ACA - Elvenfall

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*This is a story of Raphael Fontaine's battle against the Thalmor, in the four years that the Tamrelic alliance fought against the elves who attempted to conquer and subjugate them. It fills in a gap of A Children's Anuad RP. There is likely to be several graphic scenes, so please take note of that before reading.*

## Prologue - Day's End

The seven nightblades crept silently to the quarters of the General they were sent to execute, their swords held up before them, covered by the veil of invisibility. It never hurt to take necessary precautions, even though there seemed to be a lack of guards in the area. Sneaking had never been so easy. Still, Telemion, the leader of the band of Altmer, felt uneasy. He rarely had a shiver down the spine, but as the closed in on the room that their target allegedly slept in, a sort of strident aura permeated the air. It was almost as if Death itself watched them from above, waiting to take their lives.

Telemion opened the door quietly. If the intel from their spies were correct, the General they were sent to kill was a target of utmost importance. He had led numerous offensives against the Thalmor, crushing their forces mercilessly, taking no prisoners, and when he was in a city or camp, it became very difficult to mount and offensive without suffering a crushing defeat. Even if they won, said General always came back the next day and crushed the Aldmeri forces who won a phyrric victory.

This raised an important question, though. Their spy had sent them intelligence that the General was staying here tonight, and that he was taking a break, so the guard might be loose. Sure, the guard was loose - it was virtually non existent. Telemion found his mind wondering as to how the General looked. His mind slowly drew together facts, and used them to create a face - The man was always seen in the frontlines, and wore a skull mask. If he was so ferocious, there wasn't any doubt about him being in his prime. Yet, he must have spent years on the battlefield to be this good at planning.

Telemion concluded his target was middle aged. To fight on the frontlines like that, he wouldn't have been a Breton, unless he was a very deviant one. In all possibility, a Nord. From the dimensions of his armor, the man was quite fit, and his athletic skills reinforced that belief. Telemion's mind was beginning to construct the face of the dreaded General, and he was rarely wrong - in fact, he seemed to be able to read the person's looks and details from how they fought. Telemion believed his target was in his early 50s, a Nord man with a moustache, with a hard gaze in his blue eyes and rugged look, stubble adorning his chin. Relatively fit, and dotted with battle scars across his body. The imagination gave him shivers.

The seven elves moved forward to the bed, where a hooded figure slept. He was covered in sheets, and seemed at peace, his body seemingly paralysed by the throes of rest. Telemion raised his sword and brought it down on his enemy. This ended now.

The clang of sword meeting sword echoed in the room, a crimson blade intercepting Telemion's strike, as the "target" turned and fell off the bed into a combat position. A youthful voice rang out "hey, stupid elves, I knew you would be coming for the leadership of our forces tonight. That's why the Guard was dismissed and I'm here. Your spy was so easy to catch, you know? Check the closet, will you?"

The man's hood fell off to reveal his messy black hair, the fringe almost covering his eyes. He looked nothing like what Telemion imagined, having soft, nearly feminine features, an almost lethargic gaze and a distinct lack of scars. He wasn't overly muscular either, and was clad in a suit of medium armor that looked strangely familiar. A pair of sparkling blue eyes gazed into the golden ones that Telemion had...

Then the closet was opened by one of the Nightblades, and he retched at the nasty smell of blood. Their contact, a Bosmer lady, was stuck in the closet, held up by four knives stuck through her chest. The sight sickened Telemion - he didn't know why the upper administration would send people to die like that. Then he realised it was probably because the enemy had outwitted them again.

"Who ... who ... who the fuck are you?" started another Nightblade, as he questioned the young man.

"Hmm ... good question ... I'm the one who will come and kill you all!" roared the man, as his blade started to catch fire. Except that fire wasn't normally so hot. Blue flames that warmed the entire room,, streaked with both green and red hues, sprung up around the sword, turning it into a kaleidoscope of ethereal patterns. Telemion immediately ordered his men to finish the opponent - it was still a seven on one battle. He would win this and find the General another day.

