Babette and Brelyna both exchanged a look when they heard the roar echo through the night, the ground shaking the whole time. The three hundred year old vampire removed her dagger from the throat of the Stormcloak guard who had fallen for her pleas for help and sheathed it, constantly watching both end of the alleyway for signs of more guards.
"What the hell was that?" Babette muttered.
"It sounded like a dragon...but...I thought both of them were attacking the camps?" Brelyna replied uneasily.
"It sounded too close to be a dragon. Besides, we never saw anything fly over us."
"Morgan."
Babette looked over at where Brelyna was looking and she felt her jaw drop.
Morgan had transformed into a form that was completely unfamiliar to her. Her wings had a span of over ten feet, bright red membranes attaching her wings to her body. But it was the sight of what she was doing that jolted Babette into talking.
"We need to leave Brelyna. Now."
Brelyna nodded dumbly as she watched Morgan rip a Stormcloak in half with each arm, a fountain of blood showering the Dragonborn. She had never seen her friend's transformation and it was so different to what she had looked like when she turned for the first time. But what Brelyna worried about was the fact that she wasn't even trying to hide from the Stormcloaks...in fact, she thought Morgan wanted to look for them.
Or someone.
"What about her?"
Babette shook her head.
"The way she is now, anyone going near her will get torn apart. She is very pissed, Brelyna. Come on, before she sees us."
Brelyna nodded and followed the smaller assassin, feeling Morgan's eyes watching her the whole time as she moved away...
Astrid dropped the small vial of poison onto the floor when the ground shook and cursed when the purplish liquid solidified on contact with the stone ground. She had been adding a powerful nightshade extract of Babette's design into as many cooking pots as she could find. The problem with it was that if it wasn't entered into a liquid of some sort, it became as hard as rock and rendered useless.
She looked over at the massive white wolf who had just finished urinating into another cooking pot and she found herself smiling.
"Glad to see you have a back up plan my dear, but I won't be doing that," she muttered.
Scar yipped at her playfully and jumped off the table before gently gripping Astrid's hand in her jaws. Astrid looked at her as she began whining, her tail swishing increasingly often.
"What is it?"
Scar whined again and gently pulled her hand, being careful not to break the skin.
Astrid suddenly understood. Scar was trying to get her out of there because she had sensed something that scared her...and Astrid had never seen this wolf become scared of anything.
What is she so scared of?
She then blinked.
The ground shaking, a dragon-like roar...Morgan. Something has happened. That was her....and she is VERY angry.
"We will come back for her," Astrid promised the wolf, who let go of her hand and licked her fingers by way of apology.
Astrid ruffled the wolf's head and then smirked.
"Did you do your business inside the open vat of wine?"
Scar wagged her tail.
"Good girl. Come on, let's get out of here."
Ulfric watched in horror as the red dragon picked up three men, one in each front limb and the last one clenched within it's huge jaws. The dragon then looked directly at him and Ulfric could have sworn that it chuckled at him, steams of smoke spilling out of it's mouth and nostrils. Then it killed all three men at once, the ones in it's limbs being crushed while the last was bitten in half. None of them had even had time to scream.
"FUS...RO DAH!"
The Shout he had used to kill Torygg had been effective. He had known that he would never match the power that the Greybeards possessed. He also knew that he would not even come close to the level that the Dragonborn was now at. But he had imagined that the Unrelenting Force Shout would at least stagger the dragon. But when the dragon started laughing in earnest, he felt his stomach drop in fear, just as it had done when Alduin had first arrived in Nirn and had saved the Dragonborn from execution.
The Gods truly have a strange sense of humour.
"Just as I expected. A weak thu'um," Odahviing rumbled, his eyes narrowed. "Begone, little joor."
"You dragons are prideful creatures indeed," Ulfric replied, his hand gripping his axe tightly. "Yet even now, you are surrounded and you mock me?"
"You are not the Dovahkiin. You are not worthy of the thu'um."
Odahviing laughed again as he flapped his massive wings, easily carrying him away from the swarm of Stormcloak soldiers.
"And you are nothing compared to my thuri."
