Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale
Chapter 516 - CXXIX: A Hunt In The Wild

Chapter 516: Chapter CXXIX: A Hunt In The Wild

Give thine due praise to the ascendant Jacob Rich and Miakaru, whomst have in their infinite wisdom dragged themselves up from the pits, and unto the lightl.

On a completely unrelated note, today’s soup might turn out particularly chunky.

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(Reyvin’s POV)

The city of Arenthia was already being overrun by the time I slowly lowered myself to the ground, the limp body of the Altmer mage hanging in my grip and drawing the horrified looks of many of the high elves still in positions to observe me while their comrades died in droves.

Those very gazes turned downright numb when I simply tossed the poor idiot away like so much wet rag and used the now freed hand to summon a cigar and take a long drag, the sensation made all the more pleasant by the delectable impotent fury I could taste in the air.

Just as I began marching to the gate now broken by the eager Nords, Umbra’s form blurred right next to me, her blade pristine despite the air of death surrounding her "Had fun?" I ask without facing her.

Her irritated decapitation of the mage I yoinked as he tried crawling away was all the answer I’d need, even if she did surprise me by actually responding "They are too weak."

"Or maybe I simply made you too strong" I smirked cheekily at the murder happy statue and started walking once more "Come on then, the rest will join us soon enough and I always was curious about Bosmeri architecture." Or how it crumbled went unsaid.

The automaton did not bother answering, but she did fall in behind me as told.

-

The gate of the large manor complex serving as the local Thalmor command center buckled inwards as the shade of Karstaag whacked it with a big fancy hammer I made, the rest of my shadowy goon squad rushing inside and butchering the terrified high elves within, Umbra languidly strolling after them with her sword shouldered.

"It is a good thing they did not bring their families here." Savos, who had joined me in the meantime as he no longer needed to hide amongst the artillery, comments "Playing host to them would have been rather awkward."

"Keeping them from simply getting disappeared you mean." I snort "We should have sent all the Nords to Elsweyr, far smaller number of Altmer or their supporters there."

He hums in agreement as we both enter the complex "True." He mutters "However I still feel the familiarity the troops have with you is too big of an advantage to simply give up on. The fresh legion from Skyrim or the ones from Cyrodiil would probably not react very well to you simply erasing entire forests on a whim."

"That little shit Jephre* started it." I snort "Should have just let me subjugate his chosen people in peace."

He too makes an amused noise, not one whit surprised I was more than willing to talk shit directly to a god’s face "Quite. However I still feel like you are escalating things to a breaking point again."

"Hey, I didn’t want to initially." I stress the last word "But the rat bastard decided to start blessing all the damn Bosmer in the forest, and just letting him do that like a good little mortal was simply not in the books for me."

"And ruining a forest was the most expedient way of doing that?" He quirks an eyebrow, pausing his questioning as we enter the chambers of the Thalmor Justiciar in charge of the local populace, said elf currently strewn across the floor with a large gash across his neck.

"Don’t give me that look, I can already feel Kyne pouting at me from all the way in Aetherius." I grumble as I step over the pile of shit on the floor "Y’ffre is like most the other gods rather spread out and limited in what he can effectively do to influence the world."

"Meaning he needs a medium, yes." Savos follows along "So what you did-"

"-was simply remove the medium." I nod sagely "Truly, if you are not solving your problems with fire, you are simply not using enough."

He shakes his head and chuckles "Such wisdom do I rarely hear."

"Well then" I pause, feeling devious once more "Since you are in such need of wisdom, go ahead and look for the correspondence at your leisure, I will go and provide overwatch for the army."

He deadpans "You just want to see the city burn."

"I am not that bad." I most definitely did not whine.

He just rolls his eyes and shoos me away, summoning a couple of Dremora to help him in his task.

Which is how I find myself ascending the tree-manor the Bosmeri tree huggers somehow managed to make look actually seemly and not like yet another one of their shitty little luddite hovels.

I pause just before opening the door that led to a large balcony overlooking the city "Holdup, am I actually that biased against them?"

"You only noticed that now pops?" Scorch deadpans as he materializes atop my shoulder.

"Oh do get off my back" I scoff and push the door open "Imagine expecting actual civilization from a bunch of tree worshippers."

And what delightful civilization it was once one’s eyes were opened. A perfect blend of stone and tree somehow flowing into each other to make a seamlessly bound crossing between the two, wide and well ordered streets bordered on many ends by gardens as often as homes or open air forums of some sort or another.

It was too bad I knew for certain this was all just because Arenthia was practically in Cyrodiil geographically and not at all due to Bosmer civility.