Telemion's hope, though, died in his throat when his opponent swung their blade, the weapon cutting, no, *melting* through the elf that he attacked. The weapon, elf and armor, everything was cut clean through, leaving a molten cut, Not even blood flowed out. The other Nightblades backed off and tried to attack with magic. They weren't really safe, since four jets of the same strange multicoloured fire propelled the man forward, his weapon slamming into the chest of another Nightblade. A triple beam of blue energy from his free hand first evaporated the helmet of a third Nightblade, before it blasted the head to pieces and then evaporated the blood, cauterizing the arteries.

Telemion was feeling sick right now. He wasn't fighting any normal warrior or mage ... he was fighting a monster. To be exact, a Breton Youth, of all people. A Breton Youth who was tearing through his men like a rabid wolf through paper. A fourth Nightblade was consumed by a horrific torrent of the multicoloured flames, leaving nothing but ashes. The remaining three elves knew it was time to flee, and they hurriedly crashed through the window of the inn. Telemion and another Nightblade started to run, as a sickening crunch told them that their third friend was probably lying dead below the man's boot. Looking back only confirmed his hunch, as the Breton gave chase, the flames around his left hand spitting forth with fury.

Telemion and his friend ran in a Zig-Zag pattern, as waves of flame set the ground on fire that would have burned them to death on contact. He was normally the hunter ... yet he was now the prey. Telemion gave himself a chance to laugh at the irony of the situation he was in right now, and he could hear the footsteps behind him getting louder. As he and his ally went through an alley of the highly contested city, now in ruins, Telemion shouted "split! He can't chase both of us!"

The other elf obliged, and Telemion hurried for the gates, as he saw the crazy Breton chase the man under his command. *A worthy sacrifice, so I can live. Thanks, really, heartfelt thanks* thought Telemion to himself, as he made his way to freedom. The mission was compromised, but he was going to live and go on another mission. He could always concoct an elaborate story about how only he made it out, and surely his valor would be commended.

The crunch of feet on gravel stopped Telemion in his path, and he realized he was staring at the Breton Youth who pursued his group through the city. The man had a smile on his face, as he dropped the head of an elf. The one who was to lead him away. A pair of huge, flaming wings made of the multicolored flames adorned his back. It was as if some Daedra was blocking him, not a human.

"You really thought you'd be making it back to camp tonight? Come on, your distraction was really bad. I think if even all seven of you ran in all directions, I'd be able to corner you all and make sure nobody made it out. Looks like I was successful in rooting out these stupid Nightblades who managed to assassinate a couple of body doubles" smirked the Youth.

Telemion turned to run, but a lightning strike stopped him and forced him back, as the way that he came was blocked by a Lightning Flood. He gritted his teeth and shouted "just who the fuck are you? Why are you even here, kid? People your age shouldn't be involved in adult matters! What are you, 19?"

"Yes, except I am the General you are hunting for. I think I have to protect myself, and to be honest, chasing you all down was difficult. I had to take the gamble that you would underestimate a 19 year old pretty boy. And no, this isn't the effects of illusion. My face is really like that. I'm Raphael Fontaine, one of the commanders of the Allied forces. My power? Plasmakinesis - the ability to generate these flame like plasmas and use them on you" smiled Raphael, watching his opponent fidget.

*Shit, at least I know how he looks now. I need to go back to the commander and tell him that we need to take precautions against this crazy boy. He certainly got us* thought Telemion, as he immediately cast an invisibility spell and decided to make a break for it. A harsh slash across his chest knocked him back, and he saw blood and melted armor in the cut. Raphael looked mildly amused.

"You didn't think I chose the gravel for no reason, right? I use my ears to fight, and my eyes don't just see you. I notice the stones moving beneath your feet, and hear the crunch of your footsteps. When you were close enough, I can smell the sweat that's streaming off you from all the running. A true warrior uses all his senses. I told you all this because I know you are dead, and will make sure you are dead" remarked Raphael casually, as he fired a stream of plasma. Telemion barely warded. At least he knew a ward could block it.

Then the stream broke up into five bolts and slammed into Telemion's back, knocking him forward. He cursed at whatever spell was used to defeat his ward. He was blindsided. His opponent was obviously superior and he knew it. With a roar, Telemion used his final blink strike and aimed for Raphael's neck. The moment he flickered back into existence, a sharp pain course through his body and forced him to drop his sword. Telemion looked incredulously at the blade stabbing through his chest.

