» Fri Nov 27, 2009 10:00 am Mortal Life of Vivec Book 6
"By the grace of Boethiah! I have never been so happy to see another mer in all my life!" Lord Voryn Dagoth exclaimed as he embraced Nerevar. "They nearly had us beaten back to Khogorun before you showed up! How did you manage to defeat Barfok so suddenly, last I head you're army was two steps from joining it's ancestors."
Nerevar smiled and laughed. "My young Vehk here proved invaluable. Tell my friend Dagoth Ur how Barfok, Maid of the Plains was defeated." Many of Nerevar's army bawled in amusemant.
Vehk waved them off. "It was all in the hips," he replied with a smile. Everyone in Nerevar's camp nearly fell to the ground in a fit of laughter.
"Sometimes the spear is mightier than the sword, eh young Vehk?" Alandro exclaimed. More laughter.
Dagoth Ur smiled, but didn't get the joke. "I don't follow," he said, amused simply by their amusemant.
"Sotha Sil and I were sure we faced a foe more clever and devious than had ever strutted upon Tamriel. No matter how air-tight and clever our minds in developing strategy, Barfok effortlessly bested us, without seeming to even try. But she did not manage it with her mind or her wits, only her divinely blessed purity." Nerevar explained.
"Simly put," Sotha Sil chimed in, which was something quite uncharacteristic of him, "The Maid of the Plains is a maiden no more. Courtesy our esteemed Vehk."
"Sotha Sil did more than he lets on." Vehk added. "It was his teleportation spell that allowed me access to her heavily guarded tent. And his bottle of bug musk lent me access to other areas!" More laughter from the crowd.
"You give me too much credit," Sotha Sil repilied. "Bug Musk is a House Telvanni creation, not a House Sotha item. And it cannot force the unwilling. It only allows them to yield more easily to their own desires. If she did not want you, you would not have had her. Though I have to admit, teleportation to a locale not already marked was a? difficult challenge. And a draining one. I would not like to attempt it again any time soon."
"Still think it was an accident," Alandro said with a smile, "you just set it all up cause you wanted a piece of her!"
Vehk shrugged. "Jealous. Who didn't? Honestly, it was your statement that gave me the clue. You said it was the gods, and I could not help but thinking 'what could this female warrior have that was so divine?' Considering her rauaging beauty, the conclusion was rather simple. I simply took away her one divine item. And unfortunately, it's one item that can never be given back once taken."
"You're lucky she didn't skewer you on sight." Nerevar said.
Vehk took a breath. "It was strange really. She was like an uncontrolled beast. I think the guards on her tent were more to protect the men from her base desires than to protect her from the men. She was very? enthusiastic. I'm not even certain the bug musk was necessary; though I am glad I had it. Would hate to have found out otherwise."
Dagoth Ur laughed. "And what became of Barfok's army?"
Nerevar replied, "We beat them back to the Sea of Ghosts. What few remain are even now sailing back to their icy homes, including the beautiful and still deadly Barfok. She was a powerful warrior, deadly indeed, but without her divine purity, turned out to be a terrible tactician. We arrived so quickly because there were but a few of them, and they had to leave many of their boats behind, which we seized in time to prevent them from torching. So we managed to avoid land scouts by taking the sea straight down from the north, slamming on top of Hoag mer-killer and his undead minions, even as you valiantly battled him. Still, he proved a tricky sort! And here in the end it were your tactics that proved his undoing!"
Dagoth Ur nodded. "But I could not have implemented them without your overwhelming force taking the fangs from off my neck for a moment. You have my undying gratitude."
"Two armies down!" Nerevar cried out! "And two of our armies freed up to bolster the rest! We WILL win this war!" The crowds assembled shouted in a roar.
Traveling west from the north, Dagoth and Nerevar's armies, under Nerevar's command, came to the aid of Dumac, who had already turned the tide against Chemua, the clever Nord. Chemua, besieged on two fronts, sent a courier to Nerevar, asking Nerevar to send a representative with terms of surrender. When Nerevar's representative, a hero who had served with distinction, Dres Khizumet-e, returned, Dres Khizumet-e tried to slay Nerevar with an enchanted dagger. Nerevar knocked aside the dagger effortlessly and restrained the would-be assassin. Sotha Sil discovered that Dres Khizumet-e was ensorcelled and attempted to undo the binding spell, but its grip on the representative was too powerful and, in the end, lethal.