Ulfric raised an eyebrow as the dragon flew north-west, bellowing it's triumph as it flew away. He snarled and sheathed his axe before looking at Galmar.
"Let us return to the Palace. We need to assess the damage."
"I doubt we have enough men to attack Whiterun again after this," Galmar grumbled angrily.
"True, but we can recover like we always have."
Galmar nodded and the two of them walked back to Windhelm, thinking the worst was over.
Serana shivered when she heard the deafening roar echo across the land. She knew it was Morgan, but she also knew it was something much worse. It was the sound of her barriers falling. She had seen that Morgan had surrounded herself with barriers, ever since she had turned her. Being her sire, she knew that Morgan was afraid of losing her friends and family, it was a natural thought to do so. But in Morgan's case, she refused to think about what would happen should she be alone.
And from the sounds of it, something happened that broke those barriers and released the creature within her.
"Set me down here Durnehviir, if you would," she said tightly.
The green dragon nodded in assent and landed on the cliffs overlooking Windhelm. Serana jumped off and looked at him.
"Wait on the other side of this mountain and stay out of sight. They think we have gone. Let them think they are safe. I need to bring Morgan before she tears everyone apart."
"That is her right as thuri," Durnehviir replied, "But I will do as you ask."
Serana shook her head.
"If she happens across an innocent...or a child...stay out of sight, we will be back soon," she whispered before leaping off the cliff and down onto the snowy plain just outside the city wall.
Serana sprinted as fast as she could, a blur on the white surface.
I hope she hasn't killed any innocent yet...
"No...get away from me!"
"Oh come now," Calixto Currium purred, his elven dagger drawn and pointed at the trembling woman who was backed against the stone wall. He had been searching for another beautiful specimen to complete his goal, and Tova Shatter-Shield was perfect in that regard.
"Get away! The guards will come for me!"
"I think not," he chuckled. "They are searching for the elusive murderer of the guards my dear. No-one is coming for you. Just close your eyes and I promise I will make it fast and painless."
Tova brought out her small iron dagger and held it in both hands, her knuckles turning white from the grip.
"Get. Away. Oh Divines....save me...."
Calixto sniggered, not seeing a massive black shadow loom over his shoulder.
"Words are meaningless dear Tova. But fear not, I will use those lips of yours, they are very succulent..."
"Words are meaningless you say?"
Calixto spun around and lashed out with his dagger, only for a huge grey, clawed hand to grasp his in mid-swing. He looked at the hand in disbelief before raising his gaze. His eyes went to a lean, muscled stomach, followed by a pair of small breasts inside a black piece of fabric. He looked higher, and felt the saliva in his mouth dry up.
What...the...
He tried to move his arm but it was like trying to move a giant. The creature hissed at him and he felt his bowels loosen in fear, his heart beat increasing with every second he stared into the black soulless eyes of the creature before him.
"Get out of here."
Tova shivered as she stayed where she was, her eyes wide and fearful. Calixto sniggered despite his predicament and the creature slammed him into a wall, and he screamed, feeling his spine snap from the force. The frightened woman continued to stare and the creature that held him hissed at her, the fangs easily visible now.
A vampire...
"MOVE, TOVA."
Tova nodded and she hiked up her dress before sprinting away, her iron dagger lying forgotten on the floor where she had dropped it. Calixto blinked as the creature lowered it's head so that he was face to face with it.
"Words are meaningless you say? I know otherwise," it purred, lowering it's head further until it's mouth was barely an inch from his right ear.
"Are you trying to seduce me? Sorry, but I don't go for ugly women," he spat defiantly.
Then he screamed again when the other hand grasped his other shoulder and tore his arm off, a spray of blood showering his face and the creature. He glared at it as he struggled to control his breathing.
"I'll get another arm."
"No...you won't...."
He shivered then when he realised that this creature was going to kill him. He kicked out at the creature's midriff and he gasped when his foot connected with what felt like a steel plate. The creature chuckled darkly as it's fangs caressed the tip of his ear.
"GAAN."
Calixto screamed even louder as his blood suddenly burst out of his body and streaming into the creature itself. He could feel his skin tearing as his life-force ebbed away and in the last few seconds of his life, he put the pieces together.
