As quickly as it had begun, the assault was over. Victory was ours, but the cost was still high for the city. Of the hundreds who had lived outside of the walls, most were dead or wounded, their houses and businesses damaged and nearly everyone knew of someone affected by the attack. It was hailed as a triumph, the defence of the city and the successful counter attack into the gate was soon to become the stuff of legends. All the handful of defenders who stood at the gate against the daedric hordes found themselves heroes and lauded by the population, and in the following days Azzan would have to start turning away many of the dozens of individuals interested in becoming guild members.
Much to Viconia's and my own annoyance our own parts in the battle were either greatly exaggerated, or unfortunately spoken about honestly. The way that we and the handful of guildsmen from the Mages and Fighter's Guild had slew the daedroths and stood before the gates was soon spread throughout the city. It was a situation that wasn't helped by the way that I had rallied the nervous guardsmen and practically led the defence of the entire city. Before a full day had passed Viconia, Azzan and all of those who survived the assault on the Oblivion Portal had been called to meet the Countess in the cathedral square in the eastern districts.
There was a feeling of celebration like the spring festivals, garlands of flowers, streamers, ribbons and copious amount of alcohol being distributed to all. The Countess proclaimed a day of celebration for the victory over the daedra for every year hence, and after so much death and despair the citizens of the city threw themselves heartily into the festivities. Viconia and I discussed the idea of slinking away in the chaos, but our identities were too well known for any escape attempt. Instead we found ourselves marching with the surviving defenders, passing through the cheering crowds and feeling thoroughly uncomfortable and discomforted at the attention.
At that point I had wished that I had drunk myself into insensibility. Walking through the crowds of hundreds lining the city streets and hanging from every window and lamppost was more terrifying than charging a nine foot crocodilian behemoth. The crowds were enormous, containing nearly every man, woman, child and traveller and shaking the ground with their roars of appreciation and celebration.
Overall the ceremony, called as such for lack of a better term was over quickly and held very little in the way of formality. The Countess simply stood in front of her throne that had been carried out from the depths of the castle, resplendent in her priceless silks and four-metre-long train that covered the ground behind her. Full of regal grace and civility in comparison to the rough and battered members of the city guard and guildsmen she was like a polished gemstone in amongst a pile of broken granite shards. One by one she walked along the thin ranks of individuals who stood or knelt in various forms of acknowledgment of her rank and position, handing out gifts and symbols of favour. Each item was as varied as the individuals they were handed to, some were as simple as amulets bearing the heraldry of Anvil County and the Umbranox lineage, others were priceless weapons and other artefacts from the depths of the castle vaults. When she made her way to where Viconia and I stood she stopped, looking over the two of us with something resembling awe threatening to break through the regal exterior.
"Viconia DeVir, and Kaius Desin." She had said simply, looking over to us with the gaggle of courtiers and servants hovering behind her. "I honour you for your bravery and service to my city. The people, and myself owe you a debt of gratitude that a simple token cannot repay."
A smile creased her aging features as she gestured for a pair of her servants to step forward with satin cushions held firmly in their hands. Upon each were a pair of beautifully forged cuirasses, black as the night and embossed with spiralling patterns of vines tracing their way up from the overlapping plackard and faulds to the shoulders. Immaculately made, with the only sign of damage being the dent in the sternum where their makers had tested their effectiveness they were almost more works of art than protection. For a moment I felt as though they were simple ceremonial pieces by the way the servants carried them, but under closer inspection I openly gaped at the materials used in their creation. While a deep matt black on the outer surface; the interior had been polished to a mirror sheen of the white-silver of mithril. They were lightweight, surprisingly thin but incredibly sturdy since they consisted of a combination of the two strongest metals known to the Empire. Ebony had somehow hammered and forged onto the outer layers, and then carved with an artisan's care into intricate patterns that didn't reduce their effectiveness. Between the mithril and the ebony layers there were few weapons that could hope to penetrate such armour.
With amazement and in front of the crowds the courtiers and servants moved forward, unstrapping our armour and replacing them with the ebony-mithril cuirasses. I felt myself being tugged this way and that as they strapped them firm against the rest of my armour and clothing, and once they stepped back I marvelled at how light the armour felt. It was as though they had been fashioned specifically for us and I resisted the urge to tap at the breastplate with my knuckles to check that it wasn't a dream.
"Great heroes need great armour." The smile on her face was honest as she moved between us, looking over the way the cuirassiers clung to our bodies. "I have also commissioned the armourers of the city, including my own personal smith to fashion you something truly unique and fitting for your deeds. The hides of the great creatures you slew in defence of my city will serve you well in the coming days."
