Jump to content

Civil War Aftermath

Recommended Posts

Civil War Aftermath

"The civil-war that has plagued the province of Skyrim has been over for six months. It ended with Jarl Stormcloak, now High-king Stormcloak, winning the siege of Soltitude, and smashing General Tullius's forces. Jarl Elsief, now High-Queen Elsief, was soon afterwards convinced to marry High-king Stormcloak. The remaining Jarls that were loyal to the empire were soon afterwards executed under the high-queen's orders, except Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun, whom disappeared from his cell the night before the execution. General Tullius, whom was captured by High-king Stormcloak, also disappeared the same night Jarl Balgruuf. High-king Stormcloak formally ended the empires control over Skyrim three months ago, sighing a declaration of Independence, along with the High-queen and the Jarls. However, imperial resistance stays strong. A few hours before Solitude's fall Tullius ordered all remaining imperial units to flee to the forests and hills, and wage a guerrilla campaign against the Stormcloak army."


Link to comment
Share on other sites

General Marius Imperious (6th legion), Solitude, Noon

“Enough is enough…”

General Marius Imperius has had enough, being treated like [censored] by the locals was bad enough, being called “Milk-drinker” over and over again by mewling brats and old hags was bad enough, but the so-called high king ordering the guards to tell Marius he had to deal with “more important” matters before speaking to the imperial delegation was were Marius drew the line. Ignoring the protests of the guards, Marius slammed the doors to the Blue palace open. Ignoring the swords being raised before him, Marius strode onward towards the throne room. He passed by several scowling servants, very aggressive soldiers, and snotty nobles. Finally he reached the room, before he was stopped by a stormcloak soldier with his sword raised,

“High King Stormcloak ordered you too-“

Marius wasted no time for his response,

“Your king has no authority over me whelp, Get out of my way…”

The soldier, obviously intimidated by Marius, stepped aside and let Marius and his squad threw.

Two large thrones lay at the back of the room, and there sat the High King Stormcloak, and his newly wed, High-queen Elsief. The room was also filled with lots of people of various social standings, obviously gaining an audience with the high king. Soldiers, thanes, huscarls, servants, farmers, merchants, they were all here. Marius walked down the blue-fur carpet, flanked by his escort.

The High King only noticed the imperial delegation when they were half-way down the carpet, and when he did his eyes flashed with anger, and when they were nearly at the two thrones, he raised his voice and spoke,

“Tell me General Marius, are all legionaries so insolent?”

Marius’s face twisted into a snarl,

“I came in good faith, Ulfric-”

Marius was cut off by the High-queen, whose voice and face was seething rage,

“How dare you speak to your betters like that, you will address him as High-king Storm-“

Marius wasn’t going to be talked down by the likes of Elsief, putting particular venom in his voice,

“Was I talking to you, [censored]? I don’t like to associate myself with women who sleep with there husband’s killer…”

That appeared to shut her up, as her face blushed with shame; she turned and smiled at Ulfric, whom placed his hand in hers. Marius was filled with disgust. Marius turned to face Ulfric once again,

“As I was saying, Ulfric Stormcloak”, Marius smiled mockingly, “The emperor ordered me here out of good faith”.

Ulfric snorted,

“So what is Mede’s response? We’ve been waiting for three months for word from your emperor; will he do the right thing and formally acknowledge Skyrim and its people a independent nation by signing the declaration? And giving in to our-”

Marius wasted no time, he drew his imperial short sword and slammed it in front of the high kings throne, once again ignoring the fact that the entire room was drawing there Nordic swords, Marius felt no fear,

Taken back, and obviously surprised the high king searched for words, before he could respond to Marius actions, Marius spoke in his clearest, most disciplined voice.

“Emperor Amanund Morteierre refuses to acknowledge Skyrim as a independent nation. Currently the imperial navy will be mobilizing to blockade Skyrim’s ports. The east empire company has been contacted, and has agreed to close down its office’s in the cities of Solitude and Windhelm, no goods will flow into Skyrim’s ports, or will arrive from Cyrdoili in caravans. Any attempts to break these blockades or any attempts to smuggle in goods from any province in the empire will be met with deadly force. Furthermore, your request for Emperor Mede to order all remaining imperial troops to stand down has been denied, and the opposite has been ordered. All remaining legates have been ordered to engage in guerrilla war. That is all…”

Before turning away from the stunned High-king, High-queen, and the rest of the court, Marius smiled , and said “Oh my mistake, The emperor also asked me to send his good wishes in regards to your recent wedding…” 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hold of Falkreath 
Camp Rommulas 

Do'jhul entered the mess tent and as soon as he did, his stomach began to growl in hunger. Looing over to the Chef's table, Do'jhul saw the venison stew being handed out to the Legionnaires. Walkng over to the table, the cook have Do'jhul an extra big bowl, because of his large size; he was a Cathay-raht after all. Getting his food, Dojhul scanned the rows of tables and tried to find somewhere to sit down and eat. Hopefully with someone he knew. Walking a bit farther, Do'jhul saw saw who he was looing for. 

Legate Logar was sitting with a couple of lower ranking Legionnaires. Walking over to the table, Do'jhul sat down and addressed the Legate. 

"Ah, it's good to see you Logar", taking a spoonful of his soup, Do'jhul continued, "So what are the plans for today?" 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Legate Lorgar Grim-Maw
Camp Rommulas

Legate Lorgar Grim-Maw of the IX cohort greedily devoured his massive bowl of venison stew, he was very large after-all, and being an officer granted him extra helpings,

After finishing the bowl of stew, he screamed at the top of his lungs,

"More, more!!!"

Instead of a legionary getting out of his seat to grant his beloved officer his food, laughter erupted from the assembled legionaries. A confused Lorgar scratched his head,

"What are you dogs laughing about?!"

His face was covered in stew, his beard was covered in stew. Before he could chew out the laughing legionaries with threats of latrine duty he heard,

"Ah it's good to see you lorgar" 

Turning around he saw his second in command, Second lieutenant Do'jhul, and responded with a chuckle and a smile,

"Ah Do'jhul, good to see you too" He glared menacingly at the laughing legionaries before saying, "Someone sensible to eat with"

Do'jhul took a seat, and started digging into his stew.

"So what are the plans for today?"

Lorgar snorted,

"Bah, paper work and more paper work...also some of the men are getting a little nervous, prefect Titus asked me to address them today, need to keep the men's moral up..." 

Taking another bite form his stew, Do'jhul replied with a smile and a nod. Being stationed in Falkreath wasn't as bad as he thought would be. The air in this part of Skyrim was nice and cool, but not too cold. Plus, it's much more forested than the rest of Skyrim also. Taking a large swig of his mead, Do'jhul addressed a younger looking recruit. The man seemed to be an Imperial. 

Do'jhul asked the young man, "What's your name lad?" 

The recruit looked up at Do'jhul in awe of his large frame. "Domicus Varrus, sir. I heard about your exploits during the Civil War. They called you the "Werecat" it suits you." 

Do'jhul chuckled at the young recruit's remark. "Aye that's true. I was mistaken for a werewolf a couple of times by Stormcloaks. It scared the piss out of them", lightly punching Lorgar's shoulder, Do'jhul said, "isn't that right Lorgar?" Do'jhul said with a grin. 

Lorgar waved his hands and smiled mockingly,

"Yes, yes, you've told us the same story about a dozen-

Before he could finish, an armored figure poked his head in the mess-tent. The figure's armor was completely different then the standard issues light imperial armor that most legion forces wore in Skyrim, it was heavy plate-mail, identifying him as a soldier from Cyrdoli. Logar easily identified him as a soldier of the 6th legion due to the symbol on his shield, one of General Marius Imperiu's men. He strode towards the table Lorgar sat and saluted. 

"Legate Lorgar?"

Lorgar returned the salute, 

"Yes soldier, what is it?"

