Private The Forsworn Fury (TFF)

[Minstrel]

Anitan watched as the Orc fell to the floor, his face showed that he was in pure agony but Anitan knew that it wasn't physical pain he was experiencing. She had seen Orcs acting liked this before, she believed it was called Berserker Rage. Taking a small step backwards flames ignited in her hands. This ability was extremely dangerous but Anitan had faith in her powers.

'I am an Imperial officer,' She repeated in a more intimidating manner this time, 'I don't care if you are in control of you actions or not, if you harm me in anyway you will be sent to the block.'

The Orc didn't reply, he just continued to writhe in pain on his knees. She would not fear a lone Orc.
I am a Thalmor! She thought to herself. I am superior to all races!

'Do you, understand?' She said in low, dark voice. to some it may have appeared to be a growl

 

[Ragnar the Red]

Aizen was slowly starting to get his thoughts under control when the high elf made a colossal mistake. He felt the heat of the fire suddenly burning in her hands. So it was true, she was a mage. Probably out to get him just like the last! The foul creatures were such cowards hiding behind such things!

And with that, the internal conflict was over. He gave way to the rage that was filling him as he decided that the only good mage was a dead one! He sprang to his feet in battle stance and let out a tremendous battle cry! "For Malacath!! Die Mage!!"

As the berserker rage took his body over it was like he was no longer in his body, but simply watching what his body was deciding to do. No fatigue, no pain, no hunger, nothing. Simply observation.

He watched as his body lunged forward, shield first, with newfound strength! Oh what was this pathetic little elf to do now? In the face of such terrific power?!

 

[Minstrel]

Anitan suddenly sprung into action as the Orc charged towards her with his shield in front of him. She attempted to dodge the attack, but he had only been a metre away to begin with. The shield struck her on the left side of her face and she fell to the harsh terrain with a thump. There was a split second where she entered a realm of darkness, but it soon passed. She wiped the blood from her mouth and looked up a the Orc.

'You will regret that!' She spat.

The flames in her hands ignited once more and two bolts of fire erupted into the Orc. He was thrown back into a nearby tree and then slid to the floor. Anitan's evil smile spread across her face and she rose to her feet.

'You see, foolish Orc!'

It took a moment but the Orc grunted and then lifted his head. He was smiling!

'Weak mage!'

Now the Orc stood steady on two feet. He stepped forward and looked Anitan in the eye, she returned his gaze.

'Stand down!' She shouted.

That was when her attention was suddenly taken by the commotion back at the carriage. Is that a werewolf! She thought.

 

[Geel-Kajin]

His head swung round to face the heat of the battle. To him, they were but monkeys scrabbling in the dirt, their untrained hands holding puny weapons. You think you can stop me? Wait until my claws dig into your heart, perhaps then you shall think again!

He heard the clang of metal nearby, and felt something crash against him. He grabbed it instinctively, held it by it's convulsing throat. To his left, he saw a guard with a war hammer in his gloved hands, gaping wide eyed at the him. A good deal of the "swords of law" had faltered, each one equally dazed. Even several of their opponents slowed, following their enemy in gazing at the him.

You stop your battles to look at me? Am I that striking that you can afford putting down your blades to look? You see me as a monster beyond proportion, yet I see you as worse than that. Very well... Since I have clearly got your attention, allow me to make my stand clear!

He lifted the squirming human up to his eye level, sinister glee spreading across his face. The mortal was wearing fur armor, stained with splashed of red. The antlers once decorating his helm had broken, no doubt from the blow which had sent the fool careering into him. Deer armor... Once again you must rely on nature. For clothes, for transport, for food. Is there nothing that you can do yourself!?
The Loup Garou launched his jaws forward, teeth glinting as it pierced flesh. He growled in pleasure as he shook the man like a rag doll, blood spewing from the mortal's wounds. He heard men gasp at the unearthly screams of that particular Forsworn. Rending flesh, his teeth sunk deep enough to puncture muscle, and finally bone. He celebrated as he felt the bone crunch beneath his teeth, the howls of the antlered man turning to silence. All around, he smelt their fear.

The werewolf spat out the corpse, and watched it roll onto the grass at his feet. Throughout this time, nobody around him had stirred. They had remained motionless, their faces as pale as the full moon which gave him strength. Several of them had even dropped their weapons, their feeble arms trembling.

He was about to go forward, finish all of them off, when he saw several others battling at the other side of the field. His wolfish eyes blinked when flames leapt out of the open palm of one of them, jet black pupils slitting as he tried to adapt to the new source of light. He tried to repress a shudder, tried not to let the others see he fear of a true predator. Fire....What sort of person can wield fire? What are you, to have been blessed with the weapon of the All-Mother herself? How could you be using the sword of nature... One which has been safeguarded by the people of Solstheim?

