If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The heavy iron crossbar was lifted, and the massive wooden doors of the estate swung silently open, revealing the freezing, mist shrouded darkness of the open plains. "March," Aerion ordered. As one terrifying, unified entity, the private army of Tribune Aerion stepped out into the night, marching silently across the tundra toward the looming, jagged silhouette of Fort Greymoor. The slaughter was about to begin.
The Whiterun tundra at three hours past midnight was a vast, freezing ocean of suffocating darkness. The twin moons, Masser and Secunda, were hidden behind thick, rolling banks of silver edged clouds, plunging the plains into an absolute, inky blackness that clung to the frost covered grass.
Through this freezing void, the small force marched.
Twenty one heavily armed warriors moved with terrifying, disciplined silence. The only sounds were the muffled, rhythmic crunch of leather and steel boots against the packed dirt of the road, and the occasional, quiet clink of chainmail. Aerion marched near the center of the formation, his dark robes rendering him virtually invisible in the gloom, while Lupin the fox trotted faithfully at his heels, its sharp senses alert to the shadows.
Given the incredibly early hour, the main road was entirely devoid of merchant caravans or traveling bards. However, as the vanguard rounded the final bend approaching the outskirts of the city, the warm, flickering torchlight of the Whiterun Stables cut through the mist.
Standing beneath the wooden overhang, a patrol of three Whiterun guards was warming their hands over a brazier. The moment the massive, armed formation of mercenaries emerged from the darkness of the road, the guards violently stiffened. Their weapons were instantly taken out, as their hands dropped to the hilts of broadswords.
"Halt!" the lead guard barked, his voice laced with sudden, spiking adrenaline as he stared at the advancing shield wall. "Hold your ground! Identify yourselves in the name of the Jarl!"
The mercenary vanguard immediately slowed, but they did not break formation. Sinmir rested a heavy gauntlet on the pommel of his sword, waiting for the command.
Aerion smoothly stepped out from behind the wall of Whiterun steel, stepping directly into the pooling light of the guards' torches. He pushed his dark hood back, allowing the flickering flames to illuminate his flawless, aristocratic features.
The guard captain's eyes widened in sudden recognition. The tension in his shoulders instantly evaporated, though his confusion skyrocketed.
"Thane Aerion?" the guard asked respectfully, immediately lowering his spear. He looked past the High Elf, his eyes scanning the two dozen hardened mercenaries, the Dragonborn, and the dark cloaked assassin. "My lord... what is the meaning of this? Why are you leading an entire armed company down the road at this hour?"
Aerion offered a calm, perfectly composed, disarming smile. He engaged his Persuasion skill, weaving an aura of unshakeable civic duty into his melodic voice.
"Peace, guardsman," Aerion reassured the man smoothly. "There is absolutely no cause for alarm. The Dragonborn and I have received actionable intelligence regarding a massive, highly dangerous bandit encampment establishing itself near the western borders. As a Thane of this hold, I refuse to allow such scum to prey upon our trade routes. I have simply hired some independent muscle to assist us in exterminating the threat before it can fester."
The guard slowly nodded, the logic perfectly aligning with Aerion's established reputation as a wealthy, proactive protector of the city. If the Thane wanted to spend his own massive fortune paying mercenaries to do the city guard's bloody work, they weren't about to stop him.
"I understand, my Thane," the guard saluted crisply, stepping back to clear the road. "May Kyne guide your blades. Give those bandit bastards hell."
"That is precisely the objective," Aerion murmured.
He gave a slight wave of his hand, and the silent march resumed. They passed the stables, leaving the warm glow of the city behind, and plunged back into the freezing wilderness of the western plains.
They followed the winding cobblestone road for another hour. As they crested a shallow hill, the ruined, skeletal remains of the Western Watchtower loomed out of the mist on their left. Aeloria cast a brief, lingering glance at the scorched stones where she had absorbed her first dragon soul, her grip tightening on the haft of her battleaxe.
"We leave the main road here," Aerion commanded softly, his voice carrying only to his officers. "Turn north. Into the brush."