I will not describe the fate of Chemua the clever Nord, some things are simply better left unsaid? except to say that when he died he died hungry, though hunger was not the cause of his death.
Turning south, the now three army strong force swept away the still stalemated Bahg, whose seemingly small force were unknowingly aided by night by raiding parties of were-wolves against the larger army of Almalexia and her general, Indoril-Triffith. Bahg fled. Almalexia, would not let them go peacefully, and vowed to kill them to the last man.
Only a few, those who could turn shape in the nightfall and sprint inhumanly fast, managed to escape. But Bahg had been killed by his own were-troops, and left behind in the hopes that it would appease the relentless Almalexia. It was enough, surprisingly, for her to see her dead counterpart lying before her feet. Once that was done, she wasted no time tending to the sick and injured, leaving the details of running the army from that point to General Indoril Triffith.
The four armies were defeated.
It was a glorious time. It was a time of relief and happiness, a time of new friendships and trust. Houses with Ashlanders, Chimer with Dwemer. All mer on Resdayn side by side and unified, if not as friends then at least? as comrades.
Nerevar and Dumac discussed the future of Resdayn in Dumac's war-tent, talking business while the rest celebrated.
Vehk was sipping some mead, a spoil of the war, when Sotha Sil came and sat beside him. Sotha Sil said nothing, he simply smiled and produced his own bottle of mead from out of thin air. Vehk laughed, until he noticed that it was his bottle the magician had usurped. Sotha then produced a second bottle and gave the original to Vehk. Almalexia slammed down her own bottle of mead on the table, surprising both of them by pulling out of her flowing gowns a dainty little crystal wine glass, into which she poured a bit of the hero's drink. They said nothing, but they smiled, happy at the end of the war and happy in each other's silent company.
Vehk watched the firelight flicker in Almalexia's eyes and he took a deep breath. He smelled the petal sweet scent of her hair, which seemed to spring forth some deep memory in him that he couldn't quite place. More would be nice, he thought. But I will take of her what I can get, even if it is little, and enjoy it.
Sotha Sil raised his bottle of mead. "To the future." He said. Vehk and Almalexia both raised their drinks and began a reply in unison:
"To the f?"
"It's Ysmir!" Someone cried. The celebration ceased. The musicians stopped. All heads turned to the exhausted scout who had come running into the camp. "Ysmir has come!"
A chill flowed over the camp. There were names you did not utter lightly. There were names that could instantly turn a hearth fire to cold ash. Ysmir, Dragon of the North, was one such name.
Nerevar strode out of the tent. "Wolfhearth is dead. He has been dead for long centuries."
The scout stared desperately into Nerevar's eyes. "Sir, I tell you on an oath, Ysmir leads. The Silent King carries a host with him such as I have never seen! It is more North men than could exist in the world! And with them are untold legions of Orcs!"
Dagoth Ur, coming upon the scene laughed at the last. "This one is mad, Nerevar! The Orcs are ancient foes of the Nords!"
Nerevar's eyes did not leave the scout's. "And we are ancient enemies of the Dwemer. And yet?"
"Fine then," Dagoth Ur stated. "But defense of neighboring homes is one thing? invasion of a distant shore is another. What would drive such an alliance?"
"I do not know. Nor do I have time to concern myself with such trivia. One does not ask 'why' when he sees the assassin's blade plunging for his heart. One acts."
Nerevar turned to face the crowd. "If this Ysmir cannot remember to stay dead, then we shall have to remind him!"
The crowd, normally quick to believe Nerevar in all things, remained uncertainly silent.
Ysmir was coming. Merely thinking the name sent cold through the ranks. Nerevar huffed, angrily, and returned to his tent. He had been so close to peace? and now it was being ripped away again.
"What's a Ysmir?" Someone asked in a half-drunken tone.
For a moment no one answered and the stupid question hung ?dead- on the air. The moment stretched absurdly long. And then it stretched a little longer. And then a bit more. Almalexia snickered. Another person chuckled. Then before long the whole army was in a laughing fit.
It was not quite bravery, but it was at least something other than fear.
