All-Flag Rangers: Part IV, the Battle of Orphan Rock
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Skyrim, 4E 97
The rangers made it down the mountain fast enough but had to circle around it to reach Orphan Rock. When they arrived they witnessed a slaughter.
Witches and warlocks were strewn about the copse, all dead or dying. Up ahead there was a large stone outcropping. They could hear a mass of shrieking caws and screeches. It seemed Lagerta had no issue with the witches and warlocks, but these bird-hags were a tougher fight, and there was at least three or four of them up there. They didn't see the nord woman anywhere.
"Hagravens," said Furioso, "that's what they're called. They're witches that've turned themselves into something else, and they're no joke. I was told she was assaulting Orphan Rock, but she can't take on a handful of hagravens on her own. Go."
Aurelius nodded and directed Iszir to go left around the rock where he could scale it and attack. He would go right while Alessandros would attack head-on.
"Furioso," said Alessandros, "can not leave him. I keep safe."
Furioso patted his arm, "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Moth priests are far from helpless."
Alessandros looked unsure, but Aurelius pushed him on, chastising him to follow orders.
So the assault began.
Iszir ghosted through the trees, willing hir cocoa skin to blend into the bark. This wasn't the desert, Iszir could not rely on the sands to hide hir from sight. As ze got near the rock ze leaned against a tree and took a moment to breathe. The frost burned hir lungs, but Iszir needed to take hir last breath. Ze breathed until ze remembered the Book of Circles and in it's guidance Iszir was no longer human.
Iszir was the blade.
"The Seventy-Ninth Strike," Iszir whispered to hirself, "the spear of the fisherman sharpened at daybreak."
Iszir took hir saber by the hilt, walked from behind the tree and pulled hir arm back then launched the sword like a spear. A hagraven walked into view then, saw Iszir and before the creature could shriek the blade pierced her chest like an arrow. A moment later Iszir was there, having leapt like the salmon from the tree to the rock. Before the hag fell Iszir was gripping the hilt again. Ze unsheathed it, black blood dripping on the white snow.
"The blade does not follow the warriors, the warrior follows the blade."
There were four more hagravens, they turned when Iszir spoke and screeched like hell itself. Two launched themselves toward hir only to stumble when the rock shook suddenly. A huge bellow came from below, and Iszir moved into the Ephemeral Feint.
Alessandros rammed the rock again, and the hag nearest the edge screeched as the rock crumbled and she fell.
The two that had rushed regained their balance, and surrounded Iszir, who switched to the Bellguard stance. The last hagraven stood back, and began launching fireballs east, towards the spectre that was quickly slithering her way. The Captain let out a kiai, dodging each flame like a serpent wriggling between stones. The hag raised both arms and let loose a double volley, and Aurelius was forced to raise his legion shield against it. The wood cracked, the steel burned the flesh of his fist that held the shield steady. He was halfway across a log bridge connecting the Rock when he drew his spear and thrust, tearing a gash in the hag's cheek. The creature screamed,
"My beautiful face!"
It glanced down and then let loose a lightningbolt at the log itself. The wood snapped and collapsed, falling into a pit of spikes. Aurelius leapt at the last moment but he could not reach the Rock's ledge. He thrust overhead with his spear and it pierced the hag's leg. The hagraven screeched in pain at the penetration then again when Aurelius' weight pulled the shaft out, stopped only by the spearpoint on the otherside of her wound pulling at her leg. She gripped her leg with both claws, barely keeping herself from behind pulled over with the nibenese captain. They were caught in a stalemate. Her beady black stares stared balefully down into his slitted snake-eyes, and she growled. Aurelius glanced down to his left and had to stop himself from chuckling.
Alessandros had caught the hag that fell. He was sitting on it's back, and it was obvious from the set of his knees that he wasn't putting his full weight down. The hag was trapped and was wriggling but couldn't move her limbs well enough to attack or cast a spell. Alessandros looked up and saw the Captain dangling. He stood and ran towards him a couple steps before remembering the hagraven. He backpedaled quickly to the hag who had gotten up to her claws and knees, grabbed her face with one meaty hand and did an underhand throw, sending her sailing across the pit of spikes where she hit the ground with a wet thud.
