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Rhagol cared little for the forces of the cult for they were pawns and like all pawns, they were useless once their purpose had been served. He kept his height and wanted to play a little game with the mortals. If they seemed to be winning the fight, he would destroy their hopes by snatching victory from them. If they were losing, he would eat them. Either way, they were [&@%!]. He did not like the feeling that touched him a mere few seconds ago and wanted to find out what was the source of it. He would destroy it like he did to the false kings of old. He was the destroyer of men, not the men of dovahs.

Today, Rhagol would be a name that all mortals would [&@%!] their breeches to. He would be the bane of their existence. He would be the Omega. The force that destroys them. The force that binds them to fear. The force that was unstoppable and without a dovahkiin, they had no chance against him. It may have taken several legions and several hundred battles before he was slain the first time but he was rage incarnate. [&@%!] him off and you will die.

Anise couldn't help but be disappointed at the news. "I was looking for Dunmer but it seems there aren't any here." said Anise in a low tone. "I hope your people have an escape plan, unless you know how to kill a Dragon."

Quenthel
"Just make your way there, you'll find your men easy enough. They already have an idea of what to do, but this may take a more...delicate touch which they seem to lack. Now begone, I do not wish to see you until your task is completed, may the dragons watch over you" replied the priest.

Faeth
The man shuddered, but his resolve held, barely. No, the reply came from behind him. "You're going where we damn well put you, you're a weapon, a resource to be used! And you're here to kill these heretics. That satisfy your curiosity, tree hugger?" called the leader from behind him. This put the men at ease once more, even drawing a small laugh from one. With their attention focussed elsewhere, the men didn't notice the final strips of wrist binding that the shard had missed fall from Faeth's wrists, but they couldn't miss the movement of the cloak. "Keep still!" barked the leader.

Archer
Below was a sort of trail, not a designated road, but a small path where the thick wood seemed to divide. Within it were four men dragging a large cage on a cart. They were tense and worried looking. One of the men at the back, the only one in mail, said something, drawing a small laugh. Within the cage was a Bosmer, all hunched in a strange pose due to the cage, but looking surprisingly confident. It looked as though something was to happen here soon, something bloody.

Rahgol
Rahgol soared above the battlefields, watching the isolated engagements. Almost all went to the cult. The main battle had not begun yet, the rebels were content to remain in their camp, whilst the cult were waiting until all reinforcements had arrived. Regardless, the chaos would begin soon. From this aerial theatre, Rahgol would see the whole thing, they'd be able to see the tides of battle, the manoeuvres both sides made and as they retreat, would be able to pick out the running men.

Anise
"Ye mean to say there's more of ye round 'ere?" said the man as they move through the brush "And, ah, don't you worry about them drakes, we got a way of dealin' with em' now. That's what's got the cult so riled up and all" he added, before tripping over a small hole, taking a ridiculously long step, almost doing splits, before righting himself.

Anise raised an eyebrow at the rebel's last statement. She knew he could be overstating their abilities but if it was true she had to know more. "You have a way to kill them?" Anise asked.

Quenthel

"Of course... Father" Quenthel added, feeling like the words would make her retch. She stoically held back any emotion and left the tent as quickly as she had come in and headed towards where her troops would be gathering. She casually observed the occupants of the camp as she did so.

Mortals, Mortals never changed. They always suffered at Rhagol's claws and today, the puny rebels would learn why he is to be feared. He continued to observe the isolated battles going on below and waited for the main event to begin. He was eager to tear them apart and would gain nothing but glory! He had no mortal match. He was an inferno of rage waiting to be unleashed and should the mortals really [&@%!] him off, they would be sure to die in a painful manner.

Faeth grinned widely and then brought his arms up to the cage. "Unlock." He said to the door, channeling altercation through it, coating his right hand in flames and his left in lightning, he walked towards the door, kicking at it to open it.

Hmm, perhaps I should save this fool. He might could lead me to something of worth. Or make a decent thrall. Arnand thought as his fingers drifted to one of the many soul gems hanging on his belt. This small gem contained only a simple wolf, but between it and his spells, Arnand thought the soldiers should be no trouble.
Calling forth the wolf's spirit from within the gem, he waited to see if his spell would be a success.

Anise
"Sure we do, at least, that's what them mages says they was doin'. Course, we weren't all here in the first place, most the folks you see runnin' about are from other camps come to help with our...ah...'issue' which is marchin' straight for us, these mages were working all quiet like. Course, someone couldn't keep quiet or we wouldn't be in this mess." replied the man. "Course, a measly footman like me ain't privy to what it is exactly, just hope it works" he continued, pointing up towards the sky, where a number of dragons could be seen flying low. Beyond them, there was a large black shape, clearly much higher up; it was another dragon. This little group of rebels was making excellent time through the trees, with the incentive of avoiding capture.