"I was going to finish this quick, but I guess you finished it for me. Impaling yourself on Crimson Vision saves me some time" said Raphael as he pulled Crimsion Vision from Telemion's chest, the blade glistening with blood, which slid off, revealing that the sword wasn't even stained at all. Raphael sheathed the weapon and turned to walk away.

"Tch, stupid elves. Now that I finished these Nightblades ... surely there will take a different approach the next time. Never pays to be slack, must be alert..."

## Chapter 1 - Lightbreaker

Raphael shook his head, as he kicked one of his men away from him. Their task was to try and take or destroy a crystal orb that was held in his left hand. A wooden sword was held in his right, and he was deflecting and dodging any magic or attack thrown at him. The five soldiers attacking him were all extremely tired already. Yet, this was training. Raphael seemed more than eager to whip them into shape, and he himself didn't show any fatigue.

"Can't you guys do better? I already said, whoever manages to take or destroy the crystal orb, he or she gets a free dinner on me, so try harder. As for the others, well, you all have to pay. This is what you get for challenging me" chuckled Raphael as he slid sideways, a girl who had tried to charge him instead tripping over his leg and crashing into the ground, before Raphael tapped her on the head with the blade and sighed, giving her time to return to the line.

The five soldiers, three men and two women, they looked at each other and nodded. They wanted to just beat the crap out of their "Commander" and get it over and done with. No point competing with each other over gains. They just had to win. With a battle cry, the five charged straight at Raphael and attacked him, forcing him to defend and leap around like crazy. Not using powers and one hand was ... silly, as Raphael fended off strike after strike.

Raphael slowly beat back his opponents. until four of them pinned his blade and the last one, the same girl he had tripped earlier, swatted the orb out of his left hand. Raphael realized he was stuck, and there was no way he could win this. The Soldiers he trained against all had smug grins, and there was a crestfallen look on Raphael's, as he realized how powerless he was. Then the grins turned into groans and the expected sound of crystal fracturing never came.

Instead, Raphael discerned a slim, feminine hand catching the sphere, just before it hit the ground. He sighed in relief before someone smacked the back of his head and he staggered, turning with a fake smile plastered on his face. The Soldiers who had fought so hard against Raphael all grimaced, when they realized that whoever was behind him took the orb, which meant they would get the free dinner.

"Raphael, so are you going to treat me to a free dinner?" smiled the beautiful blonde lady who had caught the crystal ball before it hit the ground, by performing a diving save, her long, luxuriant golden hair in a disarray, but still somehow ... clean and sparkling. Her smile never failed to dazzle Raphael ever, but the statement she made caught him off guard. Then he remembered the terms and conditions, and his expression darkened.

"ERYS! You already eat free with me anyway and you know that, why! Why did you have to do this and deprive these students of a chance!? They must have been looking forward to free food!" said Raphael, as he moved his hands up and down in anger and desperation. The three male soldiers shrugged, while the two females answered in unison "we would have loved to eat with Commander Fontaine..."

Erys glared at the two women, causing them to wince, as if something physical cut them, before she widened her sparking blue eyes, putting on a cute expression for Raphael to see, as a peace sign completed the persuasion technique. Raphael sighed, and asked himself why in Oblivion did he allow his girlfriend to play him like a violin when he was a perfectly rational man, but that was a question that died in the back of his subconscious, as he picked Erys up and kept the crystal ball.

"Well, dinner's on me, guys. I'll pay for all five of you. Here, take this and order whatever you want from the inn" said Raphael, as he pulled out a bag of septims and tossed it over. One of the men caught it, and checked what was inside. He saw at least 200 septims. More than enough even for fine dining in High Rock for five.

"So, Erys, why did you have to dash the hopes of those ... trainees? Your combat skills are already on another level totally, and I planned to let all five of them eat free anyway. You didn't have to do a diving save, you know? That crystal ball belongs to Remillia anyway, and I don't care about Remillia" sighed Raphael as he walked behind the soldiers with Erys.

