The Good Doctor

Rebec Red-Eye Forest of Falkreath, just east of the imperial camp, 8:00 About the time the Thalmor wizard was dousing the first fire she had set, Rebec was on the other side of the camp lighting up the storage tents. After that she had lingered to watch the show, not aware that Tyrian had sent soldiers into the woods to look for her. In the noise of horker oil whooshing into a blaze and men screaming, she doesn't realize her peril until a gauntleted hand grabs her arm from behind. "Got you now," comes the voice of a lone Thalmor soldier. In the darkness Rebec sees the crackle of a shock spell. More from instinct than cunning plan, her free arm lashes out, then the light of the spell dims and the elven soldier crumples to her feet, Lorgar's letter opener protruding from his eye. "Oh no you don't shoot that lighting shit at me again," Rebec mutters, kicking the corpse away from her with disgust. Before she can reach for his sword, there is a crash of trees and someone yells "over here!" The sailor turns to run, but hears more movement ahead and is forced to bank back towards the camp. She's going to have to make a mad dash across it to the other side and hope that in the confusion no one notices the blue streak. She emerges from the trees near the river, running wildly. The plan may have worked but in the darkness the sailor trips over something and lands with a skid on the muddy riverbank. The noise draws the attention of a nearby imperial soldier. With a yell he starts towards her. This is it, Rebec thinks, then hears a familiar sound next to her. A moment later a mudcrab sails through the air, chittering, right into the face of the imperial guard. He goes down. Rebec scrambles to her feet and with the imperial and the enraged critter busy clawing at each other, she is able to kick his sword arm and stomps on his wrist once, then twice, to force him to drop the sword. She doesn't wait to see if anyone else pursues her, instead dashes toward the cover of the trees, weapon in hand. The forest on the other side of the camp is quieter, and Rebec begins the painstaking process of trying to circle around so she can get clear of imperial searchers. She is starting to feel confident that she's done so when she hears the faint sounds of hushed voices and the clink of armor. The sailor stops, listening. There are still shouts from the camp in the distance, but these soldiers aren't rushing in to help. They're waiting for something. Hazarding a closer look, Rebec sees the glint of stalhrim. Then the light of Secunda and Masser reveals a familiar white-on-blue insignia. Stormcloaks! "Talos guard you, friends," she says quietly to the nearest grouping of them, keeping to cover so they don't shoot arrows first and ask questions later. "By Shor, am I glad to see you."

Captain Baldur Red-Snow Forests of Falkreath approaching the Imperial Camp Baldur was struggling to find the Imperial Camp at first. It was well hidden from the road. He was about to head back to his camp to get assistance when he heard shouting in the distance. Sounds like someone screaming in agony. Wonder if that's from their camp? He began to run in the direction of all the commotion when he finally broke through the forest into a clearing where he could clearly see the legion camp, but couldn't make out much due to the darkness. The Camp was a sizable one, enough to accommodate about a hundred men. There weren't enough tents to house that many though, as tents are cumbersome for travel, and it is impractical for a large force to carry enough for all. This made it easy for Baldur to spot the higher ranking officers from where he was as he creeped forward to get a better look at what was going on. He could make them out from the shine of their armor which showed from the fires some of them were standing by, next to the tents. The officers that he was watching were directing men towards a tent that had been caught on fire. As he watched, a couple of other fires broke out on some more tents, and more men rushed towards the area. They drew their swords and ran around as if they were in search of something, or someone. A saboteur perhaps? Maybe one of our own? One of them just cast a spell and put it out. Who is...Thalmor. Baldur couldn't see all that well, but from what he could tell, a Thalmor Justiciar was in their camp, and he seemed to be directing the men. "Figures. Doesn't surprise me one bit. Just another reason to slaughter them." "Slaughter who?" Baldur heard an elven voice from behind him, and quickly felt a sword point into his neck. His hairs rose at his neck not from fear, but from the lightning enchantment of the sword. Crap. I knew I shouldn't have gotten so close.... "Turn around, spy. I see through your disguise. None of the common soldiers have Nordic carved axes, fool. Stay where you are. The Overseer will wish t-" Baldur quickly bent down and drew his axe on his right at the same time, then he pivoted to his right under the Thalmor's sword, and he slammed his axe in the Thalmor soldier's throat so that he couldn't scream out. Baldur had to work the axe through the spinal cord, as it was stuck in the soldier's neck. When he was finished, he threw the head into some bushes, and dragged the body in the bushes as well. Blood was all over the grass from the Thalmor's neck hole still gushing, but the dark covered most of it after Baldur covered some of it with leaves. When he was done, he turned back, and went to his camp to outline the assault.

Lorgar Grim-Maw Falkreath Prison Sometime before the battle of Camp Rommulas Lorgar lay chained in silence in his dark foreboding cell, no moon light shone on him. Feet deep in a pool of ice cold water, he was almost motionless, the only moment being his shallow breath. While covered in scars, bruises, and arrow marks none of these hurt as bad as the scarring to Lorgar's spirit. He had betrayed his unit...for nothing more then an illusion, a bloody trick. All that anguish and torture he went threw...was caused by an illusion... I was so stupid...I deserve this...my Cohort is going to be decimated and I can do nothing, I in-fact am the reason why there all going to die... Lorgar knew this was his punishment, and he was going to take it. He deserved all that was coming to him. They'll probably execute me...or send me to Solitude for public humiliation... Lorgar would wait here without protest until his final fate was decided, he welcomed death...since he already felt dead. "Hey Legate, I heard the captain is taking the boys on a hunting trip, tonight were going to be butchering sheep...pathetic sheep...milk-drinking sheep..." It was that annoying guard that would go out of his way to torment Lorgar, one of the guards that tried to beat him up the first hour he was in the cell. This time he was holding a bottle of mead, and Lorgar could smell Alcohol all over him. Ignore him- "Do you have any lambs (As in female) with your unit legate?. Us mountain goats might want to have some fun with them..." Lorgar instantly went out of his stupor, and rather violently, said but not screamed, "Why don't you fucking come in here and say that to my face?!" "What was that little sheep?" "I SAID, come and say that to my fucking face...' The drunken guard stumbled for the keys in his pocket, before unlocking the cell, he entered the water covered room. He straightened his back, and stated laughing as he approached the "helpless" prisoner fist raised, "Now where were we-" Before the drunken guard even finished his sentence, a chain wrapped around his neck. Lorgar covered his mouth to muffle the screams, and remained there for several seconds before the guard suffocated and eventually fell back, lifeless. Lorgar quickly grabbed the key ring that was stuffed in his pocket, before unlocking the shackles that bound him to the chains. Lorgar wasted no time to rest or feel the pleasure of being free again, and instead took the guards sword and dagger. He stealthily crouched and began to creep out of the cell. After getting out of the cell, he went down a short hall way, and noticed a guard blocking the entrance into the barracks. Lorgar quickly cut the soldier's throat before busting the door open. 3 Guards sat helmet-less playing a game of cards and drinking what seemed like mead, before they could even turn there heads and react to the door being busted open, Lorgar was already upon them, and caught one before he had a chance to scream in the gut with his sword . He quickly stabbed the second one with his dagger in the chest while he was drawing his axe. The third one, who manged to take out his two handed warhammer, charged forward in a downward swing at Lorgar, who merely side stepped the attack, and impaled the guard threw his stomach with his sword. Lorgar had no time to waste, he threw open the door out to the town and ran towards the gate, killing any guard who were in his way. By the time he got to the gate, he had slain over a dozen. The gate was guarded by six guards, two on the top and four guarding the actually gateway. Lorgar approached the gate, they noticed he wore weathered imperial armor and moved to draw there swords. Lorgar took all four of them on, while the other two stayed above and fired arrows. Before the two arrows hit there mark, Lorgar grabbed one of the other soldiers and used him as a shield, the two arrows landed in his chest area, killing him. Lorgar moved on to the next guard, blocking his attack with his sword, which left his stomach open to Lorgar's dagger. The other guard Lorgar killed with a flurry of blows to the chest and the rib area with his sword and dagger. The final guard threw down his sword and started to kneel, begging for mercy. Lorgar could smell urine coming from him, he approached the guard, and raised him by the collar to the wall, "Tell your captain, that I know him know, and I will find him...tell him no matter were he goes, I will kill him..."

Rebec Red-Eye Camp Rommulas, nighttime Rebec had stood outside the captain's tent as long as she dared, long enough to see who went out for sentry duty and in what direction. Then she had complained loudly of weariness and headache, and went in to sleep. She did not sleep. During her bath she had palmed a small, sharp rock which she slipped into her uniform tunic. As darkness falls over the camp, she manages to loose her hand fessels, bloodying her wrists in the process. The feet bindings are then short work. The two guards at the front entrance are talking to each other in low, worried tones; a useful distraction. Rebec inspects the tent for anything useful the captain might have left behind. She cannot risk opening drawers, but wedged in between maps finds a small letter opener. A stupid grin spreads on her face. Slicing the tent wall would cause too much noise, so instead she feels under the back wall til she finds the tethers, and cuts enough of them so that she can slide herself under. The night air hits her with exhilarating coolness. The captain's tent faces a small, scrubby cliff, and Rebec forces herself to go slowly so as not to spill any rock. At the top of the cliff, her instinct is to run, but instead the sailor pauses. They were going to turn me over to the Thalmor. I'd have never felt the sea wind again. And they'll do it to others, too, the simple farmers and hunters of this hold. If the empire wins, all of Skyrim will be under that threat. Some minutes later, a small flame catches the edge of a tent full of sleeping imperial soldiers. Before anyone notices it, it catches some extra bedding stacked on the floor and becomes a conflagration. In the confusion soldiers fall over each other, blocking the entrance. Screams echo out into Falkreath's wood. While the camp is preoccupied putting out this fire, another starts in one of the storage tents containing a barrel of horker oil. It rages, catching the tent beside it on fire as well. Even with the river nearby, there aren't enough buckets to contain the blaze. At the forest edge, concealed among the trees, Rebec slips her lighter into the pocket of her Stormcloak uniform, watches, and smiles. Grand Overseer Tyrian Travinster The past few hours had been spent writing reports and general orders throughout the Province. Then a blaze of hellfire engulfed the nearby tent "That bitch is gonna get what's coming for her now." Ice spewed from Tyrian's staff, putting a halt to the blaze, and of course, the Legate was missing. "Gentleman, I am assuming control of your unit until your Legate is found, five of you get to the woods, and find the arsonist bitch." Five of them sprinted off into the forest reluctantly. He headed back into his tent behind his guards, they were sitting ducks.

Captain Baldur Red-Snow, Boldir Iron-Brow, Witch King, Reval Tordyn Near the fork of the road on the old path in Falkreath by Lake Ilnalta 6:30 pm "Okay men, we're near the fork. The Imperials will be nearby, so we're going to sit tight and remain within the trees. Luckily it's already getting dark, so stay silent, and don't make any fires. We'll attack in a few hours, or as soon as it gets dark enough. Be ready." Baldur could see Witchie and the men approaching in the distance from the east. What the hell is Witchie doing leading them? No wait, I see Reval. It was probably best that he lead them anyway since he knows the location. I'll let it go this time. Baldur walked out of the woods and signaled them to come in where they were. As they approached, he walked back inside the woods, and approached Boldir. While he spoke, he had a soldier help him remove his armor and began to put on Imperial armor he got from one of the dead soldiers at the fort, and that he brought with him in his pack on his horse. "Okay, the rest of the men are here. Inform them to stay hidden and stay silent. Tell Reval and Witchie when we attack. I'll be back. I'm going to scout ahead. Hold the fort down while I'm gone, okay?" "Got it." As Baldur headed off, Boldir waited for Reval and Witchie to reach the rest of the group. He signaled for them to come over to him. "Alright, here's the plan. Baldur is currently scouting the camp under disguise. He shouldn't be gone too long. We are to attack the camp in a couple of hours unless these clouds bring the dark early. If that's the case, we'll attack as soon as it gets dark." After the briefing, Boldir motioned for Reval to walk with him. "We haven't gotten the chance to speak yet. It's good to finally meet the mighty Reval. Seeing you put my brothers to shame and take on that cat was impressive to say the least." He grinned. "This ain't a normal offer, and in the case of any other elf, I'd be called a fool. But I plan on recommending you to join the Necro Nords when this battle is over. You've proven to be every bit a Nord at heart as anyone else here." Reval was pleased to hear this. "Glad to hear that. I've heard your name is Boldir from the soldiers at the Fort. Apparently you're the one taking control of Falkreath right now. You have my condolences," chuckled Reval, "since we're soldiers, not politicians. Got enough of politics back in Morrowind." Reval then secretly pointed to Witchie and said, "You see that guy right there? His name is Witchie and currently I think he's scum. He killed a civilian without so much as even questioning their motives. I think he's a filthy N'wah but still, he's a Stormcloak just like the rest of us so I'll defend him just as much as the others even though I'd rather he eat a sword." Reval then decided to sit by a log and told Boldir, "So this is it huh? The battle to get rid of these Imperials. Thought Solitude was it, though I suppose I should be glad this battle isn't as extravagant as there. You know, I should tell you something I don't tell everyone: my son has got to be one of the best soldiers I've ever seen. I may appear rough with him, but back in Fort Amol he fought against Imperials and Thalmor like a whirlwind. He always wanted to be like me and joined the Stormcloaks just to follow in my footsteps. The wife doesn't approve, but I'm sure my son will grow up to be a great man. If you meet a Dunmer named Vordyn, tell him his father said hello." Reval enjoyed his reminiscence then asked, "So, got anyone waiting for you after this?" Boldir was a bit surprised that Reval was so open to him about his life. He was more surprised still to have his own asked about for a second time that day. It's not something he liked to talk about, but Reval was open about his life, so Boldir returned the favor. "There is no "after this" for me. After we take the camp, I'll wait for my next orders. My family is the Stormcloaks, and my home is wherever they send me." Reval chuckled for a bit. "Guess I'm not surprised you said that. War has a way of changing men, turning meek civilians into stone-cold killers. Heck, my son is already waiting for his next battle. Will his children follow their father and their children as well? Guess we entered this life the moment we joined the Stormcloaks. You can leave the battlefield but the battlefield never leaves you. At first I thought it was hogwash, but now I'm not so sure." "I've been a soldier a long time," Boldir said. "I've seen many men come and go. I've not met one who left it all unchanged. It ain't always a bad thing. I sure as hell have a better life now than I did before I became a soldier. I have a home and I have a family. And all I'm asked to do is protect these things. It's ideal for someone like me." "I know what you mean. Now that I'm fighting in this war, I want to defend not just my people, but everyone who lives in Skyrim. I can only hope that I get to live up to their expectations. My family and everyone in Skyrim is counting on us to ensure that the Empire is driven from this land, and we can all live free." "You are a good man Reval. I'm glad t-" "Sir," a soldier approached. "our sentry has spotted several Imperials searching the woods not far north of the camp! They haven't spotted us yet, but they're searching for something." Boldir was already up and heading toward the interrupting soldier. He turned back to Reval. "I'll handle this one. You make sure the men are prepared for the assault. It should be in about two hours at most." "And should anything happen to me in this battle, tell my son that I am proud of him and that he should carry the mantle of the Stormcloak name with honor." Boldir looked him in the eyes and nodded. This Elf is as much a Stormcloak as any Nord I've served with. Boldir took off, bringing two Necro Nords with him.

