Dragon's Conquest

As the Scrolls Sang of Malice

Nariilu's Souls danced beneath her skin in a fevered attempt to push out of her body. Her heart beat in time with the footsteps of the ancient Nords that filed into a loose formation behind her as she led them over the Whalebone Bridge and past Tsun, who stepped aside for them with a simple nod and a fist crossed across his chest. The mist was beyond thick, but the glowing warriors behind her seemed not to struggle to keep from coughing as she did.

Her cohort-worth of warriors followed in a loose formation singing a pounding warsong in Dov that she barely translated in her head. It was some song about her Thu'um, and Nariilu could swear she heard something about Alduin. Nariilu bit her tongue to bark an order for them to step in strict formation, marching time. A fair number had lived before even the founding of the First Empire, and more had been simple skirmishers or hunters in life. Besides, there was no reason for strict defensive lines when one Shout from Alduin could send half of them crashing into a mountain. She allowed Felldir the Old to lead beside her, turning them through a softly sloping pass to a large valley that opened below them.

It was covered in low fog, almost looking like a lake in the early autumn morning save for the shrubs and boulders that pushed through. "The main battlegrounds," Felldir explained. "We organize war games here occasionally. Here, the World-Eater can be surrounded and slain with relative ease. At the very least, none of ours will fall to the Void, and all who follow us know the terrain well, even when blinded by this cursed mist."

Wails of dead souls echoed off the cliffs bordering the plain. "Relative ease is still near-impossible. I was barely able to put a scratch on him earlier, even with Dragonrend," Nariilu replied. "If he's got access to the souls of the dead whilst we fight him, he can regain strength faster than we can wound him. Don't forget; Alduin can devour you, too."

"An army of Tongues is more resistance than Alduin has ever met," Gormlaith spoke up. "He has no army to send here. One Dragonrend is nothing compared to the wealth of Voices we have alongside us."

"Still, don't get too close to his mouth," Nariilu said.

"I never make the same mistake twice."

"No, you make them five or more times at the very least."

"Shut up, Hakon."

Nariilu scoffed. "I meant all of you." She looked at the aura dancing above her. It hadn't moved from night to day since her arrival; Nariilu imagined it was a consequence of Sovngarde being a Void-bound plane. It was still here save for a light breeze swirling the top layer of fog. She turned around to address her cohort. "Alright! I'll keep this brief. After today, Alduin will menace the dead and living no more!"

A yell of agreement rose through her ranks. She continued after the warriors died down. "Tongues! Stagger your Shouts. Keeping Alduin grounded with Dragonrend is paramount to our most glorious victory! Veterans of the Dragon War, I don't need to remind you where the Wyrm is most vulnerable and dangerous, but for those who never faced a dragon in life; his scales are thinnest along his belly and on his wings. Avoid his tail, and his maw above all. His blood is poison; do not let it touch your skin. Shor's most honored dead! The gods will sing of our deeds! Take your positions to vanquish a great evil from all of Aurbis!"