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Fandom Elder Scrolls - Akaviri’s Rise [Closed]

RENARYN
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Heeding the cats' advice, Renaryn made his way towards the opened exit, or at least attempted to, given his condition. The Dunmer climbed to his feet, his wounded leg aching with a fury. Trembling, he made a cautious step forward, and his ankle gave way, plunging him back the ground. Fool! Renaryn thought, gasping, squirming. I'm going to die down here. In this nowhere. Brought down by foreign savages...

No.

He would not die here, not by some wretched n'wah's hand. They were not worthy for him. He was Renaryn Uvalas, a Dunmer of Morrowind, a Master of House Telvanni, and he refused to die like a helpless worm.

All around, the sounds of rioting rang in the air as men fought, screamed, and died. The prisoners resisted, but were breaking apart, with many rushing to the door as they were cut down by Kamal. The Akaviri fought like hunters; packs of three or four prowled from one exchange to another, falling on lone individuals with brutal bloodlust. A warden's corpse crashed down to the ground beside Renaryn, its snowy white head split open by a pickaxe. The elf's eyes looked towards the dead demon's belt, and found a loaded keyring at his hip. Sweet Spirit of Azura! he thought. Renaryn propelled himself, crawling like a child as he ripped the ring from the warden's belt. Feet slammed into the ground around his hand, almost crushing his fingers, but he paid them no mind.

Renaryn selected keys, fingers shaking as he shoved each into the collar's catch. At last, it sprang open and fell away from his throat. With an expression of wonder, he touched his neck. The flow of magicka returned to him in an instant, and its power filled him. It was like being bathed in light, with the Light, like becoming one with Aetherius itself, a glorious ecstasy. Renaryn climbed back to his feet, fighting to keep himself from becoming overwhelmed, and focused on the enemy before him.

A Kamal barreled with reckless abandon towards Renaryn with a lengthy monster of a nodachi in his hands. The Dunmer inhaled; the warden brought his sword down.
Renaryn Uvalas erupted, letting his rage flow into his adversary, twisting the magicka as it burned from him into the snow demon. It screamed in agony as its body blackened and blistered, flames raging across its once-white fur. The Kamal dropped its sword and swung its arms wildly as it collapsed to the ground and fell still forever. Once it had died, Renaryn focused his magicka into his ankle, performing the most basic spell known the school of Restoration. His flesh knitted back together, his pain lessened. He would limp on this leg for a while yet, but at least it was functional.
 
Kaliran watched as Moonface, instead of looking for a passage as planned, instead rushed towards the now opened gates, opened by the other guards rushing in to assist the Warden. It seemed like a stupid plan at first, that is until Moonface actually seemed to have managed to slip between the guards and going unnoticed as she exited through the gate. One would think that she would just go and abandon the rest of them to either be killed or be once more enslaved by the guards. Contrary to what one may expect though, it seemed that Moonface was not abandoning them just yet seeing as she had, somehow, managed to keep the door open and prevent it from being closed by the guards and proceeded to attack Kamal guards that she comes across. Judging by how the Kamal starts twit hing and falling to the ground, it would seem that she coated her claws in some type of paralyzing agent. Clever girl.

Moonface’s cry seemed to have served as a wake up call of sorts, seeing as the other prisoners started to join this riot, running towards the exit and attacking guards that stands in their way. Most of them are severly outclassed, using nothing but their fists and picks as weapons, but their desperation and numbers allow them to slowly push the guards back. There were a few notable exceptions, those who actually manage to fight back properly. There was Moonface, a lizardman with curved blades, and two ashfolks scorching Kamals left and right. Kaliran could not spare his attention towards them however, seeing as he currently has his hands full with a bigger threat.

