Civil War Aftermath Chapter 2: War of the Sundered Dragon

[The Good Doctor]

Dales Motierre, General Tullius, Baldur Red-Snow, Afternoon, Falkreath

 

Dales, loudly and swiftly , knocked on the flap of her master's tent,

"Master, Master you there?

"Yes, do you have questions about today's lesson?" 

"Nope, i'm leaving to Falkreath basically right now."

"Already? Come in, I will give you some advises before you leave."

The princess walked into her masters tent, and took a seat.

"What advice?"

"On how to behave, or rather act. These aren't some spineless nobles you'll be meeting. First, don't giggle. Second, if you speak with any of them, look them in the eye and don't flinch for a second. Show no sign of uncertainty or fear. And choose your words carefully."

"Okay, so basically act like Lorgar and you?"

"Just skip Lorgar's short temper and you'll be fine. And hide the dagger. Hopefully you will be able to handle these few days alone."

"I will, you've taught me so much master, how to defend myself and make use of my abilities. I hope I've lived up to your expectations..."

"You progress well. But you still have only come a third of the way. My elite were were called Wraiths for a reason. And I will have to find something else to do when you're gone. At least your maids will stay here."

"Miku is coming with me."

"Damn, she was the nicest of them. She wont like it though. Everyone in the camp knows about the Stormcloaks' incident in Whiterun."

"Yes I know. Lorgar and Tullius tell me, while it did happen, it was greatly exaggerated though. Can you speak honestly though, how much danger am I in?" 

"That depends on how well Gracchus will manage. If he doesn't screw up I would say it would be close nonexistent, if he does... lets just say that you should keep your dagger with you at all time."

She nodded her head, "I will..."

She went in for a hug with Witchie, but hesitated for a moment.

He patted her on the head, "If you want a goodbye hug then go ahead. But don't make it into habit. And give my regards to Miku." 

She brought him into a bear hug, and buried her face in his shoulder,

"Goodbye master, thanks for everything."

Later that Day, 

“Tullius, OH Tullius?”

I cant ******* take this! give me ******* Thalmor assassins, Stormcloak shock troopers, or even ******* imperial legionaries, **** THIS.

“Yes your highness?” Said General Tullius, politely and civilly, to Princess Dales Moitre, who was walking in her hunting garb, beside one of her maids, Miku, in the Pine forests of Falkreath. They were on there way to the Stormcloak held town of Falkreath.

“Will the Nords be polite to me?”

Oh I don’t know, you are the ******* heir to the imperial throne, are an important person and will lead  betterment and fate of two countries, and also a girl?

“They may be a little rude or rough, but Nords are rude and rough to just about everyone, including to themselves, so don’t take offence if they are a tad bit.”

She cheerfully nodded her head, “Okay!”

The three continued to walk in silence for a good twenty minutes, until once again; Dales asked Tullius another question,

“Will I be alone most of the time?”

How the **** am I suppose to know that?

“I don’t know milady, the Nords aren’t known to be social with strangers” Tullius muttered under his breath, “And political hostages”

“What was that General?”

“Nothing milady..”

Just then Dales maid, Miku, wrapped her arms around the Princess waist, bringing her into a hug,

“Don’t worry General Tullius, I’ll keep the princess company”

The dark smile erupting from Miku’s face, read like, “I’ll keep the princess A LOT of company”

Regardless Tullius didn’t like it, and Dales didn’t seem to notice it, as she said, “I can always count on you Miku.”

“I’ll always be here for you milady.”

Yeah more like, I’ll always be here for you when you want to have company in bed!

Tullius knew Miku had lustful thoughts for Dales, since she AHEM “groped her” on the prefix of “˜fixing her” braw early. Not to mention she had been hitting on both Tullius the entire trip. They finally got into the view of the gates of Falkreath, he motioned for the two Bretons to crouch down, they complied. Tullius, cloaked but with his hood down, approached the main gate before calling out to the soldier on duty,

“Guardsmen, tell your CO, “General One-eye has arrived with the package!!!”

 

Boldir stood by the river at the edge of town. He'd just been informed that Lod had finished putting in the bars under the wall so nobody could swim in or out anymore. Content with how it looked, he walked along the wall back toward the town proper. As he neared the main street, a guard shouted down to him from the gate.

