Dragonborn Rising Ch. 07

Gozarth said that at the last minute a Justicar had approached them yesterday and asked if they would like to cut a deal. Participate in the test and if they lived, the charges would be dropped and they would be free to go. "Anything is better than the executioner's axe," he concluded.

Androna told them the test wasn't as easy as he thought it would be. "The Thalmor have found a way to control Dwemer automatons and we're the ones who get to play with a centurion," she said.

"Fucking clankers," said Gozarth, as several of the Imperials muttered curses at their situation. "They can be tough, especially barehanded," he concluded.

"What's his story," said Gozarth, nodding his head in Mithinar's direction, as he scratched his crotch.

"He oversaw the project," and she snapped a finger saying, "Maybe he knows something that can help us."

Androna stepped around the pool and knelt by the older elf as the others in the cell closed in to listen to any information that could help them survive. "Mithinar, what can you tell us about the centurion," she said shaking him to snap him out of his stupor.

Just then, there was a grating sound above their heads. All except the old Altmer looked up. A crack had appeared in the ceiling high overhead, as it began to retract. More light was added below and Androna saw how filthy they all were. Shoving the thought aside, because her current cleanliness was the least of her worries, she took Mithinar again and screamed, "Dammit, old man. Wake up!"

The sound grew louder as the hatch above by inches, slowly retracted. Everyone's eyes squinted at the light and this also served to help roust Mithinar. His eyes blinked and seemed to fix on Androna. He gazed at her wide-eyed and said, trying to avert his eyes, "By the Eight girl, put some clothes on. Your naked!"

She reached out and grabbed his face in her hands and focused his eyes on hers. "Mithinar, she shouted, "Tell me about the centurion. How can we defeat it?"

He smiled with recognition at the statement. "The war machine," he said," and continued saying, "It's very impressive." He listed off its weaponry which included a crossbow and the ability to emit scalding hot steam from its mouth. It could engage up to four targets almost simultaneously with its distance weapons and a retractable battle ax and lance. "It's quite powerful," he summarized to the groans of several of the Imperials that looked on.

Androna shook the Altmer's head again sand said, "Mithinar, there's got to be a weak point," and shouted, "What is it?"

"We couldn't fully repair the right knee," he said dreamily and continued by saying, "There's only twelve bolts in the crossbow."

He was going to continue, but he was cut off by the noise of the hatch being retracted. Oh well, he thought, they'll find out soon enough about the explosives. He felt bad about getting Androna in this mess. Despite her being upset with him, he thought she was a very efficient Justicar.

"Androna," he began, as she again looked at him, "I'm sorry for getting you in this mess. I was only trying to be efficient for the Ambassador."

She smiled weakly and said, "That's okay. Do what we tell you and both of us may just get out of this mess."

With the added sunlight, the cell was warming up and the grim that coated all of them was drying to a grey film on their skins and the floor.

A voice from above called down, "Hey move away from the walls and watch you heads!"

As they watched, several guards had moved a large barrel to the edge of the pit that now existed. They saw that a rope was attached to it. Two guards pushed it over the edge, causing dust and small pebbles to fall. The barrel was lowered as they moved out of its way. When it hit the floor of the cell, they saw they it contained a variety of weapons.

Gozarth stepped forward with a toothy orcish grin and said, "That's what I'm talking about," as he reached for a massive and vicious looking two-handed sword. "They're giving us back our weapons," he said.

The orc looked at her and asked, "What are you going to do?"

She smiled, raised her grimy hands in front of her. Wiggling her fingers, she said, "I'm trained as a battle mage. I can handle myself and provide covering fire." She looked at his cohorts as they were retrieving their weapons and asked, "Are any of your people spellcasters?"

One of them raised a hand and said, "I'm Devon. I'm a fire mage."

Androna smiled and said, "That's good," and took the initiative, "Gozarth, when we get up there, we'll need to spread out and hit the centurion from different directions. Devon and I will take care of the ranged attacks, while the rest of your crew move in close. Don't stay in one place, though."

"I agree," he grunted. He nodded his head in the direction of Mithinar and asked, "What about him?"

She glanced down at the older elf and then back to the orc, "I'll try to cover him, but he's on his own."

"Androna," growled the orc, "If I have to rescue that cute little ass of yours because of him," pointing at Mithinar, "When we get out of this, you're my bitch."

Before she could respond, the floor began to shake, jarring everyone. Androna and Devon moved to drag Mithinar away from the wall as the floor began its slow rise to the stadium above.

