Two Downed
Surtr quickly skirts around the side of Sahloknir, ducking and weaving underneath the dragon as it tried to burn him alive with its vicious fire.
*Skiit!*
He slashes up at its stomach as he slips underneath it, cutting a thin line into its soft underbelly, causing it to drop its weight in an attempt to crush him... He leaps out of the way, landing next to its tail and allowing him to stab his weapon into the back of the dragon's hind knee, crippling that leg for all intent and purposes.
He tries for another slash but is knocked to the ground by the dragon's wing as it flings it backwards, Surtr's weapon clatters to the ground a good distance away, leaving him standing in front of the dragon who was preparing to eat him.
"FEIM!" he manages to shout just as its jaws collapse around him, allowing him to slip through it and avoid that moment of certain death.
*SNAP!*
The beast snaps at him again, which he dodges just as his ethereal status ends... Yet the dragon continues, bloodlust and fury in its eyes as it attempts to bite him in half.
*THIIK!*
*THUD!*
A ballistae bolt whistles through the air and strikes the dragon in the side, causing it to rear back and roar in pain.
Ralof had someone manoeuvred a half-destroyed ballistae into position and shot it... It collapsed instantly afterwards of course, but he'd still done something at least!
The distraction was all Surtr needed as he runs up, kicks off of its wing and lands on its neck while stabbing his unsheathed dagger into its eye.
*ROOOOAAAAAR!*
"ZU'U FEN NI MAH!!" the dragon bellows as it begins spouting a litany of weak and random shouts, its reason seemingly lost in its rage.
Surtr stabs his dagger into the dragon's tear duct to create a handhold, knowing full well that it wasn't long enough to pierce its brain... So instead, he gets close and presses his mouth to its bleeding eye socket and gives a muffled shout... "FUS RO DAH!"
*BOOOM!*
*SPLAATTTER!*
As if someone had crushed two dozen ripe watermelons with a hammer all at once, the dragon's head abruptly explodes as the Unrelenting Force shout was concentrated entirely within its skull. Surtr is thrown back as bits and pieces of brain matter and skull fragments hit his face with great force... He wasn't disgusted however, only proud and satisfied with this victory.
He rolls through the snow with a big grin on his face, laughing despite spraining his ankle while landing on it improperly. He'd just killed the dragon almost completely on his own... Sure, Ralof had helped a bit, but this was far from the army he'd had assisting him back in Whiterun.
"Hahahahaha! How's that... Damn dragon!" he chuckles, not moving as he lays still in the snow.
"Gods! You did it!" Ralof exclaims as he runs over, checking Surtr for injuries.
Surtr hums, "Aye, but it's not over yet... I passed out the last time so, clean this shit from my face if you get the chance." he says, just as the dragon's flesh begins disintegrating, its soul is drawn into Surtr's body.
While he'd experienced this before, he still wasn't able to tolerate the ancient memories that bored their way into his skull. He passes as the soul absorption phenomenon ends, leaving his passed-out body with a baffled Ralof.
The Nord scratches his head, "How'm I going to carry your big ass in all that armour..." he mutters, glancing around to see if any survivors from the Stormcloak forces could help him out...
He lets out a sigh, "Damn, you owe me some drinks for this, fat, half-lizard..." Ralof grumbles as he begins dragging the Dragonborn to safety.
He pulls Surtr next to the burned-down inn and manages to recover a crate of ale. He puts it next to his unconscious friend and sits on it while sipping a drink to wait for reinforcements...
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Three hours later, a scouting group of Stormcloaks approach the destroyed area, quickly spotting the drunk Ralof next to the still unconscious Surtr. "Ey! You lads want to have a couple drinks!? You know, to celebrate and all of that..." the Nord half slurringly offers.
"R-Ralof? You survived? The Dragonborn too?"
Ralof chuckles, "Aye! And that's not all!" he says, gesturing with his drink at the skeletal corpse of the dragon.
...
"So, where is everyone then? Galmar survived, I'm still waiting for help carrying this big oaf." he says, nudging Surtr with his foot.
The lead scout nods, trying to keep his composure and rid himself of his disbelief, "We can scavenge some materials to make a stretcher, let's get the Dragonborn to Windhelm... If he dies I can say with confidence that we're all fucked!"
"What should we do with Ralof? I'd hazard to guess that he's drunk half of that crate..."
"He's just drunk, not an invalid or layabout. He can walk with us... Someone can keep him walking straight if he needs it... That or throw him in a lake."
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Elsewhere, Saeko found herself dragged on yet another mission almost immediately after returning to report the Silver Hand's destruction...
Kodlak, the Harbinger of the Companions and gathered her and the Circle Members to garner their aid to cure curse of Hircine. He was nearing death and didn't wish to spend eternity in Hircine's hunting grounds as a rabid animal...
The others, of course, accepted. While Aela, Skjor, and the newly cursed Shakeesh didn't want to cure themselves, the others could see the utility in it... No one was saying they had to cure themselves immediately, indeed, the choice to choose their fate was an alluring one.
Saeko agreed to accompany them on their mission to slay the Glenmoril Witches who'd originally cursed the Companions. To be honest, if they managed to find a cure to the affliction, she was highly likely to accept the curse herself... The increased abilities were far too great to ignore for a warrior like herself, after all, that is the reason the Companions accepted the curse to begin with.