The Warden wasn’t chosen for no reason. He was strong, managing to pull back the chains just enough to avoid getting his windpipe crushed. Kaliran’s muscles tensed and bulged as he started exerting more force into tightening the chain around the Warden’s neck. It helped that one of the prisoners charged towards the Warden and slammed the Warden in the head. The woman seemed to be here for the helm the Warden wore, which meant it was likely hers. Just when Kaliran thought that he could gain the upper hand, the Warden seemed to have a couple more tricks in store for him. His watched in frustration and annoyance as thick ice covered the Warden’s throat, keeping it safe from being crushed. With his hands free the Warden used his whip on Kaliran’s arms, which proceeded to then start spreading frost on his arms.

Kaliran growled in pain and anger, his long and sharp fangs gleaming as his eyes started twitching. Kaliran raised his feet, and with a blink of an eye sent it crashing down on the Warden’s head. “KEEP! *crash!* YOUR! *crash!* FILTHY! *crash!* HANDS! *crash!* OFF! *crash!* ME! *crash!*” With every word he roared, his feet came crashing down on the Warden’s head. He ignored the frost that continues to spread across his arms as his entire focus is on crushing the Warden’s head like an egg.

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The clamour of battle echoed through the corridors, louder and louder as the rogue drew closer to its source. As she rounded the last bend, fingers tightly gripping her bow, the scene before her was far more chaotic than she'd envisaged. The guards were a mess; disorganised and being surprisingly overwhelmed by the prisoners. It was a wonder they were ever caught in the first place as they battled against the Akaviri with seeming ease.

Her bow creaked with satisfaction as she pulled the string taut, and she felt a strange sensation of excitement as the arrow was loosed, whistling towards her target. The first arrow thudded heavily into the neck of a Kamal, and with no moment to spare the second was knocked and tightly drawn. A couple of the guards had turned on her, straining to spot the rogue down the narrow and dark corridor. The faint rushing of air was heard only too late as the next arrow struck its mark, embedding deeply in another guard's skull.

The remaining came rushing towards her, shield raised and blade poised to strike. The Breton was fast to act, throwing her bow upon her back and drawing a small blade. She ran towards the Tsaesci, not wishing to be caught in the corridor against a shielded opponent, and broke into the light of the cavern, kicking up dust as she dashed towards the guard. His defence was sturdy, and as she thrust forwards her blow was easily deflected by the creature, and it wasted no time in bearing down upon her. Evangeline was shoved off balance by his shield, and as she was knocked backwards, the beast brought its blade down towards her in a precise arc, aimed for her neck.

The Breton fell away desperately, landing heavily on her back as the blade danced past her by a hair's breadth. The Tsaesci slithered forwards with frightening speed, as Evangeline was forced to kick back against the ground and roll into a kneeling position barely in time to stop the creature bashing her a second time. She met his shield with her shoulder, resisting his strength and remaining stable. The guard brought his sword round towards the Breton, though with her spare hand she gripped the wall of steel and span towards his shield arm. In doing so she forced his arm forward and in the path of the blade, deflecting his own blow as she brought her dagger around and drove it hard into the creature's ribs.

A guttural growl sounded from the Tsaesci as it smashed its shield against her once more, knocking her backwards. Her grip failed, and she released her blade as she fell away. The blow had bruised her arm, she could feel the dull ache in the limb, wincing as she tried to move it and unsheathe her second dagger. The guard, dagger still stuck in his side, advanced towards the rogue, though noticeably slower. Blood spilled from the wound, the blade almost loosely stuck, for as she'd been knocked away it had gouged a larger hole. Evangeline advanced also, staring her opponent down. He rushed, shield raised as he made to strike. Evangeline had expected this, and as she moved aside the creature lowered its guard with blade already swinging down in a wide motion towards the Breton.

Caught off guard, Evangeline raised her bruised arm angling it such as that the sword struck and deflected off of the leather guard. She shouted in pain, but wasted no time in bringing herself forwards against the creature. With his sword arm pressed tightly against his chest, the guard raised his shield, but already the Breton's free hand was gripped tightly around the hilt of her dagger and she gave a vicious yank. The blade bore through the Tsaesci's flesh, a sickening tearing and cracking a she ravaged the wound before bringing the blade out and sinking it deep into the creature's throat. He gargled and spluttered as blood spilled from his mouth, and more so from the wound in his chest, before Evangeline backed away. The rogue took a moment to glance about the room, unconsciously rubbing her injured arm. The guards were many, but so were the prisoners, and they seemed to handle themselves well.