Boldir and Baldur Falkreath old path on the way to the Fork in the road. 3pm Baldur was feeling great now that he had put the Legate in the back of his mind. The men's morale was up despite marching in the rain, which had picked up considerably since they came from Falkreath around 6 in the morning, and best of all, He just thought of a new battle song, that of which he had just taught the men who were singing it proudly with booming voices and the gusto of a man that just bedded a tavern wench. So much for my luck ending the rains before we left. Oh well, nothing's killing my mood at this point. "We're off to kill some milk drinking red wearing lasses! We've brought our Necro Nords and they're here to kick your asses. We'll send 'em back to Cyrodiil...throw 'em right across our border! We're the True sons of Skyrim...They're the offspring of horkers! My name is Baldur Red-Snow, my name you'd best record it, 'Cause I'm the one who'll make Mede pay for the White Gold Concordat! Take your Thalmor elves back with ya, No more Imperial laws and taxes, Imperial bluster wont save you when I swing both my axes! We are Nords and Dunmer and we've come to save the day, We're the last to quit our mead and the first into the fray! Hear what I say amongst these men who I am proud to call my brothers, Once we're done with you, we'll move on to bed your mothers! "We're off to kill some milk drinking red wearing lasses! We've brought our Necro Nords and they're here to kick your asses. We'll send 'em back to Cyrodiil...throw 'em right across our border! We're the True sons of Skyrim...They're the offspring of horkers! Baldur let the men continue on without him. Some of the men carried it on and added to the song while he let his mind wander on what he'd do after this was done before the next confrontation began. Hmm, maybe keep training. Maybe I'll try my luck with the companions and see if they can show me a thing or two. That or take a visit to a tavern and get myself a nice tavern wench. Or I could find a nice girl, and settle down for once. Who knows. Maybe I'll find a good shield wife here in the Stormcloaks. I do like good strong fighting women. I'll find one. One of these days. Hopefully I'll live long enough to see it. But first, I need to put an end to these Imperials. It won't stop their invasion six months from now, but it will send them a message. Boldir rode beside him. He didn't sing like most of the men, but he smiled all the same. This is what I live for, he thought as he looked at the troops. It wasn't the looming battle that he reveled in. It was the companionship that could only be felt by brothers and sisters in arms. He turned to Baldur, who seemed deep in thought. "How far is the camp?" Baldur was in the middle of his thoughts. Eh, forget the settling down bit, tavern wenches are just too much fun! I love that one in Falkreath. Boy, I bet she'd- "Hey Baldur, how far's the camp?" "Huh? Oh, *eherm*, uh not too far. We should be at the fork in about another three hours. We should see Witchie and Reval there too by then. Then I'll scout ahead and look for their camp, and wait for it to get dark. Then we'll attack. "Good. A lot on your mind?" "Just thinking over what I'm going to do after this is finished. This whole assignment took place over a period of a few days, but it feels like it was so much longer than that, you know? What do you plan to do before six months from now when the Empire strikes back?" "Honestly? I'll go where I'm told to go. Don't care for vacations. I get along better with soldiers than civilians." "Yea, not all of our civilians like us Stormcloaks anyway. We have too many of those who were still loyal to the Empire. That could potentially cause a lot of problems, like Imperial loyalist witch hunting. I hope to be able to get some down time before the next war, but I have a feeling Ulfric will keep me busy. I'm recommending to him that you be promoted to Captain, so you'll be able to avoid the civilians if that is what you want. You may want to try improving your relationship with them in the future, however. You got anyone back home waiting for you?" "I haven't even had a home in a long time. Barracks suit me fine. There's an Uncle back in Shor's Stone, but I don't know if he's still alive." "I've known you all this time, and you never shared this with me. I want you to know I consider you my brother. If we live to see retirement age, you and I should spend our days as old comrades. This ain't no proposal by the way. In case you got your hopes up, ha! When you and I start families, we should have them live together. Who knows, maybe we could start our own town. What do you think?" Boldir chuckled. The idea of settling down had never really occurred to him. Although it would definitely be better to be around friends. "Ha! That doesn't sound half bad friend." He didn't expect to ever actually have a family. That sort of relationship rarely went well for him. But he kept quiet about that. "Good, then that's what we'll do if we live that long. If not, our retirement home will be in Sovngarde. Think Shor keeps any good tavern wenches there?" "Heh, you'd know better than I, friend. Not everyone gets an early peek." Baldur almost forgot that he told Boldir about his vision when he was describing the torture on Lorgar. He didn't want to think about it more so he quickly changed the subject. "Yes, well I never got to go into the hall. It wasn't my time yet. Hey, the rain's starting to die out. It must not be raining up ahead, so have the men double time it." "You're right." Boldir turned to the men and raised his voice. "Alright everyone let's pick up the pace!"

Witch-king, Reval Near Dawn Witchie was still a bit disturbed by the interrogation. He was prepared for things to get bloody but when the captain told the image of the woman to undress he was caught a bit off guard, too much for his taste. In that split second he decided to change the woman's body somewhat so it did not match the one from his memories. It would help him stay detached from the situation and thus stay more focused. So when the image undressed, the head of it was right but the body was wrong. But that was something only he could see. Next time I make one from scratch. But now he had his orders to go back to the fort and gather the men for the attack on the imperials' camp. The recall spell came in handy again. When he got back he walked into the barracks and used his magic to create a great dragon roar that got everyone on their feet within three seconds. "We now know the location of the imperials' camp. Get dressed and eat something fast. We're moving out." The soldiers got dressed, ate some bread and washed it down with mead before gathering in the courtyard. Reval was busy sleeping when he heard the roar of the spell. "Took them long enough to find the Imperials. Judging by the voice, it must be Witchie. Guess its time to find out what is going on." Reval ignored the countless soldiers reaching for their weapons, putting their armor on, or even just recovering from falling out of bed. As the prepared soldiers lined up for the information, Reval couldn't help but hear some chatter from the soldiers. "Is it true? Did we really find their camp?" "At last! Now we show the Imperials the true strength of the Children of Skyrim!" "Seems too obvious. How can we be sure it isn't a trap?" Reval ignored the comments. Even though part of him took pleasure from the fact that the Imperial camp was found, part of him also felt that it could be a trap. However, these feelings were less than the inquisitive nature of what Reval wanted to know. Reval walked to Witchie and, with a slight anger in his voice, said, "I heard from some of the soldiers here that you killed a civilian who you thought was a Thalmor. Is this true?" Witchie did not even look at Reval, he just watched the courtyard while the men gathered. "He was working for the Thalmor. Anyone working for them is game." Reval was shocked to hear this. "So did you at least know if he was a Thalmor agent? Was he wearing any of their armor or proclaiming any of their propaganda? Surely you have to realize that not everyone who helps the Thalmor does so willingly." "Willingly or not. You help my enemy, you will die as my enemy." Especially if you're an elf. Reval was shocked to hear this. "So you admit that you killed a potentially innocent civilian just because he worked for the Thalmor. I just have to say what is wrong with you? If you just kill off random people without so much as a proof that they willingly support the Thalmor, you're no better than the Imperials! Haven't you heard of how the Imperials killed people simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time during the War? If we just murder people without a second thought, how are we any better than them?" Reval continued with a scowl and said, "The way you're acting, you could be a threat to all of us! Let me tell you a story: One day, near Fort Amol, the soldiers gathered there captured a Bosmer who supposedly worked for the Thalmor as an assassin. The judgment of what to do with him fell to me. Unlike you, I actually asked if he truly supported the Thalmor. He said that he didn't, that he was forced into it because his family members were high ranking members of the Dominion. He said he was willing to make amends for what he was forced to do if we promised to fight the Thalmor with all our might. I agreed and he gave me the location of a Thalmor cache of weapons. The information turned out to be true, and we gained a large amount of supplies. The Bosmer continued to remain in his cell, never so much as asking for more food or anything. We all felt suspicion, but that suspicion fell when a Thalmor assassin managed to infiltrate the base. The Thalmor assassin intended to kill me and the captain because we posed the most threat. The Thalmor let the Bosmer free and ordered him to kill me and the captain. I woke up and saw this happening. What happened there remains in my memory for a long time. The Bosmer, who could have simply avoided punishment from the Thalmor and done his job, proceeded to grab some nearby chains and attacked the Thalmor assassin. He was quickly killed by a lightning bolt, but not before giving me time to kill the Thalmor assassin. That supposed Thalmor supporting Bosmer wound up saving the lives of who knows how many people at the Fort." Reval crossed his arms and said, "I was willing to show mercy. If you were in that position, I wouldn't instinctively murder you without a thought. I may be a Dunmer, but I consider these people just as much my people as I am one of theirs." Reval continued and asked, "So, what exactly happened to you to make you so angry?" "I do this for the things that haunt me every night. If I'm better or worse haven't bothered me in a long time. I have my reasons, my own agenda that I set and followed before my people even started to migrate to Atmora." The men had now gathered in the courtyard and were awaiting orders. A couple of them were yawning. "Follow me! We have an imperial camp to raze!" Witchie yelled at the men that tried to cheer in response but were still too drowsy to get any real emotion out. Hopefully they would shape up during the march. Witchie walked out the fort in the direction of the camp. It would be a long march ahead and he hoped that Reval would keep quiet for the duration of that time. Talking about his past always made him feel heavy.

Boldir Falkreath, outside the prison A little after 4 in the morning. "BALDUR...I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD, YOU FUCKING BASTARD I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU HEAR ME?!.... Boldir could hear the screams from outside the prison. They were coming from the nearby well that was above Lorgar's cell. Good thing it's so early. The screams would unnerve the civilians. As he stood leaning against the wall of the building, Boldir thought for a moment about what Baldur could possibly be doing down there. Anything that can break that man would have to be much worse than death. He felt chilled at the thought. But slightly relieved that it wasn't him that had to deal with the issue. And a little worried for his friend. He'd never known Baldur to be a torturer. It has to be done. After a couple more minutes, Baldur walked out of the prison followed by Witchie. Boldir eyed the Witch for a moment before turning to Baldur, who Boldir had never seen look so pale. "You got what was needed? "Baldur had lost all the color in his face. The interrogation really took it out of him, and he thought his friend could tell. "Yes, yes I did." Boldir looked closely at Baldur for a moment. Whatever happened down there wasn't good for him. Should I ask about it? No. He probably wants to put it behind him. He looked Baldur in the eyes and nodded. He wanted his friend to know that he was there if needed. Time to get his mind off of the Legate. "So what's the plan?" Baldur could see that his friend was about to ask him something but stopped himself before asking what his plans were. "Boldir, I can tell you want to know what happened. You know me. I hold no secrets." Boldir wasn't suprised that his friend was saying this. He'd known Baldur long enough to know that he wasn't one for keeping secrets. "Baldur, I heard the screams. I know that you did something terrible. You did what you had to do." "I did do terrible things, but not quite in the way you're thinking. The man was tough as nails. I could see that. He was willing to die in agony if need be to protect his men. Nothing short of Molag Bal, the King of rape himself was going to make him break. So I knew immediately that physical torture was off the table. I had to get creative." Baldur then told Boldir everything. Every last detail. He told him about the conversation they had before the coercion, he told him about Witchie's illusions, and what he put Lorgar through. Every last detail from the moon shining above and the clouds that covered and uncovered it, to the fake murder of Lorgar's men, and even the threat of raping a civilian. The way that Baldur described it, anyone else who heard would think he killed actual beings. Baldur unleashed his burden upon his friend as a child would tell a nightmare to his parents. Look at me, bearing my soul like some milk drinking breton. "So now you know. I didn't lay a single finger on the man, but I hurt him more than any blade ever could have. I didn't lay a single finger on him. So does that make what I did any better?" Boldir didn't say a word until the Captain was finished. He felt nothing but sympathy for his friend, who may as well have been tortured himself. "Baldur... That man, he is your enemy! He and his men have killed scores of your own. Scores of OUR brothers. What you did was necessary. Thanks to you, we can finally put a stop to it." Baldur knew what he said was right. Thanks to his actions, Baldur now knew where the camp was, and he could finally put an end to the Imperials before their reinforcements arrived. And then, he would have six months of relaxation before the coming storm. "You're right, your right. It's time to put my stones back in my sack and man up. Now, lets go over the plan before you whip out an amulet of Mara, you argonian maid!" Boldir smiled. That's the Baldur I know. "I can have the garrisoned troops here in town ready for battle at a moment's notice. What would you have me do?" Baldur went back inside the prison and pulled a map off of the wall nearby. Then he walked back outside and showed Boldir where they were headed. "See here by the Lake? That's where we're headed. They're located by this fork in the Old Way. It's an old hunting trail. All manner of wild animals are in that area. They're more than likely in a flat open area by there, probably close to Evergreen Grove North East of Falkreath Watchtower. I'm not pulling off anything fancy. We'll take our men along the road, I'll have Witchie use his teleoprting spell to go to Neugrad, don't ask, and we'll meet here at this fork, and walk our way to Evergreen Grove, and overwhelm their men. Simple. We'll arrive sometime in the afternoon at the fork, and we'll wait til it's dark to move in. Mobilize the men. Have them ready as soon as possible, and have Witchie go back to Neugrad to have the men there moving as well. It's a good thing the Imperials are so close to a road since it's really starting to pour down now. The road should help our men to keep traveling at a steady pace. Any questions?" "No, friend. I'll have the men ready to set out within the hour. When it's time to leave, they'll muster in front of the inn. I'll leave Thorygg in charge of the remaining guards. He'll keep the place in line." "Good, then lets finish this."

