A hand clasped my shoulder. Half-turning, my hand dropping to my sword I saw Lydia, streams of water running over the wrought metal of her armour. She screamed something at me but I couldn't hear it over the crash of thunder reverberating through the sky. I frowned at her and she gestured to the battlements of the city walls, where the militia clustered under their cloaks. Oh right, they can't shoot. I began backing off towards the gate as the Stormcloaks began their advance, Lydia leading the way. At the gate, after Lydia and I had climbed through the barricade, I turned back and Shouted again, "LOK VAH KOOR." With a soft whumph the darkness overhead was hurled to the heavens above, dissipating and leaving clear blue skies. My ears popped and the torrential rain stopped instantly. A cry went up from the battlements as the Whiterun militia unfurled their raincloaks revealing their bows and began firing at the Stormcloak soldiers pouring up the ramp, now deprived of most of their long range support and vulnerable to the rain of arrows. Those that managed to make it up the ramp and over the barricade were met by the fiercely disciplined ranks of the Imperial Legion, formed into a unmoving shield wall, spears bristling.
The clash of steel behind me caught my attention. A party of Stormcloaks had scaled the slope of the motte and were trying to mount a assault on the Jarl. The Companions and Irileth were already in the fray and I rushed to join them, battle lust stirring my blood. A Stormcloak soldier charged me, greataxe raised and I ducked under the arc of his cut and his arm, emerging behind him. It was an easy stab to the gap between his helm and gorget; an instant kill. More attacked and Lydia stepped up beside me, the two of us working in partnership.
I don't know how long the battle lasted, or how many fell to my sword. In the end the battle for Whiterun turned out to be a massacre. Stormcloak bodies covered the path to the city, blood turn-ing the soil and stone red. The priests and priestesses moved over the battlefield, tending to the wounded. More than a few Imperial and militia had been killed but Whiterun was finally safe.
For the moment.
In the distance the bedraggled survivors, almost all of them injured, dragged Galmar Stone-Fist back towards Windhelm. He had fought like a fiend, reforming the Stormcloak's shield wall and leading his men in one last rally until he took a spear thrust to his leg and his troops had dragged him back from the wall. Irileth had wanted to pursue them but the Jarl had ordered her back. We picked our way back to the city gate, trying not to look down as our feet slipped on the gore underfoot and trod on soft yielding flesh. My hand was still locked round my sword hilt and my muscles trembled and ached with exhaustion. At the gates the Jarl made his speech, pulling Irileth, the Legate, the Harbinger and myself onto the scaffolding with him. Not a word sank in as I gazed out over the exhausted and bloody faces of the soldiers, I was too tired. Everything faded; the cheers from the soldiers became a muffled roar that echoed with my heartbeat and my vision blurred. Dimly I was aware of people speaking to me and a gentle hand on my shoulder guiding me home.
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timeasmymeasure
Call of the Blood 2.3/?
Date: 2013-06-25 02:08 pm (UTC)Oh right, they can't shoot.
I began backing off towards the gate as the Stormcloaks began their advance, Lydia leading the way. At the gate, after Lydia and I had climbed through the barricade, I turned back and Shouted again, "LOK VAH KOOR."
With a soft whumph the darkness overhead was hurled to the heavens above, dissipating and leaving clear blue skies. My ears popped and the torrential rain stopped instantly. A cry went up from the battlements as the Whiterun militia unfurled their raincloaks revealing their bows and began firing at the Stormcloak soldiers pouring up the ramp, now deprived of most of their long range support and vulnerable to the rain of arrows. Those that managed to make it up the ramp and over the barricade were met by the fiercely disciplined ranks of the Imperial Legion, formed into a unmoving shield wall, spears bristling.
The clash of steel behind me caught my attention. A party of Stormcloaks had scaled the slope of the motte and were trying to mount a assault on the Jarl. The Companions and Irileth were already in the fray and I rushed to join them, battle lust stirring my blood. A Stormcloak soldier charged me, greataxe raised and I ducked under the arc of his cut and his arm, emerging behind him. It was an easy stab to the gap between his helm and gorget; an instant kill. More attacked and Lydia stepped up beside me, the two of us working in partnership.
I don't know how long the battle lasted, or how many fell to my sword. In the end the battle for Whiterun turned out to be a massacre. Stormcloak bodies covered the path to the city, blood turn-ing the soil and stone red. The priests and priestesses moved over the battlefield, tending to the wounded. More than a few Imperial and militia had been killed but Whiterun was finally safe.
For the moment.
In the distance the bedraggled survivors, almost all of them injured, dragged Galmar Stone-Fist back towards Windhelm. He had fought like a fiend, reforming the Stormcloak's shield wall and leading his men in one last rally until he took a spear thrust to his leg and his troops had dragged him back from the wall. Irileth had wanted to pursue them but the Jarl had ordered her back. We picked our way back to the city gate, trying not to look down as our feet slipped on the gore underfoot and trod on soft yielding flesh. My hand was still locked round my sword hilt and my muscles trembled and ached with exhaustion. At the gates the Jarl made his speech, pulling Irileth, the Legate, the Harbinger and myself onto the scaffolding with him. Not a word sank in as I gazed out over the exhausted and bloody faces of the soldiers, I was too tired. Everything faded; the cheers from the soldiers became a muffled roar that echoed with my heartbeat and my vision blurred. Dimly I was aware of people speaking to me and a gentle hand on my shoulder guiding me home.