It's a 'she'. She spoke of words having power. She used Words of Power....like the Dragonborn. She is the Dragonborn. The vampire Dragonborn.
Then everything went black.
Ulfric charged through the streets, the quivering woman practically clinging onto his arm. He and the rest had barely been back in Windhelm a few moments before a sobbing Tova Shatter-Shield launched herself onto him, muttering about Calixto and a 'monster'. He was thankful that Ralof, who had managed to get back from his scouting of the other camp, managed to prise the hysterical woman off of him so that he could ask her exactly what had happened.
Her story made his blood seem to freeze.
He had then issued orders and now there were a few seconds away from the place where she had seen this monster, his loyal Stormcloaks all bearing arms.
"By Talos."
Ralof's mild statement was unheard as Ulfric stared.
Calixto was barely a withered husk. His clothing was intact expect for his stump where an arm should have been. The limb was lying on the floor nearby. His face was contorted, a mask of absolute fear on his face.
But what really captured his attention was the nine foot tall grey creature standing there, blood dripping from it's mouth and body. Huge red wings which easily spanned three men were beating slowly, as though the creature was trying to take off.
Then it did take off, and the air around him went as cold as ice.
"Jarl Ulfric. I wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you again, but that would be a lie," it hissed and he blinked a few times to gain his thoughts.
"Dragonborn," he muttered in disbelief.
"Your Butcher lies dead. You're welcome."
Just as smart-mouthed as she always was. Just like she was when we met in Helgen. I saw her running away with a Stormcloak that turned out to be Ralof, and like a fool, I thought she had placed her allegiance with me.
"There is a bounty on your head," he managed to utter, his axe already out of it's sheath.
Morgan laughed, blood still dripping from those wicked fangs.
"That hasn't stopped me from killing off your men whenever I needed to. It never stopped my fellow dovah from annihilating your army camps. And Ulfric...it will not stop me from ripping your spine out and beating you to death with it."
There was a collective gasp as dozens of soldiers and citizens stared at the transformed Dragonborn and the Bear of Eastmarch. Ulfric grimaced. He had always hoped to capture or kill Morgan without any witnesses, but there was no chance that he could do so now. The fact that the Butcher lay dead at her hands made things worse for him, in his view.
Some will rally to her name after this. She managed to kill the person responsible for the murders within a few short minutes while my loyal men and women spent months trying to do the same.
"Why are you here of all places? I would have thought you would be in Whiterun with that milk-drinker Balgruuf."
"You know why I am here. And I accomplished my goal."
Then he felt his heart twist.
She outplayed me. The dragons were a distraction. The dead guards were from an accomplice of hers and not the work of the Butcher.
"I never intended to..."
"Beat my mother within an inch of her life?" Morgan hissed in fury, smoke pouring from her nostrils. "Allow her to be a toy to those bastards you call your 'Stormcloaks'? Ulfric Stormcloak, you have signed your death sentence. I have no doubt that Sovngarde will accept you, they seem to think honour is all that matters."
Morgan narrowed her eyes.
"Whether they will accept you in pieces is another matter."
Ulfric knew she was telling the truth. She was serious about her threats, he knew that now.
You woke the dragon.
He noticed that his court mage was extending his arm to cast a spell and he shook his head frantically, trying to gain Wuunferth's attention. But the mage simply concentrated, a fireball forming in his hands.
The Dragonborn turned and smiled as the fireball was released, and Ulfric thought that this was the end of her.
So when the fireball exploded and the Dragonborn still stood there amidst the smoke and trails of fire left on the cobblestone, Ulfric began to wonder just how she could be killed when a spell that powerful had no effect.
"Fire doesn't affect a dragon," Morgan chuckled at the mage.
Then she took a short breath and before Ulfric could shout a warning, it was far too late.
"YOL...TOOR SHUL!"
The screams of the people around him were nothing compared to the agonised screaming of his court mage. Several Stormcloaks ran to the fallen mage and dumped snow all over him to put the dragonfire out, but Ulfric knew that it was only delaying the inevitable.
"Morgan."
Ulfric shivered in anger as a woman appeared behind the monstrosity and placed an arm on hers gently.