"A girl knocked it out of your hand. Firstly, I can't have you paying for her, since that raises several flags with a woman. Next, leaving you alone with a female is not good you you. I'm not worried that you will leave me ... but I am worried those girls might throw themselves all over you" replied Erys, quite logically. The earlier response lent credence to her theory and observations, something Raphael would never understand, since he wasn't female.

"Yeah, you win..."

*Few minutes later, at the inn...*

Raphael sipped a glass of wine quietly, looking intensely at Erys with his head on his hand, as he waited for the main course to actually arrive. The five soldiers he trained with sat at another table, chatting and toasting each other, glad with their success earlier against Raphael. Erys' response wasn't to sip her own drink, which was long empty, since she downed it in one gulp, but she waved her hand in front of Raphael, to see what he was staring at.

"You know, Erys, after this, you think we should get married for good? You know, we've been together for slightly more than a year, and my parents are literally begging me to hurry up with you. They want me to leave descendants in case I fall in battle" sighed Raphael, as he sipped more of his wine. Erys' response was to give a slight, coy smile, as if teasing him, but she didn't reply directly.

"I don't see why not. We are practically married, except in name" came the answer.

"Guess so then. Well, I ... holy shit get down Erys!" shouted Raphael as he pushed the table over, pulling Erys behind it as he raised a strong ward infused with plasma. A split second later, windows shattered and crossbow bolts came streaming in. The five "trainees" all responded quickly, hunkering down behind tables, as they waited for the barrage to end.

Raphael had taught them well. One of the girls had taken a crossbow bolt to her shin, and one of the men to his shoulder. Yet both wounded remained calm, as their friends removed the bolts and healed them behind cover. The door was kicked down and three Thalmor operatives made their way in. Another three came down the stairs, and more came in from the back door. It was an 11 on 7 fight, and the Thalmor had the advantage of surprise - they already pinned the occupants.

"Ah crap, Erys, we are a bit stuck here" said Raphael. He didn't have space to draw his sword. This was very, very bad, but Raphael already had a plan. Uncoiling from his hiding place, Raphael leapt out, four jets of plasma behind him sending him flying at the Thalmor on the stairs, both his hands ablaze with plasma, that extended into blades. He crashed into and killed one of the Thalmor, before ducking as three sun fires converged on and incinerated the next elf on the stairs, the handiwork of Erys.

Raphael unleashed his blade and killed the last Thalmor on the stairs before the elf could respond, suffering a cut on his cheek, as the elf's blade narrowly missed his head and neck. The trainees all snapped into action and immediately started firing battle magic, drawing their swords and springing out of cover with considerable ferocity, engaging the remaining elves, who had turned to focus on them. Erys took the opportunity to use more light magic, firing sun fires that twirled around the enemies and struck them from behind.

A crash broke the ceiling, as Raphael drop assassinated a Thalmor engaging his trainees, a quick plasma blast finishing another. His trainees cleared up the remainder, who were already badly burnt form Erys' magical assault, and the elves dropped dead. Raphael was about to turn away when he froze. Erys was trapped by the commander of the men who came with a blade at her throat. The elven commander smirked and said "if you don't want her to die, drop your weapons, alright?"

Raphael shrugged, even as multiple crossbows peeked through the shattered windows. More Thalmor reinforcements. He shouldn't have let his guard down, since the city was not under the control of the Alliance just yet. Raphael seemed to curse his own stupidity, as he gestured for his trainees to stand down and sheathe their weapons. He winked.

The next moment, Crimson Vision sailed through the air, and Erys caught it in a reverse grip, stabbing it through the general before he could do anything and pulling the blade away from slicing her neck, even though it cut her palm badly. At that moment, dual streams of plasma shot from Raphael's hands through the windows, and screams of burning elves echoed around the area, as Erys returned her lover's weapon and drew her own longsword. The pair stepped out of the inn along with the five trainees, Erys and Raphael instinctively backing into each other for comfort.

The next half an hour was spent on slashing, slicing, stabbing and throwing magic. 200 plasma blasts and maybe 100 aedric spear barrages later, the last of the elves had either died or fled. Erys and Raphael sat down against a wall tired and quite bloody, although the blood mostly didn't belong to them. A couple of cuts and scratches were all they had. Raphael quickly remedied that. The trainees were all but exhausted.

