Riverlands, Riverrun
Neferion
He stared in irritation at the raging green inferno, its flames rising hundreds of feet into the air, where Riverrun had stood moments ago, the only thing separating it from his army being the vast barrier stretching like a dome he had summoned as it erupted.
And everything had been going so well. Just a moment longer and those defenders who hadn't died in the panic would have fled or surrendered. The castle would be his, and he could focus on consolidating his power in the Riverlands.
He gritted his teeth in irritation as cold fury coursed through his veins. Oh, how he wanted to tear apart the idiot who had set up those bowls of wildfire. And apparently those idiots fucked by Sanguine didn't know the power of the substance, believing themselves safe behind the moat and walls of the keep.
He didn't like it when things didn't go his way. He underestimated his opponent, forgetting how truly stupid people can be when they want to be. The worst enemy of any kingdom or community? Not an external enemy, not even a traitor. Not famine or plague. But human stupidity.
You know that something is about to fall when fools are convinced of their own infallibility. Of course, Ulfric Stormfucker came to mind as an example.
"Oh, what I would give to be able to kill that arrogant dog of the Thalmor one more time." He muttered to himself, remembering the look on his face at the moment of death, when the Shout tore him apart, just as he had done to King Torygg.
Intentionally or not, this fool had been the greatest of the Aldmeri Dominion's heroes in recent years, for no one had contributed so much to the weakening of the Empire. Of course, he had to clean up this mess, which had involved countless casualties.
He had no time for this nonsense. He felt something was hanging in the air. Focusing his will, he opened his mouth, from which a shout escaped.
"IIZ SLEN NUS" (Ice, Flesh, Statue)
The air in front of him seemed to freeze for a moment as an impenetrable wall of cold rushed towards the fortress, soon revealing a sight that left the Riverlanders standing behind him in shock and amazement.
In front of them, where a raging storm of emerald fire had been a moment ago, there was now a huge ice sculpture of raging flames.
Well, with thu'um, there really was nothing impossible; you could not even extinguish fire but freeze it. You only had to freeze its concept, which was not difficult when you had such an understanding of it as he did.
"Punch that Talos; I don't need fucking Numidium to conquer a continent. And I am a shadow of myself right now." He threw the words into the air like a challenge.
*Dovakiin.* heard Vulthuryol's voice in his head. The bond that had been forged when he had been reborn allowed them to communicate regardless of distance. And right now, his brother was acting as his eyes, monitoring what was happening in the Riverlands from the air.
*What's going on?* He asked, looking in the direction where he had sensed the presence of the dovah. The Kingdom of Rock? Nothing should happen there.
*A large army is marching from the southwest, about 40 thousand people, but that's not a problem. I sense a powerful presence looming there, something similar to the Daedric Princes, although much weaker. The presence is extremely malicious, though.* The golden dragon replied, then fell silent for a moment.
*I don't see any other army, but from the south I sense two more similar presences, although not as sinister as the first one.*
Neferion frowned in thought. Three divine presences, because he had no doubt that they belonged to some deities, since there were no other powerful beings here. Neferion's instincts were piqued; he knew that divine entities rarely intervened in mortal affairs without significant reason. With a deep breath, he steeled himself for the impending encounter, aware that the balance of power might shift dramatically depending on their intentions.
Only the Seven existed in the south in such numbers, but that would prove that they personally took up the gauntlet thrown to them without playing the middleman. Which he had to admit surprised him a lot, because he had not expected them to be capable of such a thing. On the other hand, the amount of faith accumulated over the millennia since the Andals conquered part of Westeros must have been enormous.
Enormous faith could indeed fuel powerful miracles, and in a world rife with uncertainty, it was perhaps this very conviction that had emboldened the Seven to step forth. As the tides of fate shifted, their resolve might just alter the course of events in ways that none could foresee. He couldn't allow that.
He felt that everything was getting more and more complicated. And if Vulthuryol had ruled out three, that meant that the other four were somewhere. Suddenly, dark thoughts came to him. What if one of them attacked Sunspear and Nymeria?
They must know that Dorne was not only a base of operations at the moment but also the main place of his cult. Faith, which had grown at the expense of the Seven. True, he left Nymeria many powerful artefacts, especially Wabbajack, whose unpredictability could change the fate of almost any battle.
But against a god? Especially since the Seven were not like the Storm God or the Drowned God, forgotten or worshipped by one small nation but by kingdoms of many millions for millennia. Had he underestimated them too much? Yes, they may not be as powerful as Akatosh or Molag Bal, but he himself was much weaker than at home.
Nervousness and fear for Nymeria began to grow in him, for whom, despite himself, he began to care in some way.
"What to do? What to do? Damn it!" He cursed, irritated. He should have developed some shouts for long-distance communication.
