Cherreads

Chapter 140 - 132. The Fight Against The Dragon

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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)

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She turned to Aerion, her eyes darting frantically across the empty, smoke filled sky. "Keep completely cautious and utterly vigilant, everyone," Irileth ordered, her voice echoing over the plains. "I do not see the dragon currently on the ground, or flying in the immediate sky. But these monster are fast. It could return from the clouds, or it could be waiting in the smoke. Spread out, lock your shields, and watch the skies!"

​The one hundred Whiterun soldiers forming the expeditionary detachment did not falter. Despite the horrific, suffocating stench of melted stone and roasted flesh hanging heavily in the air, discipline held. A booming, unified shout of confirmation erupted from the ranks, their voices a defiant wall of sound against the eerie silence of the devastated perimeter.

​Following Irileth's rapid hand signals, the massive detachment immediately broke formation. They spread out rapidly across the charred grass, forming tight, highly mobile combat squads of no less than three or four men each. Shields were locked, heavy wooden crossbows were cranked and loaded, and longbows were drawn taut.

They formed a massive, overlapping net of steel and silver around the perimeter of the ruined Western Watchtower, their eyes scanning the empty, smoke filled sky with paranoid intensity.

​Aerion did not issue a single word of command. He simply adjusted the cuffs of his dark robes and stepped forward.

Jenassa fell into step on his right, her crimson eyes narrowed against the drifting smoke. Aeloria marched on his left, the heavy Steel Plate armor clanking with grim resolve, the Axe of Morthal gripped tightly in her gauntlets. Lupin the fox trotted cautiously at the very rear, his ears flattened tightly against his skull, sensing the lingering, unnatural static of the predator in the air.

​Together, the strike team walked directly toward the smoldering, broken down remnants of the Watchtower's outer wall, falling into step beside Irileth.

​The structure was a complete ruin. The heavy stone blocks of the outer perimeter had been violently scattered like children's toys. They carefully navigated through a massive, jagged breach in the masonry, approaching the dark, open archway that led into the ground floor of the tower proper.

​Suddenly, the shadows within the archway shifted.

​A figure violently stumbled out of the darkness, practically tripping over a fallen piece of rubble. It was a Whiterun guardsman. His yellow tabard was completely blackened with soot, his helmet was missing, and his face was contorted in absolute, primal panic.

​"Stay back!" the guard shrieked, frantically waving his arms at the approaching detachment, his voice cracking with terror. "By the Gods, stay back! It's still here! The dragon is still here somewhere!"

​Irileth surged forward, grabbing the panicked guard by the shoulder plate to steady him.

​"Calm yourself, soldier!" Irileth barked, her crimson eyes blazing with authority. "Report! What happened here? Where is the goddamn dragon?!"

​"I don't know!" the guard sobbed, shaking his head wildly, his eyes darting toward the low, gray clouds rolling over the mountains. "We thought it had gone! It flew off past the peaks! Hroki and Torald... they thought it was safe! They made a run for it seeing there's a chance to get word to the city. But it just dropped out of the clouds! It snatched them both right off the dirt! They were screaming... it took them into the sky!"

​As the frantic, horrifying conversation unfolded, Aerion's transmigrator mind rapidly analyzed the tactical geometry of the ruined tower.

​Like in the game, the dragon is doing aerial strafing runs, holding the entire party on the ground floor is a massive error,' Aerion calculated cleanly. 'We need high ground overwatch to establish an anti air fire."r

​Aerion turned to his strike team, his voice low and commanding.

​"Aeloria, you remain down here with Irileth," Aerion ordered smoothly. "You are heavily armored, and your battleaxe is a dedicated melee weapon. You possess absolutely no ranged capabilities. If the dragon lands, you form the vanguard with the surviving guardsmen. Do not let it do much damage there."

​Aeloria offered a sharp, resolute nod, stepping forward to flank the Housecarl. "Understood. The ground is mine."

​"Jenassa. With me," Aerion commanded, turning toward the dark archway. "We secure the high ground."