Quenthel
The camp was soon becoming a hub of activity, as more and more cultists began to wake and prepare for battle. A myriad of sounds attacked the Mazken's ears; the bellowing of officers and priests, the sharpening of swords and the marching of men. The second camp where her men would muster was not far, she could reach in in perhaps twenty minutes faster at the brisk pace she was moving at.

Rahgol
Looking down, the dragon could see the heretics tightening their defences, pulling in from the outer camps and moving into a centralised, defensive posture. There seemed to be a great deal of movement beneath the trees which fringed the mountainside, but Rahgol saw a small team of heretics try and make a run across an open area of hill grass. A small groups of horseman; a rarity amongst mortals, quickly cut them off, circling them. Distraught, the heretics threw down their weapons. From a great height these scenes were playing out in an amusing miniature fashion.

Faeth
The air around the cage door shimmered slightly, and there was a loud click as the lock shifted. Not as loud as the clang when he kicked it though. It swung outwards as the Bosmer stepped out, reached the edge of its hinges and swung inwards again, catching the elf on his right arm. Regardless, the men near leapt out of their skin. The leader, a clearly more experienced man, brought his weapon to bear; a rusty looking spear. The others clumsily fumbled at their swords. The furthest from Faeth helpfully shouted "He's out, by the drakes he's out!".

Arnand
Being an experienced spellcaster, the familiar wolf spirit materialised without difficulty. Being only a weak soul, it required little magicka to sustain. As Arnand watched, the captive used magic of their own to unlock their cage, and kicked the door open. They appeared to catch themselves on the rebound, and Arnand couldn't help but smirk ever so slightly.

Faeth let out a laugh, which sounded somewhat like a vulture's call as he brought his magic around in a brutal blast, focusing fire on the right and lightning on the left, he unleashed blasts at two opponents, his gaze holding with the leader. "Insult me again.. I dare you!"

The heretics would die and Rhagol knew that. Whilst he could easily take care of any fleeing groups, he was not here to chase down heretics. He was here to destroy the resistance and their rumoured secret of how to kill the Dovahs. He flew at as slightly faster pace and was eager for the slaughter to begin.

Anise was considering leaving, heading back to Undervillage. After all the rebel had said the Dunmer weren't here. But if these people knew how to kill a Dragon she had to find out more about it. That kind of information could save Undervillage one day. "Well, we best catch up with your people. We don't want to be left behind for the Dragons and if they have a way to kill them I want to know more about it." said Anise. She started moving, hoping this rebel would follow. It was then she realized she didn't know his name, nor him hers. She stopped and held out her hand for him to shake. "Anise Saren."

"Go after the one in the back." Arnand commanded, knowing full well a wolf stood no chance against a soldier in mail. But, it would distract him long enough for Arnand to soul trap him. He prepared a ranged spell and waited for the wolf or the bosmer to attack the leader.

Quenthel

Quenthel continued on her way, disappointed that she had not yet seen any dragons. She had more in common with them than these chattering apes. The dragons at least could stop talking to hear their own voice much easier than the mortals could. Regardless, she continued on her path, stopping more than once to trip a soldier that passed by for the fun of it.

Faeth
The spells worked; being fairly simple themselves and Faeth was good enough with his wits. The man in the path of the flame was caught as he began to draw his weapon. The fire burnt as it always does, lighting his hairs, blinding him with pain. He was out of this one. The sparks struck the other after he'd managed to bring an ancient looking shortsword up. He began to advance; the bolt catching him right in the chest. He took another step before emitting something like a cough, turning a deep shade of red. Deeper. Deeper. Smoke rose from his leather jerkin and the skin below. He keeled over, dark death crashing down over his eyes. The leader brought his spear down to charge, a curse on his lips, when what appeared to Faeth as a spectral wolf leapt upon him from behind, first at his neck and then at his ankles the the wolf slid down.

Anise
"Glyndwr, or just Glyn" he answered, taking her hand and giving it a rough shake "Look, if you really got to know, it's them mages up at the camp; they got something hidden in the caves we stick to. The troops don't really get to know, heard all sorts myself... ah! Doesn't matter, come on!"

Arnand
The wolf obeyed and dashed forward, leaping onto the man from behind, as the captive dispatched two of the men himself. That left a nervous looking fellow armed with a sword. The wolf dropped down, attacking the leader's ankles, but having a difficult time of it as he jabbed with his spear and avoided the bites. Even so, he was in range of the soul trap spell which arnand could feel growing in power, ready to be released.