"Captain!"

Boldir looked up. "What is it?"

"General...err... One Eye is here with the package sir."

Boldir climbed the stairs and looked down. Sure enough, Tullius stood at the gate with two young girls, one of which Boldir assumed must've been the princess. 
"Let them in."

The gate opened, and Tullius nodded his head to the two bretons signalling them to proceed, the person presumably Princess Dales, walked with absolute confidence and strict posture. She wore a high quality hunting outfit, and wore her golden hair loose across her shoulder. She had deep blue eyes, the other girl , presumably her maid, walked slightly nervous, only inches away from her lady.   

Boldir walked down to meet them. After last night, he was pretty tired. He hasn't even tried to go back to sleep after the fire.
"Baldur and Rebec should be with us shortly. We can wait for them in the Longhouse."

Tullius nodded his head, and the trio went behind him walking to the longhouse without a word.

Rebec came out of the jail, still angry from interrogating the saboteur.  She went to the longhouse to look for Boldir, then stopped as she saw who was entering.  "Jaws of Oblivion.  Look what the horker dragged in.  Half-Pint and a halfwit princess."  She didn't say it to anyone in particular, though didn't say it very quietly, either.

Baldur who had followed Rebec in was equally surprised, even though he remembered Tullius told him not to be.

"I can't believe it. You all actually went through with it. Either this is a fake, or you're actually serious afterall...How do I know this is the Princess? Surely the Princess wouldn't look this...stereotypical...shall we say."

 Seemingly ignoring Rebec's comment , the 'princess' starred at Baldur straight in the eyes with her deep blue eyes, without any fear or hesitation, and spoke in a clear and polite tone.

"You must be General Red-snow, I am Princess Dales Moitre, third in line for the imperial throne." She politely courtesy him, before adding, with a joking tone,

"I request you give me a chance before judging me by my appearance General."

The sight of the rugged General next to the pristine Princess was like seeing day and night right next to each other at the same time. Baldur wasn't really sure what to think of the girl or if he could take her seriously, but his main concern was if she was in fact the Princess.

Only one way to find out. Let's see what Tullius's reaction is.

Baldur quickly spun the Princess around and wiped out his axe and grabbed her while holding the axe-blade to her neck so if she tried to move, she'd be cut and shocked by the axe's enchantment. Baldur blew the Princess's annoying fluffy golden locks out of his face so he could see Tullius's reaction.

Tullius instantly, drew his Nordic War axe and Ebony imperial blade, and went into his duel-wield fighting pose. The maid screamed out in fear and rushed behind Tullius. The 'princess'...didn't even flinch , her face remained calm and serene, and she merely told Tullius.

"Gaius, put down your weapons, General Red-Snow, i implore you to put down your war axe."

Baldur was somewhat satisfied. Tullius at least seemed to believe this was the Princess, and Baldur was sure that as a General, he'd have seen her before.

I guess he could be acting, but I don't see a reason for him to have saved me just to capture me again.

"Alright, put down your weapons. I had to be sure. You understand, Tullius. Now, I was going to have her put in a cell, but as of right now, all the cells are occupied with other prisoners, and I'm sure you wouldn't want her with a prisoner. Rebec, what do you suggest we do?"

Rebec had made space to watch the spectacle, and seemed to be enjoying it, for all that the purpose of this "audience" was very serious.

At Baldur's question, she was stymied.  "Don't expect me to babysit her, if that's what you're thinking.  I suppose she can take Tekla's room, since Lorgar cleared that out for her.  This place is guarded well enough, though the command center will be off limits.  I hope you don't mind living in a murdered woman's quarters, princess."  The admiral's tone makes it clear that she doesn't really care what the princess minds.

"No I dont mind." Said the Princess.

"That sounds good to me. I'll up the security with Grim Ones, and you and the maid can stay in there. For now however, we should talk. I have some questions that need answering. You can follow me for a while. I just deal with townsfolk as of late. But afterwards you stay in that room under lock and key." said Baldur. "Care to come along, Rebec, or do you have plans?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this," Rebec replied.

Baldur playfully pushed her on the shoulder.

"Oh hush before I make you guard the two tonight. Boldir, did you get my message about the town meeting later?"