The soldier took a rolled scroll from his leather bag, and handed it to Lorgar, whom was out of his seat now,

"Orders from General Imperius, sir"

Finally, Lorgar thought, and took the scroll, before tearing the seal and reading the contents of the scroll to all the men assembled,

Legate Lorgar,

The empire has formally denounced the usurper's so-called "declaration of Independence" and refused to sign it. As such the empire also refuses to grant any of Ulfric's demands. You are hereby ordered to engage in all out war, using any tactics you seem fit. As you read this letter the imperial navy is on it's way to blockade Skyrim's ports. Also my men, the sixth legion, are mobilizing, and shall arrive in Skyrim in 6 months. Until then your are to cause as much chaos as possible. That is all...The emperor protects old friend, I wish you luck...

General Marius Imperius, 6th legion, 

The room was filled with silence after Lorgar read the letter for around ten seconds, before bursting into cheers. Lorgar smiled, and addressed his troops,

"What are you men still doing here? Didn't you hear the general? We have to spread word around camp, the empire is gearing up for round two dogs!!!

Lorgar turned towards the courier,

"Tell General Marius we received the message, also tell him we'll see him in six months."

The courier nodded and ran out of the tent, followed by the other soldiers, eager to tell the rest of the camp the news, Lorgar turned towards the second lieutenant,

"Meet me at the command tent, also find Tribune Brutus, and Tribune William's and bring them along" 

Do'jhul looked down on his commanding officer and slammed his fist into his chest and replied with a, "Yes sir!" 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Captain Baldur Red-Snow
Falkreath Hold, Fort Neugrad
5 a.m. Morning

Baldur could not believe the news. The Imperials actually refused to sign the declaration of Independence the esteemed High King of Skyrim had drafted.

What were they thinking? I had thought that once we captured Tullius, the fighting would end, and we could continue our fight with the real enemy, the damned Thalmor. But Now he's escaped, and it it seems we've fallen deeper into their plans. Not only are we still fighting, but Skyrim will be even weaker with a blockade on our ports. It doesn't matter. I'll have to trust that the High King knows what he's doing. I'll do my part by following orders.

Baldur read the letter from the High King once again.

Captain Baldur Red-Snow,

Your orders are simple. Go to Fort Neugrad immediately and assume the role of their Captain. Your men's orders are to repair the fort, patrol the area and watch for any sign of Imperial presence, and hold off any assault they may launch. We have reason to believe that the imperial dogs will move in on Falkreath to have a better position to retake Whiterun. If they succeed, it could mean the undoing of everything we fought for. Your men consist of ordinary Stormcloaks, some of them new recruits. Our armies are still recovering from the Civil War, but do not worry. You'll also have access to one of the most elite group of soldiers our army has. They are the Necro Nords, known for their resilience in battle, and unrelenting assaults. They will serve you well.

I don't have to tell you that failure is not an option. You will succeed, or go to Sovngarde trying.

Oh, and fair warning. The Dark Elves have expressed their desire to prove their worth, so you may have a few of them as recruits as well. They started coming in after our victory in Solitude. Probably realized it was the best way to gain the Nord's respect. I don't want a Dunmer uprising, so I've accepted them into our ranks. Just so you're not caught off guard.

Your High King
Ulfric Stormcloak.

Wow, we truly are desperate if we're accepting Dark Elves into our ranks. And "Necro Nords?" I've never heard of them before. They must be a new group or something. The High King never did give good names... (Baldur's referring to the nicknames he bestowed upon the Dragonborn during the Civil War). 

So far, he hated the place already. It was covered in snow. Being in Skyrim, he was used to the snow, especially in Windhelm, but he never learned to like it. He hated it as a child in Bruma, and he hated it now. He had grown accustomed to his post in Whiterun, with the warm weather. For Skyrim anyway. On top of the change of climate, Helgen still had not been cleared of bandits yet, and he had to be careful passing the town. He said to himself that he'd soon fix that problem. He thought it'd be a good warm up for some of his greener troops. As he approached the fort upon his horse, he could hear the clang of metal from the forge, and see the guards posted on the battlements. It was a typical Skrim fort. [censored] and in disrepair. They'd have a lot of work to do restoring the place. He dismounted from his horse and removed his pack full of supplies. After that, he removed his cloak, and immediately felt the sting of cold upon his flesh. Then he removed his battle horn from his pack and began to blow strongly within it to wake up the men within the fort.

Time to get to work.
(Baldur Blows the battle horn)

"Get your sorry asses up out of bed! All of you! Come and feel the crisp cold air of Skyrim!"

He waited until all the men were out of the fort to see him. He noticed a nord taking his time and was about to set an example when a Dark Elf of all things put his boot to his ass and moved him along.

Imagine that. "I'm not one for speeches so we'll keep this short. My name is Baldur Red-Snow. I am your new Captain. Our job is a simple one. Repair this fort, watch for any Imperials, and above all else, do not let them take this fort, or this hold. I will not tolerate laziness, and I will not tolerate cowardice. We will have daily training for recruits. Those who are deemed the weakest will lose half their rations, and will be put on cleaning duty for the entire fort!"

One of the men groaned at this, and Baldur spotted his moment to set an example. He spotted the culprit immediately when he heard him groan in pain. The Dark Elf had elbowed him in the stomach, and that allowed him to see who it was. It was the same nord he saw earlier taking his sweet time.

"You. Draw your sword."

The nord looked confused. 
"I said draw your sword, you scullery maid!"

He reluctantly drew his sword. Baldur noticed his arm shaking. Baldur then told the Dark Elf to kill him. The Dark elf hesitated for a second, and then drw his sword as well. The nord was sweating heavily at this point, even in this cold. The Dark Elf looked in my direction before he began and Baldur gave him a wink. He understood immediately. The other soldiers looking on in worry noticed this too, and began whispering and snickering amongst themselves. The nord was to be scared and embarrassed, not killed. The Dark Elf began his onslaught and the nord put up his guard. Baldur could tell the Dark Elf was a tough one. He had a rough look to himself, and his left eye had a scar accross it. He was handling this nord with ease. Just when Baldur was about to stop the fighting, the Dunmer disarmed him, and had his blade to his throat.

Baldur held his hand up to give the signal. The nord closed his eyes as Baldur did this and was expecting the worst.
As Baldur dropped his hand, he told everyone they were dismissed, and that he'd be giving orders in a few hours after he had rested from his journey. The men bagan to laugh and the Nord stood there amazed and embarassed at his gullibility.

"You, hold Elf. What's your name?"

The Dark Elf replied.

"Reval Tordyn, sir."

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, Reval. I like your style. Dismissed." 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Rebec Red-Eye
Blue Palace throne room, Solitude

Captain Rebec stood cross-armed, watching the imperial messenger preen and prate. Not even she expected the news of blockade, however.

"Sounds like you got back to port just in time," intoned an oily voice at her shoulder.

She glanced once at Thane Erikur, but held her tongue for the moment. Only when the audience broke up did the pair retreat to a quiet corner.

"Damned fools." Rebec could not suppress a grin. A blockade! She was going to be a rich woman.

"This is good for us, but for now I need you elsewhere, not on your ship."

"Eh?! Now see here..."

"Something big is going on in Falkreath, and I need you to go there to deliver some messages. It will be good for you, too. The fort there will need supplies, and I know you're holding out on me again and have wares of your own to distribute. I'll overlook that and I'll let you use my caravan, but don't fail me."

The sailor regarded Erikur as if he were ripened horker dung. "You need me now more than I need you, thane. And where you'll need me is on the water."

"Not for the moment. These messages, they are... sensitive. You take my meaning." He paused and said, "Or do I need to show our new king that tally list I have hidden away? He's known for his temper, you know..."

Rebec's face turned redder than usual. "That won't be necessary," she replied sullenly. "If you want me in the ass end of the kingdom instead of slipping past those milksops from the imperial navy, then I'll go. Take care of my crew while they're in town. Don't let anybody get executed or anything."

"I promise nothing. My caravan will be loading at the docks. I'll send Melaran down with my messages." Erikur was already leaving.