Quenthel
Even so close to the battle, the dragons were not within sight, although the Mazken thought she may have seen something very, very high in the clouds. Finally, she reached her men, who waved to draw her attention. As she approached, one dashed out to meet her. He was about to speak, when he drew in a sharp breath, taken aback by her appearance. Composing himself, he stood to attention "Ma'am, we're all ready. I've been instructed to give you a briefing of our specific orders. When the battle has reached a satisfactory stage, a horn will sound. Our battalion, among others, will advance along this ridge, through the trees behind us, and along until we reach the base of the mountain, where the camp is located. Once there, we are to attack soft targets, that is to say archers or mages should there be any. We will then hold the camp and kill any retreating heretics. Oh, we must also make space for some heavy units which will come through our route to attack the heretics from behind, Ma'am." he said, rather breathlessly. Quenthel could see the landmarks and was able to trace their course as he ran through it. These soldiers were somewhat a cut above the rest, wearing proper mail and sturdy looking weapons. Beneath their shirts Quenthel could see padded aketons and other forms of armour. These were soldiers.

Faeth turned the magics around, from death dealing to life giving. Twin bolts of life to rush towards the corpses he just made, at least he'd have means of asking where he was to go, the spectral wolf was best ignored for now, the leader was occupied and so the werevulture turned to the 4th and last guard, gathering frost in his hands. "Surrender and I might spare you."

A grin formed on Arnand's face as he let the spell fly. Quickly, he prepared a lightning bolt and fired it at the leader. "What a wonderful pet you'll make." he laughed.

Quenthel

Quenthel nodded and raised her arm in an old legionaire's gesture of command. The Mazken chuckled at the irony of commanding the descendants of the fallen empire in such a way. "

"Form up, Mortals! Wedge formation, shields up and pikes forward!" The Mazken commanded, taking her Waraxe from her belt and raised it skyward. She was used to commanding other daedra, she wasn't sure how to proceed with mortals though she suspected it was the same in the end.

Anise followed Glyn without another word going to meet up with the other rebels.

Rhagol continued to observe the goings on down below and did not want to appear until the real battle emerged. He would scare them. Their weapons were pricks, their armour was cotton, their souls belong to Alduin and Rhagol would destroy them like he did those who dared to battle him in combat. Unlike his lesser brethren, he did not land unless he intended to tear them apart with his claws. Unlike the fools that fought on land, he never allowed the mortals to hit him repeatly whilst trying to claw them. He was Rhagol and they, were his targets. An inferno would be born tonight and he, Rhagol the destroyer would be the one to ignite it. He would leave no man alive and it was up to the cult to stay out of his way. Only, there was a slight issue with doing that. He was [&@%!] Rhagol! He did not give a [&@%!] about who he hit as long as it killed the fools that resisted Alduin!

Faeth and Arnand
The 4th guard whimpered, before launching a half hearted lunge with his sword. His strength had left him. Faeth's spells were partially successful, one of the men; the one who had fallen to the lightning bolt, coughed and sat up, a blue haze over his eyes. The man who had been dispatched by flame, moved slightly, but his flesh still burned, his corpse was beyond a useful state. The leader was struck from behind by a lightning bolt, which projected across his mail, shocking his entire body. He remained standing for a moment, before toppling forward. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as wafts of black smoke drifted from his corpse.

Quenthel
The soldiers obeyed her commands with precision. They made swift progress towards their goal. As they moved, the cultist force advanced up the main valley, within their sight, and were met by small skirmishing bands from the rebels. Using hit and run tactics, they harassed the main force before falling back to where a larger band of resistance member were waiting behind a crude line of stakes in the ground.As the main cultist force approached, hails upon hails of arrows fell down upon them. But their had strength in numbers, and advanced undeterred. Far above, a dragon bellowed, and the horde charged up the hill towards the stakes.

Anise
Making good time the small band of insurgents arrived at the main camp. However, it was almost abandoned. Through the tents and crude structures, they could see rebels firing arrows down one of the hillsides. Suddenly, a dragon roared, literally shaking the company. "That'll be them! Old gods, please, if any of what ma' said was true!, 'elp us" exclaimed Glyn. He looked confused for a moment, but then the indecision on his face turned to fear. He looked off to the east of the camp, gesturing to Anise to look. She couldn't see anything notable there. It was only when Glyn started off in that direction did she realise he was fleeing.

Rahgol
Rahgol's thoughts were interrupted by the roar of one of his lesser kin below him. Looking down, he saw the great host of cultists charge at the heretics hiding behind their weak shield.

Fool, don't reveal our positions until the slaughter begins. Rhagol thought to himself as he flew to the left after watching the servants of Alduin charge against the heretic's and their weak shield. Oh, the fools did not know of their fortune as he could flatten them without warning. He was starting to get a bit impatient at the waiting part of the slaughter as the urge to warm up started to flare up within him but no, he must focus on the slaughter lest the element of surprise and fear was lost.