Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24449631-20140917204356/@comment-24685738-20140926211900

The Siege of Morthal had lasted for days.

While most of the Imperial Force that had been stationed there had been defeated in the Second Siege of Dawnstar, as it was now called, the few remaining troops were fighting bravely. Kor’s troops weren’t gaining much ground.

If the hydromancers could just push forward, to the bridge…

Kor sat in his tent, eyeing a map of the town. “Idgrod certainly knows how to counter us…” He mused. “How can we remedy that, hmmm?”

Foolishly, Kor had brought only Hydromancers to this battle, deeming the city of Morthal too small and hard to defend to be of any challenge. Plus, he always thought that the aeromancers, terramancers, and pyromancers were all too inconsequential and useless.

Only now did he realize his idiocy. Any of those three groups could have helped him a lot at this point. The aeromancers could have simply leaped over the defenses. The Terramancers could have brought them down. And the pyromancers could have burned all of the Imperial Soldiers to the ground.

He sighed. The battle was still raging outside. Eventually, he would have to go outside and start fighting, himself. That’s how bad the battle was going, for Asin’s troops.

After a few hours, Kor was starting to rethink this battle strategy. He couldn’t just sit inside his tent the whole time. A lesser man might, but not Kor.

He walked out of his tent, holding his head high, and climbed up onto his grey horse. He began to ride to the site of the battle, stopping near his troops’ position. Most of the men were pinned down, hiding behind large, recently made ice walls to keep from being hit by arrows.

“My Jarl!” One of the men shouted. “Get down!”

Kor ignored them, continuing to ride towards the Imperials’ lines. The Legion shifted uneasily. This man was either very brave… or very stupid.

“Archers!” The Legate yelled, and strings were pulled back as men loaded arrows and released them.

Few even came close to Kor. Those that did were deflected by shields of ice that appeared whenever he needed them. The only sign that he was doing anything were small, jerking movements of his hands, as opposed to the large, flowing movements that the usual hydromancers used.

The Imperials shifted, worriedly. Every the grey horse stepped, a fog crept in. The fog, however, was moving rapidly before Kor, towards the Imperial Ranks.

Kor’s hydromancers saw what he was doing and began to do it themselves, causing the fog to rapidly grow and swell, slipping over Morthal and holding it in a dense grip of fear. Women clutched to their children in fear. Men quailed in their boots, gripping their weapons.

Cries of pain began to form among the Imperial army, as hydromancers slipped among them and murdered them, drowning them or stabbing them with ice.

The courage of Idgrod’s troops was hanging by a thread. No one knew where the enemy was, and if they would be next…

One man screamed and ran, terrifying many of the others. Soon, there was mass panic. They began to run back towards the bridge, crossing it to get to the rest of the town. The hydromancers gave whoops of joy and ran after them. Now that they were above a massive river, they had the advantage…

The hydromancers worked together, raising the water together in a massive, icy wave. Throwing their hands forward, the water responded. It crashed down upon the city, washing the Legion away. However, the foundations of the buildings were too old and strong to be destroyed so easily. They stood, unyielding, among the icy torrent.

If the hydromancers kept the water going for so long, they would change the course of the river permanently. Already, the bay at which the town sat upon was no much larger, and many of the buildings were standing in the water.

The Jarl’s house still stood, on solid ground, and walked over to it. Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone stood on the front porch of her house, staring out at the devastation that had been wrought by this power…

“What devilry is this?!” Idgrod yelled, to Kor.

He floated over to her on a chunk of ice he had created and stepped onto the dock. “Well, Jarl, we have a problem. It seems the city has been taken. And now, we have to decide what to do… with you…”

Idgrod the Younger peered out from the window, and Kor eyed her, calmly. “Ah, the new Jarl!” He laughed.

Both Idgrods frowned, at once. “What?!” The Elder shrieked, confused. “Me…?” The Younger said softly, also confused.

“Well…” Kor began, slowly. “You are an… interesting girl. In fact, Asin, king of the united holds of Whiterun, the Pale, and now Hjaalmarch, wants to meet with you.”

“Me…?” Idgrod the Younger whispered again, before straightening up. “If I am to be Jarl, I want my family freed.”

“I… can’t do that.” Kor said, stunned by the determination of the girl. “However… I’ll… keep them alive.”

Idgrod the Younger nodded, and turned to embrace her mother. The old woman was pale as snow, and in her eyes was a cold, angry fire. “Be good, girl…” She whispered to her daughter, before letting herself be led away.

Idgrod turned back to Kor, breathing heavily. However, the same steely determination that her mother had shown multiple times seemed to be in her now. “Take me to ‘King Asin.’”