Wh-What are you?

 

[Minstrel]

Anitan's heart skipped a beat as both the beast's eyes and hers latched onto each other. She stepped back, ignoring the fuming Orc in front of her. She knew how deadly these monsters could be. How fast they could move, how easily they could kill. If she angered it in any way, she would not live long enough to walk this godforsaken rock another day. Even if she didn't anger it, the chances were she was still a dead woman. Once they have chosen their pray they will stop at nothing to kill it.

But then she noticed something quite unusual. She wasn't dead. The beast hadn't moved. Flames still danced in Anitan's hands and she saw - even from this distance - the reflection off the fire in the beasts eyes. Are you scared? She asked it in her mind. She moved to the spot she stood in a moment ago, closer to the werewolf.

Years ago, when Anitan was just a young girl, there had been a woman in her village who claimed she could talk to animals. She even when as far to say she was married to a man who was also a wolf. Of course she was crazy, but Anitan would often find her whispering to all sorts of animals deep in the forest. Growing up she was always told that animals don't think, they didn't have souls and they didn't go to any kind of heaven when they died. But maybe they were wrong.

When she looked into this beasts eyes she saw real emotion.

'Run,' Anitan said to Azien. 'Get out of here!'

I will deal with the Orc later, and then she began to walk slowly towards the man-wolf never letting their eye contact falter.

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle was perched in a dark willow approximately 5 feet from the Man wolf. Lyle was pretty high in the tree. He also rearranged The dark green leaves so no "Human" can look upon him from afar." why hasn't the man wolf tear apart that human?" Lyle was looking for reasons why the wolf hesitated to kill her. Then he noticed the fire emanating from her hands. "Holy Fodami" Mumbled Lyle as he almost fell out of the tree. "How???"
(Lyle has never seen or heard of magic) "I have seen a lot from my days as a caravan guard but i have never seen a human capable of holding flames" Lyle slides down the tree for a closer look.( Lyle is dangerously curious) As he landed he heard a faint crunch. He looks down to see a leaf under his foot."Oh crap"

 

[Melee]

A strange sensation prickled the back of Melee's neck, drawing her attention away from the Forsworn man on the carriage and out toward where the battle had been taking place.

The first thing she noticed was how unsettling and quiet it was. Everyone, man and woman alike, were gazing at something past her with fear and disbelief plastered all over their faces. Confused, she slowly turned to see what was causing this sudden change. And then she saw it, a couple yards away with it's back to her, facing a female High Elf who was steadily inching closer with flames in her hands. The fact that another Altmer had appeared was enough to surprise Melee yet again; the only other High Elves she had seen had mostly been Thalmor, but this one was wearing Imperial armor.

Can't be thinking about that right now, Melee thought to herself as she whipped her bow off her back and notched an arrow into place. Even with her magic, that werewolf will be incredibly difficult to take down. And it doesn't look like anyone else is planning on helping her. She carefully took aim at the werewolf's legs, hoping to slow him down by sending a few arrows into his calves. Even if she did manage to get multiple arrows in his legs, however, she knew it wouldn't be enough to get the result she was hoping for. Melee could only hope that the flame-wielding Altmer would take that opportunity to attack the werewolf and take him down. If they did this correctly, they might be able to get him (or her? It might be a woman, how would I know?) to calm down enough to transform back into his original form. She didn't want to kill the creature, since most people afflicted with turning into werewolves did not always have control over when they transformed.

There's still a person in there. I can't just kill someone who probably didn't even intend for this to happen. With that thought, she double checked her aim, pulled her bowstring back as far as she could, and let her arrow fly. By the time it had embedded itself in the werewolf's leg, she was already notching another arrow and sending it toward his other leg.

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle was glad he had not been noticed( for all he knows) "It seems the arrows have caused quite a diversion". Lyle looked to where the arrows came from. He saw a woman holding a bow. "she ceased the battle".
Lyle sneaked around the perimeter of the battle ground . He stopped behind a bush to the left side of the archer woman.The bush was prickly and he darned not try to hide inside the bush. "What is this woman trying to do,what is her purpose for saving the Fire Wielder?" Thought Lyle.

 

[Ragnar the Red]

The battle was nothing. He had knocked her to the ground and she blew a little fire at him. Sure it knocked his body back but he felt almost no pain, which left a huge smile on his face. But to be shrugged off?? By a MAGE no less?? That hurt ten times more than the damned fireball in his chest! Aizen was absolutely FURIOUS!! His rage flamed on with passion he had only known a very few times in his life. This mage. This WENCH! She would feel the wrath of a true orc of Malacath!