Captain Baldur Red-Snow and the Witch King Approaching Falkreath 4 in the Morning Baldur and Witchie had been traveling all night without stopping to reach Falkreath hold on horseback. Baldur wasn't worried about his lack of sleep, as he couldn't possibly sleep anyway with the recent developments that had taken place. Baldur was glad to be in a part of Skyrim without snow for a change, especially his fort since it wasn't snowy or muddy. It was snowy AND muddy. Falkreath's town was simply muddy. As Baldur and Witchie arrived by Falkreath's entrance, it just started to rain. Ha, my luck is starting to turn after all. Glad the gods held the rain til after I arrived instead of during the all night trek. Hopefully it doesn't rain for too long, as that will slow down our men. But at least the rain will mask the sound of our approach. "Witchie, I'm going to find Boldir. You go and wait in the prison. Don't speak to the prisoner until we get there, okay?" Witchie went to the barracks and down the stairs. The prison consisted of a big cell right in front of him, taking up a third of the room and to the left was another cell which looked to be lower than the rest of the room. In the corner to his right was a chair with a small round table next to. The corner was dark as he sat down in the chair. He was tired but didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to revisit his nightmares. At least this gives me a break from my horrors. And he started to recite all the spells and magical laws he knew, to keep him busy while waiting and to keep him from falling asleep. Baldur went his separate ways and called out for one of the early bird posted soldiers to come down and show him where Boldir was holding up at. He was surprised that there were so many men still up guarding the perimeter. He could tell Boldir had kicked their asses into high gear, and wasted no time strengthening to town. The soldier led Baldur to the Longhouse his friend was in, and he dismissed the man back to his post. Baldur knocked on the door to wake his friend. "Boldir! Rise and shine. Time to get started." Boldir turned over. He wasn't annoyed anymore. He'd already come to terms with the fact that he wasn't meant to sleep well that night. He rose from bed and looked around. Not much to do. Already got my armor on. Boldir strapped his shield to his back and his war axe to his belt. He then grabbed his large battle axe from the wall it had been leaning on and sheathed it beside the shield. Lastly he grabbed his full-face quicksilver-iron helmet from beside the bed. He carried it as he walked out the door. "You know rise and shine usually means the sun's out right?" He said sarcastically. "How are things?" Baldur looked at his friend with wide open eyes of amusement. He couldn't believe he just heard that question. "How are things? HOW ARE THINGS? Dibella's ass, I send you out to lead a city, and in under a day you already caught the damn Legate that almost killed me? You trying to take my job or something? Things couldn't be better! How in Oblivion do you think things are?" Boldir, usually one to hide his pride, let it show for once and smiled widely. "Believe it or not, the man actually came to me. He thought to scout the town under the guise of wanting to negotiate. Too bad for him, his skills as a liar weren't quite on par with his skills as a fighter." Boldir's smile faded. "There is something wrong with this man. He charged into a volley of arrows. He's been pierced by over a dozen. And yet he lives. But I wasn't going to take chances. I had a healer fix him up last night just in case. I ordered the men to stay off of him until you arrive. Figured they'd kill him otherwise. You are going to interrogate him aren't you?." Baldur pondered on what Boldir had just said. The man apparently charged into a volley of over a dozen arrows and lived! This guy can't be human, Baldur thought. "Great, another freak. Where does the Empire get these guys? You know that Khajiit was a werewolf? Anyway, yea. I'll interrogate him. Maybe even torture, but the usual job won't get the info from him. It's hard enough interrogating a Legate, at least I assume it is, let alone someone who took punishment like that. I was almost killed by one arrow. So, it looks like I'll need to get creative. Just as I thought. First, give me a rundown on everything you know about him. Then, I'll have a talk with him." Boldir said, "I know admittedly little. The man's name is Lorgar. He has influence, enough to take a prisoner out of the hands of the Thalmor. He doesn't seem like a typical leader though. He came alone, no guards, nothing. He also seems to be foreign. I heard him speaking in some strange language that I've never heard. He's definitely not mentally stable. When he went troll-shit and attacked the men, he begged me to order the archers to fire on him. It's like he wanted us to stop whatever it was that was happening. It's like he's two people." “Okay, none of that will really help me. I do know however that physical coercion will not work on him either. Okay, me and Witchie will be downstairs. You stay up here." Baldur stepped downstairs past the door, and past the rather large cell facing him when he got down. Witchie was sitting by a table in a dark corner. Baldur had not noticed him while he was there, even when he walked right past him. Baldur wondered where he was, and assumed he must have been up top in the barracks above where they were when they walked inside. When he reached the end of the prison room, he saw a barred prison cell with no actual door to it. The bars were released by pulling on a chain far enough from the bars so that the prisoner couldn’t get to it. The prisoner himself was a huge nord covered in blood and bruises on top of pierce wounds from the arrows. The man’s face was mangled looking, as if something tore a part of the skin on his face off. He looked like a mean son of a bitch, but had the glint of one who was kind hearted. Baldur could tell that even past all of the punishment he took, which was on full display from the moon’s pale light shining above from the ceiling through a barred window. The prisoner was chained to the wall of the cell, so Baldur downed the bars that locked away his cell. As he stepped in, his feet splashed heavily through the water that had covered the floor of the cell. “Malacath’s hairy ass, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes eh? I am Baldur Red-Snow. Not pleased to meet you. I have some questions to ask of you.” Lorgar opened his eyes at the sound of a man wanting to ask questions, and saw a Stormcloak officer. He was a Nord clad in Nordic carved armor...But he looked very familiar...the last time he saw him was from a long distance and he bore different armor. Lorgar smirked revealing his wolf like teeth, Lorgar couldn't be mistaken, he knew who this Nord was. "Ah...I believe we’re already acquainted Red-Snow ...I see you survived my arrow's bite...a very rare feat" Lorgar said in a perfectly civil voice, he continued in a sarcastic tone, "You have questions, then by all means enlighten this old war dog?" Baldur said, "Ah, defiant to the end eh? I like that. Didn't expect that from a Legion pup, let alone one that prefers to fight from afar. Tell me, why exactly did you stroll into my town by yourself without your men? If you were looking for recon, you should have sent a soldier adept in that sort of work, not risk getting yourself caught when you're such a valuable member of the Legion." Lorgar spoke bluntly and quickly, "Because if I sent a soldier in he would be risking his life on an entirely private operation...I put my men before me" he continued, "I was actually curious about the commanding officer here, I wanted to measure his quality as a soldier and as a man." Baldur was confused by this answer. He stepped forward, closer to the prisoner just stopping before the dripping water coming from the rain outside falling through the barred window on the ceiling with the moon light shining through. The clouds routinely covered and uncovered the moon, turning the cell from dark to illuminated. "Sounds like you were there for a social call, and it turned into a blood bath. You Legion types are a strange bunch, more specifically this wolf pack. Your house cat did the same thing, and wound up getting captured. Seems like you guys are more into lone wolfing it than fighting like a true pack. Your men are there to be used. So why don't you use them?" Lorgar, looked at the nord straight in the face, with contempt he answered, "Soldiers are not 'toys' boy, you’re not supposed to use them. You lead them, and as a leader you value their lives above your own, you don't order them to do things you wouldn't do yourself..." He narrowed his one remaining eye, filled with disgust, "Or do you think differently captain?" Baldur took offense to the response when he said "Soldiers are not toys". Baldur knew this well, but he did not agree with the Legate's philosophy completely. "No, you're right. Partly. Soldiers aren't toys or playthings. I too am a soldier, and I would and have taken orders like the ones I give to my men. Some are dangerous. Some even suicidal. But it's my job to carry out those orders. We are warriors. Warriors kill, and warriors die. We by our very nature are all expendable. Some more than others. That is a harsh reality that we all must face. As a leader, my job is to use them to their best ability, and only expend them if it is absolutely necessary. I don't by any means do it lightly. The man you killed right in front of me still runs in my thoughts. But he served his purpose, and he did it honorably. That's all that a soldier can hope for. To serve honorably or to die honorably." Honor "There is no such thing as 'dying honorably' Baldur, death is death regardless of the way you die or the way you served. How do you tell the wife and children of the soldier who died, that they'll never see them again, because you ordered them to do something suicidal? Tell them to feel happy they died honorably'?" He continued "I never issue an order that the chance of the soldier returning is zero, and even then I always head into the fray first and foremost. I also use any tactic at my disposal regardless if it's considered cowardly to use, if it helps the chance of my men returning home." Baldur was about to wrap this up, but he found the conversation intriguing, so he continued. "What kind of a Nord are you? No such thing as dying honorably? What? You know what I'd say to those families? What I've had to say before? That they'd see them again in Sovngarde. That is the home of all true Nords who die honorably in combat, or have you forgotten? I heard you weren't from around here, but surely you know this much. Granted, all of my men are no longer just Nords, but the Dunmer are a tough and hearty people. Their view on death is it is a journey rather than an end. An admirable belief not too different from ours. Point being death is not something to be afraid of. A true Nord embraces it, and a true leader realizes it is inevitable to avoid it. All a leader can do is to believe that his men can do the job, and do it well. What you speak of, watching over them like a nurse maiden, or rather in your case, like a mother wolf guarding her pups, is insulting and no way for a leader of a military to conduct himself. Believe in your men, and they will believe in you. All you've managed to do is abandon them." Lorgar smiled revealing yet again his wolf like teeth, he liked this soldier's attitude despite disagreeing with his view point and was enjoying this philosophical debate. Ignoring the little comment of him acting like a mother wolf, decided to give him a little taste of his past, "I don't believe in Sovngarde despite most of my men believing ...I was raised with the belief that when you die your body and soul return's to the All-maker..." he continued further, "The way I treat my men is due to my upbringing, I was taught that everyone around you is your brother, and as a benefit of being my family I put them above my own needs, and put theirs first. I incorporate that upbringing into my unit's core values." Baldur walked through the water and got even closer to Lorgar. He looked in the warrior's eyes and told him what he never told anyone else. "You say you don't believe in Sovngarde, but I know Sovngarde is real. You almost sent me there. The place is as real as you and I sitting here. I know it to be fact. I was damn near death when you sent that arrow through the back of my shoulder. I met the men that died because of me, and I met the great Tsun. I also met some of the men that died in this war." He turned back around and let his back show to the prisoner while reminiscing over his memory of Sovngarde. "One thing I learned on my trip there was that no matter the faction, we're all Nords. True has no meaning when describing one's kind. We're all Nords, Stormcloak or Legion. We all go to Sovngarde after death just the same. But regardless of that fact, I cannot show you sympathy or kindness. Not so long as you endanger my home. And that goes for anyone involved with helping you. I came down here to torture you. Something that I've been avoiding all day. But it seems my fate is to put my country's fate above my own personal honor. So, strange warrior, I ask that you can forgive me for what I must do next." Baldur stepped out of the cell, and went by the door to call for Witchie. "Witchie, get down here! I'm going to need your assistance." Lorgar couldn't help but laugh. Forgiveness... Lorgar didn't care if Baldur was out of range, "You cant break me Baldur, I've felt pain that would kill over a dozen men..." Lorgar smiled, and yet again revealed his wolf like fangs, and this time spoke in his deep primal voice, "Let's see what your made of..." "Witchie, get down here! I'm going to need your assistance." Baldur had discovered his prisoner's weakness. It was his good heart. He hated that he had to take advantage of this, but it could not be helped. "Witchie, get down h-" "I'm already here." Baldur was startled from hearing the voice behind him, but he didn't let it show. "Witchie, your illusion magic. Can it be used to project images of people?" "Yes but it's a bit tricky. How tricky depends on if you want me to reshape an already existing person or create an entirely new one," said the Witch King. "How tricky would it be to make entirely new individuals?" asked Baldur. "It's tricky as I got nothing to work with and have to create the body, the appearance and the movement from scratch. If you give me person to base the look on it would be easier to create the image. It's doable without one but the process would slower." "If all you need is a person to base it on, then my first request will be easy. The first I need are two imperial soldiers from his wolf pack. If you can remember two faces of the soldiers who attacked our fort, then that would be best. The last is a bit more trickier. I need the image of a young woman. Surely you have someone in your life you can base it on?" asked Baldur. Witchie remembered at least three soldiers from from the attack on the fort. Problem was that he didn't know which ones of them that had survived his wolf. Hopefully the Legate would be in a too shaken condition and corpses were too ravaged to be recognized that he would not remember that they're probably dead. He created the imperials first. They had the wolf-like armor that he remembered and they just stood there waiting for him to command them. As for the woman, he did want to get this over with as fast as possible so he choose the woman he remembered most from one of his few good memories, even if it would pain him greatly to see her again. He started to shape the image of the woman directly from his memory. When the woman took shape she was wearing a black hooded robe, similar to his own but not as torn. She was kissing him as the image of her took shape. Then she backed off, pulled down the hood and placed herself besides the imperials. She was beautiful with long red hair and a soft smile. She was the woman that lay on the altar in his dreams, having her soul consumed by hagravens. "Before you ask. She's dead. And those who killed her are too." Baldur was impressed by the skill of the Witch King's magic. He wondered if the Legate would remember these men, and realize they were dead, but he decided he wouldn't show their faces for long. And the woman...she was beautiful. She would most certainly get a reaction out of the Legate. "Thank you, Witchie. I appreciate what you are doing by making the image of this girl. I can tell you were close with her. So forgive me for what I must do to this memory of yours. One more thing. Can you hold their images intact if I kill them? And realistically? Would that be too strong of a drain on your magicka?" "Kill them? How do you kill an illusion? All I need to do is add some blood and make them fall to he ground. Images that don't move are actually easier to keep active." And whatever you do to her can never be worse than what has already been done. With that said, Baldur took the two soldiers down to the Legate's cell, and said loudly enough for him to hear before he did, "What I do with these prisoners is none of your concern, and I don't want you interfering no matter what I do to them. Now come with me." Witchie followed the Captain into the cell to watch the interrogation and to see what the Captain had planned, mainly to control the images but also for the illusion of the young woman. "Look at me, Legate. Now, tell me where your camp is." "Fuck you..." Lorgar said, staring directly in the captain's eyes, in an utterly serious and calm voice, he could change his vocal patterns at ease to reflect how he wanted his mental condition to be seen as, in this case undaunted. In actuality, he was utterly terrified for his men, but he wouldn't give the information, he couldn't... Baldur felt horrible for what he was about to do next, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he pretended to be angry. "I have NO TIME FOR THIS, LORGAR!" Baldur forced the illusion of the soldier to his left on his knees with his hands in front of the Legate, then began to walk away. Then with the quickness of a seasoned warrior, he whipped out one of his axes from his right side and spun around, lobbing off the soldier's head in the process. The clouds had covered the moon in the exact time of the decapitation. When the moon was uncovered a few seconds later, the soldier's head had been on the floor, bobbing up and down in the water that had covered it. The blood began to spread rapidly, and eventually all the water had turned crimson. This illusion magic is truly incredible, Baldur had thought to himself. Blood sprayed all across Lorgar's face...his face remained calm, but inside his body was screaming out. He could see the soldier's decapitated head, and all of the water in the cell had become pure crimson, from the soldiers leaking fluids. No no no... "I wont tell you anything you bastard..." Baldur was really getting into the role of merciless torturer. He realized that a part of him rather enjoyed this. And that scared him more than anything. He justified it by the fact that he wasn't causing any physical harm, but he didn't truly believe it was any better. Baldur kicked over the first fake soldiers body to the left so that the other could stand in front of the Legate. He forced the soldier in front of Lorgar, and put his axe to his face to line up the strike. "Say goodbye to your commanding officer, soldier." "No, not like this. I don't want to die like this. I don't want t-" Baldur pulled his hand back, then slammed his axe through the second soldier's face before he could finish. His axe was half buried in his jugular, and Baldur had to use his free hand to lift the top part of the skull off of his war axe. The body made a loud splash as it slumped over into the water in front of Lorgar. What was left of the fake soldier's skull was facing the Legate. Baldur held the top of the skull in his hand, and threw it and it's contents in Lorgar's face. "Their deaths are on your hands, Legate." The skull landed with a large thump right into Lorgars jaw area, when it hit it rebounded onto the ground close to Lorgar's feet. Even more blood now covered Lorgar's face, which had now dropped it's calm expression and was replace with a face filled with horror and guilt, the Legionaries final words were haunting his thoughts, I let him die, it's my fault- No, Lorgar.. don't...no I wont break, I wont BREAK, "FUCK YOU!" Lorgar started to sweat, and his body was stating to toss and turn, he even started to try and turn his head away from the gristly scene, he wouldn't break. To take his mind off the ordeal, Lorgar started to quote the Imperial legion's twenty page motto, "And we shall bear sword and shield in the Empire's name, we shall take the fight to the enemy and defend the emperor's name..." Lorgar turned his blood stained face with renewed determination and faced the Captain directly , "We are doom, we are bane, we are steel..." Baldur at this point really hated himself for what he was doing to this man. I feel like complete and udder horker shit right about now. But why? This man was my enemy. This man tried to kill me! This man, this Lorgar killed my men for real, and I feel guilty for pretending to kill his? This makes no sense. Maybe because even despite all those things I can see that he is a good man. Maybe because despite our differences I can see he is only doing what I am trying to do, which is fighting for what I believe in. In another life he and I could have been comrades. But in this life we are not. And so I must do what I have to...for my land, and for the people in it. Baldur walked out of the room and brought back the next illusion. The woman was wearing her hood over her face when he brought her in. Baldur stood in front of the Legate once more and pushed the fake woman into the middle of the cell where the moonlight, now shining down unhindered by clouds, shined on her like a heavenly beam that sharply contrasted with the grotesque scene that it illuminated. Baldur pulled the hood off of the fake woman harshly, and grabbed the back of her neck. The girl looked completely startled and terrified. She began stammering in her speech trying to say "please help", but never got past please. Baldur shed a tear down his cheek, and had to bite his tongue to snap himself out of it. It's an illusion. It's just an illusion! "Look at me. LOOK AT ME, LORGAR! Tell me where the fucking camp is!" Lorgar practically screamed out in absolute terror and fright, "What the fuck are you doing Baldur?! She's a fucking civilian!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Baldur looked into Lorgar's eyes and said plainly. "I'm not doing a thing. You are. Her fate is in your hands. I think that you may be stronger than I gave you credit for, and I gave you a lot of credit. So, if death won't break you, maybe I can give this girl a fate worse than death. Girl, you are believed to have been spying for the Imperial army. So as a spy and enemy of this land, what happens to you is entirely up to me. Now....disrobe." Lorgar was practically trying to rip out of the iron chains and rush to the young girls aid, she looked like she was in her early adult years, 20 at the most. Lorgar didn't bother to hide the absolute rage that was seething out of his voice and shown in his face, "Don't do this Baldur!!!! Don't fucking do this!!!!!!!!!!" Lorgar face was snarling, revealing his fangs. "Shut up. Girl, disrobe. Now." Baldur dropped his weapons and began to unfasten his armor as the illusion of the woman revealed herself to him. Baldur was on his last legs. If Lorgar refused once more, he would simply kill the illusion, and leave the Legate among the fake mess. Illusion or no illusion, he couldn't pretend to violate a woman, no matter the reason. "Last chance Lorgar." The loud splash and thud of Baldur's armor hitting the water, and the stone under it filled the cell. "Where's the camp?" Lorgar bowed his head in defeat, he couldn't...he couldn't watch another girl be violated. Those horrible images of the sack of Whiterun still haunt him. "Wait...stop Baldur..." Lorgar knew he had no other choice, he couldn't watch the girl suffer a fate worse then death when he had the chance to stop it...even it meant betraying his men...his own brothers. I'm sorry Storn...I cant let this go on... "Don't do it...The camp is located north of Falkreath, beside the old path and lake Fairview..." Forgive me Soldiers...I traded my unit for a civilian... "You have what you want, now let the girl go..." Lorgar said emotionlessly, his whole body went limp, and Lorgar's voice sounded if something died inside him... Baldur could hear the defeat in his voice. He was telling the truth, thank Talos. "Witchie, undo the illusion." In the darkness of the cell, Lorgar could see everything that tugged at his heart, the thing that caused him to break, disappear. The blood, his soldiers corpses, the girl. All of it vanished it single instance. Everything. Lorgar, didn't have to say a word, his actions spoke much louder. Lorgar's body instantly started to tense up, foam started to form around his fang covered mouth. His body started to violently shake and tried to break free from the chains the bounded his body. Lorgar's face was filled with fury, that would cause an average soldier to shit in his pants and beg for his mother. Lorgar started screaming, the sounds that came from his mouth sounded like the absolute incarnate of the wolf mixed with the essence of pure fury. He started to pull at his chains, attempting to rip them into little pieces. The water around the cell started to grow violent as Lorgar actions made the water around him splash frequently and messily. "BALDUR...I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD, YOU FUCKING BASTARD I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU HEAR ME?!...." Baldur was unmoved by the violent display of anger and fury that was presented before him. "Maybe. But not today. Today I get retribution for the families who will no longer have their fathers, brothers and husbands. Today, I make the Empire pay dearly for not accepting our independence, and today I do my country proud. Today I show you how foolish a leader you've been, and this time, the men I slay won't be illusions. On the off chance that Ulfric decides to use you as leverage against the Empire, and you do survive, I hope you remember this day well the next time you find yourself leading men. If not, then I'll see you in Sovngarde. Good-bye, Lorgar. Let's go, Witchie." Baldur picked up his armor and weapons from the now clear water upon the cell floor, and walked out the cell. As Baldur walked away from the cell with Witchie, he heard nothing but silence. Lorgar stopped his violent actions, and simply starred at the water covered floor. I failed...I failed myself and my men.