Rolling my eyes at my reinforced disdain for an entire people, I cupped my chin, eyes absently following the thousands of soldiers swarming the entire city as the Thalmor made a fighting retreat to the southern gatehouse, their numbers dwindling rapidly as the city held some ten thousand troops tops and they were trying to fight off three whole legions.

The rest were likely stationed beyond the Bosmeri camps, waiting to serve as battle reserves once we were drawn into a prolonged battle.

"That is what you get when you bank it all on a single plan." I mutter with narrowed eyes, seeing an Altmer chucklefuck setting an entire district on fire to cover their retreat.

"Yes, yes, very cool pops." Scorch bobs his head sarcastically "Can I go eat them now?"

In lieu of an answer, I simply teleport him atop the Thalmor arsonist, the insane fucking bird cheering loudly as he pounced on the poor woman who now had to learn to walk blind.

Well, at least she wouldn’t be blind for long.

"Now then" I mutter oh so thoughtfully and scan the battlefield once more, Surge appearing in my free hand "How about we wrap this whole thing up."

By the time I lowered my staff, and the final unit of Thalmor I did not deem worthy of my personal attention rode out of the southern gate, I was almost feeling sorry for my enemies.

It was after all really difficult to keep to your pride and honor and fight on while searing ash formed inside your lungs.

My usual bodyguard detail returned then, all of them completely spotless and escorting a messenger from Tullius who quickly informed me that the local civilian leadership had all been rounded up and were being gathered in the city hall.

"Should have made the fun part last longer." I pouted as I marched once more to deal with fucking politics.

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(General POV)

A mixed unit of legionaries clad in Solitude plate marched cautiously across the field of ash now dominating Arenthia’s west, their steps speaking of caution while many of their gazes were filled with awe instead.

Seeing a map get repainted in real time was a rare event, even on Nirn.

Arenthia had fallen a full day earlier and the people were mostly pacified, leaving a large number of the soldiers with not much to do but drill and patrol as they couldn’t chase after the Thalmor through the obviously hostile forest without moving out in force.

It was one of such patrols going missing that had the veterans of Kynesgrove marching out of the city’s relative comfort with orders to look for their lost comrades.

"This is their last position then?" Legate Zarok asked the Telvanni next to him, the orc clad in heavy imperial plate looking rather angry that it was his unit that was handpicked to chase after the ambushers.

Someone had to have out for him, he was certain of it.

The spindly elf directed him with a look that said all he needed to know about her opinion on his entire kind, but did answer the question "This is where they were last seen, yes." Her voice was completely without emotion as she too was dragged out of bed for this "I detect signs of a struggle in the air but something is obscuring my sight."

"Great" The orc growled "So we are going in blind." He ignored the Telvanni’s utter lack of care for his concern and turned to his unit "Tagan, do you see anything?"

The shortest member of his cohort steps out with a sly expression on his Bosmeri face "What, just because my ma’ was from this shithole I’m supposed to know how to navigate it?"

Zarok leaned in threateningly "Yes."

"Fair enough" The elf shrugged and focused on the forest, giving it a good ten seconds before speaking up once again "Aye, I can see some scuff marks on those trees over yonder." He points far into the distance "Someone got dragged off that a way."

"So they entered the forest." Zarok’s face twitches "Great."

"Probably a trap, boss." The Bosmer pipes in.

The orc grunts "I am aware." He sighs before straightening up and squaring his shoulders "Cohort, form up!" Expression grim, he leads his men into the forest even as his blood begins to pump in excitement.

And then the chanting began.

Soon followed by the smell of blood.

Rivers of it, if his nose was not lying to him.

The soldiers of the cohort shuffled uncomfortably as the noise grows louder and louder with each step, the Telvanni mage looking increasingly pale until she finally raised a hand and shouted "Stop!"

Zarok very nearly ignored her as his blood urged him to face the upcoming challenge, but he had learned to trust the intuition of mages over the years and turned to face her "What is it?"

Unfortunately, all the woman could get out at that point was a pained gurgle, as a trio of arrows now stuck out from her throat.

Zarok immediately roared "Ambush!" And grabbed onto his weapons, unsheathing the paired axes just in time to parry a lunging wood elf clad in leather armor and antlered headdress, and bury his offhand in his gut.

He headbutted the screaming fool, bringing his weapons up once more and cutting the hand of another Bosmer who was gunning for Tagan, the loyalist wood elf just barely twitching back far enough to buy the orc time to save him.

The other legionaries, veterans all, faired well, but over two dozen were still dead by the time their ambushers began their retreat further into the forest, the Nords and few orcs in the formation barely managing to reign themselves in from rushing after them.