Still, there was no time for a breather, as a heavily armored elf leaped off a roof and landed with a thud, drawing a sword and shield. The real commander of the operation. So, a head on attack. So far, it was about 35 - 40 dead elves, and no casualties on Raphael's overly trained side. The fact that the elves did use a lot of magic and that Raphael's five trainees were all Breton probably helped a lot.

Raphael got to his feet, telling Erys to stay calm and rest, as he went to engage the big elf., despite being very tired, his magicka all but spent. He parried a downwards swipe with a horizontal swing and countered with an energy beam - which crashed against a firebolt. The elf was knocked back, but his armor took the brunt of the blow and the elf soon got back, a nasty, flaming diagonal swing to cut Raphael into two the result of the elf's attack. Raphael's solution was to step to the side and slam the sword away from him with Crimson Vision. The elf's response was to translate that into a spinning horizontal slash in the other direction, also flaming.

Raphael's response was to hold his blade vertically and counter with another energy beam, to block a fireball that the elf threw angrily at him. The clash of energy knocked both combatants back, before the elf charged at Raphael, who again tried to sidestep and slashed the elf in the back, the elf's weapon biting into his shoulder with only the tip. Neither the turning slash nor the triple firebolt by the elf caught Raphael, as he used his sword to pole vault over the elf, pulling the weapon out and reversing it, getting in another stab.

The chain that flew at Raphael from the elf impaled him through the left shoulder, and with a whipping action, Raphael was thrown against a building. The angry elf leapt at Raphael, who rolled out of the way, so the elf's sword got stuck in the building. Raphael struck the elf from behind, exploiting the opportunity the silly elf gave him from the reckless attack. The elf then pulled loose and a molten lash caught Raphael in the side, sending him staggering, although he righted his stance nearly instantly, a healing spell erasing his earlier wounds. At least Raphael knew his magicka was returning with a vengeance. It would be time to cast spells soon.

Raphael then rolled right, before the elf came crashing down where he was a few moments ago, the dragon leap failing. The elf was rewarded with another slash for his efforts, and his healing was already beginning to slow. Raphael knew his opponent was a DragonKnight - once he bled his opponent's magicka dry, he had the advantage. Most DragonKnights that fought physically didn't have much magicka, and their skills were expensive to cast. The repeated casts of Dragon Blood due to the horrible wounds Raphael inflicted must have taken a lot out of him, which only left him basic firebolts.

Raphael's guess was right as the elf resorted to a more ranged form of combat, firing firebolts to keep Raphael away, as he waited for his magicka to return. The elf had no way of knowing, though, that Raphael had a nearly full magicka pool, since he didn't cast, except for one healing. Four jets of flame extended from Raphael's back, and the elf's fate was sealed, as he was impaled through the helmet. Raphael pulled Crimson Vision loose as his enemy collapsed.

"Erys ... this has gotta be the most interesting date I ever had with you so far..." noted Raphael drily, as Erys got back up to check his wounds. Nothing much, and his armor was already repairing itself, albeit at a slow pace. More useful enchantments that only his family ever had. Raphael was eternally thankful for not ever needing to send his armor to a smith.

Erys replied "quite true ... and you fought quite well. But why didn't you just blast him once your magicka was a quarter full?"

"Gotta practice, in case I get silenced the next time. Oh yeah, shame you couldn't show your Rapid Auroras. Maybe next time..."

## Chapter 2 - Master of War

The various fights and kills that Raphael made streamed through his mind, as he meditated on the bed. To most, it would look like he was asleep, dreaming even. Yet, Raphael wasn't sleeping, and he certainly wasn't dreaming. Sleep was in fact an unnecessary luxury for Raphael - he had a skill that kept him awake and functioning, with no tiredness, unless he exerted a lot. Meditation was more of a way to pass time than to actually rest. Mainly because every other person needed sleep, and Raphael saw no value in staying fully awake if everyone else wasn't

Raphael's rapturous meditation was suddenly broken when he felt the need for air. Someone was cutting off his air supply, and this was bad. What if the enemy was trying to suffocate him? Raphael immediately "woke up" by breaking his meditative musing, opening his eyes, as he drew in a breath. The smell was familiar, comforting even. Yet, to draw in a breath took so much effort, and Raphael realized just exactly what was happening, when he saw Erys' ample chest before him, since his face was buried in it.

