitive and skilled, a deadly duo, you can do little when those normally quiet are no longer so. Humbungala, the powerful mage is a great boon to the group as he counters their lack of proper magic, however is he to stay on their side much longer?
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The Blades

Meanwhile Destrik and Seryn had successfully returned to Sky Haven Temple. Malitiasicarius was intrigued by the information of this militia the Greybeards were forming but even more so by the new arrival. The Dragonborn at first questioned the reasoning of kidnapping the Nightingale (Something he noticed as well was the fact that she was a Nightingale) but the girl seemed to be acclimatising well to the Blades. He thought it strange that Seryn so willingly joined him even after she was part of a group dedicated to killing him, though even if it was for less than a day. This caused the Last Dragonborn to distrust her to some degree.

Destrik was praised and rewarded appropriately for his duty and the information, although was scolded for his recklessness with bringing Seryn with him. After hearing the full story Destrik was forgiven and his master became rather concerned that this group of amateurs defeated one of his best agents, even if they did have a Greybeard with them.

Over the course of the past six months they had both earned the Dragonborn's personal attention. Destrik was soon promoted to his second-in-command and he found use for Seryn as one of his personal assassins. Destrik was assigned to teach Seryn the discipline and ways of the Blades as Malitiasicarius taught her the Thu'um, again in the way the Greybeards taught their apprentices. Although the other shout she was taught was far more brutal than the Greybeards would dare teach their apprentices.
________________________________________________________________________________________________

Malitiasicarius was planning to meet the Greybeards trainees. He was also planning his boldest move yet, he planned to invade the capital of the Reach. Markarth. Perhaps if the Imperial's still had control over the city he may have thought twice but recently the Forsworn had taken over the city. They stood little of a chance against the Blades. There were three reasons he was planning this:

The first reason was that he needed to establish a proper footing in Skyrim. He may hold a portion of the Reach from Sky Haven but what would ensure his dominace was an entire hold. From Markarth he could start his Empire, leaving one of his men to govern it. Destrik maybe?

The Second was to test the loyalty of Seryn, there is little knowledge that escapes Malitiasicarius and he knew all to well her background. They were taking this city from the Forsworn and he expected her to kill them with no hesitation. Seryn's ultimate test will be to execute the leader of the Forsworn in Markarth. If she couldn't then she would be tossed aside like any other.

Finally the third reason; he was curious about the Greybeards' apprentices and was eager to meet and test them. So the Dragonborn released some discreet rumours that "A small amount of Blades were going to launch a raid on the city of Markarth" which eventually found it's way to Arngeir. Arngeir sent the group to Markarth to stop the Blades there. Little did they know a full army was there awaiting them, led by Malitiasicarius himself with Destrik and Seryn at his side.

The Blades had their orders. Once the city was captured and the Forsworn defeated. They were to capture the apprentices and bring them to the Keep. Malitiasicarius was to give them a choice: Fall in line or be crushed under his heel. None are going to stand in his way.

 

[Snoball]

In a world that was rapidly changing faster than one could grasp, so too did the odd group of trainees. The six months had allowed the group to work more cohesively as a unit as opposed to the one on one bouts they were exposed to earlier on. Each member was armed with Relentless Force and a personal shout tailor-made to coincide with their strengths. What had happened to Seryn and Destrik was a blur, but it was a wrong the group was determined to make right with their newly obtained abilities. Along with these new skills came improvements in attitude as well. A different Remy had emerged from the vigorous training the following months, one who wouldn't let a simple mistake cloud his thinking process.

"Alright, just a few more adjustments to your base struts, a quick tune-up to the ole' cerbral gyro, and you'll be good to go, friend." Remy caught a few hours of sleep the night before, excited over finishing a project he had his sights set on since day one. With this new air of confidence in himself, Remy was able to take time to also construct smaller projects that would help in the imminent battle against the Dragonborn. He just finished the final stages of an eight-legged friend he called "B.E.T.A.". "And voila! Welcome to Nirn little fella. Or rather... a cave on Nirn." The automated spider observed its surroundings, taking in all the information it could. Though many people in the past felt Remy was mad for talking to hunks of metal, the Breton saw it as giving life to objects unfortunate enough to not have it from the start. He performed simple tests to make sure Beta was fully operational. With everything checking out accordingly, Remy opened up to his journal to record the milestone.

"To think, the project we worked tirelessly on is up and moving on his own. Beta's sitting here with me now, living proof that when you're surrounded by the right kind of people, not a problem in the world could halt your creativity. The battle is daunting and closing near. But so are we."