Boldir nodded. "Already got people working on it." He eyed the princess. Not quite sure what to make of her. "I'll be waiting in the Longhouse. Got some things to take care of." He nodded at Baldur and Rebec before turning to head off.

The Princess nodded her head sternly at Baldur, and went behind him. She glanced at her maid, who was sweating and looking terrified, a touch from Dales hand is all she needed to calm down, Dales quietly told her,

"It's going to be alright Miku, your safe with me."

"Yes... milady"

Rebec glanced over at the maid and snorted, shaking her head.  "What do milk drinkers call a milk drinker?" she asked Baldur, posing a philosophical question.

That, caused Dales to speak in a slightly annoyed tone,

"She's very frighted, I request you don't make fun of her Admiral."

"This is a war zone and she and you have been sent to help imprison and torture Nords for worshipping the wrong god.  Time to buck up, miladies," Rebec answered, not bothering to conceal her derision.

While remaining very polite, Dales voice filled with what seemed like cold fury,

"Buck up? I've killed a highly trained dominion assassin with only a knife, I've been stabbed threw the stomach multiple times, I've seen someone very close to me get impaled on a dominion sword and die in my arms. I think already BUCKED up, admiral." 

Baldur thought about interfering but decided against it. The conversation sounded fun, and he wanted to hear Rebec in action.

"Fascinating," Rebec answered, her tone bored.  "Sounds like a good start.  What'd you even bring her for if she wilts at the sight of Nords?  We only asked Tullius for you.  Now we've got another mouth to feed.  You scrawny things always eat twice your weight."

"Oh deary, you think she's afraid of nords? Too be quite blunt with you admiral, she's afraid the soldiers are going to rape her like how they did in Whiterun with the woman."

"So, you brought her here in hopes the bad Stormcloaks take her instead of you?  Good plan.  Maybe you're not as dumb as you look."  Rebec turned away, and with her back turned to the others mouthed silently to Baldur, "Where's Witchie?"

Baldur leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"In the Imperial camp still."

Baldur decided it was time to start asking some questions.

"So, Princess...why are you doing this now? Why do you hate the Thalmor? And Your father?"

"Clarify. Do you want me to tell you the official story, or the truth?"

"Save the horker shit, please. I've had my fill of Imperial lies. So the truth." said Baldur.

The princess started to speak,

"I'm doing this for multiple reasons, primary because my people are being weighted down by the corrupt nobles, while they have parties and other social gatherings, people are starving in the streets and mellowing in filth, Second, because the dominion is expanding it's dark and corrupt influence across the empire's policies, you people wouldn't know, but my father is about to pass a bill with the elder council that allows a dominion troops access to the imperial city, thirdly..." She stopped speaking for a second, before saying "Vengeance. Why do I hate the thalmor?  Well they murdered the girl I loved, whom I knew most of my life, who and was the only one who really took care of me when I was younger, they sent assassins after me,  they've caused the deaths of hundreds of imperial citizens and imperial soldiers, and of course they used me as an unwitting pawn to further there own ends. Why do I hate my father...hmmm let's see, he constantly raped my mother when I was younger, occasionally making me watch, beat me up with my two brothers, and would occasionally cut me with across my stomach with a razor blade, and he left me to the mercy of the dominion more times then not, and brainwashed me..." 

"Do I have sufficient motives for trying to make a difference General?

Baldur was a bit suspicious of the sudden change, so he desided to question her further.

"If this worm was such a monster, why'd you wait until now to go against your father? What interest would the Thalmor have in your...girl lover?"

"They didn't they just killed her in cold blood, despite me being the target, just because she was human....and...I was afraid of him"

"And why were they after you? I think Tullius mentioned it, but I forgot." said Baldur trying to remember.

" I was refusing to sign any more of the documents they requested me too... Also because...I was being noisy...I was requested very...unusual information from them..."

Baldur raised an eyebrow at the response, genuinely curious.

"What kind of information?"

Rebec listened to this account with folded arms, skeptical but not interfering.

"Ummmm...I was asked by a...Prefect Grim-maw, an imperial specialist, to see what the rucus around the dominion camp was... apparently it was...you General.

Baldur didn't know wht to think of the Princess's answer, but he didn't quite believe it.

