Author's Note: First Fanfiction I've done in a while. I've never got to far into one, but hopefully that changes here. It is set at the beginning of the ImmortalBlood Timeline, just after the events of TES4: Oblivion. The Altmer of Summerset declare independence of the Empire, led by The Beautiful. Hope you enjoy it.

Map: http://www.imperial-library.info/sites/default/files/gallery_files/cyrodiillargelowrescr7.jpg

Defiance

Chapter 1: Darkest Depths

4E 1, 24th of First Seed: 23:00; North of Sunhold, Summerset Isle

Shadows poured from the thick night. Mist dripped its way through the Colovian’s nostrils as he panted for every breath, taking the last recessions of oxygen from that of the vaporous night. Cries were heard amply in every last direction, followed by the soft sounds of weapons scraping their way across the deep trench. The shifting feet of the legionnaries were disguised well into the darkness, only to be discovered by the fire which rained towards them. The soil of the Summerset isles flew backward into the men, a hurricane of dirt and silt finding its way into the armor of the legion soldiers.

Curly black hair fell perfectly with the dusk; the man’s piercing eyes looked upon their foe in desperation and fear, his finger held tightly to that of a crossbow. Sweat dripped past his curved nose, falling down his stocky frame and onto the muddy dirt beneath him. The clicking of triggers echoed through the trench, seething their way through the now lit night.


The Colovian took a small glimpse over towards the man beside him, a being of tall complexion and deep, compelling eyes. Iris’s of bright brown answered back, shining from the blaze before him. His gaze was interrupted by the scream of hurtling fire, eating its way into the dark ditch. The man called Silus moaned in pain; fierce, gritted teeth sounding into the night.


His eyes looked upon the scorched landscape, the sunken and barren no man’s land that lay between himself and the enemy ahead. His vision stopped, halted by the sight of an elevated, vigorous wooden wall fifty yards away, impaled in abundance with legion bolts. Any man or mer that should cross from his own hilled fortification and into the trap before him would face certain death at the hands of combat, the fierce missiles of the waning Empire and newly born Aldmeri Dominion.

The land was cratered with all types of holes around them, its perimeter shrouded by dark mountains on both sides. His pupils begin to augment, as fire fell from the walls.

More of the howling flames approached them, plowing their way into the clay which held in front of the men. The Nord looked back in desperation, his booming voice echoing through the night.


The man’s roar was cut short as fire began to rain from the skies. Many of the legionaries began to fall, some turning back, routed. Others held their ground, staggering in the midst of the flames. Legion armor fell to the floor of the trench, clanging its way onto the muddy dirt. Silus’s eyes glared upward into the darkness. A massive ship flew through the sky, raining fiery death upon every man that opposed it.
Blaze stretched through the landscape, dilating the craters. The men sunk downward as the flaming storm engulfed their ranks, hardening the wet, damp trench supporting the soldiers. The blazing rain reminded him much of the past, his own compunction forming illusions of daedra materializing from the flames. Flashes flew with uncertainty as more waves of amber came from above, striking towards the legion.
He began to close his eyes, his very soul daring to drift into death. His body ached in pain, dampened in the very sweat which aimed to cool him. Such was the chaos that one could not tell who still possessed a life, and who’s corpse had fallen to a shallow death in the depths of a trench.

The fire began to fade, wiping the smoke from his vision. The clear night’s sky emerged before him as the clouded dust disappeared into the darkness. Silus shook coldly as a hand pulled at his, lifting him from the base of the trench. The panting of breath echoed through the night, as the Imperial slipped his way onto his feet. Blood now ran down the side of his left arm, pouring heavily into the hole before him. A grim expression scratched its way through the vapor, the tired voice of a veteran peeling its way through the void.


For every man that arose from the bodies, another one lay dead at the darkest depths. For three of every fallen man, another had broke loose into chaos, finding himself on the retreat. The soldier’s mind drifted into the dense air before him as his eyes widened, looking down upon the limp corpses of his brothers.

Maximus’s dim, dark blue eyes gazed back towards Silus, his own dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. The man’s frame was much smaller than that of his captain’s, but his exhaustion was just the same. The silence continued to befall the night until monstrous screams began to reach their way through the distance.

Silus contemplated their now broken firearms. Few still held their crossbows. The high pitched, feral echoes of beasts could be heard from afar as Silus gaped upon the hills below them. Maximus’s gaze was now austere as his squinted eyes followed into the darkness, blood dripping from his lips.


The Imperial’s very eyes expanded, as the massive green wave opened up across the broken terrain. Silus drew his gladius as the moss colored current grew closer, but never less massive. It grew in numbers by the second, as multitudinous amounts came from the walls. They filled the land as a rushing flood, their cries and torches alike now penetrating through the darkness.

There must be thousands…

Silus turned back in solicitude, scanning the facet of those nearby. Maximus’ own semblance was fear upon the deadly charge that approached. A cry, far too chaotic to fathom, rang from another allotment of their entrenchment as many were routed, making haste from the trench towards the abaft land. The Colovian let out a yell, grabbing his adherent by the arm. A rush of adrenaline befell him, as his aching muscles sprung from the earth.

The two men rose from the trench, falling into the scattered abundance of soldiers who ran backward towards the rocky hills. Silus continued forward, Maximus at his side, as even the foremost of the legion, stricken in fear, rushed towards the fort in the distance, their last fortification.

Many continued to drive onward. The Anvil native looked back, the mass of beasts ever so visible. Some infantry had grown too worn to continue, their cramping bodies exhausting into the hungry abyss. The duo continued to press onward for minutes, their helmets dampened from the sweat which drained through their heads.

More fire rained from the skies. The hurricane of flames had returned, blazing its way into the barren land beneath the soldiers. Men were hit in abundance, casualties numerous among the company. The Colovian pointed into the shadows of a dim forest, stretching his arm towards the closest advocate of shelter upon the barren land.

The blaze continued to pour as the men found their way beneath the trees, still running further into the shadows of the mountainous hills. The goblins followed suit, lacerating those men who had not made it. Their fierce fangs bore open, clubs in hand, as the green mass continued to sweep the badlands. Silus would not stop until he had reached asylum. He had to make it out alive.

It's a shame there is no 'like' button on these sites, because this has most certainly earned one. Very nicely written.