"~699 Days"

Closing the journal, Remy looked back to see Beta was no longer there, and had made his way out of the room and into the cave's center. "Beta! ....Friends!" Remy didn't want the others to awake on his account, luckily it appeared no one was present at the moment.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

Roggvar heard Remy's voice, and arose from his bedroll. It was early in the morning, earlier than he would like to awaken, but later than he often needed to. As he sauntered over to the central area of the cave, a small, shining object came into view. On closer inspection, it was shaped like a bug, with long bronze legs. Although Roggvar's face stood absolute and unfazed, he was astounded. This must be something of Remy's... how impressive. It moved like a living being, yet it was made of metal. "Beta! ....Friends!" As Remy scrambled after the spider, they made eye contact, and the ranger nodded reassuringly, with a broad smirk on his face. Remy had proven to be more than adept at mastering the Thu'um, catching onto its patterns and energies much faster than Roggvar. I knew that he would be important. There seems to be more and more to learn about him every day we spend together.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Vampires... Why vampires? The dragonborn himself, the legend of the man, could clone himself to three powerful versions of the dovahkiin, and Virk would have his shivs ready for combat, fearless. But it had to be a vampire! He couldn't forgive himself about what happened to Seryn. He not only pierced his shiv through HER instead of the undead, but also let him snatch her between the group's fingers. Sure she wasn't the nicest, most teamworking member, but if he had lost anyone to the vampire, it was a defeat up to Virk. He was willing to even learn enchanting to make his shivs simmering enough to melt at touch, just specially for the undead. But it was too much for him.

BETA was, or appeared to be, a friendly robotic spider. It was scanning with it's small, skeever-like claws always moving up and down. Virk sat down amused by the small automaton. "Virk has talked to rats, netch, elk and even mudcrab, but never anything like Remy's pet!" He kneeled and stretched his hand to the small metallic spider in curiosity, and it placed the golden claw on top of his palm. A cold touch, even for someone who had gloves, but somehow, warm. After he got up again, he let the spider scan everyone else so it wouldn't mistake friend with foe in the heat of the battle.

 

[Humbungala]

Irelius sat on his bedroll cross legged, playing with a ball of fire in his hands. It's amazing to think that I went from a rather insignificant magic teacher in winterhold to one of the people meant to kill the dragon born. Irelius whirled the fire between his fingers and around his hands. He placed the fire ball in the palm of his hands and clapped, making it disappear. He heard a weird scurrying outside of the room along with Virk's voice that mentioned a pet of Remy's. Irelius stood up and stretched before he left his room to join the others. He saw a small dwarven spider looking thing that Remy had built. Irelius smiled, "I've never seen anything like it." He turned his eyes to Remy, "Nor have I ever heard of a person living now building a dwarven machine. You're quite the remarkable man, Remy." Irelius took a few steps towards the machine and sat down, looking at the machine in awe. "What's the plan today, do you guys know?"

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

" I'd imagine the usual training. Although I honestly don't know. Arngeir isn't very vocal about things like this." Roggvar assumed his regular position, comfortably leaning on the wall with one foot, twirling his Orcish dagger between his fingers. His left hand had healed greatly since it was broken in the fight with Destrik, but it was still difficult and slightly painful to move his wrist, or the fingers in that hand. Instead, he had taken up the sword, practicing to use it with one hand. He was still a better shot than a fighter, and his bow felt like an extension of himself, but he had become proficient without it.

 

[Zander Feredon]

''Focus Darling'' Destrik said to Seryn. ''Necromancy is not an easy skill to master, you need to regulate your magicka.'' Up until now Destrik had taught her how to raise corpses to fight for her. The duration they lived was usually a short time but she had mastered the ability to raise the dead. He was now trying to teach her how to regulate the flow of magicka in her body to sustain multiple Thralls. ''You, Come over here.'' He said to one of the Blades standing in the training area. ''Yes Commander Destrik?'' The soldier said as he approached.

In one swift movement Destrik lifted him from his feet and slammed him head first into the cobblestone floor where his neck snapped with a sickening crunch. Turning to look at Seryn Destrik said. ''Raise his body,along with the one you have been practicing with. Try to regulate your breathing,and focus on the flow of magicka from your body.'' Turning to look up at the balcony Destrik continued speaking. ''Lord Malitiasicarius is watching and we do not want to disappoint him. ''

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Focus...Seryn...focus...Seryn closed her eyes and tried to do as Destrik instructed. She slowed her breathing and focused entirely on her magicka. The small tingling began from her shoulders to her fingertips and her eyes opened as she raised the two dead bodies. The thralls moaned and just stood there, awaiting orders. Seryn looked at Destrik and smirked, "Done and done". She walked to her thralls and circled them, looking over each one and gave Destrik a thumbs up. Everything was intact which was great, since the last time she tried the thrall had lost both of his legs. Seryn looked up towards the balcony and nodded respectively towards her new leader.