"Showtime," growled Gozarth as he checked the edge of his sword and flexed his massive arms.

In the stands above, Elenwen saw the grimy heads of the prisoners come into view. She smiled when she saw they were all naked. Seeing Androna and then the form of the massively powerful orc, she thought audibly, "What a waste."

"What was that," commented Fiiriel, who was standing next to her.

"Just thinking out loud," she smirked.

Androna was supporting Mithinar with one hand and used the other to shield her eyes from the sun. She glanced around and saw they were near the center of the stadium. Behind them, she saw Elenwen and the rest of the Thalmor observers in the stands. In front of them, the massive doors had been opened and the centurion stood there motionless, bolted into a large gantry, the housing war machines rested in when they weren't active. It was several times the size of Gozarth. He muttered, "Fucking clankers," as he saw it.

The other Imperials either cursed at the reality of the situation or just groaned.

The grinding noise stopped when the cell floor became level with the stadium floor. Without a word, Fiiriel withdrew a red handkerchief from the sleeve of his robe and waved it in the air. At the signal the guards who had surround the opening retreated to the safety of cover.

"Fucking cowards," laughed Gozarth.

The little band spread out as Androna muttered several words and suddenly a glowing disk of light appeared in front of her.

Gozarth glanced at her sideways as she said, "I hope a ward will help protect us."

From the stands, Fiiriel waved the handkerchief again and from somewhere in the stadium a lever was thrown. A loud whirring sound was heard as jets of steam appeared from the joints of the centurion as it came to life. This was followed by the clanking of the retraining bolts on the gantry retracting and the massive war machine stepped forward. It's eyes glowing and head on a swivel, scanning for targets. It locked it eyes on the group in the middle of the stadium in front of it and raised it left arm.

"Scatter!" shouted Gozarth as a volley of three bolts was fired.

The group scattered in all directions, except Androna. She stepped away from Mithinar to make two separate targets and hoped the ward would protect him. Sadly, it didn't and they all realized they were in desperate straits.

The first bolt went wide, barely missing Devon, with the second missing Gozarth. The third hit a wide-eyed Mithinar, squarely in the chest and the stadium was rocked by the near simultaneous explosions. Mithinar was all but vaporized in the blast, showering Androna with blood and gore. She was hurled several feet and landed face first in the dirt, stunned.

She thought other explosions were taking place, but as she looked up with her ears ringing from the first set of blasts she saw the centurion was advancing on her. It moved incredibly fast for its size. As it did so, the housing of its right forearm rotated, and a massive collapsible battle axe appeared.

For a moment she was frozen with terror, but suddenly her hearing cleared and she heard Gozarth screaming, "Androna, move your ass! Get the hell out of there!"

As the battle axe swung down, she rolled at the last second, barely missing being cut in two. She scampered away and then got to her feet as the head of the war machine exploded in flame. Thank the gods, for Devon, she thought.

Gaining some distance, she zig-zagged away and then turned. She saw that Devon's fireball had done slight damage to the centurion. It wheeled and began engaging two of Gozarth's men. While she had the chance, she waved her hands in front of her and she was immediately enveloped in blueish-green light. She wasn't going to be caught off-guard again, she thought, and the stoneflesh enchantment would provide her with a small degree of protection at least.

She followed this up with a bolt of lightning that she cast on the run, the electricity leaping from her fingertips of her outstretched hand. It hit the centurion in the head. It staggered back and then turned to see where the attack came from as it cut down one of the Imperials.

Simultaneously, the war machine turned to its other close opponent and thrust its right arm in his direction. A razor-sharp lance appeared from the forearm housing that impaled the Imperial bandit. With a metallic whir, the war machine flicked its wrist and the hapless Imperial was flung through the air, in a gush of crimson.

From the stands, Elenwen was mesmerized by the display taking place in front of her. Clearly this was a fearsome weapon and she could see its value to the Thalmor in any coming war.

The survivors of the centurion's first assaults spread from each other and tried to encircle it. There was a momentary lull as the war machine attempted to process the threats, its gleaming metallic head on a constant swivel.

Androna was trying to maneuver to get a clear shot on the machine's right knee. Not taking her eyes off their foe, she shouted, "Devon, hit it with some flames. I'm going to move to hit it in the knee!"

As she shot to the left, Devon brought both hands out in front of him and two streams of searing hot flame appeared. Both hit the centurion in the head and it raised it left hand to block, while it fired a volley of bolts with the right.