Evangeline retreated slightly. With her arm hurt she'd be no good with her bow, and if she tried to fight another guard so recklessly she would die. She was no fighter, and these creatures were trained for battle. She looked down upon the open cavern, but saw no sign of whom she searched for... the best thing now would be to help the prisoners escape, and question them after. The rogue watched on at the scene below, as the Warden was violently brutalised by some kind of giant cat.

"HEY!" She called down to him as he proceeded to stomp on the Kamal's skull, and to any prisoner listening, "Use these!" She tossed down the guard's sword and shield, and proceeded to do the same with the weapons of her other two victims. Her outburst had gotten the attention of yet another guard, whom grinned knowingly at her arm clutched to her chest. Evangeline gulped audibly, backing slowly away from the Kamal giant.
 
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Chaos broke.
Prisoners revolted.
General mischief ensued.

Maroluna stood in the chaos of it all as the prisoners came running at the guards from the shadows, wielding just about anything as weapons. Apparently her call had become something akin to a rallying cry for these poor desperate souls.
She had delivered something they hadn’t seen in a while; a light at the end of the tunnel- Hope. And when hope was on the horizon, even the most atrofied and weak could find strength somewhere within them to fight.

Luna wanted to make sure everyone got out. She didn’t risk her own fur for them to get caught again. The short woman and the Argonian got out, the two dunmer were on fire (Probably Ancestral Wrath... she hopes), Kaliran was still wrestling with the warden and... everyone else... they seemed fine.
Time to deal with the Warden.

Quickly, she dropped to a crouch and moved passed all the people. Once she found a favorable angle, she pulled out her vial of Paralyzing agent and shouted, “HEY! MIND YOUR HEAD!” Before chucking the glass vial right into the face of the Warden. The glass shattered, cutting up his face, delivering the paralytic directly to his blood. She then jumped over him to Kaliran’s side, uncorked a Frost resistance potion with her teeth and pouring it over Kaliran’s icy hands and arms.

Come on big guy! Let’s get out of here!” She grabbed his arm, gave it a tug, and rushed off to where the Argonian left.

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VARION
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The mine fell into disarray. The prisoners and wardens clashed; sounds of fighting, screaming, and the clangor of steel rung through the air. Varion held his ground, armed with nothing but his pick. Raising his weapon, the Breton let out a war cry as he dashed forward to combat his adversaries. A snow demon stepped in his path, a wakizashi gripped in his hand. It was easily a head taller than him, with some kind of light armor covering his fur, but he wore no helmet. His sword, longer and sharper, clashed with the bard's pick. Varion kicked him away and struck back, but the Kamal recovered first, deflecting the blow before it could dig into his left shoulder. Varion's exposed torso was an easy target, but he sidestepped his thrust and retreated. The warden closed in, fueled more by anger than common sense. Recognizing this, he spun out of his way, but not before putting his leg out to trip him. On the ground, face in the dirt, he gave the guard a quick death by embedding his pick in his skull.

A chest hit the ground in the corner of his eye, which Varion immediately recognized as the evidence box. Aha! He ran towards the chest where Maroluna gathered what possessions she could carry. Within a few eyeblinks, she was gone, off to cut down guards with poisoned claws. Varion fell to his knees to dig through the box, feeling fortunate that he'd made it there before it had been picked clean. It wasn't difficult for him to pick out his pack, given how garish and expensive it was. Mercifully, his harp and flute had been kept in pristine condition, still inside their polished redwood cases.