 

[heliumradio]

Anya awoke early but stayed on her bedroll, thinking about various things and taking inventory of herself for the day. No major injuries, the ability to use her voice as a weapon, and a relative friendship with the other people in the cave made for easy mornings.

She heard Remy say something followed by the sound of clinking metal, and a small machine ran up to Virk. He shook its hand, and Anya smirked, because of course Virk would shake hands with a metallic spider. She got up and moved next to Roggvar, stretching her arms.

"What's the plan today, do you guys know?"

" I'd imagine the usual training. Although I honestly don't know. Arngeir isn't very vocal about things like this."

"How much more training could help? Perhaps we should try fighting living things." She glanced toward the cave entrance, always half expecting the Nightingale to swagger through, perhaps undead. She'd never expressed this thought for Roggvar's sake, but she had it often. If the girl lived, she was likely not their ally any longer, one way or another. Anya realized, of course, that her distrust for elves and Forsworn tended to cloud her judgement in this area, but she'd been proven right many times before.

"How is your hand today, boy?" Anya said. She asked him every so often, but not to often that he would mistake it for affection. She cared as a friend, perhaps, but nothing more. She made a point not to become too friendly with those she fought alongside in case they should die.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"It's... alright," Roggvar held it up in presentation, twisting the bruised and healing joint to and fro. He winced slightly as the pain bolted up his arm and into the back of his neck. "It's still virtually impossible for me to draw a bow like mine, although I imagine a slighter bow with less draw weight might be manageable at this point." Roggvar was comforted by the Elf's regard as she sat by him, her arm brushing against his own slightly, ruffling his sleeve. He reached to his neck and felt the worn, wooden Stendarr amulet around his neck.

The leather cord that once held it to him was now replaced by an iron chain, holding it fast to his chest. The gentle curves of the horn felt warm and familiar in his hands. As his life went by, Roggvar had grown older. His once smooth face now bristled with stubbly hairs. His clothes, once a simple tunic, had been outgrown and discarded, replaced with pads and plates that were as hard as he had slowly become, the muscles in his shoulders and arms growing from work and battle. If there was one constant in Roggvar's life, it was this necklace. Ever tethered to him, it had never left his neck. Until Destrick tore it from him in the battle. His eyes instinctively narrowed when he thought of the evil creature. With a small shake of the head, Roggvar banished the thought and turned to Anya, paying attention to the High Elf as she spoke.

 

[Zander Feredon]

Smiling at Seryn Destrik banished the thralls. ''Enough practice for now, shall we grab a bite?'' He asked.
Taking Seryn by the arm, he guided her to the dining hall and called over one of the attending cooks. ''You, get over here.'' He said in a rather gruff tone. ''Bring something for her to dine on.'' He said motioning toward Seryn.
While the man was off preparing Seryn's food Destrik found his mind wandering. That day in the cave, how he should have finished the pesky little ranger. He glanced over at Seryn mainly inspecting her shoulder. He regretted not killing the coward who had caused her such pain, and he vowed to end him once he had the chance.

''Here you are sir.'' Said the cook as he placed a large Venison roast in front of Seryn. ''Very good.'' Said Destrik, smiling slightly. He leapt over the table and pinned the man to the floor. ''I do believe ill be taking my meal fairly rare.'' He said as he sank his teeth into the cook. After he had finished his meal he looked to the front of the dining hall and noticed the throne was empty. Turning to Seryn he spoke. ''I wonder where Lord Malitiasicarius is, he usually attends our evening meal.''

 

[Snoball]

With everyone eventually making their way to the cave's center, Remy was delighted to see Beta's friendliness toward his designated allies. He smiled and blushed a bit at the positivity it was generating from his friends, but was happier that he could do his part for the team. He knew full well his partners would be the ones bringing the offense to the Dragonborn, so supporting them in any way was the Breton's central priority.

He sat down with them as they discussed today's agenda. After observing everyone and the cave itself, Beta scratched against Remy's leg as if wanting to be picked up. He placed the spider on his lap, opening up a port on its side to check for collected data.

"What's the plan today, do you guys know?"

"I'd imagine the usual training. Although I honestly don't know. Arngeir isn't very vocal about things like this."