Rebec Red-Eye Camp Rommulas Rebec had woken some time in the afternoon, but had not let on that she was awake, so that she could listen to the talk of the imperial soldiers who passed close by the captain’s tent. There was no sign of Lorgar himself, and soon she understands the tension in the air. The captain is missing. She has some burns from the shock spells, like red rashes, and is still bruised from the wolf attack. At last she can lay still no longer and tries to sit up. Her hands and feet are fesseled. One of the guards posted at the tent entrance hears her stirring and hurries in. He is reluctant, but finally allows her to go under guard to the stream to wash herself. Her male guard sneaks a peek occasionally. Rebec doesn't take this ill. She's not as comely as she was ten years and a few dozen battles ago. Afterward she has to put the dirty, blood-stained Stormcloak uniform back on; there is nothing for that, she would not wear the red had they offered it. Even the smuggler has a little loyalty in her. She is given a meal of cold tack, then fesseled again, but is allowed to stand outside the captain’s tent and smoke. They are being cautious now. Her guard keeps their blade sheaths unfastened. That suits Rebec just fine. All the easier it will be to grab one of the swords if there is an opportunity. In the meantime she lights up with the ra’gada lighter and marks the soldiers’ movements, who seems to be in charge now and who is more timid, how the land outside the camp lays. The medic comes by to check on her. She shoos him away. At present the Thalmor are nowhere to be seen. Maybe they had had something to do with the captain’s disappearance. Had he landed into trouble for intervening for her? Lie down with a blind man, wake up cross-eyed, she thinks, then remembers Erikur's messages, that she has not been seeing too clearly herself.

Reval, Do'jhul Upon hearing the captain's orders, Reval gleefully turned to the captured the Khajiit and said, "Guess what, feline? We don't really need your information anymore. Hope you like your cell because that's where you're going to remain for the rest of this time." "We'll see, dark elf." Reval then turned to the captain and said, "I'll be changing out of this filthy Imperial outfit. Try not to have too much fun without me." Reval then turned and left the prison area. Reval walked for a bit to his room, all the while relaxing a bit and thinking, "You know, I'm kind of glad there was only a bunch of scavengers. If the real camp was there, I really doubt I could have taken all of them myself. I would hate to lose more soldiers. Had enough bad luck back in Fort Amol with a bunch of regular Imperials. Hate to see what these savage Imperials would act like. Good thing my son isn't here. He always idolized me and would be too much of a hassle for me to control." Reval opened the door to his room and slipped back into his signature armor. Reval then sat on his bed for a while and opened a small letter from his wife. It read: Dear Reval, I hope you are doing well. With the news of what the Imperials are doing, I fear the worst. Good thing you are going to show those Imperials what real Dunmer can do! I hope Vordyn isn't as headstrong as you. Poor boy always wanted to follow in your footsteps. I still say you should say something to him. He shouldn't risk himself in such dangerous missions. Next time you come back, you should have a talk with him and make him reconsider being in the Stormcloaks. The way things are turning, I fear for him. Still, I hope you are doing your best. With love, Anlay. Reval chuckled and said, "Guess I should teach that boy some manners. I'll be sure to do that so Anlay doesn't worry." As Reval folded the letter back into the shelf, Reval decided to return to the prison cell. As he was walking by, Reval heard a conversation between two Stormcloak soldiers. "Did you hear? Witchie killed somebody in a brutal fashion. Not even I would do that to an enemy, and he just up and murdered some hapless civilian" "Yeah, remind me never to get him angry." Upon hearing this, Reval decided to sit in his room and wait for the captain and Witchie to return. "I have some things to talk to Witchie about." * Later on into the night Do'jhul carefully planned his escape. Usually at this hour, a Stormcloak soldier, the same one everytime, would come to the prison area and bring Do'jhul something to eat. Before he knew, the door opened and closed. Do'jhul could hear the footsteps of the guard coming down the stairs and stopping right in front of his cell. Do'jhul opened his eyes and saw the guard kneel down and place the plate of food in front of his cell. As soon as the guard turned around to walk away rom the cell, Do'jhul reached through the bars and grabbed the man's head and twisted his neck in a split second. It happened so fast, the man didn't even have time to breathe. Feeling around the guard's waist, Do'jhul heard the jingle of keys. Yes! Taking the key ring, Do'jhul tested each key until one of them unlocked the door. After the ordeal, Do'jhul knew he didn't have much time before someone found out what happened and would alert the entire fort to his presence. Quickly walking over to the corner of the room, Do'jhul got all of his equipment on and finally buckled on his sword. Taking the advice of the Captain, Dojhul used the secret exit on left side of the room. Finally emerging from the water, Do'jhul shook himself of the water. Damn it's cold. I need to reach the Camp now! Do'jhul got on all fours and sprinted towards the direction of Camp Rommulas.......

Baldur, Witchie "Witchie, what did you find out from the thalmor?" "The book was to be delivered to a Grand Overseer Tyrian. They were to deliver it with this engraved cloth." Witchie held up the silken cloth with one hand, freezing the edge he was holding so it was dangling like a banner. He held it so Baldur could see the runes clearly. "It's for teleporting items. And I got back here with the Thalmor through a recall spell." he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the wagon. The crowd was still cheering at the Thalmor that jumped around. Witchie could not help but to smile. Seeing the Thalmor who used to threaten and boast about their "superiority" jump around like a crazed chicken was nothing short of hilarious. Baldur was about to ask him how in the hell did he know how to use a teleporting spell, but decided not to, as it wasn't important. That and he's not sure he'd believe him anyway. "Grand Overseer? That sounds like an exceptionally high rank. Does that Thalmor agent over there know how to unseal these runes?" Baldur asked. "If he have to use a scroll to activate the runes on this cloth, I doubt it." "Guess that makes this a dead end. No matter. I have something cooking up soon. You go back and have your fun. Reval, back to our conversation. Like I was saying, I...." Before Baldur got out his sentence, he was once again interrupted. A soldier on the battlements called out to him and said a messenger was at the gates. Baldur apologized to Reval, and went to receive whatever the courier had brought him. The messenger soldier was riding on horseback, and the horse looked very worn out. The message must have been important for the soldier to drive his horse so hard. He was an average Stormcloak soldier, with only an iron sword for protection, most likely traveling light to get here quicker. He looked young and inexperienced. No scars, no cuts, clean cut face, no warpaint. Like a baby's bottom. Young. He had long dark black hair with a braid on his left side, and honestly looked like he could pass for a woman. Baldur wondered if that was just his long period of being without the comfort of one talking. Ha, I need to take a visit to a brothel or something asap. Or to the Honeyside Inn in Riften... His inexperience is probably why he got stuck with messenger boy duty in the first place. The messenger noticed the Thalmor when he walked in. He seemed to be afraid, maybe pondering on the response making a Thalmor soldier look like a fool would receive. "Good evening sir, I've been looking for you. Got something to give you. Lets see...It's a letter from Boldir Iron-Brow. Says urgent on the outside of the note. Well, thats it. I'll be heading back to Falkreath now." Baldur stopped the soldier and told him to wait a moment, as he'd need to send a letter back to his second. Baldur's jaw dropped from his mouth when he read the contents. Baldur, I am writing this hurriedly as I have much to do. So forgive me if anything is left out. I can explain things better in person. I currently have a Legate of the Imperial Legion in captivity here in Falkreath. This man is not ordinary and killed two of my own before being brought down. This man took over a dozen arrows and is still alive. I don't know what he is, but I believe he will make for an important prisoner. Boldir Baldur was wide eyed reading that letter. "Shor's stones! Not even a day since I gave Boldir this position and he's already caught a frikkin Legate? I wonder if its the same one that the Khajiit said shot me...If he's the leader of the force and he's captured, we need to strike their camp hard before they try to mount a rescue. Messenger, take this back to him immediately. You make some ink and a pen on you? The messenger did, and Baldur wrote hastily. Boldir, I will be coming to Falkreath soon. Hopefully with the location of the enemy's camp. After I get there, we'll charge the camp and put an end to this. Good job. I'll be recommending you to Ulfric as a Captain once this is all over. See you soon. After that, the soldier took off on his horse an hour later after it got some food and water. Baldur began thinking. He was going to duel the cat to get the info, but now thanks to Boldir, he had other options. Torture wasn't going to work on the cat, so he had planned on appealing to his sense of honor through the duel. If he won, he'd gin the info, and if he lost, he'd have his men follow him and the cat to their camp. But that plan was risky, because the cat could lie, and the cat could detect someone if they were being followed, and screw the whole plan. But now that he had the Legate thanks to Boldir...None of that is needed. "Witchie! Change of plans. You and I are taking a trip to Falkreath. Recent developments will require your expertise." Baldur handed the letter to the Lieutenant so that he could read it, and Baldur began giving orders to Reval. "Reval, I'm going to Falkreath with Witchie. There, my friend Boldir has the enemy Legate captive. I'm going to persuade him to give up his camp. After that, I'll send Witchie back, and you two will lead the men here to the location. Me and Bldir will meet you nearby. We'll leave tomorrow at night, got it? I'll see you there. Oh, and tell the cat to forget my offer. His assistance is no longer required." Witchie read the letter. This man could be interesting to meet. But I should deal with the Thalmor before I leave. Witchie formed a magicka crystal in his hand and with it he walked up to the Thalmor. He dismissed the creeps so the Thalmor feel onto the ground exhausted. Witchie crouched besides the Thalmor and put the crystal in the Thalmor's hand. He then froze it to the hand and created a link between the crystal and the elf so that he would be constantly drained on magicka. He then bowed down and whispered in the elf's ear: "I will be back for the crystal... And your soul." And then he summoned another creep from Namira's realm. This one looked like a grotesque little larva with a round mouth filled with thousands of tiny razor sharp teeth. He helled it above the the Thalmor head. The Thalmor looked both horrified and disgusted at the sight the little thing. "This little bugger will keep you company till then." Witchie whispered into his ear. He stuffed the larva down the cuirass of the elf. The elf tried to scream and twitch as the larva started to burrow itself into his chest. But he was still gagged by magic. Witchie went back to the captain. "Lock him up for now. And what is this plan you're talking about?" "I haven't fully worked it out just yet. I'll need to get creative. Which is why I need you. Now, lets go to Falkreath."

