» Sat Nov 13, 2010 10:45 pm Senes Varvun marched across the marshy battlefield near the border of Morrowind and Black Marsh, ignoring the battles raging all around him between the Argonians and his own troops. His army of freedom fighters, though admittedly much smaller than Senes would've preferred, consisted of soldiers that were better-trained, had more experience, and were more loyal to their cause thatn any Argonian, and that enabled them to hold their own against the Argonians. Senes smiled as he watched his troops moving foward, with no fear, completely willing to give their lives in order to secure their homeland's freedom. The Argonians were being slaughtered by his troops.
This is the first of many battles, thought Senes as he continued marching foward. The first of many victories. He walked with determination toward the edge of the battlefield, where his scouts had informed him the Argonian commander was waiting. Senes knew he had to kill this commander, and so walked with confidence, apparently unaffected by the battle raging around him. But then a young Argonain broke away from the chaos of battle and charged Senes with a leveled spear.
Senes frowned and easily sidestepped the overeager youngster's clumsy thrust. Without a second thought, Senes swiped his shield hard through the air towards the young Argonian's head. Despite the young warrioor attempting to dedge the blow, he wasn't quick enough. Senes's shield collided with the side of the Argonian's head, and spilt blood and brains onto the muddy soil. Senes smiled savagely and, hearing quick footsteps behind him, picked up the Argonian's spear, turned it around, and thrust it directly behind him. Sure enough, he heard a throaty gasp that could only belong to an Argonian. Pulling the spear out of the Argonian and tossing it aside, Senes resumed his determined walk to the commander. As he walked past the Argonian corpses, he muttered, "Amateurs."
As he marched, more and more Dunmer soldiers caught up to him, nodding and saluting him as they passed by, rushing ahead in order to clear the way for Senes to reach the Commander. He nodded back to each of them as the passed to engage the Argonians guarding the path to their base on a small hill. Completely occupied by his troops, no more Argonians engaged Senes as he continued his resolute walk to his enemy. Senes began taking deep, calming breaths as he walked up the hill and up in front of the commander's tent. He took one last deep breath before he reached for his weapon.
Senes drew his ebony sword from its sheath, and the sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air. It echoed loudly, overpowering the now seemingly distant sounds of battle, serving as a clear warning that he, the mighty Senes Varvun, was here, and that meant that someone was going to die. Senes's face contorted into a snarl as he looked at the tent's door, and he screamed, "Argonian! Stop cowering in your tent! Come out and face me, man-to-man!" His voice began to take on a mocking tone. "Or is the so-called 'Slays-His-Foes' just a spineless coward?!" Senes began to pace back and forth, seeming very much like a wolf waiting for its trapped prey to come out and meet its death.
And then the prey approached, exiting his hole. The Argonian commander, known as Slays-His-Foes, possessed murky green scales the same color as the swamp waters so near to where they were now. His fins were pierced with rings of gold, his teeth were immaculately shined, and his claws meticulously groomed. His torso and arms were adorned with ornate black and green armor, and in his hands he carried a heavy ebony spear which, Senes realized with a flash of anger, was the same kind that his former Order used to use. Slays-His-Foes looked at Senes for several moments, eyes lingering on his scarred armor, and the scars that marred Senes's face. But then, after about a minute had passed, he spoke. "I was wondering when you would appear before me, Varvun. My scouts told me that it was you who led this attack, and so I figured it was only a matter of time before you came for me."
Slays-His-Foes sighed as an attendent approached him and handed him his helm. The attendant cast several nervous glances at Senes before Slays-His-Foes dismissed him, and he scurried off in the opposite direction. Slays-His-Foes started to put on his helm, but paused, and looked at Senes with a look of apparent sadness. "I ask one thing of you," he said, trying sound as dignified as possible. "I ask that we make a pact, that the winner of our battle allow the loser to be properly buried and mourned."
Senes put on his own helm, which shielded his face from the gaze of the piercing, sad eyes of the Argonain commander. His own eyes, now hidden from Slays-His-Foes, stared at his foe with an intensity that could melt ebony. "There are no pacts between men and animals," he growled, pointing his sword at the Argonian. "I warn you, Argonian, you won't have eyes tonight, nor a brain, nor a tongue, nor legs. I swear to you, tonight you will walk the afterlife blind, mute, dumb and crippled, and all with laugh at the fool who thought he could withstand the wrath of Senes Varvun."
Slays-His-Foes's eyes showed even more sadness as he put on his own helm. He knew that he couldn't conquer Senes, but he also knew that it was his duty to try, just as it was Senes's duty to succeed. He took a deep breath and readied himself for the battle; readied himself to die. He raised his spear, and Senes began to approach the Argonain, first at a slow walk, and then a jog. Slays-His-Foes took two steps foward, took another breath, and thrust his spear at the approaching Senes.
Senes blocked the spear with his shield and tried to flank the Argonian, but Slays-His-Foes swept his spear through the air in an attempt to keep Senes at bay. Senes changed direction, luring Slays-His-Foes into a downward stab, which Senes dodged, then caught under his foor. Senes wrenched the spear out of the Argonians grasp, and tried to follow up with a dead slash. But Slays-His-Foes jumped back and drew his back up weapon, a steel short sword. He charged Senes, and attacked viciously, sending a powerful slash at Senes's neck.
However, Senes caught the attack on his shield, and followed up with a powerful shield slash aimed at Slays-His-Foes's head. The hit connected, but the Argonian commander's helm kept it from becoming a killing blow. But he was stunned, and Senes took advantage, again bashing Slays-His-Foes with his shield. This hit sent the commander to the ground, causing him to drop his sword and for his helmet to fly off his head. Slays-His-Foes laid there in pain, unable to get up and continue fighting, and so Senes slowly walked over to the downed Argonian and knelt next to him. He pressed his sword against his neck, and whispered, "Prepare to die, Argonian."
Slays-His-Foes didn't respond, only looked up at Senes with those sad, emotional eyes. However, he found only the seemingly empty sockets of Senes's helm, which hid the uncaring gaze of a broken Dunmer. Senes looked at the Argonian as he slit his throat, and got back to his feet. He looked one more time at the dead commander, then turned away, breathing harder than normal. His lieutenant, Ramos Felan, walked up to him. Ramos was also out of breath from the battle, but was unharmed. He looked at the dead Argonian lying at Senes's feet briefly before he saluted. "Commander. The battle is won. Most of the Argonians are dead, and the rest are fleeing. I guess it has something to do with that," he said, gesturing to Slays-His-Foes, now slain himself.
Senes took off his helmet and replaced his sword in its sheath. "Good," he said, gesturing for Ramos to walk with him. "Send someone to go bring that body back to camp, and tell the troops I say well done. Tonight is a night for celebrating." They stepped over various corpses as they walked. Most of them were Argonians, but their were some of his own lying in the mud as well. However, he decided that the dead could wait a night. Tonight is a night for revelry, not mourning, Senes thought as Ramos paused to give orders to a few recruits. He waited for a moment for Ramos to rejoin him, and the pair of Dunmer returned to their camp, tired but happy with the knowledge that they had reclaimed one little patch of their home.
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And, yes, Troy did provide inspiration for the fight between Senes and Slays-His-Foes.