"I don't think so. Lorgar wouldn't send the Princess of the Empire to investigate something on the Thalmor."

"You know Prefect Grim-maw?"

Baldur gave a chuckle at the question as if everyone should have known about it.

"Yes, you can say that I know him. His men and mine had a little tussle half a year ago. I'm the reason why he lost his rank of Legate.

"Oh? I didn't know that."

She looked sad for a moment,

"I was at the ceremony where he was stripped of his rank. I wasn't really affected by it, Emperor Moitre told me he was a "Traitor" and they only sparred him to send a message." She chuckled and smiled a bit, "The fact of the manner is without him, I would be dead"

"And now big bad Lorgar's had a change of heart, too.  You couldn't all have had these epiphanies on the other side of the Pale Pass, could you," Rebec said, shaking her head.

Baldur couldn't believe it, but he actually got defensive for Lorgar. Something he never thought he'd ever do.

"Yes, those sons of ******* have no idea what real war is like. The man is my enemy, but he's no coward. Yes, he told me about that. And he's not a traitor to Cyrodiil. Motierre's the damn traitor. They say a man can be judged by the quality of his enemies. Lorgar's no coward. I can at least say that much about him, if nothing else. One last thing. Who asked you for the info on the Dominion camp? The truth. We are working together now after all."

She put her hands up, "If you think me insulting Lorgar and thinking he a coward, I can assure you I think the exact opposite. He saved my life from Imperial assassins, and I consider him a close friend and ally."

She hesitated for a second, before answering Baldur's question, "A nord named Skajr, my...teacher."

"Skjar? What does he look like?" asked Baldur

"He wears a black robe along with a hood, if you know Lorgar, then you know his hood cloaks his face in shadow, the effect is very similar to what my teacher's hood does when he puts it up. He teaches me magic and swordplay."

Baldur realized immediately who she was talking about. He made sure to keep his facial expression the same so that the Princess wouldn't know he knew him.

Why the hell is Witchie training this girl in magic and swordplay? Is he responsible for this somehow?

"Hmm, doesn't sound familiar. Well, that's all the questions I have for you. Go back to the Longhouse. I don't think I need to escort you back, do I? If you don't go straight to your room...."

Baldur dashed towards Dale's maid so that his face was directly in front of her, and he put on his most angry barbaric look that he could.

"Then one of my boys may decide to have a little fun with you!"

The maid's, Miku, face instantly went pale  and her face dripped with terror and fear. She slowly nodded her head, before turning around, and literally scrambled after Dales, Baldur could see her grabbing Dales arm and moving thrice the speed back to the longhouse.

Rebec chuckled and laid a hand on her husband's back.  "You're getting to like those theatrics as much as the imperials, Baldur.  Come on.  We need to find this other traitor."

 

Later that night,

 

Dales lay motionless in her bed, snuggled next to her was Miku, clad in her undergarments and disturbing close to her body. Dales  felt surprisingly good beside her, if a little worried . When they got to the room, Miku was crying for hours, and Dales was there comforting Miku for hours. Her fear of being violated by the Stormcloaks was genuine, and General Red-snow's rude "jokes" was not helping matters at all. When Miku asked to sleep in Dales bed tonight, Dales while worried herself, wouldn't turn her down. Surprisingly, Miku hadn't hit on her or made any suggestive move on her once and just held onto her the entire evening searching for warmth.  A slight voice came from the dark room,

"You wont let them rape me, will you milady?"

Dales smiled and softly tussled her hair,

"I won't. I promise Miku, just go to sleep."

[The Good Doctor]

Quaestor Pilus Rato 

Imperial Camp

Day 5-7 of Siege

 

Pilus had taken a horse, a small cart, and went on a hunting trip deep into the forests west of the camp.

Gracchus wanted to make sure out supplies were stocked in case this meeting went awry, so he sent me, as usual. I guess I can't complain too much, it's not like there is a shortage of deer in the area. I may even run into a bear if I'm lucky, Pilus thought.

Pilus had arrived right an hour before sunset on the fifth day of the siege, and had set his camp, set into a small cave like structure, up within view of a small clearing, with a large rock outcropping on one side and a small spring fed creek running west. His bedding was up in the tree, away from any animals that might want a midnight snack. He noticed many deer, rabbit, and what looked like wolf tracks in the clearing, so Pilus decided to set up his camp close enough by that he could see the clearing through the trees, but far enough away that he could remain hidden. 