"Check the wounded" Zarok ordered and leaned over to the still twitching mage, ripping the arrows out of her without a care for the pain he caused her, he poured his sole regeneration potion in the open wound, making it close up rapidly as the woman gasped.

"Damn- barbarian" She coughed as she was dragged up, very nearly stumbling as she was let free and hissing at her rescuer "Do you get off on torturing people?"

Zarok growled and leaned into her face, reminding her of just how much larger and currently more dangerous he was "The words you are looking for are ’thank you for saving my ass, Legate, sir.’ Now shut up and stay in formation. We are going after them."

If he were able to see from his back, he would see the Dunmer mage shivering, and not in fear.

He barked out more orders, satisfied to learn seven of his comrades were saved with a rapid application of potions, and led his troops further into the woods.

Not even for one moment did the chanting slow.

By the time they passed a small bend in the narrow woodland path, the smell of blood had turned utterly overwhelming, and Zarok’s whole cohort was almost relieved as they came upon their foe.

The wood elves fell in droves as the legionaries showered them in javelins, no doubt having expected the legionaries to retreat or take their time reordering themselves after an ambush they were not prepared for their dogged pursuit.

Those who were not immediately cut down fled further in, and drew the cohort into a large opening, where even more Bosmer clad in shamanistic robes and fetishes chanted around a large pool of blood, their lips bloody and their feet surrounded by even bloodier legion armor.

Just as Zarok stepped into the open, eyes increasingly bloodshot at what he saw, the pool of blood in the middle of the clearing began to bubble up, and the air was charged with a dark presence.

The crowd of elves turned silent, and fast as a shadow, a large beast stepped out from within.

Its hands were clawed in bone, its face the elongated skull of a dear crested by imposing antlers. Blackened fur hid the rest of it from sight, but not to the extent that one would miss the fact the creature was built like a slender version of a particularly tall troll.

Every single aspect of the creature looked to be built to kill and terrify.

But the legionaries once dragged from Solitude’s slums had experienced far worse than a mere beast from the nightmares of the Bosmer, and as one roared out in fury, throwing their secondary javelins at the gathered wood elves without mercy and nailing many of them into what remained of the corpses of the cohort the filthy cannibals had devoured.

The beast reacted quickly to Zarok’s own weapon, the axe spinning through the air merely clipping one of its antlers instead of ramming itself into its head as it leaped away, moving just barely fast enough that a mortal eye could still perceive it.

Then it disappeared from sight, its natural camouflage allowing it to move across the battlefield and only reappear as it gored a Nord legionary who had just finished stabbing a wailing Bosmer through an artery he knew would make him die in agony.

Another legionary, a Dunmer this time, blasted the beast with a wave of fire, but it merely threw itself on all fours, crawling rapidly towards the offending elf with murder in its eyes as it grabbed onto his leg and promptly disemboweled him with its teeth.

Through his steel armor.

Five more legionaries died in increasingly gruesome ways as the beast painted itself red in their blood before Zarok managed to reach it, the axe he had thrown leaping back into his grip as he slammed both enchanted weapons into the creature’s hide.

Or at least, he attempted to.

Its claws flashed out, batting one of his weapons out of the way while its neck twisted as an owl’s would, allowing it to bite into the orc’s forearm and nearly rip the hand off if not for the spike of steel that nearly struck it in the eye, the projectile bouncing off its skeletal face as it flinched away.

Zarok did not bother thanking his savior as he allowed the rage in his blood to take hold and roared in berserk fury, his axes blurring after the flinching figure and burying themselves into its hide.

And yet for all his strength, the creature looked to be far too resilient to slay in a few strikes, and an orcs rage potent as it was would never be renowned for its staying power.

His blurring strikes, and the Telvanni mage’s spells wounded the beast but solely on its surface, the blood leaking off it already hardening over the wounds as it began to overpower the orc’s flagging strength.

A sudden swing followed his final strike into the beast’s side, and he felt his helm crumple and cheek nearly be ripped off as its claws made contact with his face, the pain serving to jolt him awake and out of his rage just long enough to see the creature loom over him, ready to rip him to pieces.

Except, just as it leapt at him, a distantly familiar glaive slammed into its throat, the blast of crimson lightning throwing it back and away as the imposing form of Dagoth’s bodyguard rushed after it, eyes aglow with power.

The creature growled in pain, immediately focusing on the new attacker as it rushed forward in an attempt to gore him.

And right into the path of a swinging greatsword, as a second automaton appeared on the battlefield, cutting into the beast’s face with such ease, a small part of Zarok felt offended.