*Brother, fly to Sunspear as soon as possible and defend the princess from a possible attack. I only hope it won't be too late. Fly.* He ordered urgently.
*As you wish, Dovahkiin. Show these weak gods the power of Dov.*
*I will do so. They will regret not having fled to the other side of the world.* He replied, and the powerful presence of his soul began to work its way back into the world. *I will break them, and then I will use them to break the bonds that hold me.*
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Riverlands,
The road between Golden Tooth and Wayfare's Rest
The Stranger
They had entered the Riverlands two days ago and were now only three days' journey from Wayfare's Rest, and his excitement was at its peak. He couldn't wait to sink his hand into the Dragon's chest and pull out its warm, beating heart, then devour its mighty, seething soul.
The snake of tired, sweaty, pathetic soldiers trailed behind him for miles, and the frightened lords, thankfully, kept their distance, fearing his wrath after he had killed one of them who had asked too many questions. He had no idea what his name was. A lord of some sort.
Suddenly, something caught his attention to his right; he thought he had sensed something, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He shook his head. He must have been too excited. Suddenly, he felt pain on his face, and his world blurred into a thousand colours. But not before he had managed to see a silhouette appear out of nowhere.
His body, torn from his mount, flew almost a mile, smashing through a grove of trees, finally coming to rest on a small hill. The force of the impact drove him into the rock below.
He tried to quickly shake it off, but before he could even get to his feet and dig himself out of the crater, something hit him in the lower abdomen with such force that he lost his breath and enlarged the crater several times over, practically destroying the hill he was on.
He didn't know how long he lay there dazed, but he knew that his physical form was slowly regenerating, and the attacker was waiting.
After a moment, he carefully crawled out of the crater, spotting his opponent. As he had guessed, it was the Dragon. Although he had to admit that he had been surprised. Not only had he not detected it, but it had somehow appeared out of nowhere. And above all, it was stronger than he had expected.
"You know, I have to admit that even Warrior wouldn't be able to land blows half as powerful. I thought you were weaker." He said with his slightly insane smile that irritated his other aspects so much.
Dovahkiin looked at him, tilting his head, and his helmet blurred in the air, revealing a face twisted in a sneer and eyes full of contempt. "And you are exactly as weak and pathetic as I expected," he replied, his voice carrying some primal power that made Stranger feel a little doubt.
Although the Dragon's words ignited anger in him, he knew he had to wait a bit. He had to find some weak point because now he knew he had no chance in a direct confrontation. But he wasn't like Warrior; he could find more subtle ways to kill his opponent.
"You know, I didn't expect such heartlessness from you. Not after what I've heard," he finally said, to which the other remained silent. Unfazed, he continued, "You left your little princess to her fate. She's probably dead now, though maybe we have her in our hands? Who knows?"
"You're lying. I can feel it. I've known people like you. Liars, conspirators, saboteurs, assassins... There was one in particular. Her name was Mephala... I have her somewhere in my bag, locked in crystal for eternity." The Dragon replied, and his terrible presence began to manifest itself outside, forcing the Lannister troops heading their way to retreat.
Stranger, licking his lips nervously, replied, carefully choosing his words, "Maybe I don't know what happened to her. I'm sure Maiden was supposed to pay her a visit. We can only guess how that meeting might have gone."
"FUS RO DAH" (Force, Balance, Push)
A powerful shockwave hit him with a force he had never felt before. He could feel his material form barely able to withstand the attack, burning his divine energy in a terrible amount.
His entire world was filled with pain, and he didn't know what was happening. He could only suspect that he had ended up somewhere very far from where they were talking. He had heard of their opponent's powers and had even seen a huge ice tree, but experiencing it firsthand was something completely different.
That bastard had almost torn his spiritual form from his physical form. His damaged eyes, as well as the rest of his body, had begun to regenerate again, but he was still unable to move, though he could now see that he was embedded in the side of a mountain. But they were almost 30 miles away from the mountain range.
This one was a real abomination.
His almost healthy eyes tried to adjust to the light that suddenly blinded him, but after a moment they opened in surprise when he realised where the light came from. A luminous golden spear was heading towards his head, held by the Dovahkiin.
However, before it could reach its target, a purple bolt of lightning struck the black armour of his enemy from the side, knocking him away along with his cursed spear. Unfortunately, it seemed that the attack did not leave even a scratch on him, as it landed nearby without difficulty.
Their gazes turned at once to the direction from which the attack had come. There, leaning on a simple staff, stood a hunched old woman, dressed in a brown robe.
"You look like shit, brother." Crane's hoarse voice reached them. "I think I need to give you a helping hand."
Hi, guys.
100 power stones = Extra chapter at the end of the week.