Boldir Falkreath Just before midnight Boldir walked the streets. It was late, but he wasn't tired yet. Baldur should be getting the letter soon. I wonder what his take on all this is. Between this guy and the cat, how many more leaders can they have? Boldir walked past the Longhouse and continues down the road. I suppose thinking Falkreath would be a boring posting was a mistake. As Boldir passed by the guard quarters, he decided to check the prison to see if his new prisoner was awake. Upon reaching the cell room, he heard a lot of screams and grunts. "Arggghh! Is that all you've got you piece of shit?!?" What the- "Ahhh! Maybe if you weren't a bunch of pansy milk-drinkers you'd actually have killed me!" Boldir stormed down the stairs and ran to the cell on the left. The one designed for housing the most dangerous of prisoners. He saw Lorgar slumped over, now with many bruises to add to the blood, and three city guardsmen standing around him with clubs. "Men stand down!" All four turned. "Sir, this man killed our friends!" "I know soldier. But this man is already half-dead! If I lose my prisoner because you idiots wanted to blow off steam I can assure you, I'll have some anger to let off off myself! Now get out." The three guards hurried out of the prison, making sure that the cell was locked down tight before retreating to their quarters. Boldir walked over to the cell. "You know I had half a mind to let them finish. But a friend of mine is coming, and I'd imagine he's gonna have something else in mind for you. I can have a medic come down and heal you a bit, it wouldn't do to have you bleed out too soon. But you have to promise to comply to his treatment. What say you?" Lorgar nodded, before coughing out a massive amount of blood, "Aye, I wont bite...heeheheheh not anymore at least..." Lorgar's face went serious, and his tone apologetic, "I'm...sorry you and your men had to see and face me like that I...wouldn't want anyone to suffer what happened to those two men even if they are stormcloaks...being felled in utter terror and brutality...did they have families?" "Yes. Goldun had a son in Dawnstar. Herik got married just a month ago. His wife is here in town. Plenty of the others would love to kill you for this." Boldir let that sink in for a moment before continuing. "But there's another matter to discuss. Before you went wild, I gave you a last chance to accept my offer. And even in those circumstances, you refused. You yelled something about that girl and the Thalmor." Boldir's face grew dark. "A prisoner of war is one thing, but if one of ours has been handed to the Thalmor, someone is going to pay. I don't know this soldier, but we take care of our own. I'm only going to ask this once. Is she safe?" Lorgar stood silent for a moment, and then spoke, "We treated her wounds...and then a high-ranking Aldmeri overseer ordered us to hand her over for interrogation. I tried to protest...but it was futile. I thought he was going to simply ask her questions...they tortured her. After she fell unconscious, I had enough. I took her from his custody and escorted her to my tent, she's currently being tended after and guarded by a team of my men, so yes, she's currently safe." Lorgar chuckled darkly, "It appears I widowed a wife, and orphaned a child..." with a tone of self-disgust, "If Frea and Storn could see me now..." And this, is why I hate the Imperials. "You handed someone over to the Thalmor and expected them to treat her fairly? You are either a fool or worse, another Thalmor boot-licker like the rest. As for the dead, do you really think that this was the first time that you've created orphans and widows? You are invading our home. Every death is on your precious Emperor's hands." That sparked something in Lorgar, "Your fucking home?! Your home!?" Lorgar couldn't contain himself anymore, he started speaking in a primal voice, "You do fucking know that the majority of soldiers currently in the legion ARE nords? So just because they don't agree with your fucking political views, and don't bend down to that fucking ursuper's knee, they're not nords?" Lorgar started laughing again, "Ulfric's the one that started this war, BOY, you think that you're fucking innocent!?" Everyone in the prison could now hear the utter hate and fury in Lorgar's voice, "What about the fucking battle of Whiterun, when you stormcloaks raped the civilian population, hmmmm? What was your fucking excuse?!! They weren't 'true nords of Skyrim', and were 'imperial Milk Drinkers' right?..." Lorgar's face was filled with disgust, This is the reason why I hate the stormcloaks... "Us legionaries acknowledge that we do bad things...we acknowledged that we made a deal with the devil...but we make no excuses. You Stormcloaks think that were invading your home? Well to most of us, SKYRIM is our home. You think your knights in shining armor?! Time to get a reality check, boy, I've seen countless war crimes committed by your 'white' knights. You're just fucking hypocrites..." Boldir waited patently for the Legate to finish his vent. He'd heard it all before. Resist the urge Boldir. You didn't come here for a damn debate. "I'm not here to argue philosophies with you Legate. You and I both know that an argument will lead nowhere for either of us. So I'll drop it now. How about that healer?" Lorgar, having calmed down a bit, spoke to the captain with his normal voice, "That would be greatly appreciated..." Lorgar, ignoring that fact that he had "company", closed his eyes, and started chanting words in ancient Solstheim. Boldir stood there for a moment, regarding the Legate as he chanted in some strange language. Who is this guy? As Boldir left the prison, he motioned for a guard to take a healer and go do something about the Legate's wounds. He leaned in close to the guard. "He is NOT to be harmed. Am I understood?" "Yes sir." "Good." Boldir looked up at the night sky. It must've been coming on midnight. "Time to finally get some sleep." And with that, Boldir strode to the Longhouse, where he collapsed on his bed still fully-armored. Maybe I'll finally be able to slee- He was out before he finished the the thought. ... "Sir!" Shit. Boldir rolled out of bed. He couldn't have been asleep for much more than a couple hours. "What?" He asked tiredly, but with a bit of venom, slightly pissed that he'd been awakened so late. "I have a message sir." Boldir's eyes widened a bit. It wasn't until now that he realized that this was the same young man he'd sent to Fort Neugrad before. He grabbed the message and read over it. Boldir, I will be coming to Falkreath soon. Hopefully with the location of the enemy's camp. After I get there, we'll charge the camp and put an end to this. Good job. I'll be recommending you to Ulfric as a Captain once this is all over. See you soon. Boldir waved away the courier. So we're taking the offensive. Good. I'm sure Baldur will be pleased to see how the city has shaped up. He'll be even more pleased to get to chat with my prisoner. But all that can wait for tomorrow. If I'm gonna be fighting, I'll need some rest. With that, Boldir went back to bed. It would be another hour before he could go back to sleep. * "Hey legate, want some milk?" The stormcloak guard said with a mocking tone and a smirk, Ignore him. "Its not like your mother's milk, but we have a jar here if your interested..." The guard continued on. Lorgar simply, and quite civilly, responded with, "I'm already full from your sister's milk when she paid me a little visit to my cell , thank you very much..." "You fucking- Before the pissed off guard could take further action, the second guard placed his hand reassuringly on the first guard's shoulder, "The captain ordered us not to harm the prisoner..." "Fine..."

Lorgar Grim-Maw Falkreath prison Lorgar felt like shit...real shit. He was literally dripping with blood, covered in deep wounds, and he was also in chains and shackles, What the fuck happened- The soldier with the ripped throat, and the taste of blood in the mouth came back to Lorgar almost instantly, as did the suicidal charge against the stormcloak archers. Lorgar couldn't help but laugh out loud at the situation, Hehehehehehh that was a fucking ailure, captured by fucking stormcloaks.... His face grew serious once again, after realizing what happened after that entertaining charge. Fuck...it happened again...I'm surprised they managed to take me down... "Hey why the fuck where you laughing Milk Drinker?" He then turned his head to the left, and noticed three pissed off soldiers staring down at him threw the bars of his cell. "You heard me you fucking twit, we lost two good soldiers today because of you, so why the fuck are you laughing?" Lorgar wasn't going to be talked down by these grunts, even though he was sorry that he killed those two-men in the way he did. "Hey, I think I did you stormcloaks a favor, by killing those two stormcloaks I purged the weak from your ranks..." That severely pissed them off. "You bitch, me and the boy's are going too teach you to keep your mouth shut." The three stormcloaks entered the room, all carrying wooden clubs... Ohhhh shit...