The sailor made her way out of the palace as well, casting a dubious glance at the newly married king and queen who were talking to their advisors. "So much for the glorious Stormcloak independence," she muttered, shaking her head. Out on the street, she made for the lower city by way of Castle Dour. A pint at the Winking Skeever was required. Or two or three. Erikur's business, damn the man straight to Oblivion, could wait until she was properly oiled up. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fort Amol

He stood in a peaceful little village. The sky was clear, the wind soft and you could smell the spring in the cool air. He could see the people in the village going on with their daily shores. The blacksmith hammred his steel, the farmers worked the fields and the lumberjacks was shopping down a big pine tree. This was his home. But it wouldn't last long. Soon the sky grew dark, the people turned to dust and the houses started to burn. Though all the people had turned to dust, screams of fear and panic could be heard from every direction. He fell down on his knees as felt his life fall apart and a darkness creep up on him.

He opened his eyes and found himself looking at the fort courtyard. It was all a dream, always the same dream. He sat in a chair at the northeast edge of the courtyard with a good view over the fort entrance. The sun had just begun to dawn. The outside of the fort was almost empty, most of the Stormcloaks was sleeping in the barracks. Just a few was outside keeping watch on the walls, most of them patrolled the southern and western wall as the northern and eastern walls was sitting on top of a mountain side. An enemy would have to have wings to able to mount a successful assault from those sides. To the south of the fort was the great mountain wall that marked the border between The Rift and Eastmarch.
Witch-king, a name he had taken for what must have been many ages ago. Though the men could never get around the "king" part of the name, so they nicknamed him Witchie. It didn't bother him with the men giving him such a nickname, what did bother him was when they asked why he had such a name. They never got an answer to that question as he just casted a subtle fear spell that sent a chill down their spines. They didn't ask that question a second time.

The morning was quiet. The sun rose as the fort was beginning to wake up. The guards on the wall went to bed as the newly awakened soldiers took their place. The smith fired up his forge and the workers began to work on the last damage on the fort. The morning continued as such but Witch-king felt that something was about to change. His instinct was right, as always. The sun was halfway on its way up the sky, he stood at the western wall above the gateway staring at the small field to the west. Suddenly a rider wearing the Stormcloaks color rode forth from the forest beyond the field, he was heading for the fort. The rider rode in through the small gateway under him and into the courtyard.
"I got a message for someone called the "Witch-king!" The rider yelled. The tone he used when he spoke his name suggested the courier thought the name was some kind of joke.
"Witchie is up there on the wall. Impossible to miss." One the men in the courtyard replied and pointed towards Witch-king.
The man was right, he was impossible to miss as he was wearing a torn black hooded robe, echanted with an illusion spell that rendered the face impossible to see. And armored only with steel plate gauntlets and boots. Not exactly the common Stormcloak soldier.
The courier dismounted, ran up the wall and handed Witch-king the letter. He could see it in the eyes of the courier that he was a bit uneasy when the courier looked at back at him as he handed over the letter. Witch-king opened the letter and started to read. Orders about a transfer; he was to go to Fort Neugrad as soon as possible and install himself directly under the command of someone called Baldur Red-Snow as his lieutenant. Somethng about the imperials moving into Falkreath. He didn't think much of the imperials, they were just in the way. They were only an obstacle between him and the Dominion.
He dismissed the courier, who seemed to welcome being dismissed, headed down the courtyard and mounted his horse. But before he could ride off to Fort Neugrad his second in command, a sturdy nord named Bjori, approached him.
"I'm going to Fort Neugrad. You're in command of this fort now." Witch-king said.
"Yes sir!" He replied and continued, "Are you going alone? Maybe you should take two guards with you on the journey."
"I travel best alone." Witch-king answered and rode off before Bjori could say another word. He was planning to ride without a stop. And with a little luck he would reach the fort before the next day dawned. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites


Reval went to the barracks and had himself some time to quietly contemplate what was going on. He couldn't believe what had just occurred that day. When he received the message that he was going to be moved to Fort Neugrad, he thought, "Well, I'm moving from the cold into the heart of the cemetery itself. Guess considering who I am, its fitting. At least I won't be in the cold anymore."

Reval remembers going into the carriage bound for Falkreath and seeing the aftermath of the war. People everywhere where managing to rebuild their lives. While some Imperial loyalists no doubt cried over the Empire's defeat, most people were ambivalent or even receptive to the change. Reval hoped that the end of the war would signal a time for rest, rebuilding, and peace. Unfortunately, he had no doubt in his mind that the Empire would return and cause damage. He had hoped it would simply be another group of legionaires he would gladly put down. He never expected an Imperial officer to insult Ulfric in such a manner.

"Guess I expected too much of the Imperials. I suppose being Imperial gives them too much arrogance." Reval chuckled a little while saying this, but he knew that it would no doubt mean more trouble. "At least I can exterminate more Imperials," he said to himself. As Reval began to drift to sleep, he thought, "Guess this is where they send the misfits. First they have these Necro Nords placed here, then they send for me and now I'm hearing about this witch guy all over the camp. At least the captain seems like a decent man. Hopefully he can whip all these maggots into shape since I completely dominated that rookie." With that, he fell asleep. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Captain Baldur Red Snow, Witch-King
Fort Neugrad
Captain's Quarters

"Witch King? Really? Hahahahaha! Are you for real?"

Baldur couldn't believe his luck. Not even a day into his new position, and he had what he believed to be a lunatic claiming that he was to be his lieutenant. The figure before him, as strange as his name was, looked even stranger. He had steel plated gauntlets and boots, and a black hooded robe. At first Baldur thought that the shadow from the hood was hiding his face, but he soon realized the figure before him had no face, or appeared not to have one. This made Baldur grow serious, and wary.

"So, Witch King. I don't think I've ever heard of a man without a face, so I figure you're a mage with some illusion talents. You have some stones to join a faction known for their distrust of magic. I for one never understood that. However, I cannot trust a man who does not show his face. Let alone one who hides it with magic and claims he's to be my liutenant. So, may I see your face?"

Baldur waited with anticipation to hear this stranger's response. He couldn't believe Ulfric would allow someone like this into the army. Once again he was reminded of the desperate nature of this war.

Even so, he must have proven himself in some way if he was recommended to be my lieutenant. And I can use a good mage for when things get ugly later on. Desparate times call for desperate measures. I wonder what this guy looks like. Is he an elf? A nord? With a name like the "Witch King" I wouldn't be surprised to see a hag raven under there. 
The thought made him want to chuckle, but he held it in as he waited for the man's response. 

Witch-king was staring Baldur, his new captain. The captain had just asked for him to reveal his face. He always used the illusion spell to cover his face to cause uncertainty among the peple he met.
The less they know about me, the better. This was how he reasoned. But he could not afford the mistrust of this officer. He let the illusion fall for a brief moment and revealed his face. With his cold grey eyes, filled with a subtle glimt of both hatred of torment, he looked deeply into captains eyes as he said:
"My name may not hold the same truth as it once did. The men back at Fort Amol nicknamed me Witchie for that."

He continued to pin down the eyes of the captain while waiting for an answer. 

Baldur looked upon the man's face with relief when he saw he was simply a nord. The man was fierce looking. He had long black hair and grey eyes with a scar on his cheek.
So, not a hag raven... Baldur thought.

"Witchie eh? If you don't mind, I'll refer to you as Lieutenant from here on. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be receiving this position without earning it. But you must have been recommended to me for a reason, so I'll trust the judgement of my superiors. I can see that this was a big deal for you, revealing your face and all. I thank you for trusting me. I can't have a lieutenant whose face I don't even know. You're free to keep up your llusion if you wish, but the men would trust you more without it. That said, they'd fear you more with it, which can also be a good thing. I'll leave it up to you which road you wish to take.

"Now, down to business. I'll need you to start organizing the men into task groups. I'll need men to start repairs immediately, and the rest of the men to train with the Necro Nords. They can handle the training. I just need you to make sure that the other men get to work repairing this fort and that they keep at it. After that, we'll discuss the hold itself and start sending out patrols. Supplies are ok for now, but we'll need to eventually make our way to Falkreath for more. Don't worry about that now, though. I have something in mind for our rookies. Too many of them I suspect have never seen battle. That is going to change. Understand? Good. You're dismissed."

As the man left, Baldur thought about the battles to come, and wondered not about his rookies, but himself. He has seen battle, but he was still a mere soldier. He was no Galmar Stone-Fist. He had something to prove as much as anyone else did.