​The Dark Elf assassin didn't say a word. She simply unslung her heavy Dwarven Bow and followed the High Elf.

​Aerion and Jenassa bypassed the panicked guard and entered the ground floor of the Watchtower. The interior was choked with thick, gray smoke and the smell of burning timber.

They located the narrow, winding spiral stone staircase and immediately began their ascent. They moved with terrifying speed, their boots echoing sharply against the stone as they rushed toward the open air parapets at the absolute zenith of the tower.

​Just as they were halfway up the spiral, the very earth beneath the tower violently trembled.

​A sound unlike anything Aerion had ever heard in his mortal life suddenly erupted from the southern mountain range. It was not the roar of a bear, or the shriek of a troll.

It was a massive, deafening, guttural bellow that seemed to vibrate directly within the marrow of their bones. The sheer acoustic force of the roar actively pushed the smoke out of the staircase.

​From the ground below, the terrified scream of the surviving guard pierced the air.

​"Kynareth save us all! Here it comes!"

​Immediately following the guard's cry, Irileth's booming, authoritative voice rang out across the plains, perfectly audible even from the stairwell.

​"Archers, knock your arrows! Crossbowmen, aim high! Shield wall, brace! Give them nothing!" Irileth roared, frantically coordinating the one hundred soldiers scattered across the scorched earth.

​Aerion and Jenassa reached the top of the stairs, bursting out onto the ruined, open air roof of the Watchtower. Half of the stone parapets had been violently melted into smooth, glassy slag, providing an unobstructed, terrifying view of the southern horizon.

​They turned their eyes toward the jagged peaks of the Throat of the World.

​Descending from the clouds, moving with a terrifying, impossible predatory grace, was the dragon.

​It was massive. Its scales were a dark, sickly brownish green, catching the late afternoon sunlight like rusted iron plates. Its colossal, leathery wings beat against the air with concussive, booming thuds that sounded like distant thunder.

It let out a second, deafening roar, banking sharply through the sky, its reptilian eyes locking directly onto the dense cluster of Whiterun soldiers gathering around the base of the tower.

​"Target acquired," Aerion announced, his voice completely devoid of fear.

​He didn't bother drawing a sword. He raised both of his hands, his palms facing the descending myth. He bypassed his fire magic completely; standard dragon scales were highly resistant to basic thermal energy, and a creature that breathed fire would likely shrug it off. He needed raw, physical, kinetic penetration.

​He tapped deeply into his newly leveled Destruction (Frost) skill.

​Ice Spike.

​Jenassa mirrored his movement flawlessly. She stepped up to the edge of the melted stone parapet, planting her boots wide. She drew the string of her heavy Dwarven Bow all the way back to her cheek, aiming a heavy, steel tipped arrow directly at the dragon's approaching chest. The orange fire runes etched into the Dwemer metal flared to life.

​Aerion fired first.

​Twin, massive, jagged lances of pure, absolute zero glacial ice erupted from his palms. The spells tore through the air with the shrieking sound of tearing canvas.

​CRACK! CRACK!

​The massive ice spikes slammed directly into the dragon's right wing joint. The sheer kinetic force of the impact staggered the beast in mid air, the freezing magic violently expanding across the joint and stiffening the leathery membrane.

​The dragon roared in sudden, genuine pain.

​A split second later, Jenassa released her bowstring. The heavy steel arrow streaked upward, sinking deeply into the softer, unarmored scales of the dragon's underbelly. The Dwarven fire enchantment detonated upon impact, blowing a small, bloody crater into the beast's flesh.

​The dragon's golden, slit pupiled eyes snapped toward the top of the Watchtower. The beast had found the source of its pain, and it was absolutely furious.

​The dragon banked sharply, completely ignoring the soldiers below, and dove directly toward Aerion and Jenassa. As it closed the distance, its massive jaws unhinged, a brilliant, blinding orange light violently illuminating the back of its throat.

​"Incoming! Dive!" Aerion roared.

​Aerion and Jenassa threw themselves violently backward, diving flat onto the stone floor of the rooftop just as the dragon swooped overhead.