Androna screamed to warn the fire mage, but it was too late. Another series of explosions echoed across the stadium and the odds became three defenders against the attacking centurion.

Gozarth and the other bandit never stayed in one place constantly jinking and darting to throw-off the war machine's aim.

Gozarth's sole remaining partner shouted to her, "High Elf, distract it and I'll go for the knee."

She thought the Imperial's name was Julius and she gave him a thumb's up. She waved her hands and near the machine a portal opened. She summoned the only creature she had the ability to, a frost atronach, not realizing its weakness against heat and flame until the last minute.

When the massive ice elemental appeared and charged the centurion, the war machine pivoted to respond to this new threat. At the same time bandit darted in, as Gozarth screamed, "Julius, no!"

The centurion mouth port opened and a gout of hot steam issued from it. The wave of heat slammed into the atronach. As it vaporized in a screech of pain, its humidity added intensity to the steam that Julius ran into headlong. He screamed in agony, dropping his sword and began rolling on the ground in pain. The centurion swiveled seeing the near target on the ground and produced the battle axe and dispatched him with a single bloody stroke.

The centurion's head swiveled and ascertained its remaining threats. It calculated the ranged attacks of the spellcaster was more pressing and began moving in Androna's direction, as she swung wide and shot massive bolts of electricity form both her outstretched hands. Both hit the side of the right knees joint and caused it to buckle.

Slowing its advance, she was about to fire a series of second bolts, when she slipped. Not realizing where she was, she had run into the remains of Mithinar and had lost traction on the gore. She landed on her side in the mess and quickly rolled over to see the giant automaton had quickly closed on her. She saw that the bloody battle axe was being raised for a killing blow.

She had only one chance and used her free hand to fire a bolt of lighting at the machine's knee joint. The impact of the massive bolt shattered the joint and it fell onto it's side was a shuddering crash. As she got to her feet, she saw its eyes were locked on her as she tried to run. It could still use its deadly lance and she tried to get out it's kill arc, when there was a loud clanging sound and the head lolled to the side.

In the chaos she had created, Gozarth had charged in and had begun swinging his massive two-handed sword as hard as he could. Sparks flew, and a mechanical screeching noise echoed through the stadium, as if the war machine was screaming in pain from the flurry of blows. After several were landed a wide gash appeared in the metal. Gozarth shifted the sword's position and with a massive grunt, shoved the orcish weapon into the machine's brains and began stirring it in a circular motion and the centurion shutdown.

Giving the war machine a wide berth, Androna circled around to see the orc panting and covered in the sweat of his exertion. He growled, placed a massive foot against the centurion's head and yanked. With a metal-on-metal scream, the blade came free. It glistened with oil from the automaton's internal systems. As his chest continued to heave, he muttered, "I hate fucking clankers."

Androna grateful to be alive ran to him and hugged him. She never thought she would be grateful for an orismer's help, but she realized she would have been dead without his intervention. With his free hand he patted her grimy back and ignoring the onlookers, they headed toward the open doors where guards were now beginning to congregate.

As they limped from the field, Androna asked, "So tell me, what does a bitch do?"

Gozarth grunted a tired chuckle as he was dragging his sword, "Anything, I fucking tell you to."

She nodded thoughtfully, digesting the information and inquired, "Any thoughts on where you'd like to go?"

"Anyplace, but here," he grunted and asked, "Cyrodiil has lost its charm. How about you?"

"Skyrim, so I can royally fuck-up Elenwen's plans," Androna deadpanned.

"But you're a Thalmor," he shot back.

She looked up at him and then over her shoulder to the onlookers in the stand. With her grim and bloodstained features set in a determined scow, she snapped "Fuck Elenwen and the Thalmor," she added, "Don't ever call me that, again!"

In the stands Fiiriel's staff were feverishly chatting about the results of the test. Elenwen sat motionless. She was certain the machine would have quickly rid her of the pair she had all but sentenced to death. Picking-up her tea cup, she quietly said, "Impressive," and then drained it.

After a moment, Fiiriel meekly stepped to the Ambassador's side, "My Lady," he said getting her attention and continued by saying, "Although the test wasn't completely successful. We feel it provided some very positive results."

Not taking her eyes off the wreckage in the stadium, Elenwen said, "Very well."

She thought about it a moment. Turning to the new minister in-charge, she coolly said, "You have thirty-days to have twenty centurions ready and deployed to Bruma for action in Skyrim."