Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale
Chapter 517 - CXXX: The Woodland March

Chapter 517: Chapter CXXX: The Woodland March

The instant the trio left the study, my amused expression shifted and darkened, giving way to pure, unfiltered disgust "An entire cohort, eaten like cattle..." I scowl.

Scorch pops into reality atop the table of his own will "Should have just burned the whole forest." He chirps merrily, even as I notice a hint of rage behind his eyes "Show the n’wahs exactly why they should keep their degeneracy to themselves."

"Tempting, very tempting." I hum, feeling my disgust slowly settle below the sea of apathy I usually felt for people who were not directly relevant to me "But escalating like that is why I have multiple Daedra in open war against me, and I should learn the damn lesson already."

"Coward" The bird of doom chirps.

I flick him in the beak, drawing a betrayed squeak from the little shit.

"The bird speaks true, descendant." The lantern sitting at the table’s edge lights up "You should burn this disgusting little forest and settle it with proper elves, not these near-humans playing at being their betters."

"And call it New Morrowind no doubt." My face flattens into a deadpan "The fact a small part of me wants to agree is mildly disturbing." _{free.w e bn.ov(e)l(.)com}

"Come over to the dark side" Scorch crows deeply "We have cookies."

"No" I flick him again "Bad war criminal."

"The checklist must be fulfilled!" He declares even as he recoils "Search your feelings, you know it to be true!"

I give the bird a dubious look but cannot help but notice my earlier anger had all but left me ’Smartass chicken.’ I roll my eyes and pat his head a bit too hard.

"Oi!"

I ignore the indignant little shit and keep patting, even as I see my Orb™ begin to pulsate with power and activate it with my free hand.

[Septim-Dagoth World Domination Bureau]

[Dragon Overlady: Riverhold is ours! Just got the smug little shit in charge of the garrison to call for a city-wide surrender.]

[Dragon Overlady: ...Also, world domination? Really?]

[Big D: What are we doing right now?]

[Dragon Overlady: Fighting a war to... unite... Tamriel...]

[Big D: Exactly!]

[Dragon Overlady: ...]

[Dragon Overlady: The mortals must never know.]

[Big D: My lips are sealed :P]

[Big D: Also, I took Arenthia a full day ago. Slowpoke.]

[Dragon Overlady: It isn’t my fault Julius wanted to take things slow!]

[Big D: Excuses, excuses.]

[Dragon Overlady: Oh please, you got Tullius. You probably didn’t have to do a thing.]

[Big D: ...No comment]

[Dragon Overlady: That man is so beyond the ponce leading my armies, it isn’t even funny.]

[Big D: Eh, Gracchus is a passable leader.]

[Dragon Overlady: Easy for you to say.]

[Big D: Exactly!]

[Dragon Overlady: Ass.]

[Big D: :)]

[Dragon Overlady: Anyway, how are things looking on your front?]

Heh, changing the topic are we? Another win for me!

[Big D: Got rid of two thirds of a Thalmor legion and a large chunk of their auxiliaries, turned their ambush against them. The new leader seems to be a bit smarter than the previous one and immediately started a retreat all the way to Silvenar.]

[Dragon Overlady: Isn’t that just delaying the inevitable?]

[Big D: This entire conflict is as far as the Dominion is concerned. But no, as much as I’d like to say things are going perfectly, the fact most of them escaped even with heavy casualties means I will have to slog through constant ambushes. And these Bosmer cunts are better at it than the Argonians will ever be.]

[Dragon Overlady: Suddenly I am feeling quite happy that I have to march through a desert.]

[Big D: Can’t have the dainty Septim get a rash in the forest, Divines forbid.]

[Dragon Overlady: Accurate.]

Chuckling to myself I send the following:

[Big D: You can go ahead and brag about your victory now.]

[Dragon Overlady: I have no idea what you are talking about.]

And then she proceeded to do exactly as I teased, in great and exhaustive detail.

[Big D: ...So the dragons can get soul fatigue...]

[Dragon Overlady: You already thought about it?]

[Big D: It makes perfect sense, nothing exists that is infinite in power or energy so there must be some kind of limit to their immortality.]

[Dragon Overlady: You say it almost like it is a good thing.]

[Big D: Because it really is. Useful as they are now you need to have some kind of way to threaten them that isn’t soul death or a timeout, Dovah are literally incapable of being bothered by the passage of time.]

[Dragon Overlady: So what? I just threaten to repeatedly kill and revive them in rapid succession if they don’t play nice?]

[Big D: I do so love it when you read my mind.]

I feel a mental shrug as she responds

[Dragon Overlady: Oh well, most of them are cunts so they deserve it.]

[Big D: And

you get to rub it in that they get to keep their souls at your mercy. A perfect win win for corralling them.]

[Dragon Overlady: Odahviing will probably be amused by the idea if anything.]

[Dragon Overlady: Torturing my siblings aside, Dune should fall within the week. With the new Bravil-Riverhold road your automatons are building our supply lines should be pretty much untouchable on both fronts.]

’Which was the main goal of the surprise offensive in the first place.’ I hum in satisfaction.

[Big D: Good. After you are done with that you should rush with all haste to Rimmen, if you capture the Mane and sprinkle enough propaganda, Khajiiti support for the Dominion will dry up overnight.]

[Dragon Overlady: That is the idea. Even if I feel it will not be that easy.]

[Big D: We need to use the Dominion’s confusion as much as we can while they are putting out fires back in Alinor. Ripping an entire province from their control would ensure our victory beyond any doubt.]

[Dragon Overlady: Doubt? Hah!]

"Oi, pops" Scorch chirps "More n’wahs coming to bother us."

