So I decided to write a story about my Dovahkiin from Skyrim! :3 Hope you enjoy!
Aeiron be fast
Aeiron be quick
Aeiron, don't die...
The Imperials were driving the Stormcloaks back, pushing them further into the woods. Galmar Stone-Fist cursed under his breath as another soldier fell a few feet away from him. "Dammit!" He shouted, turning to yell at one Stormcloak who was crouching beside him behind a log. "Where's Stormblade?"
"I don't know!" She shouted back. They both turned to look ahead briefly before ducking down to avoid the next onslaught of arrows being rained down upon them. Three more soldiers fell close by, falling as ragdolls would to the ground. They were nearing the other side of the woods. The road began showing through the thicket of the trees and tall grass.
"Aeiron!" The old bear growled out into the air, the grip on his battle axe handle tightening.
"Here!" A female voice cried out through the shouting and screams. The brogue in her voice was unmistakable. Galmar turned around to see a short Nord woman with mid-back length chocolate brown hair head towards him. Her hair was a mess, matted in clumps in places and making it bob lightly as she walked over to the other general. She was wearing the same set of armor as him and bearing a few new scratches on her arms and legs. Her gray-blue shined defiantly and burned anything in site.
He smirked dryly, rising slightly to meet her. "Stormblade, what kept you?"
Aeiron laughed bitterly, grasping his arms with her hand firmly. "Imperials met me on the way here. I guess they didn't want the star of the hour showing up at the event." She shrugged, lips puckering slightly and showing off the scar that trailed from her lips to the underside of her jaw.
Galmar chuckled and let go of her hand, pointing towards the battle field. "The Imperials are driving us back." The old man then looked back at the younger woman. "Think you can make them run with their tails between their legs?"
She grinned, intertwining her fingers and bringing her hands up to crack her knuckles and raising her arms above her head as she stretched. Aeiron tilted her head to each side once before rolling her shoulders. After sighing lightly, she reached in back of her and unsheathing her steel battle axe, one almost identical to the old generals, but the Celtic markings were different; foreign to the land.
"I'll start going," the female general stated, looking up at the older man and giving him a nod before looking back out into the thicket of the woods where the battle still raged on. "When I reach the half way mark, rally the troops and start following my lead." Aeiron didn't wait for his approval for her plan of action before vaulting over the log that was covering them from enemy fire and running into the battle.
Galmar shook his head, muttering "Crazy girl..." under his breath before turning away to look in another direction. He raised his hand in the air and shouted. "Ralof!"
Aeiron was fast, even when lugging around her battle axe. She had to be. She was smaller than most, but deadly nonetheless. The generals made sure to sharpen their weapons prior to the occasion of slaughtering Imperials as she swung at her first victim, bringing the axe around her broad body with one arm and striking down another enemy soldier. Both hands now gripped the handle as she brought it down above her head, slicing through another enemy before letting her left hand go and bringing her blade around her once more with her right arm.
She turned around, just in time to bring up the handle of the large weapon to block a blow of an Imperial sword aimed for her head. Aeiron kicked the enemy soldier in the groin and then brought her axe down as he stumbled back, decapitating him. Another soldier tried to flank her on her left. The female general brought up her leg and kicked him back, her axe following her body as she sliced the soldier in two.
Another one was running towards her, readying his arm to swing down at her. Aeiron reached at her thigh and unsheathed an iron dagger and then threw it, the blade piercing the Imperial's chest and he fell with a cry of pain. From somewhere in the battlefield, she heard shouts and cheers of "It's Stormblade!" "Stormblade!"
"On her!" The enemy general shouted as he pointed at her. His dark eyes and brow made his anger apparent as he urged more men after her. They drew their swords as they charged forth towards her. Aeiron reached the middle of the battleground when she saw them rushing towards her.
"Die, you Faithless Imperials!" Aeiron turned around at the hoarse battle cry, seeing Galmar charging forward with about seven more of their own. The Imperials began diminishing in numbers, the battalion now one-third of the size that they were before the female general showed up.
Aeiron gave a shit-eating grin, turning her attention to the enemy and raising her axe's handle to push away the soldier that was coming directly at her. She kicked him again for good measure, heart singing as she brought her axe up in a golf swing. She turned and brought the axe down again, the blade digging into the back of an enemy soldier fighting another Stormcloak. When the body fell, the Nord grinned at her, a fellow pair of blue eyes gleaming in amusement. "Thanks, Aeiron!"
"Watch yourself, Ralof! I don't feel like carting you back to Riverwood!" She called over her shoulder, cutting through another Imperial's legs.
She heard him chuckle in the background of the noise. "I can say the same for you, General!"
The enemy numbers were dwindling at the sudden push back by the Stormcloaks. They were winning, beating the Empire back. An all too familiar roar then filled the overcast sky above. Aeiron froze, letting her axe drop to her right hand and looking up, seeing a dragon circle above before landing down on the ground in front of her. The ground shook below her and trees around her toppled down, but she didn't move. It's roaring rang through her ears and the pounding of the blood in her head arose. "Dragon!"
"Stormblade!" She heard Galmar shout after her.
Aeiron cursed under her breath and bent her knees, left hand gripping the long handle once more. And from the dragon's mouth, the word "YOL" erupted in flames.