The result was currently tearing into Ulfric Stormcloak, laughing like a madman as the fruits of all those dragons killed, all those Words of Power his Forsworn had diligently scoured Skyrim for, copying down the strange markings and bringing them back to him, finally ripened. Ulfric didn't stand a chance. Between the brutally fast axe blows, flame cloak, and Madanach's beloved Dawnbreaker leaving fire in its wake, it was all over far too soon for Madanach's liking. Ulfric fell to his knees, bleeding from a thousand cuts, his housecarl Galmar already having fallen to Borkul's axe, with Kaie and Uraccen's magic as backup.
He looked up, seeing Madanach standing over him, pulling off that Forsworn headdress and finally letting Ulfric see his face clearly. Older, harder, a few new scars, but still recognisably the man whose hate-filled eyes had glared at him as they'd hauled him off to prison. He wasn't glaring now, quite the reverse.
“Any last words, Stormcloak?” Madanach laughed, passing his axe off to Braig and transferring Dawnbreaker to his right hand as his flame cloak sputtered out.
“You're the damn Dragonborn,” Ulfric gasped, knowing his strength was failing and his cause was lost. For the gods to give the dragon blood to the Witch-King who didn't even believe in the Eight Divines and certainly didn't follow Talos was a cruel, cruel irony.
“Yes,” Madanach replied, still sounding as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. Ulfric just shook his head, laughing to himself.
“The wuldsetiid makes fools of us all,” Ulfric gasped, every breath a trial now and yet he treasured them all. They'd likely be his last. “Go on then, Witch-King. Give me a death to sing about.”
“We will dance after yours has ended, I promise you that,” Madanach growled, swinging Dawnbreaker down in one flowing motion, ending both a life and a war in one move.
“Now what, boss?” Borkul asked, staring down at the ex-Jarl of Windhelm.
“Get this mess cleared up, this city must have a Hall of the Dead somewhere,” Madanach yawned. He'd been fighting for hours and was feeling his age. “I want guards on patrol tonight, although I doubt anyone's going to be leaving their house until sunrise. Uraccen, get the prisoners to the cells. Let's see what sort of city Ulfric's been running here. From what our Dunmer friends have been telling me, I have a feeling we have a tough job ahead of us. And someone get some fire runes cast on the walls, this place is freezing.”
As the massed Forsworn set to work, Madanach sat back in Ulfric's throne and closed his eyes, feeling rather pleased with himself. The Nords had taken his lands? He'd take theirs. Madanach ap Caradach, Jarl of Windhelm. It had a pleasing ring to it. It was just a pity his new city was so damn cold...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took two weeks for the Legion to respond and lay siege to the newly-conquered city. It took a further five days of protracted negotiations and Imperial observers making sure Madanach was not actually slaughtering the citizens of Windhelm for his own entertainment, and aside from having had Calixto Corrium impaled on a stake in front of the Palace of Kings and left to die for nearly two days (would have been more but people were complaining about the screaming) (and after testimony from Viola Giordano, Brunwulf Free-Winter and Belyn Hlaalu regarding the evidence found in Corrium's home and in an abandoned house in the west of the city, the Imperial officers investigating found it hard to really fault Madanach's judgement there), there was really very little to complain about regarding his custodianship of the city. Madanach had even adopted two young orphan children living rough in the city, and Sofie and Aventus ap Madanach were said to be doing very well and loving their new father and his impressive illusion magic and bloodthirsty stories.
Re: Season Unending's End 1.3
He looked up, seeing Madanach standing over him, pulling off that Forsworn headdress and finally letting Ulfric see his face clearly. Older, harder, a few new scars, but still recognisably the man whose hate-filled eyes had glared at him as they'd hauled him off to prison. He wasn't glaring now, quite the reverse.
“Any last words, Stormcloak?” Madanach laughed, passing his axe off to Braig and transferring Dawnbreaker to his right hand as his flame cloak sputtered out.
“You're the damn Dragonborn,” Ulfric gasped, knowing his strength was failing and his cause was lost. For the gods to give the dragon blood to the Witch-King who didn't even believe in the Eight Divines and certainly didn't follow Talos was a cruel, cruel irony.
“Yes,” Madanach replied, still sounding as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. Ulfric just shook his head, laughing to himself.
“The wuldsetiid makes fools of us all,” Ulfric gasped, every breath a trial now and yet he treasured them all. They'd likely be his last. “Go on then, Witch-King. Give me a death to sing about.”
“We will dance after yours has ended, I promise you that,” Madanach growled, swinging Dawnbreaker down in one flowing motion, ending both a life and a war in one move.
“Now what, boss?” Borkul asked, staring down at the ex-Jarl of Windhelm.
“Get this mess cleared up, this city must have a Hall of the Dead somewhere,” Madanach yawned. He'd been fighting for hours and was feeling his age. “I want guards on patrol tonight, although I doubt anyone's going to be leaving their house until sunrise. Uraccen, get the prisoners to the cells. Let's see what sort of city Ulfric's been running here. From what our Dunmer friends have been telling me, I have a feeling we have a tough job ahead of us. And someone get some fire runes cast on the walls, this place is freezing.”
As the massed Forsworn set to work, Madanach sat back in Ulfric's throne and closed his eyes, feeling rather pleased with himself. The Nords had taken his lands? He'd take theirs. Madanach ap Caradach, Jarl of Windhelm. It had a pleasing ring to it. It was just a pity his new city was so damn cold...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took two weeks for the Legion to respond and lay siege to the newly-conquered city. It took a further five days of protracted negotiations and Imperial observers making sure Madanach was not actually slaughtering the citizens of Windhelm for his own entertainment, and aside from having had Calixto Corrium impaled on a stake in front of the Palace of Kings and left to die for nearly two days (would have been more but people were complaining about the screaming) (and after testimony from Viola Giordano, Brunwulf Free-Winter and Belyn Hlaalu regarding the evidence found in Corrium's home and in an abandoned house in the west of the city, the Imperial officers investigating found it hard to really fault Madanach's judgement there), there was really very little to complain about regarding his custodianship of the city. Madanach had even adopted two young orphan children living rough in the city, and Sofie and Aventus ap Madanach were said to be doing very well and loving their new father and his impressive illusion magic and bloodthirsty stories.