​A massive, roaring torrent of superheated dragonfire washed completely over the top of the tower. The sheer, apocalyptic heat of the flames instantly vaporized the lingering smoke and melted the remaining stone parapets into bubbling liquid slag. Aerion could feel the blistering heat radiating through his dark robes, the air instantly vacuumed from his lungs.

​The dragon pulled up, its massive wings carrying it past the tower, circling back around for another pass.

​Down on the ground, the Whiterun detachment did not stand idle.

​"Volley! Fire!" Irileth screamed.

​Nearly fifty archers and crossbowmen released their bowstrings simultaneously. A massive, deadly swarm of steel tipped arrows and heavy iron bolts arced up into the sky, chasing the dragon's tail. The projectiles rained down upon the beast.

Many simply pinged harmlessly off the thick, iron like scales of its back, but several found their mark in the wing membranes and the softer underside of the tail. The dragon shrieked, banking hard to the left to avoid the concentrated anti air fire.

​Aerion scrambled back to his feet on the smoking rooftop. The heat was unbearable, and the tactical vantage point was rapidly becoming a death trap.

​"Switching to lightning! Let these bastard tasted it's electrifying couriejg through its vein!" Aerion commanded.

​He thrust his hands skyward, unleashing a massive, continuous volley of Chain Lightning. Brilliant, crackling purple bolts of electricity arced across the sky, slamming into the dragon's side. The shock magic violently interrupted the beast's flight pattern, electrocuting its nervous system and forcibly draining the ambient magical energy it used to sustain its Thu'um.

​Jenassa fired three more arrows in rapid succession, her face a mask of absolute, lethal concentration.

​But the dragon was an ancient predator, and it recognized that the concentrated fire from the ground was a vastly larger threat than the two gnats on the tower.

​The beast folded its massive wings, dropping out of the sky like a falling meteor.

​It didn't breathe fire. It simply crashed directly into the center of the Whiterun guard formation.

​The impact was absolutely catastrophic. The sheer kinetic force of the multi ton monster slamming into the earth triggered a localized earthquake, violently throwing dozens of soldiers off their feet.

​The dragon unleashed absolute, unadulterated slaughter upon the plains.

​It snapped its massive jaws, its razor-sharp teeth instantly crushing a guardsman completely in half, tossing the severed remains aside like a broken doll. It swung its massive, spiked tail in a devastating, horizontal arc.

The heavy blow shattered three solid steel Kite shields simultaneously, violently hurling the soldiers backward with enough force to shatter their spines upon impact with the earth.

​"Hold the line! Do not break!" Irileth roared, charging forward with her sword drawn, desperately trying to rally the terrified, routing men.

​The dragon inhaled deeply, unleashing another horrific torrent of fire directly across the grass. Five soldiers, unable to scramble backward in time, were instantly engulfed in the flames. Their agonizing, high pitched screams echoed over the tundra as their armor superheated, roasting them alive within their own steel.

​In less than twenty seconds of grounded combat, over twenty of Whiterun's finest soldiers had been brutally, violently slaughtered.

​Up on the tower, Aerion saw the line collapsing.

​"The high ground is useless! It's grounded!" Aerion barked. "We go down now!"

​Aerion and Jenassa goes to take the spiral stairs. He engaged his massive Stamina pool, running as fast as he could over the spiral stairs. Jenassa followed right behind, a bit later, using a series of controlled drops down the ruined masonry to reach the ground.

​They sprinted into the chaotic, burning fray.

​Aeloria was an absolute, terrifying vision of Nordic wrath.

​While the common guardsmen were breaking ranks and fleeing from the snapping jaws, the Dragonborn charged directly toward the monster. The heavy Steel Plate armor clanked loudly as she sprinted through the burning grass.

​The dragon lowered its massive head, snapping its jaws directly at her.

​Aeloria didn't flinch. She slid smoothly through the ash, ducking perfectly beneath the lethal bite. She swung the Axe of Morthal in a massive, devastating, upward diagonal cleave.