Pilus decided to not hunt the night he got there, but rose early and set himself up in brush patch he had hollowed out to conceal him. He spent the better part of the afternoon there, until a group of does wandered into the edge of the clearing. Pilus waited, and sent the ice spike into its side. The other does fled, and the kicking of the downed animal stopped.

Pilus repeated the routine he had done a few days earlier, and hauled the gutted corpse to his camp. The rest of the day he thought, read, and lounged around. He slept soundly from his platform he built in the lower branches of a tree.

The next day, Pilus returned to the bush blind. Not a single animal showed up, that is until a large brown bear lumbered into the clearing. Pilus' heart was pounding, knowing that in one swipe it could knock him unconscious, a sleep from which he wouldn't wake.

The bear sniffed the air, raising onto its hind legs, it's head quizzically turning left and right as its nostrils alerted it to some danger. Just as it sank back to all fours, a pack of wolves skulked its way out of the shadows. The wolves leader, a large black beast, circled the bear warily, as his pack fanned out around it. Without any warning, one of the wolves leaped at the bear, it's fangs sinking into the furry flank of the monster. Pivoting, the bear slung the wolf off, but that allowed the three remaining to pounce from where the bear had been facing. 

The fangs' of the wolves tore at the bear, leaving patches of fur and skin missing. The bear, in its huge might, raised up, and gouged one of the wolves with its brown paw, sending it whimpering into submission. The pack leader backed off, the others following, before licking the wounds of the injured wolf and heading back into the forest. The bear soon left as well, headed in the opposite direction, both thankfully away from his camp.

That'll be an interesting story to tell. I'm just glad I made it out of here in out piece. 

Pilus left, not wanting to chance his luck any further, and set out an hour later from his camp. Along the way, he came upon another doe, whom he snagged and added to the cart. After several hours of travel, and arriving late at night, Pilus reached the Imperial camp. He dropped off both the horse and the deer, and managed to find some rest in his tent.

The next day, he awoke to find Gracchus seated on a stool outside, warming himself by the fire.

"How'd the hunting go?" Gracchus asked.

"Fine. I grabbed to does, and saw a wolf pack attack a bear. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?" Pilus inquired.

Gracchus reached closer to the fire, and tugged his cloak up higher on his shoulders. "The princess is leaving today, and we will soon discover if the plan of ours is going to work. Gods preserve us of it doesn't."

Pilus simply nodded.

And I hope for everyone's sake it does. We need this plan to work, and so does every other man on Nirn.

[The Good Doctor]

Baldur and Boldir
Falkreath
Day 7 of siege, Late evening

Boldir looked down on the assembled crowd of civilians. This was fairly new to him, as he was used to crowds of soldiers looking up at him, not civilians. He stood beside Baldur, who was about to speak. The thousands of civilians were not disciplined like the soldiers. The sound of them speaking all together boomed across the town. He held up his hands and shouted.

"Quiet!"

The front few rows quieted down and began shushing those behind them. Soon, it spread all across the crowd and ended in silence.

"Thank you. Now, our leader, General Red-Snow has a few words for all of you regarding rationing and last night's events, which I'm sure you all heard of by now. Refrain from speaking until he's done." Boldir backed up and nodded at his friend. "All you."

Baldur made sure to keep his sternest expression on at all times so they'd know he was serious. He turned to Boldir, and nodded before stepping forward.

"Before I begin, I would like to say that I am NOT in the mood for extra comments. You will hear what I am saying and shut the hell up until I have finished speaking...or you will spend the night in the special cell of the prison. The one reserved for our best guests. Now...as you all know, there were several civilians caught running away from a fire that was set on our supplies. Two of them were captured, but the rest were still at large. Now, first I will say that I am offering a bounty on everyone's head involved with the fire of eight hundred gold a piece. Alive. Second, since I don't have them and I can't have civilians taking it upon themselves to sabotage for the enemy, there WILL be consequences for all for their actions. Well...almost all."

Baldur ceased speaking so that his words would carry extra weight.