Lorgar Grim-Maw, Boldir Iron-Brow Camp Rommulas Lorgar gently dropped the nord onto his cot, before heading outside. He stopped only too tell the three soldiers he brought along with him, "I'm going for a scouting OP, no one is to enter or leave this tent, understand?" The all nodded and saluted sharply Lorgar headed into the pine forest, leaving the confines of camp Rommulas behind him. He wore the trade-mark light wolf armor his unit was known for, he carried a massive two-handed warhammer, which was gifted to him from one of his closest friends, General Marius Imperius of the 6th legion. He also carried a quiver of a massive steel tipped arrows, along with a very large great bow. He was heading to Falkreath. It was only a forty minute walk, but was marred with dangers such as wolves and stormcloak scouts, which where admittedly little more then ants to Lorgar. Hehehehehe, this is going to be a coffee and cake run...the guards here wouldn't notice a mammoth until it hit them in the head... As he reached the cliff that overlooked the large town of Falkreath and narrowed his vision, Lorgar was pleasantly surprised. Previously, the gate of Falkreath was completely un-defended, currently five archers stood on the top battlement, and 4 guards blocked the entrance into the town. Also inside the town, there was double the amount that was normally on duty, and they looked alot more alert. Interesting, maybe a command swap? Lorgar had an idea forming in his head, as he now headed towards the main gate into Falkreath, fully clad in imperial armor waving a white flag with a crudely drawn olive branch (Meaning "peace") as he approached the guards. *** Falkreath Boldir was in the middle of speaking with the prisoners Dengeir had tortured when the door burst open. "Sir, there's a soldier outside the main gate! He's waving a white flag." Boldir turned to see a young Stormcloak gasping for breath. He'd obviously been quick to bring the news."Thank you soldier." He turned to the prisoners and smiled. "Don't worry. you won't be touched while I'm gone. I don't think you're guilty, and if I'm right, you'll be out of here soon." Boldir strode down the street toward the main gate, where he found a man wearing Wolf Armor, and a Stormcloak soldier holding a fine looking looking warhammer, which must've been the man's. He decided to be as straightforward as possible. "Who are you?" Lorgar was ready to burst out in laughter, this was really entertaining, and he wanted to say, Who am I? i'm the fucking great wolf, Lorgar Grim-Maw of the wolf pack! Instead, he decided to approach this in a friendly manner, he saluted, and stated in a warm voice, "Legate Lorgar Grim-Maw, IX Cohort, you are the commanding officer correct?" Boldir stared into the Legate's eyes. "Aye. That I am. Obviously you're here to negotiate, or you wouldn't have come alone. Either that, or you're a spy. Either way, it's growing dark, and you and I can finish this indoors. Guards, escort the Legate to the Longhouse." Boldir followed, keeping his eyes on the man. If he is a spy, he has little to gain from coming here. The Fort would've been better. Maybe he actually intends to negotiate. Let's wait and see. Upon arriving in the Longhouse, Boldir turned to Lorgar. Who stood in front him, guarded by two Stormcloak soldiers. "So Legate, why are you here?" Lorgar, thought for a moment, he would speak under the guise of attempting to negotiate. He noticed the insignia of a stormcloak captain on the officer, "Well captain, i'm here to see if we can settle these matters without blood-shed. As you probably know, under orders from Emperor Motierre, General Marius basically declared war on Skyrim..." He turned towards the two alert stormcloak soldiers, and addressed the captain, "Alert and disciplined...a few months ago, they were the exact opposite to the extent of my men probably being able to walk right in the town without being noticed..." Outwardly, Boldir showed no emotion. Inwardly however, he smiled with pride. These men really have shaped up nicely. "You're a Nord. Are you really surprised to see these men up in arms to defend their homeland from tyranny?" He looked at the guards, who appeared glad to get recognition from their leader. "But that's beside the point. Do you have any negotiation terms or not? Because I can't think of any realistic terms that I'd actually accept. Please, prove me wrong." Lorgar chuckled, "Indeed, though that's the reason why this little war started, we all have different definitions of tyranny" It wouldn't hurt to humor him... "In terms of terms...Full control of pale pass...and the "things" that your Jarl does when he captures my men...have to stop...." Logar dropped his friendly face while he uttered those finally words, and replaced it with cold fury. Now it was Boldir's turn to chuckle. "Request denied. We're hardly just going to give you a piece of Skyrim." Like Lorgar, he grew serious upon addressing the next matter. He originally planned to withhold any information from this man. But this wasn't about military matters. He was clearly just concerned for his troops. Despite his hatred for the Imperials, Boldir knew that the Jarl's crimes were inexcusable, and that if he had any honor in him, he'd let this man know his friends and the other prisoners are safe. "As for the prisoners, let's just say that the matter has already been taken care of. They're safe. There you go Legate, you got one wish for free." As I already knew, It would be plain stupid to ask for control of the pass... His face regained the warmth when he heard about the matter with his men being resolved, and un-characteristically smiled, "I greatly appreciate it captain... soldiers, regardless of their outfit, should be treated with equal respect, since in a way we're all comrades in arms with each-other..." He looked at the captain sharply, and spoke, "So, what terms would be suitable to you captain?" He thinks I'm the Captain. "Before I give you my terms, there's something that must be addressed... You insult my intelligence." Boldir grimaced. This man may be honorable, but that doesn't mean that he has to be honest. "You can't really expect me to believe that you came here, in hostile territory, solely to make a ridiculous demand and expect me to just shake your hand and accept. I'm not stupid Lorgar. You're obviously here to spy on us." Boldir motioned for the guards to draw their weapons. "Now for my term. A woman was captured last night. A fellow Stormcloak. You have her brought to Falkreath, unharmed, and I allow you to leave my city. A simple grunt for your freedom. Sound fair?" Fuck that... Lorgar sprung into action instantly, and with the speed of the wolf, disarmed the first guard and placed him into a chokehold while bringing his own blade to his throat, while saying sarcastically "Hmmm let me think about that while I have your man here hostage..." He smiled, revealing his fang like teeth, "I'm not one of those sissy officers from Cyrodili lad, I earned this rank..." Ah, so I'm dealing with a wolf here after all. Too bad he's a wolf among bears. Shame that it came to this. Boldir quickly drew his own axe and slowly circled to the right of the Legate, blocking his way to the door. The other Stormcloak quickly ran out the door to gather reinforcements. "I'm no stranger to war, either. You've done nothing but confirm my suspicions. What do you intend to do Legate?" Boldir asked. "Use this man as a shield to escape? You know that's not going to happen. You may be skilled, but you can't possibly expect to fight your way out of here. So how about you let my man go and consider your circumstances!" "Consider my circumstances....Hmmmm...So i either let the lad go, and end up as a prisoner...or I try and fight my way out..." Lorgar smiled, there was only one option to him. "You're right and wrong at the same time lad, I didn't come her to parley... but I didn't come here to spy. I was intrigued about who was in command, and came to measure their quality as a soldier and as a man." Lorgar nodded in respect "You pleasantly surprised me." With those final words Lorgar slammed the soldier into the wall, knocking him unconscious, let out a ear-splitting howl, and charged at the door way with in-human speed and ferocity. Boldir stepped aside, allowing the Legate to pass. This will be a good test of the new force's ability to respond to an emergency. He watched as Lorgar burst through the door to find almost a dozen guards waiting outside. Most had bows aimed at the Legate. Several more were watching from various spots around the street. Boldir stood behind him. "I thought my terms were fair. Are you really so attached to our woman that you wouldn't hand her over for your own life?" Lorgar let out a massive laugh, this was getting really fun. "I defied a thalmor overseer to protect that prisoner, and failed...I wont have my efforts wasted by some stormcloaks..." Lorgar went on all fours for a handful of seconds, and let out another howl. He got back up on his legs, but was in a hunched feral position now with his face in a wide grin, once again, revealing his wolf like teeth, he practically screamed as he charged the eight soldiers. "I AM THE FANG OF MEDE, HEAR ME HOWL" So this guy's insane. Boldir watched as Lorgar howled and charged straight into the soldiers. They released their arrow volley, six of them found their mark. Lorgar felt the four arrows bury themselves in different parts of his body, Heheheheh ouch... Lorgar's vision began too fade, and soon he was out... But to the soldiers, Lorgar was still moving, and laughing uncontrollably... "KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL," He reached the first soldier, and ripped off his arm before the soldier could do anything, with his bare hands. The second soldier, before he could draw his axe, was pinned too the ground and his throat torn out by Lorgar's teeth. Boldir stood in the doorway, shocked by what he was seeing. "What in Oblivion? Shoot him!" But it was too late. Lorgar was in the middle of the fray and the archers couldn't get a shot off. Boldir himself walked down the stairs, axe raised. "Everyone back up!" Boldir walked towards the monster, who was in the middle of ripping out a soldier's throat with his teeth. Is this even the man I just spoke with? Boldir yelled out, "Lorgar! I don't want to have to kill you! Stand down!" Hearing his name being called, Lorgar let out a cry of pain. He regained conscious, only too taste blood and too awaken seeing a dead soldiers ripped throat... "ARGGGHHHH" Lorgar threw himself on the ground and started holding himself, screaming in a mixture of anger and sorrow, yelling to Boldir "Captain...you...have...end me...I cant control...myself...much longer...use arrows..." Lorgar blacked out again. But to the soldiers, Lorgar started laughing again. He got back into his feral crouched position, and turned too face the incoming foe... "BLOOD, NEED BLOOD...YES CUT CUT CUT CUT... Boldir was startled. Had he heard right? It sounded as if Lorgran wanted to be killed. Boldir stopped in his tracks. He looked and saw dozens of his men surrounding the scene, most carrying bows. My men are out of his range. There's no need to risk more lives. "Archers, ready your arrows!" Boldir watched the pitiful beast before him rise to a wolf-like crouch and turn to face him. "Loose!" Thirteen arrows reached their mark...the beast was felled, and it hit the ground hard... but, to everyone's surprise, Lorgar wasn't dead. He was covered from head to toe in blood and arrows, yet still breathed shallowly. Despite being completely and utterly terrified, one of the soldiers went over to the downed imperial soldier and checked his pulse, before yelling, "Sir, he still has a pulse but he's hurt real bad, what do we do? Boldir felt like he was in a dream. What do we do? Can he even die? Can we hold something like this? He was used to being the soldier checking for pulses, not the guy making the decisions. "Sir?" "Drag him to the prison. He's more valuable to us alive." Good way to delay the situation for now. And there will be some good questions for when he wakes up. Boldir personally escorted the guards as they dragged Lorgar to the prison as they shackled him and locked him behind the bars. Maybe he'll be normal again when he awakens. "What now sir?" Boldir turned to the soldier. "Now we burry our dead."

Boldir Mid-afternoon Falkreath, outside the Longhouse What am I getting myself into? thought Boldir as he stood on the steps to the Longhouse, watching a crowd of soldiers and city guardsmen amass in front of him. Fighting Imperials and barking at Jarls is one thing. But speeches? How the hell do people like the Captain and Ulfric do this? Boldir's heart thudded in his chest. He could feel sweat forming on his palms. He watched as the crowd grew. They were all talking among themselves. I have to do this. Boldir took a deep breath. "Attention!" Nobody heard him. They were all too into their various conversations. Boldir grimaced. Now he wasn't so much scared as pissed. He yelled: "Listen up, you useless Milk Drinkers!" At that the crowd shut up immediately. He now had their full attention. "Do I look like an Imperial to you?!?" The crowd stared. Unsure if they should answer. "I asked you a damn question!" "No!" The crowd responded quickly in almost perfect unison. "Then why in the name of Oblivion am I standing in front of a crowd of lazy cowards?! I thought that's what Imperial Captains did? Can you prove to me that you're true Stormcloaks?!?" "Yes!" The crowd hollered. Most unsure of who this man even was. "Yes what?" "Yes Sir!" They roared. Whoever he was, he was clearly in charge. Boldir was beginning to enjoy himself. This isn't too hard. But it's time for business. "Good. Now I want all of you to follow up on this. Now, if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm in charge. You will answer to me and only me. Jarl Dengeir is taking a break and you will not disturb him with questions. Anything requiring the attention of the Jarl will be brought to me instead. Likewise, any orders usually requiring a Jarl will come from me. You can address me as Boldir. If anyone has a problem with this, they can march up to Solitude and take it up with High King Ulfric!" At the mention of Ulfric's name, the crowd grew even sterner than before. Angering a CO is one thing. Angering a man sent by Ulfric would be a whole other. "In the twenty minutes I've spent here, I've seen signs of incompetence. Your gate guards were half asleep when I arrived. Your patrols may as well not have even been there. The soldiers we recently sent to garrison this town were nowhere to be seen... It's almost like this is a vacation spot! It isn't! If you haven't figured it out yet, we are at war! Elite Imperial soldiers stalk the woods as I speak. They are on your doorstep! Effective immediately, the walls are to be occupied by five archers at any given time, and the soldiers that were sent here from Fort Neugrad are now on patrol duty. The remaining city guardsmen will assist. A standing force will be prepared for invasion at any time. You are the sons and daughters of Skyrim! It's time to act like it! "Yeaaah" "Hoorah!" Boldir smiled. That went well. "Now get to work!"

Reval, Baldur, Witchie Reval hurried as fast as he could back to the Fort. "Damn cat! When I'm done with him, he would be strong enough to cough up a hairball," said Reval, his face scowling as dirt and water splashed on his face. As the Fort was sighted, Reval began yelling," To anyone still in the Fort, this is Reval, fellow Stormcloak with important news for the captain!" Reval managed to get into the courtyard and, wiping away the muck on his face, ran to the prison, all the while yelling "Captain, there is no camp there!" Baldur looked back to see that his Lieutenant had burst into the prison room. This was the last thing that he wanted, but luckily he had not heard the conversation he was having. Baldur told the Khajiit he would be back later, and to think about what Baldur had just said. Then he excused himself and took Reval into the hallway to discuss recent occurrences. "I already figured the cat was lying. But I am glad that all the precautions I had you go through were unnecessary. Good work. Now....I need you to go to Falkreath with Boldir. He's a friend of mine who's been here the whole time right under my nose. He's one of the Necro Nords. He will be in charge there. While you were gone, my second murdered a civilian after he got some information from him because he thought he was a Thalmor agent, and then tried using magic on me after I let my anger get the better of me and assaulted him. I almost had to kill him. So I sent Boldir instead of Witchie, who is no longer second in command. Boldir is my new second. I sent Witchie on a mission to find some Thalmor wizard to..." Baldur stopped in the middle of the conversation when he heard cheering coming from the courtyard. Perplexed as to what in the hell the men could be up to, Baldur told Reval to follow him and they'd continue the conversation shortly. As Baldur made his way to the courtyard, he saw Witchie in the distance. "Lieutenant, when did you get back? That was awfully fast. What did you find...." All Baldur had to see was golden armor before he drew his axes out of instinct. But then he noticed the Thalmor soldier was preoccupied at the moment and then he finally realized what Witchie was up to. "So, I guess the immaculate Witchie managed to catch himself a Thalmor agent," Reval said. "Guess we get to have some more interrogation fun. Hopefully it will go better than it did with the furball." From what Baldur could tell, Witchie was tormenting the poor bastard with what he would guess was ants or something in his armor judging by how he was twitching about all over the place. At first he thought it was sick and cruel, pretty much the same as torture with a splash of humiliation, but then he remembered what those yellow bastards did to his countrymen...Baldur at that point didn't give a skeever's hide what happened to that soldier. Let them have their fun.

Boldir Iron-Brow Mid-Afternoon Falkreath Boldir could hear Falkreath before he could see it. The sounds of the mill churning and several conversations going on weren't stopped by the fog as easily as his vision was. He road past a bored looking pair of guards leaning on the wall at the city entrance. They won't be prepared if there is an attack. Thought Boldir. I'll have to rectify that soon. Boldir continued past them into the city proper. If it could actually be called a city. Boldir had been in Falkreath twice by now, and he knew it was more graveyard than city. He had decided that his first order of business would be to speak with the Jarl. He dismounted outside of the Longhouse and entered the building. Here goes nothing. As soon as Boldir entered the Longhouse, the first thing he noticed was the emptiness. There was one woman sitting on a bench to the right of the door, and a large man in Stormcloak officer armor standing beside the throne at the back of the room, and of course there was Jarl Dengeir himself, seated in his throne below a pair of Falkreath's stag-head banners. The Jarl was arguing with the Stormcloak about something that Boldir couldn't quite make out. The two stopped arguing as Boldir approached the Jarl's throne. The Stormcloak saluted Boldir, aware of what his armor symbolized. The Jarl however, didn't seem as impressed. "What business do you have here soldier?" Asked Dengeir. "I come under the authority of Captain Baldur Red-Snow, who is the acting voice of High King Ulfric in Falkreath Hold." "Finally! There have been reports of Imperial movement in the forests. It's about time Ulfric sent someone here to deal with the situation! Why, already I've had to send three men to the prisons who refuse to withhold information on the matter." Boldir was surprised. "You are holding people who know of these Imperials?" The Stormcloak officer cut in. "Sir, you should know that there is no real evidence against these men. Only rumors." "Rumors my ass!" Dengeir retorted. "These men are known to have sympathized with the Imperials during the war! And one even has sent letters south by courier! When asked about the letters, all he's said is that it's "a family matter." All three have managed to withhold information under torture! Only a seasoned Legion spy would be capable of holding out under such circumstances!" "How do you know they have any information to give?" He exclaimed, raising his voice a little louder than one probably should with a Jarl. "Haven't you been listening? They are known to have had Legion affiliations! This is no secret. It's a fact!" Boldir had heard enough. He had planned to take it easy on the Jarl, but he now realized that he'd have to get straight to business. "Jarl Dengeir, by the power given to me, I hereby declare martial law in the hold of Falkreath until the Imperial threat in the area has been taken care of. Your positions as Jarl shall remain, but your authority now falls to Baldur Red-Snow, and by extension, me, at least until his arrival, which will be soon." Both the Jarl and the Stormcloak Officer were obviously surprised. "I beg your pardon?" Exclaimed Jarl Dengeir. "By what authority do you have the right to deny my own?" "By the authority of Captain Baldur, who recieves his orders directly from High King Ulfric. Your position will remain, and you will resume your duties as soon as stability has been returned to the region. You may of course remain in your quarters here in the hall." The Jarl grumbled. "Fine! But you better do your job here! And don't expect the citizens to be happy with your decisions! But that's not my problem anymore!" And with that, the Jarl got off his throne, and stormed into his quarters. "That went well." The officer said, chuckling. "What is your name soldier?" "I am Thorygg Sun-Killer, at your service sir!" "Thorygg, I want you to gather all the local guardsmen and posted soldiers in front of the longhouse." "Yes sir!" Thorygg hurried out the door, taking the woman with him. Presumably to help. That wasn't so bad. Boldir thought about this for a minute before heading for the door himself. Time to prepare a speech