They abandoned the cobblestones, stepping into the tall, frost hardened grass and navigating the rocky, uneven terrain. They moved slower now, prioritizing absolute stealth over speed.
Twenty minutes later, the colossal, jagged silhouette of Fort Greymoor finally materialized against the starry sky.
It was an architectural nightmare of ancient stone and desperate, slapdash fortification. The sheer scale of the compound vastly exceeded the condensed, ruined footprint Aerion remembered from his past life. This was a sprawling, multi tiered fort complex.
The massive outer walls of gray stone were crumbling in places, but the bandits had viciously reinforced the breaches with thick, sharpened wooden palisades.
Towering, makeshift wooden watchtowers had been lashed to the ancient stone battlements, providing the archers with a terrifyingly dominant field of view over the surrounding plains.
Flickering orange light spilled from dozens of braziers mounted along the walls. Aerion could clearly see the silhouettes of heavily armed sentries pacing the battlements, their breath pluming in the freezing air.
Aerion raised his right hand, bringing the entire strike force to a silent, immediate halt behind a long ridge of jagged rocks, roughly eighty yards from the main gates.
"Move," Aerion whispered, his golden eyes locking onto the tactical layout.
Jenassa materialized at his side, her crimson eyes scanning the high towers.
"Take the archers," Aerion instructed her, pointing toward the elevated, rocky embankments flanking the fort's main approach. "Get high. The second my signal is given, I want every sentry on those walls and in those watchtowers dead before they hit the stone. Do not miss."
"Morag Tong arrows do not miss, Patron," Jenassa promised softly.
She turned, giving a series of sharp, silent hand signals to the five mercenaries armed with longbows. The six archers peeled away from the main formation, melting seamlessly into the shadows as they crept up the rocky flanks.
Aerion turned his attention back to the heavy vanguard.
"Aeloria, Sinmir, Valdemar, Uthgerd," Aerion commanded, looking at the heavily armored warriors. "Stack up directly behind the Dragonborn. When the arrows fly, you sprint for the main gates. Aeloria, shatter the wood. The rest of you, pour into the breach and establish the shield wall. Anchor the courtyard."
"Understood," Sinmir grunted, drawing his massive broadsword with a soft, metallic hiss.
"And you, my Thane?" Valdemar asked, his protective instincts flaring.
Aerion stepped back, gesturing to Lydia, who immediately positioned herself directly in front of him, her heavy Kite shield raised.
"Lydia will act as my personal bulwark," Aerion explained coldly. "I will direct the initial flow of the assault from the rear, coordinate the magical spells, and ensure our casualties remain at absolute zero. When the courtyard devolves into a full melee, I will join the fray."
The vanguard nodded, their faces grim and set. They crouched low behind the rocks, their muscles coiled like springs, their eyes fixed on the massive, heavy wooden barricade that served as the fort's main gate.
Aerion stood perfectly still, his eyes tracking the shadows moving along the high ridges. He waited until he saw the faint, almost imperceptible glint of moonlight reflecting off Jenassa's drawn arrow.
The archers were in position. The vanguard was primed.
Aerion raised his hand high into the air. He held it for three agonizing seconds, letting the tension peak, before slicing his hand violently downward.
The signal.
From the darkness of the rocky ridges, six heavy bowstrings snapped forward with a synchronized, lethal thwip.
The steel tipped arrows crossed the eighty yards in a fraction of a second. The precision was utterly terrifying. Three bandits pacing the lower battlements suddenly jerked backward, arrows buried to the fletching in their throats.
In the towering wooden watchtowers, two sentries violently convulsed, dropping their bows as Jenassa's steel arrow fire enchanted punched cleanly through their skulls and burned their head.
They died in absolute silence. But gravity betrayed the stealth.
One of the dead sentries on the wall slumped forward, his heavy leather armor dragging against the stone before his corpse violently tumbled over the edge of the battlement.
The body hit the hard packed dirt directly in front of the main gates with a sickening, highly audible CRACK.
From the inner courtyard, a voice yelled out in alarm.