"Now, I know a few of you have been asking about joining up, and because of that, I have decided to start a militia. The Imperials outnumber us two to one, so I will need at least 1800-2000 willing men and women to join our cause. Next to this platform is the large amount of weapons and armor I had brought for this very purpose. Anyone from the age of 14 and up who can pick up a sword is welcome. Now, if I don't get the numbers that I need, I have the authority to conscript for the rest. Hopefully I won't have to do that. Now we get to the punishment. I know a lot of you here still resent the Stormcloaks, and you are all potential liabilities. Because of that and the actions from last night, civilian rations will be lowered even further. HOWEVER, those of you who join the militia will not only have your rations unaffected by those actions, but you will have normal full rations given to you for your loyalty and bravery. That is all. Any questions?"

Someone shouted from the crowd.

"That's no fair! You can punish us for what a couple of people did!"

Boldir couldn't see who said it, but he shouted back. "We can and we are! It's time you people stopped acting like we are a burden on your town. We are in the middle of a damn war! It seems like most of you don't even realize that if it weren't for us, you'd all be in Dominion hands right now!"

At the mention of the Dominion, the crowd broke into quiet murmuring, none of which Boldir could make out. They knew about the Dominion army backing up the Imperials, didn't they? Surely. He continued. "And you should not blame us for your rations going down. Blame the cowards that burned a forth of our food! Cowards that hide among you even now!"

As he said this, Boldir scanned the crowd, trying to see if anyone made any unique reactions that could give them away. Most looked angry, whether at the Stormcloaks or the traitors was anybody's guess. But there were too many faces for him to spot anybody that actually stood out. That would've been too easy. 
"Of course, that won't be a problem for anyone who joins our militia."

Another angry voice sounded from the crowd. Boldir couldn't see where it came from, but it sounded like it came from near the back. "This is horker shit! You're not letting us leave, but you force us to follow your rules!"

Baldur stood back up on the platform to back up his friend. After he did, he hopped down again seeing a kid in the crowd at the front and thought it was a perfect opportunity. He told the boy to come forward onto the stage, and gave him a hand up.

"What's your name, son?"

'M-my name's Bjorn. Can I join the militia?"

Baldur chuckled at the little boy's request, and hoped one day he'd have a son just like him.

"I'm sorry, but I think you may be too young. Hey, can you do me a favor? Help me take off my armor."

"O-okay, sir."

The boy gladly obeyed Baldur, seeing him as a hero because of his parent's words, and started helping him take his chest piece off after Baldur took his gauntlets off. After a few seconds some of the men started laughing.

"Hey, is this a peep show? What the hell is he doing?"

Baldur started laughing himself for a minute, and still had a smile on his face when he and the boy finally removed the top section of his armor off, revealing his chest and back. The boy reeled back from him, afraid of the scarred mess that was displayed before him.

When Baldur turned around, the crowd went silent, some of the women gasping at the grizzly sight on his back. The people on the left who couldn't quite see asked what all the hubbub was about. Baldur answered by turning his exposed back to them as well, and got the same gasps and even some squeals from the crowd.

"You see? Take a look. Take a good long look. You want to walk out that door? Fine. Be my guest. The Imperials may not keep you, but the Thalmor will. This is what happened to me last time I was in their custody. You like it? You want some matching scars to go on your husband's backs? Your wives? On children like Bjorn? Then be my guest. Step right through that gate and give them my regards.Until the Imperials start killing those elves, you are no safer with them than you are with the Thalmor!"

Baldur was careful to add that last part in, still unsure if the Imperials were serious about fighting the elves, but he wanted to still have an open window for them in case they did.

The crowd remained silent. For the most part, these people didn't know war. They didn't understand the brutality of it. Seeing the scars of it on Baldur's back was enough to sway most people to their side. Boldir could tell this from the changing faces of many in the crowd. Looks of fear and frustrated anger turned to looks of determination. But as would be expected, no one spoke. Of course they didn't. How do you respond to something like that with words? Well done, Baldur.
As Bjorn went back down off the stage, Boldir spoke to Baldur at his normal volume. "I think you've got your militia."

Baldur while reapplying his armor looked to Boldir and smiled.

"Yes, looks like the Thalmor gave us a gift eh? Hopefully we won't need them. But safe is better than sorry. If this meeting goes south, you now have the tools you need to finish this battle."

