I have not abandoned you all. I am just in the process of moving and starting a new occupation. It’s eating up more time than I would like, but I will return soon enough. Have patience.
Also, if there is anything you’d like to see explored on here, feel free to comment below!
Lo, a dragon fight!
Out of the snow,
Two dragons did soar-
Laying down fire
Trying to incinerate that heroic whore!
“Not this day,” Cornelius’ voice did thunder
His blade was set,
His thu’um, ready, to tear the twin beasts asunder.
“You believe your cries a threat?
Aye. Just practice you are!”
Beneath the raining havoc of fire burned twice
Cornelius took hold of his future wife-
“Serana, my love, should our Fate be grim,
Give me a kiss, and don’t hold thy tongue in!”
“Your breath runs afoul of leaking Skeever arse,
All that rotten meat, clinging to your teeth.
I shall not press my mouth upon your blistering, leathery lips.
You have done nothing for me, since our paths intertwined!
When dragons show up,
You flee to the hills!
‘Run for your lives!’ your girlish voice booms.
Some hero you are. Those legends? Merely a farce!”
“Know thee not the art of war, woman?” Cornelius’ tongue did lash.
His voice a Daedric fury,
Soiled by the surly drink newly emptied from his flask.
“A tactical retreat! It was no less!
My hardened, veteran eyes saw opposition,
and I sought the high ground.
‘Twas a warrior’s decree-
The mark of a grand general.
No battle is won running wildly down the center
Swords held high
Swinging left and right without careful consideration!”
Serana’s eyebrows furrowed,
Her lips quivered with such rage
Even the dragons above took notice,
Their thu’ums resting on the winds of their wings as she did speak-
“How doth thou seek high ground when thine enemy commands the skies?”
Silence brewed underneath the icy lake upon which they stood.
Breaking that which lay frozen within and outside of Cornelius’ mind.
An arrow snatched from upon his back,
His bow aimed high
At the denizens of destruction above.
Not a word escaped his throat-
Below or above his breath.
A whistle sung its song through the chilly air,
The death chirp from a bird of war!
The dragons, bewildered, by such a lovely song
Hovered still as the lark’s tune did reach a crescendo!
“Har! Har!” Cornelius chuckled as one of the twin pair fell.
“An eye into an eye,
That rapscallion felt Thundercock’s arrow plunged through his pupils!”
Serana stood idly by,
Arms folded across her bosoms,
Nestling the apples of Cornelius’ next attention,
Hiding the fruit of his labors.
Though warrior fingers attempted trespass,
They were batted away!
Beaten out into the cold.
“Touch me once more, you lusty filcher!
I’ll pass onto you the weakness you fear.
I’ll give you the curse-
Banish your precious mortality into arrears!
You’ll feel the chill as I do.
Your eyes will glow with the orange haze you see in mine-
Molag Bal’s gift to me
But a frightful endeavor to hunters such as yourself!”
As the first twin crashed downward, the second fluttered into action!
The skies rained once more!
An inferno unlike that which had been seen before-
This beast was angry,
Burning with the loss of his twin.
Blood for blood.
Eyes for eyes!
Though Cornelius had only one to give,
this dragon would find other ways to rob the hero of his sight.
“Your job’s hardly complete,” Serana audibly mused.
“My job’s half-done,” Cornelius grinned back.
Her attention on the dragon,
She let her guard against the hero falter.
His hands wrapped around her,
Pulled her in close-
His lips menaced hers until she pushed away,
Keeling over on the snow near the shore
To spit out that foul taste.
“Give me a drink, you thieving scoundrel!” Serana barked.
“My swill is my own,” He called from afar,
His feet carrying him forth into battle.
“Mead is unbecoming of a womanly figure.
Drink water instead!”
Thundercock did dance upon the unsteady ice.
Swinging his blade like a man without purpose
That ebony sword did more damage to the winds than anything else.
As the dragon descended to devour the willing prey,
A voice lashed out-
No song was this weapon;
No jingle was this tune.
It was the guttural bellows of the mighty Dovahkiin!
And in a heartbeat, this crazy dance proved true.
The hero lived another day,
No longer seen as easy prey.
As the dragon’s skin burned down to the bones,
Dovahkiin strode back to Serana on the shore.
Her body still hunched,
Her head still bowed-
She had induced vomiting to wash away the taste.
“You’re really a wretched man, you know that?” She hissed between spasms.
“Know not the art of war, woman?
Distraction is the key,
And you, my dear,
Chittering away like a banshee gone mad
Were my ruse!”
Silence descended once more in the Forgotten Vale.
Serana wiped the bile from his lips,
As Cornelius watched with a broad-faced gleam.
A hero’s smile.
A job well done.
Two beasts slain.
Time for some fun.
Two bottles of mead were drawn from his drawers,
Drenched in sweat,
And unbearably warm.
“This victory calls for a celebration, my love!”
“Is that your gift of peace? Your olive branch or dove?”
Cornelius uncorked the bottles,
Though his face ran sour.
“Empty!” he cried!
“I have mead no more!”
[Written by an onlooker in the Forgotten Vale]