Aurelius turned back to where Alessandros had been, but he was now navigating through the spikes, trying to get beneath the Aurelius.
"I catch Captain!" he called out.
Aurelius shook his head, "Finish the hag first!" he yelled, "before she gets back up." But Alessandros didn't have any interest in killing. Aurelius turned back to the hagraven the minotaur had thrown. She was pulling herself dazedly out of the snow, and he could see a big gash in her head where she'd struck the stone. There was yellow bone peeking out of the matted black blood. The monster turned, saw Alessandros in the midst of the spikes, unable to move quickly, and the Captain dangling like a caught fish. Aurelius would never forget the cruel smile of dagger-pointed teeth it made as it thrust out a hand, but the spell never cast. There was gleam of metal and a rush of wind that carried a thundering sound,
"WULD!"
And the hag's head fell from her shoulders. Then there was Lagerta, ten feet away clutching her bloody axe and her left side covered almost entirely in red and black gore, jogging towards them.
"Ready Captain!" came Alessandros' voice from below.
Aurelius glanced at the approaching Lagerta, who nodded. He let go, and the hagraven above stumbled to one knee, and looked over the ledge at the two rangers. It had every intention to finish them then and there, but the nord's voice was faster.
"GUT FO!"
A mass of frost materialized in the Hag's face, blinding her and burning. She cawed and clawed at her face trying to clear the burning ice. She finally got it out of her eyes but could hardly see. She hadn't the time for surprise when Aurelius' gladius pierced her skull, thrown up to the Rock by Alessandros' might. He sheathed his sword and pulled his iron spear out of her leg. putting up his battered shield. There was a crunch of snow as Lagerta landed next to him. They began advancing on the two hagravens that surrounded Iszir, clawing madly but Iszir parried every swipe. The nord and the cyrodiil came up from behind, and a single thrust of a spear, a single swing of the axe, and the two hags fell dead. Iszir let his blade down, and released the breath he'd held since the fight had started.
The assault was over.
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The three stood on the Rock, facing one another.
"You fight well for foreigners." said Lagerta.
"Your voice is strong," said Iszir, "but your will more so. Why did you set yourself against so many powerful enemies in such superior numbers?"
Lagerta shrugged, "They prey upon the children of Helgen. No other would do it."
"It's foolish to fight a superior force alone," said Aurelius, "the wisdom to know what you cannot do alone is what set the Legion above the forces of all other nations."
The nord scowled, "The course of cowards is often the wisest, and that is why the Imperial touch crawls across Skyrim, and faithful nords abandon the totem-gods to prostrate them at the feet of your Eight and your half-breed emperor-turned-god." She pulled off her battered iron helmet, dropped it in the snow, "I am Winterhold born, of the blood of old when a single nord could hold off an army of devils and mountain hogs. When five hundred nords exterminated the whole of the elven scourge from Skyrim. I need no Legion, and have no interest in whatever you have come to sell me."
Aurelius gazed at her, her faced was lined and scarred, her dirty blonde hair gray at the roots. She looked to be somewhere between fifty and seventy, but he couldn't say exactly what age. Aurelius glanced at Iszir, then back at Lagerta.
"They tell stories in Cyrodiil of the Companions of the Fatherland," he said, "Are you of their exalted number?"
"I was, years ago," she said, "but their flesh is weak and they seek not to strengthen it but to change it. They are nothing more than milk-drinkers pretending to the greatness of their nymic forebears," she pushed the hair out of her face with her left hand, streaking blood through her tangled locks, "If you have come to ask me to join a new fellowship, walk on."
"Very well," replied Aurelius, "I won't ask you again. But we're heading east now," he bent down, picked up her helmet and handed it to her, "Would a good nord woman have the hospitality to show us the way out of her lands?"
Lagerta glanced at Iszir, who stood stock-still like a dark rod of iron, then at Aurelius who's tannish skin seemed almost to glitter like golden scales in the setting sun.
"Fine," she said, "Collect your giant and your blind old man, and I will take you into the devil lands. Then irk me no more."
The rangers and the nord regrouped, then began the journey into the east.
Into Morrowind.
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