I'll practice as well with these Necro Nords. I need to see what these men can do anyway. I'll be a bit sluggish, as I've not slept in a day, but I have to do my part as well. 

Baldur walked out into the fort grounds a little while after the Lieutenant Witch King had some time to organize the men accordingly. These Necro Nords were quite the sight. They all were outfitted in what appeared to be Nordic Carved Armor. That had to be quite expensive. Their silver armor freshly polished and pressed against what appeared to be black bear fur glinted in the sun as they thrust and pocked with their practice swords and axes. The other Stormcloak men while in lighter armor just could not keep up. These men were clearly experts in fighting in heavy armor, as they kept on fighting tirelessly, giving no quarter to their foe.

Still, regardless of their skill in heavy armor, it may be best to have them travel on horseback if our men mobize in the future.

One soldier actually managed to get the best of one of them, and Baldur was not surprised to see it was the Dunmer Reval from earlier. He was using a practice wooden axe. The Necro Nord swung his huge wooden sword to the Dunmer's face and, he ducked under it, and tripped the Nord by hooking his foot with his axe and sweeping him off his feet with it, all in one slick movement. Baldur stepped in and decided to spar with the Dunmer instead. Baldur picked up a wooden shield and wooden sword. As the two began to trade blows, Baldur began to question the Dunmer.

"So, elf. I mean Reval. You're a pretty good fighter. What's your story?" 

"So you want to know my past? Not much to talk about. Had a father who was one of the elite Redoran Guard and my mother was an apprentice to a Telvanni master. Guess I learned a trick or two from both of them. Lets just say the Empire is the reason they aren't with us. You'd be surprised how much you can learn from rage." 

Reval raised one of his hands and said, "If you thought my axe skills were impressive, how about this?" Reval launched a ball of magic at the ground, summoning a Dremora Lord. Reval chuckled a bit and said, "Guess the Empire never expected some Telvanni magic, did they?" 

Baldur was completely taken off guard by the Dark Elf's magic. The other men stopped what they were doing to watch the spectacle. Naturally, they all wanted to see what the Captain could do. Baldur while shocked quickly recovered his thoughts and threw the daedra a wooden claymore. The Dremora Lord just stood there and let it drop.

"Do you mind?" Baldur asked.

The Dark Elf snickered and commanded the daedra pick up the wooden claymore. After that, they continued their spar. The sound of wood on wood hitting and scraping filled the courtyard. Nords looked on in fear or bewilderment of the magic they were seeing. The dunmer looked on proudly. They were happy to see one of them being so honored and respected. Sparing with the Captain was a big deal. Baldur didn't see it this way. He hadn't yet trusted the elves, and he wanted to see if he could. Best way to do that was to fight with them he figured. Fighting the two of them was proving to be a bit much. Any time the Dark Elf would be open for an attack from Baldur, the damned Daedra would move in the way and take the blow with his huge daedric armor. Baldur grew desperate and kicked up snow into Reval's eyes. He went to smack him in the face with the shield, and the daedra predictably blocked it with his armor.

The shield splintered in half, and the daedra close-lined Baldur to the ground. The strength of this monster made him flip in the air before he landed. The soldiers almost started to draw their swords in worry. As the daedra lifted his sword, and the men really did draw their swords, the captain got up swiftly and quickly stabbed the daedra in the face with the wooden sword. The smell of the daedra's blood was foul, and it made his eyes water a little. The daedra disappeared after the killing blow was given. Reval made his move and went to strike Baldur while he was exposed.

Baldur grabbed the Dunmer's hand with his left hand, and held the wooden sword to his neck with the other. The duel was over. The soldiers all applauded, yelled and hollered in approval of the display. Baldur told them to resume their practice, and told Reval to meet him in his quarters upstairs with him and the Lieutenant "Witch King". He had some plans that would be put into action the next day and wanted Reval to be a part of them. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Legate Lorgar Grim-Maw, Do'jhul
Camp Rommulas

Finally after rounding up the to other officers under Do'jhul's command, they headed towards the Legate's tent. Flipping aside the flap, the three soldiers entered. In the middle of the tent was a map of the Falkreath region and points of interest. Walking to it, Do'jhul put his huge hands on the table and observed the map carefully. 
"What is our plan of action?"

Lorgar stroked his beard and stared at the map of Falkreath. The stormcloak army outnumbered the current imperial force by a large margin, but as a trade off, a good portion of the stormcloak Garrison was green, while most, if not all of the XI Cohort were hardened Veterans. Overall if the right conditions were set (Terrain, Moral, positioning, tactics, ect) the imperial force would have a good strategic advantage over the stormcloak force. He finally brought his eyes up to the assembled officers,

"Recon gentlemen, recon... Send blood pack, rage pack, and slasher pack to scour these three roads," Lorgar pointed at the three main roads on the map, "We need to know how traveled these roads are , tell them to bring some parchment with them and record everything that passes by, ever Civilian or Military. Tell them under no circumstances are they to engage stormcloak forces, this is a stealth mission..." 

All three of the officers saluted. William, Titus and Do'Jhul turned to leave, before they could Lorgar spoke up,

"Excuse me lieutenant, I need a word with you, a special assignment you could say..." 

Do'jhul looked thoughtfully at the Legate and smiled. Looking back at the two other officers, William and Titus, he addressed them. "You heard what the Legate said. Titus, I want you to head up the blood and rage pack", looking next to William, "William, I want you to head up the slasher pack. You men know what to do." 

The two officers saluted Do'jhul and exited the tent. Do'jhul was about to leave when... 

"Excuse me lieutenant, I need a word with you, a special assignment you could say..."

Turning back to the Legate, Do'jhul said, "What did you have in mind, Legate Lorgar?" 

Lorgar smiled, revealing his wolf like teeth,

"I'm going to be blunt with you, I've read your record..." Logar's grin grew even larger "all of your record...your the only one who I think can pull this off...I want you to go into Falkreath, use any means at your disposal, and assassinate Jarl Degirer." 

Do'jhul was immediately taken back by what the Legate wanted him to do. What's going? Keeping a calm demeanor about him, Do'jhul spoke. 

"What about my record did you read that made you think I'm some sort of "assassin"? I'm not involved with that line of work. Why are you asking this of me? Plus, it's not one of the Legion's fortes anyway." 

Lorgar smiled mischievously,

"To answer your first question, I can simply say, Fort Amon..." Lorgar let the words sink in before continuing, "to answer your second question Do'jhul, I want to send Ulfric a message, dont fuck with the legion, and Falkreath is imperial territory...what better way then to kill the local stormcloak puppet...and maybe...if you do that, people will address you as first lieutenant Do'Jhul from then on... " 

Do'jhul laughed out loud so hard, probably the whole camp could hear him. Settling down Do'jhul went on to correct the Legate. "What's this about Fort Amon? Sorry sir, but I don't know what you're trying to get at. Second, we are not the Dark Brotherhood. Leave assassinations to the Pentius Oculatus. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to decline that assignment, sir." 

Fucking cat...

Lorgar was visibly pissed, Lorgar didn't like when people refused a assignment, 

"First of, Second Lieutenant, I know all about your little mis-adventure with Centurion Biggs in fort Amol. You got drunk, and stole the captain's keys to the ale storage, under his nose...A show of stealth if I might add...And if you don't want to go to Falkreath to do this little errand that will get you a promotion, it's fine...instead you'll be assigned to latrine duty for 5 months..." Lorgar lay back on his chair, "Your choice..." 

Do'jhul was shocked at the Legate's reaction. It seemed those couple of years of fostering a friendship shattered at this moment. Do'jhul knew what he had to do. I'm leaving the Legion. There's nothing left for me here. The Stormcloaks won and Empire is turning into a spoiled brat. I remember one of our scouts saw that Fort Neugard was being occupied by some Stormcloaks. I can go there. 

Do'jhul looked at the Legate with a calm face and said, "Well if that's the case, then I'll be taking my leave of this, dog hound. I'm not going to do an assignment that goes against my personal morals. Sorry sir." 

Lorgar looked serious for a moment, and just signed at Do'Jhul...