Boldir realized what Baldur was saying. "Am I not to go with you then?"

Baldur put his hand on the huge nord's shoulder.

"I'm sorry friend. I need you to stay behind in case something goes wrong to lead the men. Don't worry, with the Princess in our custody, I should be fine. But you never know. Rebec and I will go, and either return with good news, return with bad news...or we won't return at all. But I wouldn't risk my wife's life unless I was damn sure we'd be safe. Believe me on that. I'll be back before you can say Nerevarine. I said that to Rebec before I was captured, and I swear she still can't pronounce it right, haha!"

Boldir looked puzzled. "Neryvaah-what now? What in the blazes does that even mean?"

Baldur busted out laughing at Boldir's very similar reaction to the word. "Hahaha, now you're making me nervous! That's exactly how Rebec sounded before I was captured. Hopefully history does not repeat itself. But as long as you can't repeat that word, that means I'll still be coming back."

"This time, come back without new scars, okay?"

Baldur's face grew serious, remembering Jodun's last works, then he thought about what he'd do if he were to get in trouble with Rebec around him. He knew he'd sacrifice himself to let her escape. So he knew the answer he had to give Boldir instantly.

"No promises, Boldir."

Boldir nodded at his friend. No more words needed to be said. He looked out into the crowd, which was growing chatty, and then blurred it all out as his mind wandered to the Longhouse, where the princess was being held.

For her sake, he better come back unharmed.

Even if it's Baldur, would you really hurt that girl for something out of her control?

Without hesitation, Carlotta.

[The Good Doctor]

Boldir Iron-brow
Falkreath Longhouse
Day 7 of siege, night

Boldir did not retire to his room until several hours after Baldur's assembly. Since then, he'd been keeping busy dealing with civilians wanting to join the militia. He didn't bother to be neat with his armor as he stripped out of it, and instead just left it piled in the corner.

"You know it was pronounced "Nere-var-ine" right?"

Yeah, Thanks Jodun. I'll chat with all the voices in my head in the morning. Alrig-

"Wait... How could a voice in my head possibly know that?"

"I'm not in your head."

A cold chill went down Boldir's back as he turned to the flute Jodun had given him, which still sat in his satchel on the desk.

It can't be the... "Jodun?"

Nothing. Forget it. I'll worry about this tomorrow.

Boldir layed down and closed his eyes.

Maybe I can get another good dream... I could use... Boldir was asleep before he finished his thoughts.
 

***

Whiterun
 

Boldir's heart thudded in his chest as he prepared for the day. He had never in his life felt so anxious, nervous, and happy, all at the same time. It was still early in Whiterun, and the traders and craftsmen would all just now be starting to set up for the day.

As he shuffled through his belonging in a chest, Boldir spotted his lucky flute. He sat on his bed. Years ago, his friend Beirlan had given it to him, not long before falling in battle himself. It was a simple enough instrument, a flute with the fancy inlays that were typically found on anything considered modern Nordic in design. This flute had been with Boldir for many years. This past month with Carlotta, it had become far more valuable to him. He'd played it for her countless times. Eventually, she got to where she'd lean on him as he played slower tunes. But that was mostly when Mila wasn't around. When Mila was there, he'd play the faster and more upbeat ones, which Carlotta would smile and hum along with while Mila tried to make up songs to go along.

This instrument has seen the best of me.

Boldir smiled and put the flute into his satchel, which he fastened to the back of his belt. He almost reached for his war axe, more out of reflex than anything. He eyed the weapon, and the larger battle-axe behind it.

And you two have seen the worst.