Witch-king (aka Witchie) Fort Neugrad Noon Not the first time Witchie had been threatened with death in this war before. But they had never tried to carry out these threats as he had proven himself too valuable. But now he had to clean up the dunmer's corpse. He went back to the fort and looked around till he found an urn, then went back to the dunmer's corpse and started scorching. It was just a waste. Giving the dunmer a ceremonial burial wouldn't help his soul, not after what Witchie had done to him. But after a few minutes of scorching all that was left of the corpse was ash. He scooped up the ash with magic and put it in the urn. Then went to the captain's quarters and put the urn on his table along with the book next to it. He went out back to the fort courtyard and back to the wagon. He placed a recall rune on the ground and scorched into the wagon's side the message: "Don't stand on the rune!" Last thing I need is some idiot standing on the rune when I teleport back. And with that he set off towards Falkreath. It took a few hours to reach the crossroad; the road north lead to Falkreath, the road west would lead south of Falkreath and eventually to Hammerfell and then there was the small dirt road south leading to Peak's Shade Tower. The tower was a ruin filled with overgrown grass. He went up towards the tower entrance. He could feel he wasn't alone. "Blackmail!" he yelled. He heard footsteps from his left side. He turned around and saw three Thalmor grunts, wearing full elven armor, approach him. The one in the middle was a male with a nose almost as pointy as his ears, the one on the right was also a male with a quite average look and the last one on the left was a female with an extremely pointy jaw, even for an elf, and a scar running across the nose. He could feel the hatred build up inside him as he saw the elves, but he had to wait for the right moment. "So you're the message boy?" the one in the middle asks. He stood there silent, waiting for them to get closer. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" The one in the middle walks up to him with the other two on both of his sides right behind him. Now the fun begins. He forms his right hand into a fist and uppercuts the Thalmor right in front of him in the jaw. The sound of bone breaking came and the Thalmor fell backwards to the ground. The other Thalmors barely had time to react as he sent two ice spikes, combines with soul trap, towards their faces. The one on the right of him managed to dodge but the other one got hit. The ice spike pierced her right eye and Witchie started to feast on her soul. The surviving Thalmor drew his elven sword and started to shoot flames at Witchie. They were easily blocked. He drew his own stalhrim sword and charged the elf. They dueled a bit with swords clashing before Witchie parried a sword blow from the right and at the same time grasped the Thalmor by the throat with his left hand, sending an ice spike through it and capturing his soul has he took his last breaths. The one that he had punched started to moan on the ground. Witchie walked up to the man so he stood right above him, he grabbed the Thalmor at the neck of his cuirass, raising him up a bit from the ground. "Where were you to deliver the book to? And who was it to be delivered to?" Witchie said with a voice so low that it was little more than a whisper. The grunt coughed up some blood and mumbled something. The jaw was broken. Witchie started to cast a restoration spell at the Thalmor. Now that the Thalmor didn't look that broken up, he shook him and yelled: "Answer me!" "Who are you? What are you?" the Thalmor started to look a bit scared. But Witchie just shook him again. "I'm the one that asks the quistions." "I won't tell you and I would sooner die than tell you." the Thalmor replied with cocky tone. "That can be arranged. And I promise you that you're afterlife will not be pleasant." And with that he started to summon small creatures from the realm of Namira. These little things resembled all kinds of insects and creeps, but they were a lot more disgusting and freakish. They crawled from Witchie's grasp and into the armor of the Thalmor that started to scream and twitch. But he couldn't get anywhere as he was locked in place by Witchie's grip. "I'll talk! I'll talk! Just get these things off me!" "Answers first." "The book was to be delivered to Grand Overseer Tyrian. It was to be delivered through teleportation. I have a piece of cloth engraved with the teleportation runes and a scroll for the spell to activate it in my pocket." Witchie dismissed the creeps back to oblivion. And checked the agent's pocket with his free hand. He was telling the truth, in his pocket lied a cloth made of silk engraved with runes and a scroll. Witchie then used the recall spell and teleported both of them back to the fort. He dragged the Thalmor to the middle of the courtyard. The soldiers stopped with whatever they were doing to watch. They all looked suprised on how he came to be dragging on a Thalmor grunt through the fort. "Anyone want to see this 'mighty' Thalmor dance?" Witchie yelled to the soldiers. He got a loud cheering "Yeah!" back at him. He gagged the Thalmor with some illusion magic so his screaming wouldn't be heard and then summoned the creeps again that unnoticeably crawled into the elf's armor. He then released his grip of the Thalmor's armor and the elf started to jump around, trying to shake the creeps off.

Captain Baldur Red-Snow, Do'jhul Fort Neugrad Prison Afternoon He decided that it was time to go speak to the khajiit again. He figured that the cat had to be lying about the location of the camp. Werewolf or no werewolf, a seasoned warrior like himself never bends to a torture threat like that. Baldur wanted to believe he could, but it seems that Baldur was going to have to sacrifice his honor afterall. Time would tell. If Reval has even a scratch on him, I'm gonna take it out on Do'jhul's furry ass for every one, and then some. Torture he realized was easier to go through when one was angry. He thought he was before because of the men he lost, but Baldur respected the cat as a warrior, and saw him as a worthy opponent. He did not wish to injure someone he wanted to fight when they were helpless. It was beyond cowardly, but Baldur finally realized that he can't put his personal honor above his men and his country. The area around the prison was especially empty and silent, since Baldur didn't want the cat to know that the fort was still well fortified with men, although Baldur thinks the cat may have seen through his lie. He couldn't be sure. Maybe it was simple paranoia, but he figured you never know with those khajiit. They always seem like they know more than what they let you know about. Baldur speculated that was a contributing factor to why people think they're all sneaks and thieves. Baldur approached two Necro Nords guarding the door. They were both wielding silver great swords as per his orders. Baldur noticed the one on his left was holding the one Baldur had from earlier, because it still had the scorch mark at the tip. Baldur had the soldier relinquish the weapon to him, and he polished the tip before he entered the prison room. He placed the sword against a table as he approached the khajiit's cell once again. "Hello again Do'jhul. I thought I'd stop by for a chat. Keep you company and all that." Do'jhul opened his eyes, but stayed in his meditation position. Do'jhul flashed his fangs in a smile and replied, "Good to see you too, Baldur. So how are things around the Skyrim?" Baldur pondered on how he would go about addressing the cat. He knew the cat was smart, and that trickery likely would fail, but he had nothing to lose so he went for it anyway. "Pretty good, actually. I have word that my men captured the imperials at the location you gave me, and that they surrendered without a fight. Was much quicker than I thought. Reval says they'll be taking them to Windhelm soon to be held as a bargaining chip against the Empire. So, I can let you leave now. You'll be released in the morning." Baldur looked to the Khajiit to see how he reacted to his lie. If he smirked, it may be a sign that he knew Baldur was lying, and he lied about the location to the camp. Baldur didn't really expect anything from him, but it was worth a shot. "So, where would you like to be released?" Do'jhul thought for a second. Is he really telling the truth? Do'jhul then closed his eyes and meditated for a few seconds, and started to sense hesitant, and nervous emotions coming from the Stormcloak Captain. I knew it; he is lying. Opening his eyes once more, Do'jhul set his stern gaze on the Captain. He then smiled and said, "You know, you almost had me there for a second, Baldur. I thought you were an honorable Nord. One who wouldn't stain his honor by lying to a fellow warrior. Huh, I guess I was wrong." Getting up from his meditating position, Do'jhul looked down at the Captain with a serious gaze and asked, "What is the real reason you came to me, little cub?" Baldur was in no mood to have idle chatter with the cat, especially since he may have caused him to put Reval in unnecessary danger. But he stayed calm as usual, not revealing anything in his emotions, and played the cat's game. "Ha ha, calm down. I had to try. Besides, deception of the enemy is the name of the game, as I'm sure you know. Nords value honor, but that doesn't mean we all act like priests of Mara. So....why don't you tell me what's really at that location you gave me. I'm sure you realize I'm not an idiot, same as how I realized you aren't one. You know I wouldn't send my whole entire army to the location an enemy gave me with zero force being applied. Especially from one such as yourself. You know I would have sent a scout like any army would, so you and I know we're back to square one. My scout isn't due to return for a few hours, maybe not til tomorrow, but I can tell what he'll already say. There's no one there, or they were ambushed. Either way, you and I are as I said back to square one. So, are you gonna tell me where the camp really is or not? Because if the answer is no, then I have a proposition for you..." Do'jhul kept looking down at the Captain and said, "Before I give you my answer, what is the proposition if I say no? Please, indulge me", still looking at the Captain. "Well if you say no, nothing happens. You rot in here, I go about my business trying to find your Legate and his pals, and no one gains anything. But if you accept my proposition, you have a chance to walk free without giving me any info, and I have a chance to learn the info I need to deal the imperials a blow. But either way, yu walk away. Are you interested?" Do'jhul thought for a moment and said, "Yes I am. So, state your proposition." Baldur couldn't help but smile at this. Maybe he'd get his chance to fight this Khajiit afterall, and preserve his honor. His heart began to pound with excitement and anticipation. Now all he could do was hope the Khajiit really had the heart of a nord as he said. If he did, he wouldn't be able to resist his offer. Baldur began grinning and put his face to the cage and looked up at the khajiit. "I as you know overheard your conversation with Witchie. In that conversation you said that there was only one thing that could ever cut you, and it was that werewolf. You seemed to have some respect for the thing as it was a worthy opponent, am I right?" Baldur did not wait for an answer, as he was too excited and continued with his dialogue, "So my proposition is this. I let you out of this cage. You and I fight. You try and cut me and I try to cut you. If I win, you tell me what I need to know. Everything. If you win, you take me hostage and I willingly go to your camp as your prisoner. You can even blindfold me." Baldur said that last part in a hushed tone, as he did not want to alert his men standing outside of the door. "To show you I'm serious, I'll let you in on a secret. You see that door right there on the other side of the room? That door leads to a part of the fort that is underground. That area is linked to the lake, and you can swim through a door there undetected to the outside of the fort. You win, you can leave through there with me. I win, you leave in the middle of the night after I charge that camp. Still interested, or are you afraid to lose?"

Boldir Fort Neugrad Afternoon Boldir tied his bags to the saddle of a horse. He thought about his promotion. And if he was fitting for the new role. Guess we'll see. He did one last check to make sure all of his needed belongings were packed before mounting his horse and riding out the front gate. "I need someone to represent my authority to the Jarl of Falkreath". Boldir remembered this order as his horse trotted into the misty forest. I suppose that means the Jarl answers to me now. He thought about Falkreath ahead, and how he'd have to deal with annoyances like the Jarl and civilians. At least I'm not likely to lose anybody in a quiet town like Falkreath. This assignment is gonna be an easy one. Too bad. Easy assignments are always the most boring. Boldir rode on silently. Growing confident that he could handle his new position.

Reval The men were preparing for their mission. As the horses were being saddled and the men were putting on their boots, Reval crept behind two Necro Nords and whispered, "You two. You seem like capable warriors. The captain ordered me to go on a special reconassaince mission. I could use your help with that." The two Necro Nords agreed. As soon as most of the soldiers left for the area, Reval and the Necro Nords took some of the Imperial armor from the fallen Legionaires, and put it on. "Never thought I would willingly wear an Imperial outfit," he chuckled. The Necro Nords put on their uniforms as well, and the trio left with three horses after the coast was clear. A fog began to surround the area after the trio left. "Damn fog, now I can't see anything. At least this can work to our advantage as well," said Reval, who galloped on his horse. Upon reaching a certain distance, Reval and the Necro Nords dismounted the horse and went to scout the area. The scouting at first turned up nothing, but then Reval heard some rustling. "Everyone, hide!" The trio quickly hid themselves in the foilage, protecting themselves from view. Reval was paying attention to what was making the noise, but he could barely make an accurate prediction of what it was. Reval was busy trying to find the source of the noise. Upon looking for a while, Reval discovered that it was a caravan full of weapons driven by Imperials. "That is a large shipment of weapons. We could attack it, or we could follow it and find out where the camp is," said Reval to the two Necro Nords. They agreed and camoflauged themselves into the wilderness while trailing the caravan. Reval had hoped that the caravan would lead them to the camp. Reval believed that the Imperials were just about to be destroyed when their camp's location was revealed. Reval stealthily hid in the trees with the two Necro Nords as they trio followed the caravan. The journey lasted a while, testing their skills at remaining hidden as the caravan continued to its destination. "By Azura, this fog as saved us more times than I can count. I hope that it lasts for our ambush." The Necro Nords laughed a little with Reval and continued their pursuit. The chase ended when the caravan arrived at a bunch of tents. The two descended from the trees and followed Reval. The trio surveyed the area, and captured the Imperial soldiers. However, upon closer inspection, Reval noticed that they didn't show any of the signs of Imperial training. "Wait a minute, where did you get this armor," asked Reval. One soldier cried, "Please don't kill us! We just found this armor on some dead soldiers. We didn't think it would matter to anyone!" Reval was shocked. He yelled to the two Necro Nords, "Blast, we've been had! There is nothing even remotely Imperial here! Just a bunch of scavengers and their campsite! We need to return to the Fort immediately!" Reval and the two Necro Nords mounted some nearby horses, saying "We're confiscating these horsed for our time wasted" and road as fast as possible to the Fort.