"Do'jhul...you do know what Dengier did to your comrades in arms? He forced them to run threw the forest naked while he let out his hounds...he executed innocents on suspicious on being imperial spy's, even though you know we don't have any...And killing this man is against your personal morals?"

Lorgar looked at Do'jhul in disappointment, and spoke without his usual gusto, and instead spoke in the disciplinary voice of an officer,

"If you wont take the OP then fine...I don't want you running to the stormcloaks so I wont assign you to Latrine, you are to report to blood pack and go with them for the scouting op, understood?...Your dismissed i'll do the OP myself..." 

Do'jhul saluted the Legate and said, "Yes sir", and then walked out of the tent and got ready to catch up with the scouting party...... 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Hold of Falkreath
Camp Rommulus 
2 PM

The blood pack watched Fort Neugrad for over an hour. They could hear what sounded like sparring coming from the courtyard. It sounded intense. Do'jhul had an idea, turning to his subordinate he said to Titus, "I'm going to go out in the open to scare the Stormcloaks. No matter what happens, do not, I repeat, do not, interfere. If anything goes wrong head back to camp as fast as you can. Understood?" 

The Imperial nodded and said, "Yes sir." 

Looking back at his men, Do'jhul got out from the cover of the trees and walked towards the fort a little and stopped. Almost immediately, he saw a Stormcloak sentry, spot him and the man alerted the Stormcloaks within the courtyard. 

Let's see what you got... 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Baldur Red-Snow, Reval
Fort Neugrad Falkreath Hold
2 pm

Before Baldur and Reval could leave to speak in private for Reval's future, the sentry at the top of the battlements started calling out for him.

"Captain! An Imperial soldier is outside of the fort!"

Baldur told Reval to continue the discussion later, and he made his way up top. Worried about an assassin, he grabbed a helmet off of a table and put it on his head. He was expecting a puny imperial when he got up to the battlements. What he saw was quite different. At first he thought he saw a werewolf. Closer examination showed that it was a giant khajiit in imperial armor with a full wolf pelt. How strange, he thought.

"That has got to be THE biggest house cat I have ever seen"

One of the Necro Nords whispered in his ear and gave him some info on the unit the Khajiit was a part of judging from the armor. When Baldur was told their motto, (We are the fangs of Mede, hear us howl) he interrupted the Nord and burst out laughing.

"Tell me, what wizards does the Empire have that have the power to make house cats howl?"

Before the Khajiit could speak, Baldur burst into song, rudely ridiculing the Khajiit.

"A soldier above has called out to me,
A cat at our fort has gathered our masses,
I look down below and what do I see?
A legionnaire begging for our boots to their asses!"

This caused the men to cheer in excitement. Baldur having his fun signaled for silence.

"So, legionnaire. Who are you and why do you risk death by being here?" 

Do'jhul simply replied with, "This Cathay-raht's name is Do'jhul. I simply wish to test the strength of one of your so called "Necro Nords". It's been a while since my claws have tasted blood." 

Reval unsheathed his ebony axe and yelled, "Khajiit or not, I will kill you just the same as any Imperial. State your business, or I'll make you the new rug of the fort!" 

Do'jhul simply replied to the Dark Elf with, "I do not have time to deal with insignificant opponents. Begone, ash face", Do'jhul said with a wave of his hand. 

"Once again, Imperial bluster shows its ugly face. Since you are obviously not here for a peaceful discussion, you should run before you get an axe in your face." With that, Reval threw a fireball at the Khajiit and yelled, "Azura curse you!!!" 

Thanks to his enhanced reflexes and agility, Do'jhul easily side stepped the fireball. It then exploded on the side of a large behind him. Do'jhul then took of his wolf pelt, covering his face and threw it to the ground and said in a calm tone, "You're to have to try harder than that, little cub." 
With that, Do'jhul unslung his shield off his back and unsheathed his specialized Nordic sword and waited for his opponent. 

"Restrain yourself, Reval" said Baldur. "That Ashface has bested a Necro Nord, and will be more than sufficient to do battle with you, house cat."

Baldur signaled Reval to go down and show the men what he could really do. Baldur had grown confident in the Dunmer's skills and was not worried for his life. The men, however did not share his confidence and wondered about the wisdom of sending a skilled soldier to face a creature that can be mistaken for a werewolf in a one on one fight.

Reval showed no fear. Rather, Reval had a smile on his face. This Dunmer was more of a Nord than some of the Nords in his command. Reval grabbed his ebony axe from his chest nearby, and went to the gate. Baldur called out just before he went out. "Reval! Grab your bonemold and ebony armor as well. You hereby are my second lieutenant, and are no longer restrained to normal Stormcloak gear. Show this kitty what you're made of."The position is what Baldur was going to talk about. The look in Reval's eyes showed that he approved. With that, Reval put on his Bonemold boots and gauntlets, and his ebony armor along with a stormcloak Officer helm and marched out to face the giant khajiit.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Reval, Do'jhul

The two started conversing while circling each other.  Reval yelled, "The strength of the Dunmer will not fail against a mere cat!" and summoned a dremora lord by his side. His ebony axe gleaming in the sun light, Reval waited for his opponent's next attack. As he was waiting, the dremora lord yelled, "I smell weakness!" and proceeded to charge at Do'jhul. Reval, taking advantage of the situation, cloaked himself in ancestor's fire and charged alongside his dremora, preparing for a ferocious strike. 

When they got close, Do'jhul used his powerful legs and jumped clear over them. Landing to their back sides, Do'jkul then rushed foward towards the Dremora and beheaded it in one clean swoop and it disappeared back to Oblivion. After taking care of the summon, Do'jhul then slowly walked towards the Dunmer and waited for his next attack..... 

 "How can such a thing be possible?!" yelled Reval as the Khajiit jumped back down, smirking arrogantly. 
"Guess I have to be more strategic with my fighting style." Reval proceeded to launch several fireballs at the Khajiit who dodged them rather skillfully.

Reval thought to himself, This is going to be a much tougher fight than I expected. Reval yelled, "You know, maybe you should actually try to hit me and quit running!" His brows slightly sweating from the heat of his ancestor's wrath, Reval grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at the Khajiit. While the Khajiit was busy wiping away the dirt, Reval went on a wagon and conjured a bound sword in his left hand. 

Reval proceeded to use both his bound sword and ebony war axe to charge at the Khajiit. However, the climate soon began to grow a huge thunderstorm which caked the entire area in a torrent of rain. Reval watched as his boots became slightly caked with brown, moist mud and a whitish mist surrounding the area. 

"Damn, I wasn't expecting this weather to get so bad just now. Guess I've been too used to Morrowind's climate," thought Reval, as he now stopped charging and watched as his flame cloak dissipated. His armor now moistened with water, Reval braced himself for his opponents next attack. "Your move, cat." 

After Do'jhul took care of the Dremora, the Dunmer exclaimed how impossible it was for Do'jhul to an acrobatic cut. The elf then preceded to cast a couple of fireballs, which Do'jhul easily dodged. 

The elf began to yell more and more during the fight. He sure likes to talk. In a spare moment, the dark elf threw some dirt in Do'jhul's eyes which caused him constantly rub to get the dirt out. Squinting, Do'jhul could see the drak elf summon a bound sword and was about to spring on the attack when a thunder storm rolled in. 

Soon the ground became muddy and slippery. Do'jhul then noticed the Dunmer's fire cloak go out. Now's my chance. 
The dunmer then said, "Your move, cat." 

Do'jhul then did a powerful burst of speed and went to stab the elf, but at the last second, Do'jhul turned the stab into a diagonal slash hoping to cut the throat of the Dunmer. 

Reval noticed the Khajiit preparing for a stab attack. Reval braced himself with all of his might for the Khajiit's attack. As the rain continued its downpour, the Khajiit appeared like an aspect of the fog during the storm. Just as the Khajiit was preparing his stab, Reval placed his weapons in a blocking fashion, hoping to avoid the damage. However, he wasn't fast enough to notice it turning into a diagonal slash.