​The heavy steel head of the battleaxe slammed violently into the side of the dragon's neck. The blow did not decapitate the beast, but the sheer force of the impact, combined with the blazing red fire enchantments, shattered a cluster of thick, iron like scales, carving a deep, bleeding gash into its flesh.

​The dragon roared in genuine, shocked agony. A mortal had actually managed to breach its armor.

​It violently whipped its massive head to the side, the heavy, spiked horns on its snout slamming into Aeloria's chest. The concussive impact threw the Dragonborn backward. She tumbled across the dirt, but the masterfully forged Steel Plate completely absorbed the lethal kinetic shock, saving her ribs from being pulverized.

​"Keep it distracted!" Aerion commanded, stepping into the vanguard.

​Aerion abandoned defensive magic entirely. He dual-cast massive, continuous bursts of Incinerate and Thunderbolt, raining apocalyptic, localized destruction directly against the bleeding gash Aeloria had opened on the beast's neck. The plasma seared the exposed flesh, while the lightning caused the dragon's massive muscles to violently spasm.

​Jenassa flanked to the right, abandoning her bow. She drew her Frost Steel Sword and her iron dagger, moving like a blur through the smoke. She slipped beneath the dragon's sweeping wing, slashing her freezing blade repeatedly against the softer, unarmored tendons of its hind leg, crippling its mobility.

​The remaining thirty Whiterun guards, seeing the towering High Elf and the Steel clad warrior actively holding their ground against the myth, suddenly rallied. They pushed their terror aside, drawing their broadswords and charging back into the fray with desperate, screaming battle cries.

​The combat devolved into a fierce, blinding, brutally chaotic melee.

​The dragon was bleeding heavily now, thick, boiling black blood pouring from its neck and leg. The pain and the sheer, relentless pressure of the combined assault drove the beast into an absolute, frantic frenzy.

​It violently beat its massive wings, throwing several guardsmen backward with the gale force wind, and launched itself desperately back into the sky.

​It didn't fly away. It banked sharply, climbing high into the clouds, preparing for a final, apocalyptic divebomb intended to crush the entire strike team in a single, suicidal strike.

​"It's diving! Brace for impact!" Irileth screamed, raising her shield toward the sky.

​The dragon plummeted toward the earth like a falling mountain.

​But its crippled, frozen hind leg and the massive, bleeding gash on its neck threw its aerodynamic trajectory entirely off. It couldn't pull up in time to execute a clean strike.

​The dragon hit the ground at a terrifying, diagonal angle.

​The impact was deafening. The massive beast crashed violently into the dirt fifty yards away from the tower, its momentum carrying it forward.

It skidded violently across the plains, tearing a massive, deep, six foot trench through the earth and grass. Boulders were shattered, and massive clouds of dirt and smoke were violently kicked up into the air as the beast plowed through the tundra.

​It finally skidded to a violently sudden, shuddering halt just twenty feet away from Aerion and his team.

​The dragon was broken. Its right wing was snapped at a grotesque angle, and it was bleeding profusely from a dozen different arrow wounds and deep magical burns.

​But it was not dead.

​The beast forced its massive head up, its golden eyes burning with pure, unadulterated, hateful fury. It opened its jaws, the back of its throat glowing with a brilliant, blinding orange light as it prepared to unleash a final, desperate, point-blank torrent of fire that would incinerate them all.

​Aerion did not give it the chance.

​His transmigrator mind instantly calculated the absolute necessity of a killing blow.

​He didn't draw a sword. He engaged his massive, overflowing Magicka pool, tapping directly into the custom, apocalyptic spell he had engineered in Movarth's lair.

​He didn't aim for an area of effect. He aimed directly, specifically, at the dragon's open jaws.

​He dual cast the magic, pouring every ounce of his destructive potential into the spell.

​Fire Storm (Targeted).

​"Burn," Aerion whispered coldly.

​A tiny, condensed spark of white hot plasma materialized directly inside the dragon's open mouth.

​The spell detonated.