Satisfied, the Breton moved to rise, but felt something seize him by his leg and drag him across the ground. He dropped the pack, flailing for purchase as he was swung through the air and dropped down on his back. A booming voice rang out above his head, speaking a language unfamiliar to him. Varion stared up at his attacker, a demon even bigger than the last. His eyes were black, narrowed with rage. Immediate fear coursed through him as the Kamal raised its weapon, but suddenly it paused. Drops of warm blood splattered across Varion's tunic as the warden coughed, and he staggered back, repulsed by the sticky spray. The warden slips to the ground, revealing two long ice spikes protruding from its back. Ten yards back, a lean elf with charcoal skin and molten red eyes strode purposefully towards the box.

Varion could barely get a word out before the Dunmer pulled him to his feet and shoved his pack into his hands. The mage whirled around, reaching into the box for his own bag, which looked to be overflowing with packages of tea leaves. "Be ready to run." the elf said curtly, slinging the bag over his shoulder. His voice was hard and coarse. Varion had just enough time to fasten his sword belt. "You certainly seem to be enjoying the party." he quipped. The Dunmer glanced back at him, wearing the faintest hint of a smirk. "I try." The two of them stood back to back, preventing each other from being attacked from behind. "We need to move" said the dark elf. "I'll watch your back and make sure no guard comes near us."
"Understood." Varion replied, smiling for the first time in weeks. "Just make sure to leave one or two for me. I'll need the practice."

They dashed towards the exit.
 
A huge grin unknowingly spread across Kaliran’s face as his feet continues to meet the face of the Warden. It’s like all of his pent up anger and frustration melts away with the icy blue blood spilling from the Warden’s skull as he stomped on it again and again like one might do to an annoying cockroach. *splat!* *crash!* *splat!* *crash!* It went as he continued stomping his feet as if practicing a particularly intense tap dance routine. He ignored the frost climbing up his arms, too focused in breaking the Warden’s skull open to care about something as trivial as frostbitten limbs.

His cathartic stomping was interrupted when Moonface ran up to him and shouted “MIND YOUR HEAD!” as she threw a bottle of something on the Warden’s head. Kaliran had enough foresight and awareness to stop beating the shit out of the Warden lest whatever was in that bottle stick to him as well, and judging from the completely still body of the Warden, it was wise to do so. It was then that the Khajiit applied something on his now nearly frozen limbs, which caused to to slowly thaw. “So you do care.” Kaliran smugly teased the short Khajiit, grinning with delight. Kaliran broke the now frozen chains, easily breaking the frozen and brittle metal.

He was about to leave when the Warden’s weapon caught his eye. “Well, migh as well use it.” Kaliran said, hoping that whatever Moonface applied on his arms will prevent the whip from freezing his again. Thankfully, his arms remains unfrozen and the whip not freezing him. To add insult to injury Kaliran spit on the Warden’s face before departing the mine and following Moonface. Kaliran saw the chest which, from what he saw, contained their belongings. A grin once more broke upon his face as he lifted a strange weapon from the chest. It seemed to be a spear, yet where the spear head should be there was instead a scimitar like blade jutting out of it. What makes it even more absurd is that it seemed to have been made with Kaliran’s size in consideration, resulting in a weapon taller than even some people.

“Too bad I can’t use it yet.” He muttered, noting the tight chambers and knowing that his weapon would not be quite effective right now. He instead strapped his weapon across his back and wrapped the Warden’s whip around one of his massive fists. Just in time to test its effectiveness a Tsaesci guard approached him with a weapon drawn. Kaliran wasted no time introducing his fist to the guard’s face, and judging from how quickly the guard collapsed, they apparenly hit it off quite nicely. The frost forming across the guard’s face was also a nice bonus.

Having tested the effectiveness of his makeshift weapon, Kaliran hurried to follow the Khajiit, which was honestly quite easy with his long stride. “So what’s the plan Moonface? There’s definitely a fuckton of guards outside the prison, not to mention we’re instead one of their cities.” He said as he caught up to her. Kaliran had no plans other than to follow the Khajiit since he had no knowledge about this continent.

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