Reval had just enough time to avoid a throat slash, but he wasn't fast enough to avoid getting hit by the blade. Reval's chest was sliced by the weapon. Although his ebony armor blocked most of the damage, the attack still managed to strike him hard enough to cause some damage. 

While Reval was holding his chest in slight pain, his blood fell on his hand and mixed with water and mud of the storm. As the Khajiit smirked arrogantly, Reval took advantage to grab his ebony war axe and sliced the Khajiit's chest, causing damage. As both Reval and the Khajiit held their chests in pain, Reval laughed and said, "Guess we both have matching scars." 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Fort Neugrad

“What is that on a Morndas?!” Rebec gaped as the wagon turned the corner and rolled up the rough track towards Fort Neugrad. It is loaded with goods, covered over with oilcloth to keep out the rain.

“Looks like a fight brewing,” the Dunmer driver answered.

“I know it’s a fight. What’s that?” She pointed at the Cathay-Raht.

“Why it’s a... by Azura, I don’t know.”

Rebec was already moving, shuffling off her cloak to reveal the Stormcloak uniform beneath. One axe was already fastened on her belt, and she fetched her other from the pack.

The Dunmer watched her skeptically. “I thought you hated the idea of coming down here. You’ve been bending my ear about it across all of Skyrim.”

“There’s a fight,” Rebec answered, as if that explained everything. “Stay with the gear. Guard it with your miserable life, elf.”

“Sod off.” He watched her go, shaking his head. “Nords,” he muttered, and sat back to watch.

For the moment all Rebec does is watch, too, standing a ways off from the duel. She spins her axe slowly, ready for anything. It’s not clear what is going on, but the elf was right. Rain and all, at least this was more interesting than the pristine streets of Solitude. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Witch-king (aka Witchie), Baldur
Fort Neugrad

Witchie, no point in using the "king" part when he lacked to might to back it up, had just been ordered to organize the men into taks groups and send workers to repair the fort. As he left the quarters he put the black shroud of illusion back onto his face. He organized the men as ordered. Workers similar to the ones at Fort Amol where sent to work on the southwestern wall. Most of he fort had already been repaired to the degree that the big gaps were filled and some of the wooden walls had been replaced with ones of stone. But it was from the southwest the imperials had to come if they were to assault the fort, so the walls there had to be in prime shape. Some of the more experienced soldiers were sent up to guard the walls. The rest of the men left before him could easily be categorized into two groups, from the looks of them; veterans and rookies. Among the rookies he spotted a dunmer, he could feel the hatred swell up inside but it was quickly subdued when he reminded himself that there were more important matters to focus on. But that didn't mean he couldn't have a bit of fun with the elf. When pairing the rookies with the veterans they would spar with, he specifically choose the most fierce looking veteran he could see to spar with the dunmer.

I can't kill him, but I can at least give him some bruises.

When he had organized the men he went up on the wall to keep watch over the road. Behind him he heard the sparring and soon also felt the presence of a daedra. Apparently the elf knew a trick or two. But he just stood there at the wall waiting for something to happen, he could feel that something was out there just like he did with the courier back at Fort Amol. Soon something that looked like a big fur ball with armor stepped towards the fort. It was imperial armor. One of the men shouted that an imperial soldier stood outside the fort and the captain and the dunmer rushed up to the wall to see. When they saw that it was a khajiit they started to mock the cat. But Witchie just stood there waiting with his armed crossed. The khajiit threw an insult back at the dunmer who then answered with a fireball.

"Restrain yourself, Reval" Baldur said to the dunmer. The captain then continued to boast about the skill of the dunmer and told to go out and face the cat. He also promoted the dunmer in the same sentence.

Great, now I have an elf right under my command. But this fight could get interesting. 

The dunmer went out and summoned a dremora lord, put on a flame cloak and charged the khajiit with the daedra. But the khajiit was fast and killed the daedra before the battle had really begun. They continued to fight as the weather got worse and ground turned to mud. The dunmer lost his cloak and then they both got a strike each at eachothers chests.

"Want me to interfere?" Witchie asked Baldur. He had subtly prepared a spell in his hand that would summon fierce cold beast that seemed to have been forgotten to this world. I may not like the elf, but I need people like him to face the Dominion. 


Baldur watched as the two continued their onslaught. Baldur was waiting for a moment to take advantage of, and it soon presented itself when Reval injured the huge cat, although his new second lieutenant was also injured. Baldur was about to speak when a soldier next to him grabbed his shoulder and pointed in the direction of a woman in stormcloak gear. Baldur had no idea what she was doing but she could be useful, he thought.

"Witchie, see that woman down there?"

"I see her." Witchie said without even looking at the direction he pointed towards.

"Good. I need you to take a team down a secret entrance in this fort. I believe the men have already been briefed on it So if you don't know what I'm talking about, ask them. Take a team down there, probably a small one, as you'll have to have them swim through the hole in the back one at a time, and have them circle around the fort and meet up with that woman. Stay hidden. From there, await my signal. If the Khajiit tries to put a finishing blow, or our Lieutenant gets the upper hand, then I'll send you in to apprehend our new prisoner. The cat is huge, so your magics may be needed to make this work. Is this something you can handle?"

"Yes" He replied and did not even bother with sir.

He went down the wall, gathered some veterans and asked them about the secret entrance. They said they knew of it and Witchie ordered one of them lead the way. He went into the fort through the prison and some more tunnels till he reached what must be an underwater cave leading to the lake.

"We're going to out this way and then circle the fort to meet up with a woman." Witchie said.

Then he started to swim down the underwater cave. He came up at the surface of the lake gasping for air. The water was cold but it didn't bother him. The Necro Nords was right behind him and managed to swim suprisingly well despite the heavy armor. They reached the shore and made their way around the fort. When Witchie could see the khajiit when he glanced around a corner he ordered the men to halt. The weather was to their advantage though. With the rain and light mist hanging in the air he formed it through icy magic to a thick snowy mist, novice work, that he covered the unit with. They then continued to sneak towards the woman and the carriage in the cover of the frosty mist. Hopefully no one would notice that the mist was thicker where they walked.

Baldur awaited his men to reach their goal and had a smile on his face.

I bet the Legion never expected a Stormcloak to be so cunning. Thought Baldur to himself.

As he waited for the men to reach the woman and take position, he looked down and watched as the fight continued.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Lorgar Grim-Maw
Camp Rommulas

Lorgar Grim-Maw was fully geared up, in his cohort's standard issue "imperial wolf-armor". He had a quiver of large steel arrows, and had his rune-axe "Byltefang" strapped to his back. He was going over some charts of Falkreath when a legionarie opened the flap of his tent, the legionary was out of breath, and visibly worn, Logar gave him a second to catch his breath,

"Soldier, anything to report?"

"Yes sir, second lieutenant Da'Jhal has engaged some stormcloak soldiers at Fort Neugrad, against your orders..."

Lorgar let out a sigh, and face palmed himself,

"That idiot...I gave him a direct order to not engage any soldiers, do you know the reason why?"

The legionary nooded his head,

"He said he wanted to scare them sir..."

That sounds like Do'Jhul...

Lorgar's operation had to wait a little, Lorgar told the legionarie,

"Tell Tribune Brutus, and Tribune Caeser to head over to the fort with there wolf packs, tell them to hide in the shadow's of the forest and tell them not to engage until I give the wolf-howl signal, understood?"

The soldier saluted and ran out of Lorgar's tent, Lorgar spared no time, and ran off to join the legionary troops near the fort just in case something happened.


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Outside Fort Neugrad

Witchie and his men approached the carriage in the cover of the mist. So far the combatans haven't noticed them. When he arrived he saw that the other person at the carriage was a dunmer.

Another damned elf! If this continues I'll ask for a transfer. 

"I was ordered to set up position here." he said wih a hushed voice.

The Dunmer carriage driver stirs and pulls his hood back to have a look at the newcomers. "I don't want any part of this," he warns, then whistles for Rebec.

The sailor glances over her shoulder, and seeing the Stormcloaks at the wagon, turns to approach. "Now lads," she says with a gesture back towards the duel, "what is all this? Pin the Tail on the Dunmer? We used to play that game as kids." The carriage driver utters a derisive snort, but Rebec ignores him. Addressing Witchie, she says, "I'm hoping you can explain what's going on here. I'm Rebec Red-Eye, captain of the Howling Harpy, when I'm not playing nursemaid to caravans."