This was who I should have concentrated on. The nightspawn that did this to the Dragonborn.
"Come on, we need to leave," Serana whispered, keeping her eyes on the Jarl and his soldiers.
"Not until he...."
"Come on Morgan. Control the blood. Don't let it control you," Serana instructed, running her hand along Morgan's face gently.
Ulfric felt sick at the sight but he said nothing as he looked back at the smoking corpse of his court mage.
He was my best chance of killing her in open combat. Only Galmar and possibly myself could take her head on now.
"Dragonborn, turn yourself in," Ralof pleaded.
Morgan hissed at him, her wings had stopped beating and she now levitated back too the ground gently, her eyes fixed on him now. Serana wrapped her arm round Morgan tightly, an ice spike already formed in her hand.
"You always had my gratitude for helping me in Helgen, Ralof. But like Ulfric, you seem to think that Skyrim is for the Nords only. I think you care little for the Argonians in the docks, who work most of the day for little gold and suffer nothing but abuse at the hands of your fellows. Then there are the Dunmer, who spend their lives in fear, not knowing when that drunken oaf will attack them again..."
"You say that once more you bitch, and I will cleave you in half," Galmar growled.
Morgan looked at him now and even with her face rearranged into her Vampire Lord form, everyone could tell she was smirking.
"You wouldn't get within twenty feet of me Galmar."
"Come, Sister, it is time for use to leave."
Morgan had felt Lucien's presence but hadn't known just how close he had been. She could smell blood on his spectral dagger however, and she looked at the assassin.
"You did well, Brother."
Lucien bowed to her and Ulfric narrowed his eyes.
"ENOUGH! Guards!"
But Morgan had acted even faster. She had grabbed hold of Serana around her waist and then nodded to Lucien, who vanished from sight with an amused smirk on his face. Ulfric growled as the Dragonborn laughed at him, her left hand glowing blue.
"A little goodbye gift Ulfric."
A bolt of magic shot from her hand and slammed into the dead corpses of Calixto and Wuunferth. Within a few seconds, the two of them had stumbled to their feet and had drawn a steel sword in each hand, their eyes unseeing. Galmar took an involuntary step backwards, as did everybody else save Ulfric and Ralof.
Morgan laughed and she flapped her wings once more, before flying higher into the sky and over the tall walls of Windhelm.
"KILL THEM!" Ulfric roared, swinging his axe, only for the undead Calixto to block the attack.
His shout galvanised the soldiers, and within a few moments. Both reanimated corpses had been put down, becoming a twin pile of grey ash as they disintegrated. Ulfric sheathed his axe and took a shuddering breath.
Too many people saw that. Too many will begin to panic.
"Galmar. Ralof. Meet me in the war room. The rest of you, begin to reorganise our patrols and count our fallen. Citizens of Windhelm!"
The civilians assembled all looked on as the Jarl climbed onto a small wall so that everyone could see him clearly.
"You have all seen the truth! The Dragonborn is a monster of the night. You saw what she did to our beloved court mage, as well as the foul magic she used to reanimate him! I ask all of you to stay strong and report anything out of the ordinary to a guard or soldier, no matter how trivial you think it is. I want all of you to remember this day."
Galmar nodded in approval.
"I also need to ask for volunteers. Any of you who thought of joining the army but were turned away due to old injuries or other ailments are now welcome to join. After what happened just now, I think we can all agree that the situation has grown much more complicated. Stay vigilant, and may Talos guard you all."
He smiled when a roar of approval met his words, although he also spotted that many dunmer who had been standing there were still wearing sceptical looks.
Fools. They will see soon enough that the Dragonborn is not their ally.
"Galmar, Ralof. Follow me."
He increased the speed of his walk and his two most trusted soldiers followed suit.
It's time I increased the pressure on Rikke and the Legion. She is a worthy adversary but she has less soldiers than Tullius had...before he went mad of course.
But Ulfric also knew that the main obstacle was still in his way, and now that he no longer had any form of leverage over her, he knew that she would also begin to fight back with increasing hostility towards himself and his Stormcloaks.
Let us see just how good you are, Dragonborn.