"Now!" Aerion roared, shattering the silence.
Aeloria erupted from behind the rocks like a blonde missile. The Dragonborn sprinted across the frozen dirt, her heavy steel boots eating up the distance with terrifying speed.
Sinmir, Valdemar, Uthgerd, and the rest of the heavy infantry surged forward directly in her wake, a roaring tide of Whiterun steel.
As Aeloria closed within twenty feet of the massive, iron-reinforced wooden gates, she slammed her boots into the dirt, sliding slightly. She threw her head back, drawing the ancient magic directly from her soul.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The fully unlocked, absolute pinnacle of the Unrelenting Force violently tore from her throat.
The kinetic shockwave was apocalyptic. The invisible cone of raw, divine pressure slammed into the heavy wooden barricade with the force of a detonating mountain.
The massive, thick oak timbers didn't just break, they absolutely disintegrated. Iron hinges violently sheared from the stone, and massive, jagged splinters of wood the size of javelins were blasted backward into the courtyard at terrifying velocities.
The deafening, concussive boom of the Shout echoed across the tundra for miles.
"Shields up! Push the breach!" Sinmir bellowed, charging straight through the swirling cloud of pulverized wood and dust.
The mercenary vanguard crashed violently into the inner courtyard of Fort Greymoor.
The scene inside was pure, chaotic pandemonium. The sheer volume of the enemy was staggering. Aerion's intelligence had been flawlessly accurate, there were easily over a hundred hardened bandits, cutthroats, and marauders swarming the massive, multi tiered inner courtyard.
Dozens of bandits who had been sleeping in the tents near the walls were scrambling out, drawing rusted iron swords and steel maces in absolute panic.
But panic was no match for a highly disciplined, heavily armored shield wall.
Sinmir and Valdemar bashed their heavy iron shields into the front line of the scrambling bandits, shattering ribs and jaws with brutal, crushing force. Uthgerd the Unbroken stepped into the opening, swinging her massive steel greatsword in a devastating horizontal arc that completely cleaved through the leather armor of two marauders, spilling their blood across the dirt.
Aeloria was a god of war in the center of the formation. She waded into the absolute thickest cluster of the enemy, the blazing red runes of the Axe of Morthal leaving searing arcs of light in the darkness. She brought the heavy ebony blade down, splitting a bandit chieftain from collarbone to sternum, the intense heat instantly cauterizing the horrific wound.
"Form the line! Do not let them surround us!" Sinmir roared, kicking a dying bandit off his blade.
The fifteen heavy infantry mercenaries locked their shields together, forming an impenetrable, bristling semi circle of steel just inside the destroyed gates, methodically butchering any bandit foolish enough to charge the choke point.
From the high ridges outside the fort, Jenassa and her archers were laying down a relentless, devastating covering fire. Every time a bandit archer attempted to lean over the inner balconies to fire down into the courtyard, a steel arrow violently pinned them to the stone.
But the sheer numbers of the syndicate began to press. The initial shock of the breached gate wore off, replaced by the desperate, cornered fury of a hundred cutthroats.
And then, the true threat emerged.
From the heavy stone archways leading into the deeper keeps of the fortress, the rogue mages arrived.
There were nearly a dozen of them, clad in ragged robes, their hands already glowing with violently unstable Destruction magic. They had been cast out of the College of Winterhold or had learned their dark arts in the shadows, and they fought with absolutely zero restraint.
"Burn them out!" a scarred Dunmer mage shrieked from a second story stone balcony overlooking the courtyard.
He thrust his hands forward, unleashing a massive, roaring torrent of Flames down upon the right flank of the mercenary shield wall.
Two of the sellswords screamed as the intense heat washed over their steel armor, the superheated metal instantly beginning to sear their flesh beneath.
From across the courtyard, a Breton conjurer slammed his staff against the flagstones, violently tearing a rift in the fabric of Oblivion. A massive, spectral Familiar, a glowing, ethereal wolf, howled and launched itself at Valdemar's shield, snapping its ethereal jaws.