"The captain sent out his second lieutenant to duel the cat. We are to await a singal before we move in to capture the fur ball." Witchie said while he pointed towards the wall where the captain stood.
He ordered the men take to take position and wait for the signal. The mist was still active, no one should be able to spot them unless someone decides to make too much noise.

Rebec glances up at the wall. "A duel? This sounds like a trap to me. Sending that big beast out to distract your captain while the rest of the imps prepare for an attack. Ah well, I was tired of fighting reavers anyway. But listen here...what did you say your name was again? My wagon here is full of back bacon and spiced wine, not to mention weapons and ingots for your smith. So if things go wrong, I hope you'll help me defend it."

"They call me Witchie." he replied without taking the eyes off the captain and the combatans. "And there are more of them."
He could feel the presence of more soldiers but he couldn't feel from where this presence came from nor exactly how many they were. But he knew that they were out there somewhere.
"Get ready for a fight." he said with voice so low that it was almost a whisper as he drew his stalhrim sword. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Baldur Red-Snow
Fort Neugrad
After Noon

Baldur was looking in the direction of the woman and could barely make out the Lieutenant and his men in the mist. Baldur smiled in anticipation of his maneuver.

It almost seems too easy. He thought.

The whole scene felt wrong. One legionnaire walks up to an enemy fort, and challenges them to a duel with a soldier of our choosing. All by himself with no protection? No fellow soldiers? This khajiit may be a beast, but Baldur could tell he was a cunning one. No one would be this stupid. He had to know they wouldn't just let him go. Unless he betted everything on the Nord sense of honor that is too often exaggerated by outsiders. No, as he just said, this beast was cunning. He couldn't be that stupid, could he? Baldur began to frown, and grew steadily worried. Both of his lieutenants were out of the safety of the fort, and he was about to give the order that put them both in the open, on top of some of his finest soldiers. He began to wonder what his father would have done, and realized this was exactly what he'd do. Goad the enemy and get them to make a move, then strike when they were open. Baldur felt for this before, but he would not let it happen again. He had to set up precautions.

Baldur whispered to the soldier next to him and ordered him to get all archers up on the battlements immediately and prepare for cover fire for those who were below.

"Aim at the cat too if he tries to run. Shoot for the legs."

Then he told the other soldier next to him to get the Necro Nords and the Stormcloaks organized by the gates and be ready to swarm the Khajiit and Reval as soon as they heard any sign of other enemies. His plan was to surround the two with bodies so no one could help or take them away, and the men in the back would subdue the cat if he tried to fight his way out. That's if there really were legionaries waiting out in the distance somewhere. They may lose men, but he'd make sure he captured that Khajiit and keep his lieutenants no matter what. This Khajiit was highly skilled, so it stands to reason he's got some weight in the Legion. He may even be a Lieutenant. His capture would be worth a few deaths.

After a few moments everything was in place. Getting the men into place didn't take too long, as most of the men were already by the walls because of all of the commotion. Baldur decided that it was time to put his plan into motion. He lifted his hand and to get ready to signal. He waited to take in the moment. This would be his first military order that could cause the deaths of his men. He took in the scene. The clash and clang of metal from the two fighters, the bitter cold air that stung his lungs as he breathed, the pitter patter of rain upon his helmet, and the dull thud the rain made as it hit the ground and mingled with the snow and mud alike. He took it all in. He wanted to remember this moment for better or worse. It would be a defining moment in his career as a Captain, and it would set the mood for his men and the rest of his campaign as well.

"Okay, it's now or never."

Baldur dropped his hand to give the signal. As soon as he did, he charged down to the gates, and waited with his men. He had the Necro Nords at the front, in case archers were hiding outside, because they were wearing heavy armor, and it would protect them well against standard issue legion arrows. He realized that him going along would be just one more officer out in the open for the enemy, and would be exactly what his father wanted if he were his enemy now, but he was not one to sit in the fort while his men risked their lives. Baldur would go into battle as much as he could to prove to himself and his men he was worthy to be Captain. If his plan failed, he'd make sure he at least took out some Imperials in he process. The men opened the gates and awaited the Witch King and the Necro Nords to take action.

"Lets see what you can do, "Witch King." 


Link to comment
Share on other sites


The Dunmer was able to block Do'jhul at the last second, but at least he was able to land a blow on the Elf's chest. The elf reeled back in pain holding on to his wound and gasping. Do'jhul could tell his enemy was getting ahead of himself. He was just playing around with the elf, testing his combat prowess. 

Just then in a split second, the Dunmer grabbed his axe of the ground and swung at Do'jhul's chest. Raising his shield just in time, Do'jhul was able to deflect the blow; though the impact of the hit was so great that Do'jhul shield reverberated and knocked back into Do'jhul's chest, causing a large bruise. In his anger, Do'jhul took his shield and bashed the Dunmer's head with it. Walking up to the elf, Do'jhul picked him up easily and threw him towards the fort. 

All of a sudden, the front gates to the Fort opened and Do'jhul saw the Captain and a couple of the infamous "Necro Nords" lined up shoulder to shoulder, ready to come to the aid of their fallen comrade. He also noticed archers on the battlements. Hmph, looks like they're trying to capture me. Well let's have a little fun. Do'jhul then walked a little farther towards the fort and stopped about a few feet from the Dunmer lying on the ground. Do'jhul then spoke in a loud voice towards the Captain. 

"I had fun with your novice fighter. He has potential. Never want to eat fruit before it is ripe. Now, that I got your attention Captain, it's time to see if the Necro Nords live up to their reputation", Do'jhul then sheathed his sword and threw to the side, likewise with his shield. He the got into the fighting stance of the Khajiiti martial art, Whispering Fang, and shouted, "I have no weapons. Lets who will win. Come!" 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Baldur saw that the Khajiit was still fresh, and thought better of sending out his best men. The Khajiit made it a point to send them out, and he knew the enemy wanted to see what they could do. So instead he gave the men the order to stand aside and let the regular stormcloaks come through when he gave the order.

"Two score up front, now! We're moving in."

Baldur was confident. Even if he did lose men, they wouldn't be very valuable in the long run. It was a cruel thing to think, but sadly it was the truth. These men were his brothers, but they were expendable, as all soldiers are. Even him. They would die well, that's for sure.

"If that's how you want it furball, fine! CHARGE!"

The Stormcloaks began to pour out of the gates. The sound of their battle cry was deafening. The slaughter that was about to take place wouldn't be the best thing for morale, but it would be a significant tactical win if they could get any info out of the cat, or at least make demands for his safe return. The cat's main mistake was showing his skill in combat. That's the main reason Baldur knew he was valuable. One way or another, this fight would be worth it. And if the Legion were crazy enough to take on his entire fort, he'd be ready.

Baldur charged in as well with his men and prepared for the worst. He didn't notice any enemy soldiers so far, but that did not mean they weren't there, so he positioned himself so that there wouldn't be a clear shot of him while he charged the cat.

"Archers, shoot for the legs now!" 

Do'jhul anticipated where the arrows where going to strike and immediately dodged out of the way. Closing his eyes and imagining still cool pools of water and drops dripping, Do'jhul prepared himself for the onslaught. Then it began..... 

..... The first Stormclaok up rushed in front of the rest wielding a steel greatsword. the Nord then charged at Do'jhul and swung downward towards the Khajiit's head. Almost if on sixth sense, Do'jhul dodged the attack and as the Nord kept going from the momentum of the swing, Do'jhul kneed the soldier in the stomach and then took the man's head and swiftly broke his neck in two. 

Two more came. The one to Do'jhul's left wielding a shield and axe and the other a warhammer. I'll take the out the one with the shield first, then deal with other one. The Nord with the shield rushed in and attacked, aiming for Do'jhul's head. The Khajiit anticipated the attack and caught the man's arm and broke it, making him drop the axe. The Nord in rage tried to hit Do'jhul with his shield but the Khajiit swung around the Nord and held both of his arm's in place. The other Nord with warhammer swung down towards Do'jhul's head, but Do'jhul used the Nord he just incapacitated as a meat shield and the warhammer came down and crushed other Nord's head. 

