Fire And Fangs

Chapter 30

Morgan and Serana were now crouching down and staring at the massive red and yellow dragon that swooped around the walls of Fort Dawnguard and began to blast red hot flames from its mouth against unseen defenders.

"I can't see any arrows or crossbow bolts." Morgan said after a moment.

"Indeed. But there are plenty of magical attacks." Serana added, pointing to the unmistakable Ice Spikes that mostly missed the fast moving dragon.

"I think that it's not fighting the Dawnguard." Morgan surmised.

"It's the Thalmor. It must be. Even though Elenwen has perished, they would still follow orders as though she wasn't even gone." Serana replied.

Morgan just nodded. She was right. If the defenders had been the Dawnguard, they would be firing anything at the dragon, not just magic. Even though the Thalmor seemed to love using magic, they still employed archers...they were a formidable fighting force after all.

"So why are there no archers?"

"They must have just garrisoned mages here. The archers may have been killed already or they weren't here at all. And that means that most of their numbers are outside already."

"They are. Look."

Serana pointed and Morgan saw the figures of around ten Thalmor armed with blades and maces stealthily making their way through the cliff side to flank the circling dragon.

"I have a plan."

"Go on." Serana purred.

Morgan grinned before replying. Serana seemed to enjoy making a battle seem more like a seductive night-time act than a possible place to die. She loved it when she did this as well.

"I can get the dovahs attention. And you..."

"Get to spill some Thalmor blood. Morgan, if we weren't about to charge into a dangerous battle right now, I would ravage you on the spot." Serana whispered as she pressed her lips onto hers in a gentle kiss.

Morgan sighed as she kissed back, but she ended the kiss at the same time as Serana did and she smiled at her.

Later, you can try it.

Serana grinned at her before moving away, unsheathing her dragonbone daggers and moving closer to the unsuspecting Thalmor. Morgan drew her dragonbone longsword and stood up in plain view, still a good hundred yards away from the nearest Thalmor soldier. Then she tilted her head into the sky.

"FACE ME DOVAH! I AM DOVAHKIIN!"

The answering roar was what she wanted, and she smirked as the massive dragon stopped its attack on the Fort, and swooped down to hover in the sky near her, ignoring the small magic attacks that hit its armoured back.

Now that the dragon was more or less stationary, she had a good look at the type of dragon she was facing. Over the time she had been fighting her own kin (she always thought of them like that, and she still felt a little remorse when she absorbed a soul from one of them), she had been able to identify dragons by their appearance, and in turn, categorising them in terms of danger.

The first types were brown-skinned dragons. They were the weakest ones, yet they were still difficult to defeat compared to any other creature that lived in Skyrim. Then there were the Blood dragons...she hated those ones because of their tendency to appear over a cliff face without warning. The Frost Dragons were a little tougher yet they had a weakness to fire. But then came the tougher dragons, and Morgan always made sure she had plenty of cover and potions before tackling the toughest species.