Boldir Iron-Brow, Baldur Red-Snow, Witch-King Fort Neugrad Boldir grumbled as he reached for a chair to sit on to finish his meal. Who does that Witch King think he is? Barging in and ordering us out like that? Boldir didn't trust that guy. Anybody who relies on illusions and hides his face is unfit to lead a group of true warriors. Certainly not the Necros. Baldur is smart. He must have his reasons to keep this guy in authority. He sat down, only to stand right back greet the Captain as he stormed past Bodir after the witch. That's about right. Thought Boldir. How many times have I served with Baldur? I don't think he's even realized I'm here. As he sat back down, Boldir decided that a chat could wait. He was hungry, and had already missed breakfast. For the third time, he went to his meal, only to be interrupted by the sounds of a grunt and a spell being cast. Boldir quickly shoved aside his plate, put on his helmet, and ran out the door after them. He followed the sound to find Baldur being lowered to the ground by the witch. "Is everything okay over here?" He asked, positioning himself to pounce on the witch if called to. "You can sheathe your weapon, soldier. The situation is handled. Our fort mage here has just recently been demoted from second command. He still holds his rank, but he won't be ordering anyone around unless I and Reval were to die. Inform the other men of this when you get the chance." Baldur looked to the man, thinking that he reminded him of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who. The man was wearing a helmet that covered his face, so Baldur couldn't tell from looking at him. "Witchie, stay put while I talk to this man. We need to discuss this cart and your new duties." Witchie put on the illusion again and turned his back on the captain to look what's inside the hidden storage. He didn't even bother with the man who ran up to them. What he found was a book, covered with runes that marked the seals. The seals counted five in total. The magic was foreign, but he recognized it enough to see that it was based on elven magic, at least the elven magic he remembers. This was most likely what the old elven magic had evolved to. Must be Thalmor magic. And the book must be damn important. Witchie was somewhat well versed in the old elven magic. At least enough to notice how some of this magic worked. But opening it would be damned near impossible, unless he wanted to spend the next age trying to figure it out. He could try and force the seals but that would probably destroy the book. He decided to give a try and started to focus. The seals was tough and the started to glow more intense and book was getting hotter. He stopped, continuing would damage the book and whatever was inside. Best way now was to either learn elven magic, again, or find an elven mage. I suddenly got one more reason to head to the tower. Baldur stepped away from the cart while Witchie proceeded with his investigation, and went to speak to the man in front of him. "You sound familiar... Do I know you from somewhere?" Boldir chuckled and removed his helmet. "You should, friend." Baldur had a confused expression on his face when he heard the soldier's response, but he soon understood what he meant by his words. He couldn't believe his eyes. All this time, and his comrade in arms was serving right under his nose. "Boldir? What the hell are you doing here? Last time I saw you was in Solitude! How have you been, friend?" "I've been well, brother! I've tried to get a chance to speak with you, but between you playing dead and interrogating that Khajiit, it's been tough to gain an audience. The new armor suits you by the way. Maybe that'll deflect arrows better than what you had before. Speaking of, how's that wound healing?" "Ah it's nothing. A little sore, but mostly numb. My right arm hasn't gained all it's strength back though. First day on the job here, and I almost took a dirt nap, but enough about me. You've stumbled in at the perfect time, as I'm now in need of a new second in command. What do you think?" "I'd be honored, sir. What would you have me do?" "You don't need to call me sir. You can call me Baldur, Mr. Iron-Brow! I need someone to represent my authority to the Jarl of Falkreath. As you know, I already sent men there to protect the civilians, and patrol the roads. I need you to oversee their activities and lead the men in case of an attack, which is why I need a second in command to be there. You are hereby promoted to Lieutenant. Technically you and Reval still keep your original rank until Ulfric or someone else high up agrees to my recommendation, but the responsibilities I'm giving you go along with rank, so you'll be acknowledged accordingly. Do you accept?" "Yes s- Baldur, of course. You know, things around we here were starting to get dull until you showed up. Falkreath will be dull by comparrison. I assume I'm to go immediately?" "Indeed. Take what you need, and head there as soon as you can. Sorry we didn't get more time to speak, but I'll be coming to Falkreath myself soon, once this business with the cat is done. I'll see you soon my friend." "Be careful with that guy. The way he surrendered yesterday, I don't like it. Something just doesn't add up." "He better hope Reval returns with good news, or I'm gonna make him wish he was never born. Anyway, good luck friend. I'll see you soon. If anything goes wrong, send a messenger. We're not very far, so I'll get there pretty soon. Dismissed." Baldur turned back to the witch. "Now, Witchie. Tell me what you discovered." Witchie showed the book to the captain so he could see the runes clearly. "A book. You can't open it without extended knowledge in elven magic. So unless you want me to dress up like an high elf and travel to Summerset Isles and learn it, I would suggest we capture a Thalmor mage. I also know where the driver was supposed to meet the Thalmor agent. As you've now sent that man to Falkreath I guess you're going to send me to meet the agent." Seems like being demoted was a good thing after all. Instead of being stuck in a town, I'm to hunt elves. Baldur was quite wary of sending Witchie on a mission on his own after he had just broken his trust, but with Boldir going to Falkreath, and Reval on a scouting mission, the best possible option besides himself, who of course has to stay in case the khajiit tries to escape, was Witchie. At least this way if he kills someone, it'll be an actual enemy combatant. "I ought to lock your ass in with that khajiit, and throw away the key, but sadly I don't have any more options. Anyway, this time it will be an actual Thalmor, so if you kill him, no harm done. But before you leave, I want you to personally go cremate that mer you killed, and take care of the mess. Put his ashes in an urn, and I'll give it to one of our dunmer companions to have it put wherever is best fitting according to their custom. He may have been a Thalmor agent, he may not have been. Delivering services extend to everyone. You may have killed an innocent man. Or you may not have. Either way, don't do it again. I find out, and my axe will be hanging from where your face should be." With that, Baldur walked out and dismissed the Witch King, leaving him to his orders.

Witch-king (aka Witchie) Fort Neugrad Morning Witchie rose up from the chair leaving the crystal on it, still draining the khajiit on magicka. Left the prison and took the axe with him. Carrying the axe was quite a chore though. So he went back to the barracks and put it up against the wall besides the chair he had slept in. Then he remembered; the magical seals. The captain must have forgotten. Best to get it over with before I leave. He went to the captain's quarters. "Do you want me to open the seals before I leave?" Baldur was surprised to see Witchie so soon after his order to go to Falkreath. He didn't really take to the men in his fort, so he thought he wouldn't waste time to leave, especially when he was put in charge. "I'm surprised to still see you here, Lieutenant. What exactly are you talking about? What seals?" "The magical seals in the carriage. Wasn't the items protected by them for you?" Witchie got a gnawing feeling that something wasn't right. "Lieutenant, I know I've got a lot on my mind right now, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember something about magical wards. Stormcloaks aren't known for dealing with magic. Whatever you're talking about has nothing to do with me. Show me what you're talking about." Baldur stood up, and signaled Witchie to lead him out the door. "Let's make this quick. You need to make your way to Falkreath with the rest of the men. They need a leader." Witchie walked to the wagon in the fort. If it wasn't for the captain then it must be for someone outside the fort. His suspicion was right. The presence of the magical seals could still be felt by the wagon. But the wagon itself was empty. The items must be hidden either with magic or inside the wagon. Before the captain could ask why they were standing by an empty wagon Witchie said: "They're hidden and I bet the driver knows where." And walked away back into the fort before the captain say a word again. The dunmer driver was sitting in the dining hall, eating breakfast. Though it was rather late and there were only a few soldiers there as well. "Men. Leave!" he shouted. The men rose up from the table and started to make their way from there. They weren't happy with being having their meal interrupted though. The dunmer must have thought was supposed to leve as well as he was starting to walk out the room. Witchie walked up the dunemr, grabbed his tunic and pulled him back. "Not you." "What do you want with me?" the dunmer asked, both suprised and a bit scared. "Who was you supposed to deliver to next?" pulling the dunmer closer so he could look into his eyes. The dunmer was now getting scared. "I'm not supposed to deliver to anyone. The wagon is empty. What would I be able to deliver with an empty wagon?" Now the fun begins. He punched the dunmer right in the guts with his right hand, while keeping the dunmer in place with the left holding the tunic. The dunmer moaned as the fist hit him and tried to bend over from the pain but wasn't able to, as he was still being held up by an iron grip. "Witchie, wait up!" Baldur was struggling to keep pace with his lieutenant after he took off from the empty wagon. Whatever this was about, Baldur did not like being left in the dark. Some disgruntled soldiers passed him by, greeting him as they did, and he overheard one of them say "What an ass, who does that Witch guy think he is anyway?" Baldur chuckled, but an agonizing cry whiped the smile off his face. He ran towards the direction of the dining room. Witchie said to the dunmer, "There're items sealed with magic hidden in your wagon. How are they hidden and who are they to be delivered to?" "I don't know what you're talking about." the dunmer squeezed out with the little voice he could muster, still shaken by the punch. Wicthie grabbed his left shoulder. The dunmer started to scream as an ice spike was slowly seeking it's way deeper into the bones and flesh of his shoulder. The torment went on till the ice spike was sticking out on the other side. "I'll talk! I'll talk!" screamed the dunmer, trying to hold back the tears. "Underneath the wagon is a small switch. It will open the side, revealing the bouble bottoms of the wagon. It was to be delivered to a Thalmor agent here in Falkreath Hold." "Where exactly was you to deliver the items to?" "I was to deliver them to a tower east of Falkreath. Peak's Shade Tower. At the tower I was to shout 'Blackmail' and then the Thalmor agent was to appear and take the items. That is all I know. I swear." Witchie looked into the dunmer's eyes. He was too scared to lie. But the elf had now served his purpose in life. He formed a dagger made of ice in his right hand and stabbed the elf in the guts. While the dunmer's life was fading, a spell to capture his was soul was put on him. As souls could be used to enhance items, they could be used to enhance oneself. If one knew the right spells. Witchie felt as the dunmer died in his grasp and his soul being consumed. The consumption of the soul made him feel younger and slightly more powerful. The dunmer's soul was probably in the Soul Cairn by now. He dropped the lifeless body to the floor and walked out, back to the captain. "The items were to be deliverd to a Thalmor agent." he said as he approached the captain. And then he started to search for the switch underneath the wagon. Baldur arrived in time to see a dead elf on the floor. After he just avoided torture with the Khajiit, Baldur was red hot pissed at what had just happened. He didn't have full control of himself when he sent a right hook in the direction of Witchie where his face would normally be. Witchie more than likely wouldn't expect this action from the Captain who normally is cool headed and not prone to outbursts of anger. Witchie had just found and activated the switch just to look up and find a fist flying towards his face. He had no time to duck. As the fist hit his face he instinctively raised his right hand and grasped the captain by the throat, raising him into the air with the help of a little magic. But he quickly realized that this was not something he should do. He dropped the captain so he landed on his feet. Baldur knew full well that Witchie may use magic on him, and he allowed it. If he tried assaulting him, Baldur would have an excuse to kill him where he stands. As Baldur was lifted off the ground, he put his hand on one of his war axes in preparation to throw it at his skull. Witchie ended up putting the Captain down before things escalated, to Baldur's disappointment. Baldur pulled out his axe to show the Witch he wasn't helpless. "No, you don't get to choose who lives and dies. He was a non-combatant. We could have learned more info from him if you didn't kill him. If you weren't so quick to action, you would have realized this. To think, I distrusted elves and it's a Nord under my command that I have to keep an eye on! You are no longer in second command of this fort. You are hereby demoted. And if you ever use magic on me again, I WILL kill you. Count on it." "You can try. But I will have my vengeance on the elves sooner or later."

Rebec Red-Eye Camp Rommulas The ship captain watches after Tyrian a moment, then sits up carefully. She finds that she feels better than she had since first waking. “Ooh, Grand Overseer." She snorts derisively. One of the other wounded is also awake, staring at her. “What’s the matter with you?" she snaps at him. "Don’t you know the damn elves would lie about their own mothers? If they have mothers." She’s still muttering as she steps through the tent flap. Staring at the podium, the sailor considers what she is doing. This is a long road with no good end. Obey the Thalmor once, and you could find yourself as craven as these imperials. But there was no use throwing her life away just yet. Many times Rebec had stared down death on the sea, and that didn’t frighten her. But if she could help it, she would not die so far from her ship and crew. She walks over to the stand, eyes scanning the camp and its environs for any opportunity. Or for her axes, which would be just as good. Tyrian began to become annoyed at the woman's belligerent nature, but rather than do something about it he simply lit his pipe. "Alright listen here, I'd like to inform you of one thing, you're now in the company of my men, who I'm simply going to let interrogate you, perhaps then you'll understand why not giving me what I want is a bad idea." He turned to his men "You've got three restrictions, no rape, no mutilation, and no killing." He walked away to obtain his staff, his men began to unleash volleys of lightning "State your name, rank, position, and actions in the past five days, any and all details that are deemed incorrect by the Overseer will result in further punishment, do we make ourselves abundantly clear?" The Overseer smiled, as his hood went back over his face, blocking out all sound as he went to retrieve his prized staff. His boots kicked up dirt in both orderly and chaotic movements. Finally the soldier handed him his staff "Thank you soldier." Didn't I tell Lorgar to polish it? No matter. He looked around for the Legate "Excuse me, could someone please notify the Legate that he and I need to speak? Thank you." He then left to return to the prisoner at the Podium. * "Legate Sir, the high overseer wishes to speak to you..." Lorgar was currently reading some charts of Falkreath, he simply nodded at the soldier, and excused him with the wave of his hand, With all these interruptions, i'll never get any work done, Finally, he headed to the high overseers position, when he finally got to the hood-covered high-overseer, Lorgar spoke in a slightly annoyed tone, "Tyrian, you wanted too see me?" * Rebec had thought the Thalmor out of earshot for her comment, and as she's given over to the regulars in his command recognizes that she is going to end up like so many Nords she had heard about. She's not going down quietly. An imperial regular sitting at the breakfast fire had put his sword belt aside in order to manage a hot bowl of porridge. Bolting before the Thalmor soldiers have a chance to grab her, Rebec kips the man's porridge into his face, stomps on his instep for good measure, and uses his surprise and momentary blindness to grab and unsheathe his sword. He rises to his feet and flails his arms out to grab her, but that is easily evaded. Rebec doesn't run, however. Instead she pulls the off-balance imperial toward her to serve as shield. Holding the sword point to his neck, she calls out to the others in the camp at the top of her voice. "You call yourself Nords?! You let these Thalmor bastards order you around, polish their boots for them? I suppose you warm their bedrolls at night, too. KILL THEM! You can blame it on the Stormcloaks later. This might be your one chance to do something worthy of Sovngarde, you miserable cowards!" * Tyrian turned to the Imperial Legate "I'd suggest you train your men a bit better, getting jumped like that. Though she is a unique sort, able to wave off the electricity." He drew his staff and spoke to the prisoner with the hostage "Take one more step and I will not hesitate to turn you both into a pile of ash." He turned to the Legate "Get your men to surround her, cut off escape routes." He then speaks to the Prisoner once again "What is it exactly that you want to gain from this? If anything if I wanted to kill you I'd've done so, if I wanted my men to kill you, I'd've told them to, alas you are still breathing... perhaps a surrender here is the proper thing to do? It'd stop you from being cut down, I can guarantee you that." Lorgar was really pissed off...he ignored the high-overseers orders, simply ordering his men to draw there weapons, Fuck this, fuck everything... "What the fuck where your men doing to her Tyrian, did I not tell you to treat her fucking gently!?" He was not only REALLY pissed off at the thalmor overseer, he was pissed off with the stormcloak prisoner, "And YOU!!! Let my man fucking go or i'm going let the high-overseer take you" After venting out some steam, his face softened up a bit, and prepared for the backlash he was going to get from that annoying high elf, "If you let my man go, and drop your weapon, i'll get my men to escort you to my tent, and I wont let them hurt you again..." he signaled for his men to lower there weapons, The sailor turns to look at Lorgnar. “Where have I heard that before?” With disgust she throws the sword down to the ground. She’s losing steam, and obviously outnumbered. She had actually dared to hope some of the imperials were sick enough of the Thalmor for their own reasons, that they might take her up on her taunting suggestion. Then, she sinks to her knees. In the adrenaline Rebec had hardly noticed the shocks of the Thalmor soldiers, weaker as they were than those of a high justiciar, but now her limbs feel like horker blubber. Eyes falling, she says with derision, “Do whatever you want with me. I already told the skirt everything I know. It’s his damned elven pride I wounded, that’s all.” As the prisoner fell to the ground, obviously due to the shock of being shocked, Lorgar ordered his men to fully sheaf there weapons. He slowly approached the unconscious nord, and as he reached her, he gently picked her up in his arms, "Willaims, Brutus, Scippili, follow me to my quarters..." Before the Aldmeri overseer and his soldiers could raise any sort of protest, Lorgar addressed them with, yet again, fury in his voice, "Don't say a word, I trusted you to handle the situation, and yet all you did was cause even more trouble. I let you have your interrogation, so now i'm taking the prisoner back into my custody" He sharply added, "You've already made me break a promise today, don't make me break another..."