"Of course." I grumble and return to the Orb™.

[Big D: I have to get going now, work to do and all that.]

[Dragon Overlady: I probably should as well...]

[Dragon Overlady: Stay safe out there.]

[Big D: You as well, and make sure to crack a few skulls for me. The more cuntish the Thalmor the better.]

[Dragon Overlady: As long as you do the same.]

Exactly as I put the Orb™ down, there is a knock on my door and a moment later a Whitecloak peeks into the room "Your Grace, the auxiliary reserve has just arrived at the gates of the city."

Nodding I say "I will be out in a minute."

He bows and closes the door.

Closing my eyes briefly, I allow myself a moment of peace and quiet, letting the small amount of mental fatigue building in my mind dissipate as if I had just taken a nap, before snapping them back open and standing up. There was work to be done.

-----

We marched out of Arenthia two full days later, the fresh reinforcements from Cyrodiil under Hassildor’s leadership taking hold of the city and the roads behind us we began our rapid advance south through Valenwood.

Only to rather swiftly be met with an unavoidable problem.

See, the roads to Arenthia were while still in complete disrepair, actually well built and relatively well maintained (in the past few centuries at least) which meant the forest and overgrowth didn’t quite get to overtake all of it just yet.

That was most assuredly not the case for the road leading south.

Oh there was certainly enough room for merchants to pass through, even if they would always be at risk of fucking their carts up at the slightest misalignment. A legion though?

Good fucking luck with that.

Every step we took was followed by some kind of problem arising within the ranks, anything between simple accidents, to overturned supplies, to patrols disappearing in the night, and as if that wasn’t enough, my prediction proved itself true a mere two days into our advance.

Bosmeri raiding parties, joined periodically by small groups of transformed beasts kept nipping at our metaphorical ankles whenever they could get an attack in, usually moving in from multiple directions so as to keep our most powerful mages from simply blocking their way.

That they were willing to throw away hundreds of lives for every attack was morbidly impressive.

That it worked was insulting.

So insulting in fact, that I quickly went "fuck it", and decided to stop playing by the book.

I teleported back to Arenthia, and promptly cursed a path through the forest, expanding the roadway considerably before abusing my ridiculous Magicka reserves to rise condensed stone roads and fortified campsites, stationing garrisons of fresh troops to guard the way back as I did.

And ’just like that’ the enemy strategy crumbled, their slow creeping surround of my army losing its bite as any kind of attempt at cutting us off and starving us out was made to be impossible by my presence.

With a renewed vigor, my forces reached the lake town of Greenhill early on the fifth day of our march, resulting in another quick siege that turned into open battle as a few Bosmeri cohorts disobeyed the orders of their Thalmor overseers and rushed at our flanks to help the beleaguered defenders.

Tullius immediately deployed the Whiterun cavalry and while they did cut the wood elven skirmishers down like so much grass, the Thalmor General, whom I had scried to be named Elandol, used the momentary opening in our lines to send his magi to punish the push, killing many of the Nords in a sudden bombardment.

None of said mages managed to escape as they were swiftly shown just how irritating they made themselves by yours truly.

Elandol evidently saw he would gain no advantage here, and once more decided on a retreat, my sight allowing me to sense the growing discontent in his ranks as he once more turned his back to us.

He would have to face us in force next time, or he risked losing control of his army.

And likely his neck, if one considered how these coups usually went.

Greenhill was fully occupied mere hours later, and I once more went to work overfortifying the place and cursing it with enough power that Y’ffre the fucking meddler couldn’t do as he wanted.

Then came the routine pacification, meeting with the locals, assuring them that no we were not about to enslave or devour them (That the latter was considered a real possibility by the dumbfuck almost made me consider what should not be considered again)

The evening came and I was just admiring my own foresight as I observed the local architecture, or the lack thereof as everything was a fucking treehouse with not even a rock in sight, when a my Orb™ shone once again.

[Former Paper Pusher: Reyvin, get over here!]

[Big D: What is it?]

[Former Paper Pusher: You are going to want to see this, trust me on this.]

Frowning, and momentarily concerned, I activated my Sight fully, scanning the entire region before centering in on Savos’ position some three hours away from Greenhill, quickly finding him to be staring down a group of elves that felt to be appreciably magically capable Bosmer with a unit of my Sworn Mer on his side alongside a squad of Dremora Lords.

’Sympathizers, outcasts, or interesting enemies?’ I wondered, even as I cast the teleportation spell.

The first thing I noticed as I appeared next to my grandfather was the settlement behind the oddly tall spearwall of Bosmer. Namely the fact that it was surrounded by a proper stone wall and did was not made up of a bunch of treehouses like the rest of them.

In fact, the buildings looked to be distantly familiar to something I had seen not too long before now...

My gaze moved from the small town and to the elves worriedly pointing their spears at us, their leader a particularly well armed and armored specimen carrying an elaborate looking glaive.

His good choices aside, my eyes narrowed as I got a better look at their faces, builds, and outifts. They were definitely elves, but they were also taller and felt more magically potent than most Bosmer I had seen so far, even their skin tone seemed to be somewhat lighter than the rest of their kind... And they were actually armored in proper steel and moonstone.

Hold on.

Taller than wood elf? Check.

Human skin tone? Check.

Decent Magicka even in the non-magi? Check.

Armor, weapons, and architecture I had seen before? Check.

"Well, well, well" I clapped my hands slowly, drawing the immediate attention of everyone present, and then their fear as I allowed my magic to be felt in the air "You were certainly right gramps, this is interesting."

Because I was currently not looking at a rogue group of Bosmer soldiers that had escaped our battle, but a town militia made up of its Ayleid residents.

-----------

Give moi un roque.

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