"Damnit Erys, you almost killed me there. I could have suffocated!" shouted Raphael as he pulled his head out of the tight embrace his girlfriend gave him. Her nightclothes were ... kind of wet, mainly from his drooling, when he was meditating. Wait, when did he ever drool? He must have been tired enough to begin microsleeping or something, and that battle against the elf must have took a lot out of him.

The shouts woke Erys partially, who arched her back and stretched, before she turned to face the other side, and went back to sleep with a smile. Raphael happily took the opportunity to examine Erys' body thoroughly - she had a perfect figure which was defeated only by her even more perfect face - before he refocused on the task at hand, which was to lead an attack against the Thalmor fort nearby. When that was done, the city would be under control, and the Thalmor would lose land.

With that in mind, Raphael decided to actually wake Erys for real, and bring the fight to the enemy. So he did wake Erys up, by the simple pinching of her cheeks, which caused her to wrinkle up her face and open her eyes very fast. This was because Raphael could spend the whole day screaming his head off at Erys to get out of bed and she wouldn't oblige. Physical force was the only way. And it worked. Erys squealed and sat up, before noticing how wet her shirt was from Raphael's spittle. She proceeded to change her clothing right in front of him, not that Raphael minded.

What Raphael did mind was when the nightshirt landed on his head, before it was followed by underwear. He brushed it off and groaned in disappointment when he realized Erys changed a bit too fast again, so he didn't get to see her in her full glory. When she started suiting up in armor, it just covered up even more, and furthered the sense of disappointment.

Raphael rather begrudgingly got into his armor, and he caught Crimson Vision, which Erys threw over, still in it's sheathe, placing the blade on his belt. Erys herself was still putting on her armor when Raphael was done, mainly because Raphael's Fontaine armor put itself on him. All he needed to do was to step into the armor, and it folded around him.

The next thing Raphael knew, was that he was issuing orders, with Erys standing behind him and engaging in her own thoughts. Four generals stood before him. A pair of Bretons, a Nord and lastly an Imperial. Raphael said "well, generals, I want you to lead your men, and attack the Thalmor fort in two directions. For that, you two will suffice."

Raphael gestured at the two Bretons. They nodded.

"You two are not to utterly rout the forces. Instead, you will pretend to be routed, and draw them away from the fort. Since your armies are quite strong and large, the enemy will mobilize nearly their entire force, and so when this forces are pulled away, we can take the fort more easily. Once the Thalmor are far enough, the other two armies are to surround them and destroy them completely. I want no prisoners of war, I make it clear. Every Thalmor you see, you kill. No remorse, got it?"

Erys raised her hand and asked "wait, then what am I supposed to do when this guys are killing all the enemies?"

"You are coming with me to infiltrate the fort and clear out the remaining enemies. I'd say there would still be a hundred men left, and I'm only taking my seven trained recruits to do it. It's just nine very well trained Bretons against 100 psychotic magic wielding human hating elves. I mean, when you look at it, what can possibly go wrong?" said Raphael.

"Yeah ... what can go wrong indeed" echoed Erys.

Raphael left the area immediately with Erys. He saddled up and rode for the fort, with the rest of the army, before he broke off from the formation early and led his group with him to the back entrance of the fort, when there were some forests which would cover their approach from the enemy sentries. In fact, Raphael knew many things could go wrong, since he was heavily outnumbered. However, the crux of the plan was to bring as little men as possible - a large group meant more chances to be spotted and destroyed. Plus, he didn't have that many overtrained recruits - the seven were actually all his relatives, even though Raphael didn't mention it.

It wasn't exactly a long or unpleasant ride, given that the forest paths were cool and sheltered. Raphael's relatives were all on high alert, and Erys, who was usually quite talkative and bubbly, stayed silent and focused, which meant she was actually serious about what was going on. They closed in on the fort quickly, without detection, even though all of them were hardly dressed for stealth.

The wait for his plan to unfold was to say ... short. Raphael's clockwork planning and allowances meant his men were actually ahead of schedule, and they commenced their attack plan. As Raphael did expect, the enemy did chase his forces out, and Raphael smiled as he entered the fort with his men, using his powers to fly up onto the walls as he carried Erys. Most of his relatives found their own way up.

