Epic Battle Against the Army of Darkness

• Posted by Jiogrin December 18, 2013 - 563 views

  *Disclaimer: This is not the next chapter in Jiogrins quest to find the Monster of Greymoor. Its just a super badass battle I couldnt resist writing down.*

  I have few words for the battle that took place at our walls, or for the dead who have gone to Sovngarde. So let me simply describe it in its fullness, so those yet to come may know of it. 

  It was a warm dawn, the refugees within the walls had made it through the bitter night and were going about eating, or finding their breakfast as best they could. I had learned from Ralus, a close hand to Caius, that the Jarl was still ignorant of Fort Greymoor. I was resolved to approach the Jarl that very morning, and none but the most loathsome Daedra could stop me. 

  Until we heard the moans. 

  Many years ago, when I traveled the treacherous mountain passes, I would pass by the ancient tombs. And from them I would hear a sound, mixed with the blistering wind, that seemed to be the groans of the mountain itself. 

  It was that very sound, coming from beyond our walls, but in such a force as I never could imagine.

  The watch began to scream a warning, incomprehensible at first, muddled by fear or lust for glory I don't know, but he bellowed it over and over again 

  "They Come! They Come! To Arms!"

  I roared to those nearest me to seek the shelter of their homes as I rushed to the ramparts. From that height I threw my gaze across the field below, and what horrors I saw approaching.

  An army of the living dead, gashed and trailing blood from fresh wounds shambled towards our walls, devouring the bastards left outside their protection like grass before flames. The screams of the soon dead rose above the horrible groans of the already dead in an instant. They pressed against our gate, with such force and need the great seasoned oaken beams groaned under the weight. But we could not open them, for fear of being consumed by the very things they fled. 

  In a fury I spun about, the eyes that met me were baffled and full of fear. "This is it!" I shouted "We will defend these walls until the last man is taken, or by Talos i'll take you myself!" 

  "What would you have us do?"

  "Heat the pitch for the love of all the Aedra, ready your bows and smite the monsters before they get to us! You!"

  I grabbed a man by the shoulders and shook him hard, "Go and bring Farengar!"

  Those at the gates were trapped by the winding walls that lead them to it. They cried and begged for us to open the them, even as the undead swarm descended upon them. The grisly sound of rending flesh matched the sound of their screams. 

  The pitch was burning hot in the massive cauldrons, our best archers had taken post, bows drawn to their fullest awaiting the command. Suddenly, all I could hear was the ring of blood in my ears. This was the moment, the battle that bards would sing of for ages to come. 

  "Fire at will!"

  A whistling rain of arrows descended upon the horde. Each meeting their mark. The bloody corpses were soon bristling with them, and the unholy spirits that moved their lifeless limbs fled before the wounds we laid. The monsters quickly turned to ash, forming a cloud before the walls that rose into the sky like the smoke from a great fire. But still they came, their numbers undwindled. 

  "Ready the pitch!"

  "Sir! The Refugees are still at the walls!"

  "Damn you! Ready the pitch!"

  The man's face hardened with understanding. There was only one way we could keep the horde back from the walls, and that was to set them to fire. 

  "Pour the pitch!"

  A black curtain of steaming pitch gushed over the walls, covering those below in a scalding torrent. Their flesh melting from their bones in the heat of the boiling tar, both the living and the dead. I grabbed a torch that was still smoldering in its scone and threw it. The heat was immediate and intense, the flames leapt high over the walls in a instant. 

  In those few moments, I gazed into the depths of hell from my wall. A lake of black pitch, fire, bones and ash. I wish upon no man the curse of such a sight. Through the flames they marched. Climbing the mound of roasting flesh to scale the walls. The spirits that gripped the now fleshless bodies were single minded in their hate and determination. They would prevail.

  Suddenly a roar of thunder crackled past me, nearly knocking me to me knees. A whole score the undead fiends were incinerated in a flash of purple light.

  Farengar had arrived. His eyes glowed blue with a terrible power. Lightning crackled in his right hand, and in his left a yellowed scroll flapped in the wind. The fire roared behind me as I stood agog before the mighty wizard, steel bows twanged all around me, sending arrows to their marks with grim purpose. Suddenly I was yelling, a sound pulled from the depth of my soul, a sound not heard since the Heroes of Old slayed the great dragon Alduin upon the summit of High Hrothgar. A great victory was at hand.

  All the guard was roaring into the very maw of hell as they rained steel and fire upon the unholy mass below. Farengar readied his scroll, focusing all his Magicka into a single powerful spell. The yellowed paper fell from his hands as he moved them in precise, practiced patterns. A yellow light grew brighter and brighter around him as he completed every motion of the ritual. 

  The creatures were on the walls, nothing more than flaming bones with red hot steel melting around their ribs. My men were being pulled off the wall into the hellfire below. or torn apart where they stood. In a few more moments we would have to fall back into the town. I smashed a flaming skeleton with my war axe and bashed another off the wall with my fathers shield in the same motion. This was my destiny. I would not die there on those walls, and I would not let these monsters into my city. 

  A heavy calm rushed through the battle, like the breath of winter rushes in through an open door. The ground began to shake, and I knew Ferangar had completed the spell. There was a strong flash, and all I could see was white. There was nothing above me, or below my feet, only the light. It was warm like sunshine but smooth like water on a summers day, flooding over and through my body. I knew that we had won, that the monster were sent someplace else, that the city was safe, but I didn't want to leave the light. 

  Just as quickly is it came, the light ripped through me and I was left on the cold stone of the wall. The spell had destroyed all the creatures at the walls, and the rest were fleeing back to their master. 

  The guard lost many good men today. The fought for their homes, and for their Jarl. They are Soldiers and Heroes, and im proud to say that I fought with them on the walls of Whiterun.