The tactical geometry was shifting. The sheer volume of magical artillery threatened to break the mercenary line.
Standing safely outside the destroyed gates, shielded perfectly by Lydia's heavy stance, Aerion analyzed the battlefield with absolute, cold sociopathy. It was time to escalate the violence.
Aerion stepped around Lydia, raising both of his hands into the freezing night air. He didn't tap into his Destruction matrix yet. He tapped into the deep, reality bending power of Conjuration.
He targeted the absolute center of the bandit horde massing in the courtyard.
Summon Frost Atronach.
The air in the center of the courtyard violently plummeted to absolute zero. A localized blizzard instantly erupted, obscuring the vision of the bandits. With a deafening, earth shaking CRUNCH, a massive, seven foot tall golem forged entirely of jagged, unmelting blue ice and freezing vapor violently materialized directly in the middle of their ranks.
The Frost Atronach let out a deep, booming groan that sounded like grinding glaciers. It swung its massive, boulder sized fist of solid ice, slamming it into a cluster of three bandits. The sheer, overwhelming kinetic force launched them through the air like broken dolls, their spines shattering on impact.
Panic completely overtook the center of the bandit horde as the massive ice golem began to slowly, methodically crush them to death.
But Aerion wasn't finished. He shifted his golden eyes upward, targeting the stone balconies where the rogue mages were casting their spells.
Summon Flame Atronach. Dual Cast.
Two brilliant, blinding pillars of superheated, roaring fire violently erupted directly onto the stone balconies behind the rogue mages. From the flames, two sleek, hovering, feminine entities forged of pure, crackling plasma and blackened iron armor materialized.
The Flame Atronachs did not hesitate. They twirled gracefully in the air, hurling condensed fireballs directly into the backs of the rogue mages. The Dunmer who had been burning the shield wall shrieked in agony as a fireball detonated against his spine, sending him plummeting over the balcony to crash heavily into the courtyard below, his robes entirely engulfed in flames.
"Push!" Aeloria roared, seeing the enemy ranks completely shattered by the summoned artillery. She drove her blazing axe through the chest of a heavily armored marauder, kicking his corpse off her blade.
With the Frost Atronach devastating the center and the Flame Atronachs counter sniping the balconies, Aerion finally stepped fully through the shattered gates and entered the courtyard.
"Lydia, hold the rear," Aerion commanded smoothly.
He raised his right hand. The time for tactical summons was over, the time for absolute destruction had arrived.
He targeted a massive cluster of twenty bandits desperately trying to flank Uthgerd's position on the left.
Chain Lightning.
A blinding, violent, jagged bolt of purple electricity erupted from his palm. The sheer voltage of the Destruction spell was powerful. The lightning struck the lead bandit in the chest, instantly vaporizing his heart, before violently arcing to the man next to him, and the next, and the next. The high voltage electricity chained through fifteen consecutive targets in a fraction of a millisecond.
The bandits didn't even have time to scream. Their nervous systems were instantly, completely overloaded, their muscles locking up as they collapsed into the dirt, smoke pouring from their ears.
The battle was turning into a one sided slaughter, but the sheer volume of the enemy meant chaos still reigned.
From the shadows near the armory, a rogue cryomancer desperately hurled a massive, jagged Ice Spike across the courtyard. It bypassed the chaotic melee perfectly.
The condensed shard of ice slammed violently into the shoulder of a young mercenary standing next to Sinmir, punching cleanly through the gaps in his steel pauldron and burying itself deep into his collarbone.
The mercenary let out a blood curdling scream, dropping his sword and falling to his knees, the freezing magic instantly beginning to aggressively necrotize the flesh around the wound.
"Man down!" Sinmir bellowed, stepping over the fallen youth and desperately bashing a bandit away with his shield to protect him.
Aerion saw the injury. He saw the rapidly spreading frostbite that would undoubtedly claim the boy's life within minutes.
He didn't run to the mercenary. He didn't need to.
Aerion dropped the lightning from his right hand. He slammed both of his palms together, tapping into the absolute zenith of his Restoration spell.
