The town Guards return with buckets full of water and start to put out the burning roofs and hedges. It seems a thankless task because the dragon circles back, spraying the village with flame once more. The priest Shouts again, two words this time, covering the beast with frost even as his hands form shards of ice. Between his spells and his friends' arrows, the dragon slows, obviously wounded. If you were the creature, you think you'd give up now, and head home to recover. Perhaps try another settlement that wasn't so well guarded. But you once heard one of the Stormcloak generals explaining how dragons are driven by the need to dominate. You can see that in this dragon's battle with the priest. It's fighting everyone who's fighting back, but its real battle is with the Dragonborn.
The priest's magical attacks are relentless. He reminds you of a dragon himself, the anger in his eyes visible in flashes of light from his magical attacks. Though he must be exhausted from so much running and Shouting, he's still upright somehow, driving the dragon away from the village and towards the lake. His friends are supporting him with swords and arrows; while the Hold Guards are fully involved in fire-fighting, realising that their job is to protect the village while these travellers slay the beast. It's now flying erratically, unable to use its left wing properly, trying to beat twice as hard with its right. Too tired to breathe fire continuously, it's emitting flames in little puffs. When it manages to set the Legionary aflame, he simply dives into the lake.
Eventually the dragon crashes to the ground. The huge brothers leap onto its back, with sword and greatsword. One of them drives his sword through the beast's skull while the other holds it down. Its great eyes close, and you can tell when its life ebbs away. You never thought you'd get to witness the slaying of a creature out of legend, and you feel strangely sad. You'd like to rush outside with a torch, to look at the beast's scaly skin and the ridges on its back, perhaps even touch the membrane of its damaged wings.
But the priest staggers over, falling to his hands and knees in front of the mighty corpse, and something unimaginably weird happens. What you can only describe as “magical fire” rushes out of the dead dragon and into the Dragonborn. It's not the same colour as real fire, Talos knows you've seen enough of that tonight, and it shouldn't be damaging anything. Yet the flesh of the creature disappears to leave nothing but a clean skeleton – even as the Imperial collapses in a dead faint.
You open the door of your inn, ready to greet the travellers with mead or ale, anything they desire for saving your village. However the Legionary, dripping wet, waves you back. “Don't get any closer! He's not safe!”
You have no idea what he means, but then the priest seems to wake. His eyes open, he raises his head – and Shouts, spitting fire at his companions. He props himself up on his elbows, legs still trailing on the ground - and gasps for breath, the oddest expression on his face. The Legionary leans down to speak to him, and is rewarded by another Shout which sends him flying across the road into your neighbour's hedge.
Lydia, shaking her head, dives back into the inn. She returns with a large square of cloth, which she is folding even as she runs. The priest is scratching at his allies with hands held like claws as they try to restrain him, and a Shout makes a fireball burst from his lips. You wonder how he hasn't burnt himself.
The Legionary's back on his feet, looking slightly sick, yet continuing to distract his friend with feinted attacks. When he falls again, the Companion brothers throw themselves on top of the Dragonborn, just as they did with the real dragon - and you get a sudden flash of insight about what might be wrong with him. As the two muscular Nords hold the priest down, Lydia forces the cloth into his mouth and ties it tightly behind his head, effectively gagging him. They've done this before, you realise.
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timeasmymeasure
What the Innkeeper Saw - 5/7
Date: 2013-09-26 11:42 pm (UTC)The priest's magical attacks are relentless. He reminds you of a dragon himself, the anger in his eyes visible in flashes of light from his magical attacks. Though he must be exhausted from so much running and Shouting, he's still upright somehow, driving the dragon away from the village and towards the lake. His friends are supporting him with swords and arrows; while the Hold Guards are fully involved in fire-fighting, realising that their job is to protect the village while these travellers slay the beast. It's now flying erratically, unable to use its left wing properly, trying to beat twice as hard with its right. Too tired to breathe fire continuously, it's emitting flames in little puffs. When it manages to set the Legionary aflame, he simply dives into the lake.
Eventually the dragon crashes to the ground. The huge brothers leap onto its back, with sword and greatsword. One of them drives his sword through the beast's skull while the other holds it down. Its great eyes close, and you can tell when its life ebbs away. You never thought you'd get to witness the slaying of a creature out of legend, and you feel strangely sad. You'd like to rush outside with a torch, to look at the beast's scaly skin and the ridges on its back, perhaps even touch the membrane of its damaged wings.
But the priest staggers over, falling to his hands and knees in front of the mighty corpse, and something unimaginably weird happens. What you can only describe as “magical fire” rushes out of the dead dragon and into the Dragonborn. It's not the same colour as real fire, Talos knows you've seen enough of that tonight, and it shouldn't be damaging anything. Yet the flesh of the creature disappears to leave nothing but a clean skeleton – even as the Imperial collapses in a dead faint.
You open the door of your inn, ready to greet the travellers with mead or ale, anything they desire for saving your village. However the Legionary, dripping wet, waves you back. “Don't get any closer! He's not safe!”
You have no idea what he means, but then the priest seems to wake. His eyes open, he raises his head – and Shouts, spitting fire at his companions. He props himself up on his elbows, legs still trailing on the ground - and gasps for breath, the oddest expression on his face. The Legionary leans down to speak to him, and is rewarded by another Shout which sends him flying across the road into your neighbour's hedge.
Lydia, shaking her head, dives back into the inn. She returns with a large square of cloth, which she is folding even as she runs. The priest is scratching at his allies with hands held like claws as they try to restrain him, and a Shout makes a fireball burst from his lips. You wonder how he hasn't burnt himself.
The Legionary's back on his feet, looking slightly sick, yet continuing to distract his friend with feinted attacks. When he falls again, the Companion brothers throw themselves on top of the Dragonborn, just as they did with the real dragon - and you get a sudden flash of insight about what might be wrong with him. As the two muscular Nords hold the priest down, Lydia forces the cloth into his mouth and ties it tightly behind his head, effectively gagging him. They've done this before, you realise.