4E 202, Castle Volkihar
General Tullius
The vault room suddenly shook as the dark pit beneath them started to swirl. Tullius furrowed his brow as his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword.
It was not the shaking of collapsing masonry or the dull rumble of siege engines. Those kinds of tremors were ones that Tullius had grown used to in his long life of warfare.
No, this was a vibration that seemed to crawl through stone, armor, and bone alike. Tullius felt it in his boots first, then in his ribs, then in the marrow of his teeth.
Darkness twisted within the depths of the pit like smoke trapped underwater. The air grew cold. Not the cold of Skyrim's winds, but the cold of crypts, tombs, and forgotten graves.
It was that same cold that now froze him to his core. A feeling of death, a presence, permeated throughout the room.
Tullius' eyes widened, breath catching in his throat as black mist began to pour from the pit. Purple rays speared through the haze, bathing the chamber in sickly violet light that painted every carving of a person on the walls like a corpse's.
Tullius didn't know what happened then. For one heartbeat, the room had been empty of life short of the Dragonborn and the Legionnaires that came with him.
In the next, something else was there, hovering above the pit.
Tullius had seen many horrors in his life. He had seen battlefields where men drowned in mud and blood. He had seen dragons tear apart fortresses. He had seen Daedra spill from Oblivion gates.
Yet none of that compared to right now.
The thing looked wrong in ways the mind struggled to accept. Its form was massive yet gaunt, like a corpse stretched too tall. Jagged wounds tore across its body, oozing black fluid that sizzled as it dropped on the stone floor. In its skeletal grip rested a massive axe slick with blood.
Two crimson eyes burned beneath a tattered executioner's cowl, and Tullius found himself rooted to the spot, sweat pooling in his brow. His sword hand trembled. His lungs refused to draw a full breath.
'Move!', he ordered himself, yet his body did not obey.
Behind him, one of the engineers choked and collapsed to her knees, gagging as if invisible fingers gripped her throat.
The creature's head turned slowly, surveying the chamber like a butcher inspecting livestock, until the sound of a sword exiting its sheath rang across the room.
Kiera Fendalyn stepped forward, Dawnbreaker raised, golden light spilling across her armor and pushing back the violet gloom.
"You are Daedra," she said, voice steady and unbothered from the feeling of dread. "Who are you? Why did you appear within Volkihar?"
A shrill voice replied, coming from nowhere and everywhere, sending chills across Tullius' spine.
"They… killed him… my… partner."
Tullius swallowed, yet his throat felt drier than the desert sands of Hammerfell.
"Who killed your partner?" Kiera asked.
The head swiveled as the two crimson eyes beaded on Kiera, pulsing erratically in anger. "Dragons!"
The word ended in a snarl as it swung the axe.
Light met darkness as Dawnbreaker intercepted the blow. The impact rang like thunder, golden radiance and shadow colliding in a violent flare that made Tullius flinch.
And then the pit erupted.
Skeletons clawed their way out, but these were not the brittle bones of ordinary undead. Their frames were midnight-black, slick and polished like obsidian, their eye sockets glowing pure white. More and more spilled forth, the portal roaring louder as the castle trembled around them.
"Tullius!" Kiera shouted. "Stop wallowing and move! The portal's unstable, get everyone out!"
And suddenly, the feeling of doom and gloom disappeared as Tullius forced himself to focus. Command flooded back into him like a warhorn blast.
Tullius drew his sword.
"Legionnaires, form ranks!" he barked, voice snapping through the chamber. "Front line on me! Engineers, find Legate Adventus and begin evacuations! Move!"
Discipline answered instantly.
Men who moments ago had been frozen now surged into formation, shields locking, blades rising. The sight of their Champion emboldened them like any other as Tullius strode forward to meet the first wave himself, shield up, sword ready.
The skeletons crashed into them, most wielding melee weaponry of spears and halberds, while others in the back had bows in their hands.
An arrow ricocheted off his shield with a metallic crack. He stepped through the impact and slashed, his ebony blade with the make of Shor's Stone cleaving through bone as cleanly as wheat before a scythe. The corpse collapsed in pieces.
The steel from Shor's Stone had proven time and time again to be superior than any other, as strong as Skyforged Steel if Tullius had to guess correctly.
The only difference was that Skyforged Steel could only be created by one man in one forge. This blade in particular was standard issue, the forges of Shor's Stone and their smiths far superior.
Further in the vault room, the sounds of clashing steel echoed louder as Kiera clashed with the Daedric creature.
Though Tullius knew that was not a battle he could participate in, he was not one to simply leave and run. Not when one of them was fighting.
The legionnaires fought with equal ferocity, their backs to the large doors of the vault room.
The medical tents were out there, civilians who had just been rescued. There was no way in Oblivion that Tullius would allow these creatures to harm them.
A cry of pain had him look to the side, one of his legionnaires staggered, an arrow buried deep in his shoulder as two skeletons closed in.