​The explosion was catastrophic. The localized supernova of superheated plasma violently erupted directly against the dragon's face. The blast entirely overpowered the beast's own internal fire, violently scorching its eyes, shattering its heavy nasal horns, and melting the thick, protective scales surrounding its skull.

​The dragon shrieked, a horrific, gurgling sound, its head violently thrown backward by the concussive force of the blast, its jaws smoking and ruined.

​The beast was entirely blinded, defenseless, and reeling.

​"Aeloria! Now!" Aerion roared over the ringing explosion.

​Aeloria did not hesitate. The Dragonborn pushed herself up from the dirt, entirely ignoring the ringing in her ears and the heavy bruises forming beneath her armor.

​She charged directly through the dissipating smoke and the lingering magical flames. She closed the distance in a fraction of a second, stepping right up to the massive, thrashing, smoking snout of the crippled dragon.

​She raised the Axe of Morthal high above her head, the red fire runes blazing with a terrifying, righteous intensity. She engaged every single ounce of raw, Nordic strength in her powerful frame.

​She brought the heavy steel battleaxe down in a massive, devastating, two handed executioner's strike.

​The blazing steel head slammed directly into the absolute center of the dragon's skull. The sheer kinetic force of the blow, combined with the heavy steel, easily pierced the weakened, melted scales.

The battleaxe sank deeply into the bone, penetrating directly into the beast's brain cavity.

​The dragon's massive body instantly, violently locked up in a rigid, terrifying spasm of absolute biological failure.

​It didn't roar. It didn't breathe fire.

​As the light of life finally, inevitably began to fade from its glowing golden eyes, the massive jaws slowly opened one final time.

​A heavy, incredibly deep, rattling breath escaped the beast's throat. It was not a mindless animal sound. It was an articulate, terrified, incredibly ancient word spoken in the deep, resonant tongue of the Dovah.

​"Dovahkiin?!! Noooo!!!"

​The dying, panicked shout echoed hauntingly across the silent, blood-soaked plains, the deep, guttural syllables rolling over the surviving guardsmen like distant thunder.

​None of the Whiterun soldiers understood the word.

Irileth frowned, her sword still raised, deeply unsettled by the human like desperation in the monster's final breath. Even Aeloria, who had just driven the axe into its skull, simply stared at the beast, completely unaware of the profound, mythological significance of what it had just called her.

​But standing a few feet away, entirely hidden beneath his flawless, aristocratic mask of calm... Aerion heard it. And he understood it perfectly. 'Dragonborn,' Aerion thought, a sharp, profound thrill of anticipation running through his transmigrator veins. The dragon collapsed heavily into the dirt, entirely limp. The Axe of Morthal remained lodged deeply in its skull. The beast was dead. The first true dragon of that come back alive in this era had fallen.

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[Main Panel]

Name: Aerion

Race: High Elf (Altmer)

Health: 460/460 Stamina: 480/480 Magicka: 670/670

Level: 136

Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+3)/Lightning(+1)/Frost(+1)) (Level 28/57/20), Restoration (Healing(+1)/Purify(+2)) (Level 14/25), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/26), Persuasion(+1) (Level 60), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 87), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor (Level 92), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)

Shouts: Fus (Force), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii (Fade Spirit), & Su (Air)

[Inventory Panel]

1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, Hide Boots Of Sneak, Gold Ruby Ring of Fortify Magicka, Iron Garnet Ring of Fortify Conjuration & Magicka Regen, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Honed Ancient Nord Sword of Sparks, Gold Emerald Circlet, & Scroll of Fire Storm, Ring of Archery,Hide Boots of Stamina, Ancient Nord Sword of Absorbing, Iron Garnet Circlet, & Iron Sapphire Circlet

2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, Amethysts, Potions of Plentiful Magicka, Scroll of Conjure Familiar, & Scroll of Magelight

3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, Iron Necklace, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), & Potions of Minor Magicka

4x Spider Eggs, Garnets, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)

5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)

7x Vampires Dust

8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows

9x Potions Of Minor Healing

12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)

Weight: 90.20 KG / 540 KG

Septims: 82,557

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