In shok of killing his own comrade, Do'jhul took the opportunity and unsheathed his claws and slashed the man's throat open. Turning to the rest of the Stormcloaks, Do'jhul started to run and then leaped high into the air and aimed for the Captain....


Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the duel turns into a full-out melee, Rebec starts forward, then stops again. It all smells wrong. This beast must be a demon of Oblivion, for one thing, but even so, his suicidal act is too suspicious. And now the fort's gates are open. This is just what the imperials want, she thinks to herself, scanning the forest line for the attack she assumes must be coming. The sailor can play the role of a Stormcloak regular well enough but in her mind's eye, the enemy are not imperial soldiers but reavers, bandits, just the nameless and faceless targets that stand between her and her payoff.

"Your captain might be in trouble," she says to Witchie, gesturing to the fort. "I hope you have some tricks up your sleeve. I'm going to scout around a little bit. One or two of you, come with me."

With that she turns and, not waiting to see if any of the Stormcloaks follow, heads warily toward the tree line, in the direction of the hidden imperial soldiers. Both axes are out now, held ready to throw or hack whatever comes out of the rain. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Baldur Red-Snow
Fort Neugrad

Baldur's stomach dropped. He wasn't afraid of battle, but the men were getting brutalized to his dismay. He anticipated the killing, but it didn't make it any easier to see knowing his command was the reason they died.

They're expendable. But that doesn't make me feel any better about it.

Baldur watched in horrer as the giant cat used one of his men as a meat shield to protect himself from the blow of a war hammer. The sound of breaking bones made one of the recruits begin to wretch his insides out. The bright amber color appeared strange upon the white snow to Baldur. It was clear the soldier had drunken some mead before the fight to calm his nerves. The man that had been struck was the same nord again that he had made an example of in the beginning. Baldur shook his head in sadness. Not every man was meant to be a soldier. At least he could finally rest in Sovngarde, Baldur thought.

Baldur saw a black mass begin to drop towards his direction. Baldur was ready and itching for a fight. He was pissed off at what the cat did to that recruit, and was determined to take a pound of fur and flesh out from this cat for his sacrifice. He rolled forward to appear behind the khajiit after he landed and swung his axe backwards, hoping to catch the khajiit off guard. He held his shield arm ready to block a counter strike in case of a counter.

Hurry up and make your move, Witch King... thought Baldur. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

Landing down near the Captain, Do'jhul noticed he disappeared. He must've dodged my attack. Clever... for a Nord. Do'jhul then felt a presence behind himself and instinctively dodged out of the way. He saw the Captain with his shield raised and inching toward him. I need a weapon! An opportunity presented itself when a Nord wielding a greatsword rushed at Do'jhul. Dodging the swing, Do'jhul quickly came up and slashed at the Nord's face, ripping the skin off of his head. The Nord screamed in pain reeling from the attack, Do'jhul picked up the man's greatsword and used it like a regular sword and cleaved the Nord's head in two. 

Turning around to face the Captain, Do'jhul smiled and said, "It's good to face a worthy opponent", and then burst forward in a thrust attack aiming for the Captain's chest... 


Baldur raised his shield to block the thrust the Khajiit had sent his way. The impact actually damaged the shield, but it did it's job. The sword knocked some of the bolts out of the shield, and the wooden planks inside came undone and fell out. Baldur was tired of losing men, and decided that he'd hold off the cat himself until Witchie decided to get off of his ass and attack.

"Men, stand back! Block off the cat's exit and watch for the enemy."

Baldur was pissed. He sent forty men after one opponent and they couldn't lay a finger on him. He was simply too fast and too strong for them to get at him. The only way they were going to get him was to take advantage of his overconfidence, and catch him off guard. Witchie must have been preparing some spell or something, but whatever he was doing, he needed to hurry up soon. Baldur thought about calling out his other men, but this was now a matter of honor. The cat had embarrassed his men, and sending anymore soldiers would just lower their morale further. No, Baldur would stop him with the men he had, or not at all. He figured if the cat could defend himself from 40 men plus a Captain and a witch, plus archers on top of a fort, he deserved to stay free. So he did battle with him, and tried not to feel too bad about the situation. Afterall, this beast was no ordinary enemy.

Baldur wondered at first why the archers ceased their firing. A look at his shield, and one of he dead soldiers showed why. The cat was just to fast to hit, and it caused some of them to hit our own guys.

"No more fucking around."

Baldur threw down his ruined shield, and picked up a second axe off of the ground. After that, he stood with his axes ready for the cat's next assault. Baldur began to sing as the battle continued to try and annoy the khajiit.

"A new rug for my quarters and a body to plunder,
You'll find that I'm stronger than recruits and a dunmer!
Baldur Red-Snow, from the city of Bruma,
My stones are as large as Masser and Secunda,
From your mother's bosom, you still drink secretions,
Its to be expected from a cat in the Legion,
I'll shave off your whiskers with my axe in one stroke,
I'm no milk drinking kitty, I'm a bloody Stormcloak!" 

Do'jhul looked at the Stormcloak Captain quizzically. Starting to laugh, Do'jhul said, "Hahaha, you Nords are funny. Even now when you're getting beat, you still try to throw around jokes to taunt your enemies", as he laughed Do'jhul walked closer to the Nord and stopped right in front of him. The Nords head came to about Do'jhul's upper abdomen. Dropping the greatsword on the ground, Do'jhul looked down at the Nord and said, "I admire your courage, Nord. You have me." 

Baldur was a bit disappointed that the cat decided to give up before their battle. He really wished to prove his combat skills against this warrior khajiit, but it was not to be so. The cat dropped his weapons and proclaimed the battle was over. It wasn't exactly how he wanted this situation to go down, but he did catch himself a valuable prisoner. The odds after all were against him, if he stayed to fight, but in all honesty the cat probably could have just took off, try his luck and run if he really wished. That is, if Baldur didn't decide to send out more troops, which Baldur did not plan to because it would have been too embarrassing. But the cat didn't know that. "I guess we didn't need Witchie afterall. Fine, come wi..."

A piercing screech filled Baldur's ears. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

WItch-king (aka Witchie)
Fort Neugrad

Baldur had just given the signal. Witchie ordered the men to move forward quickly and quietly. He wanted to get the drop on the khajiit. The captain started to send out more men to face the khajiit who had thrown his weapon and shield to the ground. But it didn't help the men though as the khajiit was tearing them apart with his claws. When he saw how the khajiit tore the men apart he hurried up even more. Witchie was almost on top of the khajiit when he rushed to the fort, jumped up the wall and landed besides captain.


He let the mist fall, he would need the magicka. And started to run towards the fort. As the khajiit was too fast for projectile spells he was going to use a spell that would affect the entire area. But he didn't have time to designate who it would affect so it would simply affect everyone except himself. He prepared the spell as he ran into the fort. The captain had already traded some blows with the khajiit. He ran up the wall and was right behind the khajiit when he released the spell. He yelled as the spell turned his voice into an piercing shriek that caused everyone to drop to the ground holding their ears in agony. While shriek still lingered in the air he ran up the khajiit who was laying on the ground covering the ears like everyone else and pointed the tip of his sword at the cat's throat. Pressing the blade so hard against the cat's skin that it was on the brink of cutting the throat right open.
He was almost out of magicka though, so he reached with his empty hand into the robe and grabbed a magicka crystal. Magicka crystals are simply crystalized magicka, it was a common practice in the days of old that mages stored their magicka as crystals as a reserve. Though it was a tricky process and much magicka often went to waste in the creation of the crystals. Even adept mages could only store enough magicka to fuel the most simple novice spells. How common this practice was in this age he did not know.
He released the magicka inside and felt as the crystal crumbled in his grasp. With this new magicka he quickly made use of the frost enchantment on his sword and formed a collar of ice around the khajiit's neck.

"If you try anything..." he said with the coldest voice he could muster. 


Link to comment
Share on other sites

This topic is now closed to further replies.
  • Create New...