On the walls, Raphael and his relatives split up into three teams. Raphael took a cousin along with him and Erys, while the others formed two teams of three. They started powering through the elves very fast, the superior Fontaine bladework turning most of the defenders into gory ribbons, as they made their way to the gates. If Raphael was right, the enemy force would soon fall.

Raphael and his men gathered at the courtyard, when suddenly a rune tripped, resulting in a green explosion of warped energies, and all his relatives fell over, paralysed and unable to respond, including Erys. Raphael responded by drawing his sword, parrying a downward slash from a katana like weapon, which was wielded by a ... beautiful, petite Altmer lady. One who somehow had enough strength to blade lock Raphael Fontaine himself.

Raphael gave a whistle as he slid backwards, watching the katana bury itself into the ground. He threw a plasma bolt, which was promptly destroyed when the Altmer lady pulled her sword up, a red crescent flying at him from the attack, causing Raphael to respond by rolling sideways, three plasma bolts flying from his free hand, as he moved Crimson Vision into a blocking stance. The Altmer lady moved into a guard stance, and a red ward blocked all three bolts. She must have been an advanced sword user of some kind.

Raphael hardly had time to respond, as the red ward suddenly shattered into a cone of red energy. His response was to create his plasma wings, using them to fly backwards, as he fired a spear of plasma from his left hand, which made it through the energy blast and cut his opponent's shoulder. With a battle cry, the Altmer lady moved extremely fast, reappearing before Raphael to perform a two handed horizontal slash to her right

Raphael blocked left with his blade in a vertical position, before he punched at the Altmer, who moved her sword's hilt to intercept his fist, before twisting her blade out of the lock and uppercutting in a vertical motion. Raphael moved to his left and twisted his body, pushing the sword away, causing it to miss, as he moved into a vertical slash to take his opponent's head, causing her to also move to her left, using her blade to smack Raphael's sword downwards, as she used the rear edge of her katana to cut at him.

Raphael collapsed to his knees and leaned back, as the katana passed over his head, firing a beam of crimson energy. His blade shot out and slashed his opponent across the stomach, causing her to get knocked back, away from him, before a quick roll to the side got him into a combat position again, just in time for him to intercept a vertical two handed strike, before the Altmer used the hilt of her blade to bash at Raphael's chin.

Raphael leapt over his opponent, using her blade as a springboard, as he landed behind her, reversing his blade to his side and back, catching his opponent's reversed blade, before he moved sideways and twisted, his sword cutting a flaming arc through the air as he channeled power through it, bringing it down on the head of his opponent. She blocked with her katana, which started to give way from the sheer heat of Raphael's sword.

Yet, the girl pushed her blade, and it broke. She slashed Raphael's left shoulder with the broken blade, a smile forming on her lips, as he twisted out of the way, moving back and away, before she caught the broken off tip and flung it for Raphael's eyes. It managed to cut his face, since Raphael moved fast. And his speed saved him, as he deflected a stab from a shorter, one handed sword, glowing with red energy.

Raphael's eyes contracted in anger, and he clawed at the Altmer girl's face at extreme speed, plasma claws ripping off and burning a cheek. He was responded to by a powerful roar from his opponent, who proceeded to blast him with discharged magicka, sending him flying, as she leapt at him, the two of them clashing in the air, as Raphael opened his wings to brake himself.

Raphael's calm swordsmanship blocked most of the frenzied strikes, but a final, powerful one crashed him into the ground, before the girl raised her sword two handed and tried to bring it down on him. Raphael rolled sideways and used plasma blasts at his feet to propel him away, but realized it was not needed, when a bright, golden spear impaled the Altmer from behind.

Another spear. Then another. Then multiple spears of light started piercing through the Altmer's chest, as many, many aedric spears formed a ring around her, a cage. Even more spears locked her down to the ground, before they all glowed and exploded, extremely violently. Behind stood Erys, her face contorted in rage, multiple aedric spears hovering around her body.

"Well, remind me not to anger my future wife..." said Raphael, as he helped on of his relatives up, the paralysis spell wearing off...