He was still in battle stance and ready to strike. His rage trying to move his body closer to her. But something wasn't right. Even if she was trying to play head games with him by ignoring him, her focus was elsewhere. He was able to force his body to take a second and follow her gaze. That's when he saw the biggest wolf he had ever seen, standing on two legs, blood seeping out of it's mouth, a weapon lodged in it's back which he paid no attention to. It became all too obvious that the mage would not take presidence over this new foe.

With his focus taken off of the mage he was able to focus his rage like he was taught from the day after he learned the brutal technique. The sensation of calm, focus, and rage all together at once was truly an amazing feeling and it surged through his body like ice water. He stood and watched the mage through his peripheral vision as she neared the werewolf but his focus was still on the beast.

He was just moments away from sprinting at the creature with everything he had when another high elf appeard from the carriage and shot two arrows at it's legs! This could be just the distraction that I need to mount an unexpected attack! He thought. He would just give it a sec to react to the arrows and then mount an attack that would surely end the beast in a single blow!

He could only hope that the mage would postpone any surprise attacks on him until after the beast lay lifeless.

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle seen the Orc rushing to the Man Wolf. Lyle dismissed being stealthy and stood straight up, sprinting to the Orc. Lyle passed the wolf ,halfway towards the Orc he unsheathed both of his ebony blades. not slowing down but speeding up he he is now more than halfway there. " I must protect this spectacle of nature with my life". Thought Lyle, remembering his oath "Protect nature before Protecting man".

 

[Minstrel]

Anitan inched ever closer to the Wolf-man when she realised that the focus of the battle had been taken off of the Forsworn ambush and placed on the creature she sought to attack. She didn't have any intentions of killing it, however it would give her a twisted feeling of happiness to see it fall to the ground with blood seeping out of its deep wounds.

She began to move towards it once more when suddenly an arrow struck the beast in the leg. Anitan sharply turned her head towards the source of the attack and found... another Hight Elf! Certainly she can't be Thalmor as she does not wear their uniform, then again I am not in my usual Thalmor robes either. I must make a point to speak to her. Anitan saw the Altmer ready another arrow and she took this opportunity to attack the monster.

She thrust two bolts of flame at the beasts head, hoping that if they caused it enough pain it would revert back to its usual form.

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle leaped over the Orc sprinting full speed at the fire wielder. Lyle already failed to protect the beast from the two fireballs he won't let it happen again. Although scared Lyle still was coming at the female as fast as he could he couldn't let the beast fall. he was within striking distance "death to man and elves!!!!!!!!!!" at that he swung his blade downward aiming for her jugular

 

[caravan guard]

OOC srry for disengaging the battle between Lyle and the Orc but fire is more dangerous in Lyle's eyes.

his priorities are too protect the man wolf

 

[Geel-Kajin]

The flames loomed ever nearer, the heat crackling like a whip. He could not tear his eyes from what he considered sacred, now unsure of himself. What should he treat it as? Should he think of her as the incarnation of the All-Mother herself, or as a defiler of nature's weapon? He snarled uncertainly, backing off as the flames hissed like the call of a thousand writhing serpents.

No.... This can't be. Fire is the weapon of justice! What is man to pass such a law!?

Yet the fire licked her open palm, which did not smolder and burn. The high elf's skin was as complete as ever, not even scorched by the terrible fire. What did this mean, he wondered. Fire burned all, even him. No one, no one was safe from it! But....


"Gaa-Roooagh!" The next thing he knew, the bite of a thousand hornets plunged into his knees. He roared in irritation, the shafts of arrows buried in his legs. Blood, his blood. It came dribbling from his punctured skin, steaming as it hit the floor. Through his pain he smelt the attacker, the tang of summer's grass upon her. The mahogany wood of her bow wafted it's rich smell. Both of which may have been appealing to most of her kind. But oh, out here on the battlefield, it betrays you to my nose.

He lurched around, pain clouding his thoughts. His eyes were bloodshot, wild. The only thing on his mind now was to kill the annoying mortal, to sate his need for revenge. Blood for blood. He charged forward, using momentum to hurtle towards his new victim. His tensed his claws....


A roar of deafening proportion filled his ears, the ember light blinding. Flames razed the back of his head, smiting him with unbelievable pain. His vision turned as red as the blood moon itself, the call of a thousand wolves echoing inside his skull. ROOAAGH! He felt the ground shiver with his pain, the soil beneath him curdle with his blood.

D-Damn You.,... No longer did he see anyone else. Just her. Just that damned fire wielder. You caused my misery, you took my blood. Oh, I shall repay you.

I shall repay you with hell!


He charged forward blindly, his eyes useless beneath the coating of crimson. One, twice, he crashed into something, but merely battered them off with his talons. He did not take joy in most likely killing them- to him they did not exist. His nose now was his only guide- and it only smelt her.