Tullius moved before thinking.
His blade cleaved the first one clean. The second's strike grazed his cheek, slicing skin where his helmet should have been. He ignored the sting, slammed his shield into its skull, cracked it, then removed the head entirely.
"Pull him back!" Tullius snapped.
Two soldiers dragged the wounded man to the rear as the line sealed again.
"Hold!" Tullius said as more skeletons surged. He then looked back towards a tall Imperial spearwoman, the Praefect. "Isola, take a squad and clear those archers!"
"Yes, General!"
She sprinted off with four others, circling the chamber's edge under a hail of arrows.
Tullius grunted as he lifted his shield to protect his face, blocking more arrows coming his way. Though a few came low, hitting his left knee and right thigh. The armor held, but the impact still flared pain to his lower body.
Though he didn't have time to recover, another three skeletons were rambling towards him. Tullius gris teeth, forcing himself through the pain to engage them.
Bone cracked as Tullius slammed his shield on a skeleton's arm and swung his blade through its neck. Yet the other scored a cut on his bicep, blood starting to seep to his clothes beneath.
Another legionnaire screamed as four overwhelmed him at once.
Sending Isola away meant their lines thinned, and such were the consequences.
"Hold strong!" Tullius roared through the pain, smashing his shield into the attacker while another soldier cut it down.
That was when the sound of boots thundered behind them, ten legionnaires bursting into the vault.
'Reinforcements!'
But before they could reinforce their lines, one of the central pillars shattered as the Daedra was hurled through it, debris cascading into the portal below. Kiera followed through the dust, Dawnbreaker blazing as she traded blows with the monster. Each clash rang like a struck bell.
Golden fire spilled from her blade, crawling across the floor before roaring upward into a blazing wall that encircled the portal — leaving only a narrow opening.
Tullius's eyes widened.
A funnel.
She'd turned the battlefield into a choke point.
"Form on the gap!" he shouted. "The Dragonborn's given us a chance!"
The surviving legionnaires — a little over two dozen after the reinforcements — locked shields at the opening. The undead were forced to pour through the narrow space where blades could meet them one at a time.
The sudden lack of arrows flying told Tullius that Isola's mission was successful, though it also meant that she and the legionnaires with her were trapped inside the ring of flames.
The vault trembled harder now as a high, mechanical whir rose from the portal. Tullius looked up to see purple beams shoot upward like spears of light.
Tullius shouted. "It's about to blo–!"
His words were interrupted by a voice.
"TIID KLO UL!"
The Dragonborn blurred.
In two heartbeats she crossed the chamber, impaled the Reaper through the chest, obliterated a fresh surge of skeletons, and reappeared before the legion line carrying a bleeding Isola and another soldier.
Tullius's mouth opened—
"FUS RO DAH!"
A massive shockwave exploded outward as all of the legionnaires, Tullius included, was blasted out of the vault doors into the hallway outside it.
Armor clanged as the men groaned in pain. Their weapons skidded across the stone floor.
But understanding struck them instantly. She was clearing them out.
Tullius twisted, panic clawing up his throat. 'Was she sacrificing herself?!'
"WULD NAH KEST!"
In a thunderous crack, Kiera appeared beside him, motioning with Dawnbreaker.
Golden flames roared inside the vault as purple light fought back. The walls split with jagged cracks. Stone rained from the ceiling.
Through the chaos, the Daedric figure rose again from the rubble, the wound in its chest already knitting.
Its crimson eyes locked onto Kiera.
Tullius saw them.
Burning. Ancient. Murderous.
Then a slab of stone tore loose from the ceiling and crashed down between them.
And the eyes vanished.
…
4E 202, Bthardamz
Ulfric Stormcloak
The walls of Bthardamz were strong, stronger than most fortresses Ulfric had laid siege to in his years of war.
Not even the relentless pounding of his catapults managed to crack its ancient Dwemer stone. The boulders struck with thunderous force, each impact echoing through the mountains like distant thunder, yet the walls endured.
When the army had first arrived, Ulfric wasted no time. Camps were raised in disciplined order, tents forming neat rows across the rocky plains. Engineers were set to work immediately. The Reach did not lack for timber nor stone; Ulfric had ordered the nearby groves stripped and the rocky hills quarried without hesitation.
Rams. Ladders. Catapults.
If the walls would not yield to force, they would yield to persistence.
While siege towers would have been great, the terrain surrounding the Dwemer fortress didn't allow for such a strategy. The jagged rocks and spines would sooner break the wheels before it reached the walls.
Five thousand Nords had marched under his banner to this place, and by some strange mercy—or perhaps clever work from the Legion Rangers still in the area—they had arrived unharried. Not a single Forsworn ambush had marred their approach.
Ulfric did not believe in luck.
The Forsworn were many things—mad, zealous, savage—but not suicidal. A host of five thousand Stormcloaks was not prey.
Four days passed in preparation. Four days of hammering iron, carving timber, and hauling stone. Four days of waiting.