Grand Healing.
A massive, blindingly radiant sphere of pure, concentrated holy life force violently erupted from Aerion's body. The golden shockwave swept entirely across the bloody, mud churned courtyard, washing over every single warrior wearing the colors of his estate.
The effect was miraculous.
As the golden light hit the fallen mercenary, the massive, jagged ice spike buried in his shoulder instantly, violently sublimated into harmless steam. The torn muscles, shattered bone, and necrotized tissue rapidly, aggressively knit back together. The man gasped, his eyes flying open as the agonizing pain entirely vanished.
He looked down at his shoulder. The flesh was flawless, unblemished, there's no big hole in his steel armor anymore, like the proof of the near fatal strike was gone.
Across the line, the terrible burns on the two mercenaries who had been hit by the fire magic completely disappeared. Bruises faded, fatigue was instantly eradicated, and stamina pools were entirely restored.
The mercenaries felt the massive surge of divine energy. They looked back toward the High Elf standing calmly in the center of the carnage, his hands glowing with holy light, and their morale skyrocketed into the stratosphere.
They weren't just fighting for a patron who paid well. They were fighting for an overpowered arch mage who actively refused to let them die.
"For the Thane!" the mercenary roared, scrambling back to his feet, snatching his sword from the mud, and charging back into the fray with absolute, fanatical devotion.
"Break them!" Sinmir bellowed, his broadsword a blur of steel.
The combined psychological and physical shock of the unkillable mercenaries, the towering Frost Atronach, and the devastating arcane artillery was simply too much for the bandit syndicate to endure.
Their morale completely, utterly shattered.
The remaining bandits threw down their weapons in absolute terror. They abandoned the courtyard, scrambling desperately over the bodies of their fallen comrades, sprinting for the heavy, iron reinforced wooden doors that led into the deep, subterranean interior keeps of Fort Greymoor.
The heavy doors slammed shut behind them, the loud, echoing clack of heavy iron deadbolts sliding into place ringing across the courtyard.
The courtyard was entirely cleared.
The immediate silence that fell over the fortress was deafening, broken only by the heavy, ragged breathing of the mercenaries, the crackling of the magical fires, and the heavy, grinding footsteps of the Frost Atronach slowly patrolling the bloody dirt.
Aeloria stood in the center of the carnage, her heavy steel armor coated in blood and soot. She lowered the Axe of Morthal, leaning heavily against the haft, panting heavily as the adrenaline began to slowly recede.
Sinmir marched through the lines, rapidly checking his men.
"Report!" Sinmir barked.
"Battered, Captain, but breathing!" Uthgerd grinned fiercely, wiping a streak of blood from her cheek.
Sinmir looked at the mercenary whose shoulder had been impaled. The man was perfectly fine, vibrating with adrenaline. The captain turned to Aerion, his scarred face filled with profound, unadulterated awe.
"Zero casualties, Patron," Sinmir reported, his voice thick with absolute respect. "The courtyard is entirely ours. The remaining rats have barricaded themselves in the interior keep."
Aerion stood in the center of the courtyard, his dark robes entirely untouched by the mud or the blood.
He slowly lowered his hands, dismissing the massive Atronachs back to the void of Oblivion with a silent thought. He looked at the heavy, locked wooden doors of the inner keep. "Let them cower in the dark for a moment," Aerion commanded smoothly, his golden eyes cold and victorious. "Catch your breath, bind your armor, and secure the perimeter. We have taken the walls. Now, we take the inner castle."
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 630/630 Stamina: 660/660 Magicka: 830/830
Level: 172
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+3)/Lightning(+2)/Frost(+1)) (Level 97/0/84), Restoration (Healing(+1)/Purify(+2)) (Level 79/50), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/38), Persuasion(+1) (Level 89), Smithing (Level 57), Sneak(+1) (Level 0), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor(+1) (Level 50), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii (Fade Spirit), Su (Air), & Laas (Life)
[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, 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, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, & Dwarven Shield
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: 94.21 KG / 630 KG
Septims: 81,582