With his bloodied talons, he swept her off her feet in one fell swoop. He smelt the copper pulse of blood seeping, and his body shuddered with pain and joy. Are you the fire? Are you the envoy of flame? Then I, I am the caller of darkness! You shine your light for all to see, and I, I shall snuff it out!

But as he lifted his claw for the killing blow, he felt a call deep within the crevice in his head. Hammering, dying to be free. He felt it fighting strongly now, the barriers he placed up weakened by his pain. The mortal, returning? Must I shift my form and soul? He looked down at the flame wielder, and roared in one last call of pain and frustration.

Flesh and bone shifting, he bounded into the shadows of the woods.

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle was just about to end the fire wielder when something with the speed of 6 horses knocked him back. He looked and saw It was the Man wolf. He noted the creatures taste for revenge. Lyle whipped behind him running towards who ever is willing to fight. Lyle is thirsty for blood.( he's not a vampires)

 

[Skyrimosity]

Edwyn could not believe this strange turn of events. He remembered the battle against the Stormcloaks well. The Briar-Heart ordered arrows to hit some of the guards. Then the brave Briar-Heart charged in fighting. Meanwhile, I was fighting two Stormcloaks alone with nothing but my bound sword. It was an intense clash of steel vs. magic, that I only escaped alive because of one little mistake. The Stormcloaks had accidentally, in the clash of swords, forgotten their shields. I took a swing at the one to my right, and he fell dead within an instant. I stood fighting the other one until I skillfully dodged his sword and lunged mine into his side, piercing his heart. And now, I stare at the abomination known as a were-wolf. This Skyrim is a strange place indeed. Oh how I yearn for a quiet home in High Rock. And there Edwyn stood, looking at the were-wolf, waiting for the next move.

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle's eyes flickered between the orc and the Archer. " Who!!!!" "Who will face me I have came to skyrim to free nature from the chains of Men,Elves,Orcs,and Neck biters." " I am the revolution" " All of Tamriel will remember this day " At that a pack of wolves came into view along with 5 or 6 bears. Accompanying the animals were 5 Khajiit warriors and 5 Argonian warriors ready for battle. " you have two options stay away join us or move out of the way" Lyle waits for the answers. " I forgot to tell you but the first race that the revolution will target is the Falmer".

 

[Minstrel]

Anitan was physically shaken by the encounter. The wolf-man had ran into the cover of the woods for no apparent reason and now she was surrounded by an army of animals and beast races.

'What is?' She demanded. 'Who dares to challenge the might of the Imperial legion.'

Anitan was imagining that she was shouting 'Thalmor' instead of 'Imperial legion'

 

[caravan guard]

Lyle looked at the female archer. " I challenge you , Lyle challenge you , we challenge you" said Lyle pointing to his force. " The Legion are nothing in the forest, they will fight in open land but not in a forest" "And if you haven't realized the west region of skyrim is full of trees." Smiled Lyle as he motioned upward. At his motion 2 khajiit archers climbed a tree targeting the orc. " What's your choice?"

 

[Melee]

The Elven bow in Melee's hands slowly lowers as the Khajiit gestures to the allies behind him, about twenty or so if she was estimating correctly. She sighs, taking her notched arrow away from the bow and quickly placing it back into the quiver on her back, returning her bow to it resting spot across her back as well. She holds up her hands, taking a few cautious steps forward toward the Khajiit (Lyle? Is that what he said his name was?) before planting her feet firmly on the battered ground. As she walks, she does not take her eyes off of him, but instead intently focuses on him and wonders where he came from, especially with a group so large.

"What exactly are you challenging me to, if I may ask?" Melee asked the newcomer, her eyes never once leaving his. "I am no longer armed, and the werewolf has run into the woods. My intentions, as well as the others' intentions, I'm sure, were not to kill it. We simply wished to return it to its human state. If we go now, we might be able to track it down and treat its wounds. I know some healing spells that would have him feeling better in very little time."

The entire encounter she had just witnessed and taken part of had greatly surprised Melee. Since she had arrived in Skyrim (although it had been some time ago), she thought she had seen enough to where nothing would surprise her anymore. Now she had not only dealt with being captured by the Stormcloaks and being set free by the Forsworn, but she'd also come face to face with a werewolf that had been intent on destroying numerous people in this group. And now I'm being challenged by a Khajiit that wants to wipe out anyone who isn't a beast race? I guess prejudices and racism know no bounds. An imperceptible smile crept onto her face for just a second as she mulled the last few hours' experiences over in her head. I certainly don't lead the most normal life in Skyrim. But what could ever be considered normal here?

In her absentminded thoughts, Melee had unknowingly looked down at the ground. Her head shot back up, eyes almost glowing with fiery determination and stubbornness. "I do not wish to fight you, although you seem bent on destroying my kind. I will not fight you unless you make the first move. I, however, have nothing against you." She stared straight ahead at the Khajiit, waiting for his next move.