"How much more training could help? Perhaps we should try fighting living things."

After allowing Anya to ask about Roggvar's arm, Remy looked up to respond to her suggestion. "Perhaps I could be of use in the training department. It's up to all of you whether they would qualify as 'living', but I'd be happy to develop constructs to serve as your pseudo opponents. We would of course have to train outdoors to avoid a mass flux of steam clouding the cave."

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Speaking of which," Roggvar addressed Remy. "You wanna practice a little?" Roggvar picked up his wooden practice sword and waved it in the air to notify Remy what he was speaking of.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk shook his head to himself after some time fighting with his own ideas. "Wait!" He spoke in a very serious tone, freezingly serious for a madman who juggled for coin."Virk has a request for Remy. If Remy does it, from little Virk has to offer, he will risk his life for Remy's." His tone kept stone cold as he was about to touch a dangerous issue. "In all of Tamriel, no creature poses as much of a fright to Virk than vampires." It was as simple as a trauma, haunting him from his very childhood. His mother's teeth showing while she smiled at him, killed his courage slowly. "But vampires feel fright too! Fire will drive them away as well as the sun. So Virk needs..." Virk had no idea of how to describe it. "In Dwemer Ruins, Virk once found a tip of dwemer metal, that could spit fire... It would be very useful if Virk had one... instead of one of his fingers. No matter the price, Virk is willing to cut one off if needed. Everything... but ever feeling afraid of vampires again, without them knowing Virk wants them to burn!" His eyes shined more now, as if the commotion of his death-to-vampires speech had reached himself. "If Remy could do that, Virk couldn't thank him enough..."

 

[Snoball]

"You wanna practice a little?"

"I... M..Me?" Remy had realized that he never trained with Roggvar before even after all the time that had passed. The offer took him off-guard. "A B-bit sudden there, chap." He cleared his throat, cancelling out the stutter in his voice. "Where was I? Oh yes. You'd find my constructs would likely put up a better bout, but this does give me an opportunity to test run Beta." It was obvious Roggvar wanted to test the man's abilities as well his own. Remy didn't object, and would probably hold out a bit longer then he had in the group's first training session all those months ago.

Speaking of that day, Virk, Remy's first sparring partner, had made a proposition that intrigued him. "Wait... wait. Your finger? That's mad! Incredibly creative, might I add. Still quite mad though! To design a muzzle complex enough to amplify the flames and be effective against live targets while still being smaller than the length of a finger? Riveting!" Remy stopped suddenly to realize JUST what Virk had been asking of him. "To openly mutilate someone for the sake of my own design? I... I..." He looked back at Virk, making up his mind. "I'll tell you what friend. I'll see what I can do given my available resources. As for you, take that time to consider whether or not you would really want to go through with this." He paid him a re-assuring smile, completely forgetting that he was just about to practice with Roggvar.

"Oh! Excuse the delay, friend. When you're ready to contend, then so am I." He grabbed his staff and picked up Beta. The spider bonded to Remy's metallic hand, as it was intended to. He set the staff to a light sting to avoid any real damage, and pointed it at his sparring partner, for perhaps the last time before they were ready to take on the Dragonborn.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"You've proven yourself quite handy with that staff, but perhaps I could show you a few techniques with the sword?" Although Roggvar had immense faith in Remy's abilities, he was fearful that in close combat, the Breton would be overpowered. Roggvar had not only learned a good amount of swordplay since his encounter with Destrick, but had also adapted a technique of using both the body and the sword in junction. The ranger, already being proficient in hand-to-hand combat, found that using the sword as an extension of one's arm was a useful technique towards defeating heavier, stronger opponents. "Virk!" Roggvar had spoken little to the kind man during their time in the cave, but saw an opportunity to know him better. "Want to come outside for a little practice with me and Remy?" Roggvar retrieved two more of the branches he had whittled and cut into crude swords and used them to motion to the cave's entrance.

 

[Artemis Shadows]

After finishing a small bit of her meal Seryn made a disgusted face, "You should learn to make less of a mess, darling, it's quite disgusting". Seryn looked at the small pool of blood that had formed under Destrik's victim and then turned her attention to the throne. Her arms crossed, "He's probably planning. That's all I think he ever does, plan and act. Plan and act. It's quite admirable really". The man had power and he certainly knew how to use it. That much was undeniable. Yet of course her defiant nature had ways of slipping through and she often found herself wondering, rethinking, and of course...criticizing. But Seryn knew how to keep her mouth shut...lest she wanted her head to roll across the outside courtyard.