The taller automaton gave the still ongoing duel one last look and turned away, strolling over to the orc and speaking in a disdainful if bored tone "Are these all the barbarians you managed to find, meatbag?"

"So far" Zarok grunted as he chugged down a lesser healing potion "Looks to be the entire missing cohort as well." His face screamed at him in pain as he scowled but his anger was far beyond his good sense at the moment.

"Very well." The automaton nodded "Clean up and ready to move back to the city. My Master will want to know what you saw."

"Right" The orc gave his comrades a quick look and found that most of them were fine as the beast did not get to them and the Bosmer were a bunch of pathetic worshippers instead of warriors "And what abou-" He went to ask but realized the automaton had disappeared in his moment of distraction.

Completely unsurprised, he looked to the still ongoing battle, if it could even be called that as he saw the new automaton simply slap away the beast’s desperate claw slash before slowly, agonizingly sinking its sword into its groin, and then dragging the sword upwards.

The orc then enjoyed a full minute of complete bliss as he listened to the horned fucker’s pained whimpers before it was bifurcated.

Such was his enjoyment in fact, that he did not notice as Akulakhan appeared next to him again, what looked to be the most elaborately dressed Bosmer of the bunch slung over his shoulder "Get to work, meatbag."

And so he did, ensuring no wood elf save for those under his command still lived as they gathered up any and all identifying marks of the slain and devoured legionaries before they marched out of the forest, the lot of them feeling completely safe as the two automatons went with them.

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(Reyvin’s POV)

The report on public order I have been reading is carefully lowered to the desk I was sat at as a quintet of figures strolled into the study I had requisitioned off the very dead Justiciar "Junior, Umbra" I nodded at my creations and turned to the orc who now sported a fresh facial scar "...And Zarok, long time no see you little shit."

The wood elf clad in legion armor choked on air at my address, and the Telvanni that entered with them looked like she withered a bit at not being named as the orc was.

Maybe she should have tried not being a middling diviner and healer well into her second century if she wanted attention then, the fucking slacker.

"Sir" The orc saluted, obviously not wanting to listen to my bullshit "There was an incident."

"And this was not forwarded to Tullius... why?" I quirk an eyebrow.

"A magical incident." He corrects with a grunt.

’Well, that explains why both Umbra and Junior are here’ I mentally shrugged and straightened in my seat "You have my curiosity."

One very bloody explanation later.

"Hmm" I cupped my chin as I leaned back into my seat "Didn’t think he would react that aggressively. But I do suppose it makes sense to go all out..."

"Sir?" Zarok asks.

"The Wild Hunt" I answered, voice raised from its previous mutter "A Bosmer sacrificial ritual in tribute of Y’ffre involving a lot of cannibalism as you’ve no doubt come to learn." The three mortals in the room blanch to differing degrees "Lets them transform themselves into powerful beasts." I went on "You got very lucky."

Zarok’s face warps into a frown "How?"

"A proper Wild Hunt usually involves an entire horde being formed, or so I have read" I explain "That you managed to get there before the ritual could truly get underway speaks of either good decision making or immense dumb luck."

He merely grunts.

"Your Grace." The Telvanni speaks up hesitantly.

Turning away from the orc I face the Dunmer "Spellwright?"

"Cera Aerys, Your Grace" She introduces herself "I was wondering if you would permit me access to the beast’s carcass, I-"

I raise a hand "You can have it after my preliminary examination so long as the Legate here agrees. I have neither the time nor inclination to research the phenomenon at the moment and I sincerely doubt this is the last one Jephre is going to throw at us."

She stiffens at the god name drop but still remembers to bow her head in gratitude a moment later.

But would I really be myself if I didn’t ruin it for her immediately? "Do note Zarok that the carcass is rather valuable, so do be sure to not give it up for free."

The poor Telvanni woman looks at me with pure betrayal in her eyes while the orc merely snorts. He’d have probably called me a cunt directly to my face if he didn’t think his Nord friends would lynch him for the act.

"And you" I point at the Bosmer, all the while scrying him for potential betrayal and finding nothing "I know the Empire had Bosmer in its ranks but which idiot got it into their head to drag you here while we attack Valenwood?"

The short elf shrugs "Was born in Skyrim, da’ was a Nord so I don’t really care about this damp ass scrotum of Tamriel."

Blinking at the blunt statement, I let out a snort and shake my head "Well, so long as you don’t share your kinsfolk’s dietary habits, I frankly do not care."

"M’lord, I am a vegetarian." The fucking Bosmer deadpans.

My howls of laughter quickly made the legionaries shuffle out in fear.

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*Y’ffre’s more cosmopolitan name.

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