The battle continued to rage in this part of Skyrim...
Though calling it a battle was generous. It was more like the dragons were slaughtering Whiterun, its soldiers, and the panicked residents running amok in the streets.
So far, the humans of Whiterun had achieved little. A few pitiful crossbow bolts and flimsy arrows had struck the dragons, lodging between their scales by sheer luck. The handful of mages had occasionally managed to leave a small wound or two with frost or lightning magic, but that was about it.
This was a true reflection of the desperate plight humanity had faced during the ancient Dragon War, especially before people learned the various Dragon Shouts!
Without Dragon Shouts—and especially without one like Dragonrend, which was devastatingly effective against dragons and could knock them out of the sky—humans had no good way to deal with such enormous, powerful aerial enemies.
Boom! Boom!
"The Jarl's dead! Run!"
"Waaah!"
"Ugh!"
"Loose! Loose!"
"Go! Get out of here! Forget the fire!"
"Gods above, can anyone help us..."
"Help..."
"..."
The fires raged. Soldiers and civilians alike were thrown into chaos...
In less than half an hour, Whiterun had reached its darkest hour. The Jarl of Whiterun, Balgruuf the Greater, and all of Dragonsreach had been consumed by flames. The city was now completely leaderless, the soldiers had no idea what they were fighting for, and another, even larger black dragon had appeared in the moonlit sky in the distance.
"Don't move!"
(￣~￣)╭
Seeing so many poor souls unable to do a thing against a few flying lizards—and recognizing that familiar "World Destroyer," "World Devourer" Al'ar had returned—Annie immediately understood what was going on with the dragons.
So, realizing that if she didn't help, there might not be many survivors left in Whiterun by the end