Then the first volley began.
From atop a hill overlooking the camp, Ulfric watched as the catapults released their payloads. Massive stones soared through the air before crashing against Bthardamz's towering walls. The ground trembled faintly with each impact.
Behind him, the camp bustled with disciplined efficiency. Wooden palisades had been raised. Ditches dug. Watchtowers erected. It would not hold against a full army assault—but the Forsworn rarely fought as an army.
The Markarth Incident was an anomaly rather than the norm. Madanach had possessed patience and cunning rare among his people. It had taken a leader like him—and the lack of a garrison in Markath—to allow the city to fall.
But the man was now locked deep within the dungeons of Cidhna Mine, never to see sunlight again.
Ulfric's gaze returned to the fortress.
Even under sustained bombardment, the walls remained unmarred. Not a single visible crack. Broken stones slid down their polished surface like pebbles off a cliff face.
The sight would have disheartened lesser commanders, but Ulfric Stormcloak was not lesser.
They had more than one way of breaching walls such as this. He had already ordered plans for sappers. Tunnels would be dug beneath the walls. Foundations would be weakened. Stone might defy brute force, but everything fell eventually when its roots were cut.
Besides, the catapults served another purpose than just to break down walls.
The constant rumbling. The ceaseless thunder of impact. It would deny rest to those inside.
Continuous lobs of stone that no doubt shook the interior of the mountain fortress would shake the confidence of any man, grinding at their minds and lowering morale.
Any normal army would falter under such pressure.
But Ulfric knew well the enemy within those walls was far from normal.
Dremora did not tire as men did. Their resolve was alien, a morale not affected by fatigue or the dogged persistence of men. But the cultists were.
"Mankar has not shown his face even once." Carcette stated at his side atop her own destrier, her white cloak fluttering faintly in the mountain wind. "I would doubt that we were in the right place if not for the Dremora lining the battlements."
Ulfric narrowed his eyes toward the distant silhouettes standing atop the walls. Tall and horned creatures, watching.
"He's definitely not hiding from cowardice," Ulfric replied evenly. "Everything I've read of Mankar Camoran suggests patience. He's planning something."
"Agreed," Carcette replied with a tightening jaw. "The Mythic Dawn has been quiet since the Night of Convergence, it worries me."
"Well, If all they've done is raid supplies for the past month, then starving them out is a fool's errand." Ulfric replied. "How many do you think are in there?"
"Thousands at least." Carcette replied. "We won't know for sure until Karliah returns."
That's right, the Dunmer woman had offered to slip into the mountains alone days prior. Even speaking of it felt strange. To infiltrate such a fortress would be impossible for any ordinary agent.
But the Champion of Nocturnal was not so easily discouraged. If anyone could do it, it was her.
And if the chance arose…
Ulfric did not voice the thought. He did not need to. Both Karliah and Carcette must have already realized it as well.
Assassination would end this siege before it truly began. Should the chance to do so avail itself, Ulfric knew she would take it.
The rhythmic pounding of the catapults continued as hooves clattered up the slope behind them. Ulfric did not turn at first; he recognized the cadence.
Galmar Stone-Fist reined in his destrier beside them.
"Jarl Ulfric," Galmar said, saluting with a fist over his chest. "The men are as prepared as can be. The supply lines back to Markarth have been reinforced, with outposts set up in Karthwasten and Salvius Farm."
"Good," Ulfric replied. "Maintain rotations of sentries. No lapses. I'd rather not be caught unawares if the Dremora sally out, or if the Forsworn find sudden courage."
Galmar nodded. "Aye."
Ulfric's gaze drifted once more to the walls.
There was a stillness to them now between catapult volleys. A waiting.
Then, a shout cut through the air from below.
"Riders approaching! From the west!"
Ulfric turned sharply toward the western approach. Men scrambled to ready positions along the palisade as horns began to sound.
Though their alertness proved to be for naught as the voice continued.
"They bear the colors of Whiterun! Reinforcements is here!"
Ulfric stepped forward, eyes narrowing against the glare of the afternoon sun.
Far across the plain, a line of riders crested a distant ridge, banners bearing the horse of Whiterun snapping in the wind.
…
AN: A new chapter, huzzah!
This one was a doozy, because the whole sequence of the vault room felt difficult to write.
Not too sure yet how people would like the Reaper as a villain, but the fact that he had just seen Arvak (who is his partner) get killed by dragons was what sent him into the frenzy and made him attack Kiera, who is by all accounts, a dragon.
Tullius was a POV I didn't think I'd ever do, but I thought of having an outside perspective of what Kiera as the Dragonborn could do. I hope I portrayed that well enough.
On another note, Ulfric's campaign in the Reach is going strong, with Balgruuf arriving as reinforcements.
More chapters are available on my Pat_reon. Chapter 111 should be available by the time this chapter is posted. Just look up my name, TeemVizzle, and you'll find me.
Cheers!