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The roars of the crowd drowned out our responses and both Viconia and I were struck dumb by the sheer intensity of it. The rumbles of Red Mountain had nothing on the cheers of a hundred thousand people, and we had to stand and be buffeted by the volume. Thankfully the ceremony was over quickly, allowing us to disappear into the depths of the guild Chapterhouse and away from the dozens of individuals. Both Viconia and I marvelled over our new armour, the immaculate craftsmanship inherent in every millimetre of beautifully forged metal. They were incalculably old, perfectly maintained and while light enough for us to move to the best of our abilities they provided protection that was unsurpassed.
In the days that followed and for the fortnight that we stayed in the city we were kept busy. The guild received numerous more contracts with the increased fame but the devastation brought its own set of challenges. The dead had to be identified and buried by grieving friends and relatives and damage had to be repaired. Within the first week the gatehouse had been cleared and it wasn't long before the sounds of pounding metal from smithies echoed through the city as a pair of new portcullises were forged. The doors would take a longer time to replace, suitable wood would have to be located but unlike most cities in the Empire, Anvil had a ready source of such wood available. Enormous planks were left stacked around the docks all year round in preparation for being made into keels of new sea going vessels, and while there was a lot to choose from the wood would have to be suitably dried before being hammered together into new gates.
The death toll had been high. Of the cohort who had followed us through the gates, over half had died or had suffered terrible wounds that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The guild was down a fifth of its members, and hundreds of civilians and commoners had died outside the walls. There had been other deaths in the wake of the attack including those few unfortunates who had been run down in the streets in the panic. In the stampede of individuals fleeing from the daedra there were some who had slipped and crushed under dozens of stamping feet.
The funerals lasted over a week. Night and day the mournful howls from loved ones and pealing of church bells could be heard and despite the initial celebrations the cold sobriety of loss returned. Reeling from the dual blows of the cathedral's desecration and the daedric siege, darkness had returned once more to the inhabitants of Anvil. Not allowing themselves to be lost in the depths of sorrow they were steeling themselves for the coming storm and unlike the rest of the Empire they were now taking the threat of Oblivion seriously. Guards began appearing on the streets in greater numbers, the number of recruits looking to join their ranks or the guild suddenly exploding. Azzan received several contracts from the castle and Guard Commander for guildsmen to train the current and future guardsmen of the city. The hard-won lesson of their inexperience in a real battle was leading those in power to rectify the issue. As the blacksmiths of the city soon turned their trade to fashioning arms and armour, the clanging of training or the stamping of marching feet was growing more obvious by the day.
For our part, Viconia and I found ourselves the toast of the city whenever we emerged from the chapterhouse, which we both soon decided to do as little as possible. From time to time though we completed the ever increasing contracts that the guild was receiving, removing a few of the opportunistic bandits in the area or simply assisting in clearing the bodies of the dead. Thieves were caught, muggers taken care of and in the darkness of the evenings I managed to slake my thirst where it arose.
Over a fortnight after our arrival we were once again presenting ourselves in front of the Countess and her entourage. This time however was a much simpler affair within the main hall of the castle and witnessed by only a few individuals. Since the siege, the armourers and leatherworkers of the city had combined their skills together, even calling upon the skills of Carahil and her fellow mages in their task. Together they all had managed to skin the bodies of the Daedroths to create truly matchless armours.
After the fellmongers scraped away individual scales from the chest, back and arms of the creatures, the mages had imbued them with potent enchantments to ensure that the remains would never dissipate back to the infernal realm. Once enchanted, the most experienced smiths and armourers in the city had individually riveted each scale to an underlaying layer of moonstone chainmail; another gift from the castle armoury. Lightweight but still strong enough to hold the daedroth scales, the moonstone's unique properties combined with the design of the interlocking links would allow the physical force of blows to be more evenly distributed. Combined with the daedroth scales and the breastplates the armour provided us with greater protection than eighty kilograms of tournament plate.
Each scale was twice the size of a thumbnail, overlapping and interlocking in a solid suit that covered our entire torsos from collar to mid-thigh and our arms down to the elbows. Individually sized and adjusted to our own frames, the chainmail and scale haubergeons felt surprisingly light and weighed considerably less than our previous steel and leather suits. Overall we had lost almost ten kilograms of total weight from our armour and equipment and fully dressed I felt light enough to leap into the sky and drag down a cloud. Between the Countess's blacksmith Orrin, and the city's master smith Varel Morvayn they had truly outdone themselves; their work more akin to art than armour. Viconia and I ensured that we acquired further pieces of armour from them, replacing and repairing our greaves, boots, vambraces and pauldrons until our armour alone was worth more than some tracts of land.