He grabbed the war axe and slid it into his sheath. He may have been in a secure city, but he never traveled without a weapon. Boldir opened the top drawer of the dresser and pushed aside a book to reveal the amulet of Mara that laid beneath. He smiled as he picked it up and slid it over his head, making sure to carefully tuck it in under his tunic. Boldir crossed the room and grabbed his favorite wool cloak off of a rack and put it on before heading out.

~~~

Boldir was ecstatic. The nervousness was going away, but that was just fueling the anxiousness he felt. He'd intentionally avoided Carlotta all day, so that the next time they saw each other, it would be all he could remember of that day. Now it was evening, and Boldir watched from a distant bench as Carlotta and Mila went into the Bannered Mare for dinner. He stood up and followed. The inn was not particularly crowded when he entered, and they were in their usual spot in the front left corner of the main room. Carlotta said something to Mila when she saw Boldir approach the table. When she did, Mila got up and headed to the front counter.

"Hello Boldir!" She said cheerfully while passing by.

Boldir ruffled her hair before allowing her to go by. "Hello Mila." Boldir pulled out a chair beside Carlotta and sat with her at the table. She had a sad look in her eyes. "Everything alright Carlotta? Why did you send Mila to talk to Hulda when you saw me get here?"

"Oh, you noticed that... I figured... we needed to talk."

"Talk about what? Carlotta... I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Boldir reached under his tunic and pulled out the amulet of Mara, dropping it back on top. He looked Carlotta in the eyes, pleadingly. When she looked back, her own were filled with tears.

"Boldir... I may love you... But-"

"There's no 'may' Carlotta. You said yourself that you did. You can't just take that back."

"Boldir... I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you. After how good you've been to me." Tears were now running onto Carlotta's cheeks. "You have to understand. It's- it's Mila... I've sworn to myself and to her that I would never let a man come between us."

"But I wouldn't! Mila is like my own-"

"No, she isn't! You are a soldier Boldir! You would come into our lives, give Mila back a father. And then, when she's happy, you would to go off and die just like her real father. I can't put her through that again Boldir! I won't!"

Boldir felt like his chest had been kicked. "I don't-"

Carlotta's face hardened. "Are you going back to Falkreath?" 

He stammered. "Of course, you know I have to. I've taken oaths. To Ulfric, to Baldur..."

Carlotta sniffed, then nodded. "I understand, I do. But the answer is no."

Boldir didn't know how to respond. He thought there had been more. No! There had definitely been more! We'd have made it work! He wasn't sure if Carlotta was right or not. He wasn't even sure of his own state of mind right now. Everything just felt like a confusing blur. He could see that it wasn't just him. Or at least he didn't think it was. Carlotta was sniffing a lot now, and her eyes were red with tears, but she kept from crying.

"Carlotta..."

"Please, Boldir. Don-"

"I love you." Boldir ripped off the amulet of Mara and dropped it on the table before rising and leaving the room.
 

~~~

"Stupid Stormcloak drunks. Think they can get away with anything because they're the soldiers here now."

"What was that?!?"

Boldir turned around to see whoever it was that he'd overheard whispering about him. Idolaf Battle-Born was sitting in a char near the corner of the Drunken Huntsman. He was with some other Nord Boldir had never seen before.

"Uhh nothing. Sorry."

Boldir rose from his own seat by the counter.

"No! I heard you say something! Didn't I?!?"

Yeah, you did. That Battle-Born prick has always hated Stormcloaks.

"See?? Baldur heard it too!"

Idolaf looked confused. He put up his hands and gestured to the great number of empty mead bottles strewn around where Boldir had been sitting.

"I think you've had a little too much to drink tonight. So why don't we just-"

"Don't you fucking try to tell me what to do!"

Boldir threw his half empty bottle at Idolaf. It broke on his shirt, spilling glass and mead all over him, as well as likely bruising a rib or two.

"Boldir!" Elrindir, the tavern's owner, tried to calm him down. Boldir turned and pointed a finger at him.

"Don't you fucking cross me elf! This is between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials!!! Right Baldur?

"What?!? This is just a tavern! Who is Baldur?! You're too drunk sir!"

Boldir drew his war axe, causing everyone in the room to freeze.

"Not another word from you!" He replaced the axe and turned back to Idolaf.

"Stand up you milk drinking coward!"

Both of them!

"Yeah, good idea! Both of you, stand up!"

Idolaf and his friend got up from their seats and looked at each other. Idolaf nodded. They both ran at Boldir at the same time, hoping to throw him off in his drunken state. Before they'd closed the distance, Boldir uppercutted the friend straight back into the table he'd been at, causing it to collapse. Idolaf managed to get a solid punch on Boldir's left eye before being lifted up and slammed him hard onto the ground.

Do whatever it takes to win. Make an example of this one and the others will fall in line.

Boldir got down on top of Idolaf and punched him hard in the face. Then again, and again. He did not stop until his own hands were covered in blood. He screamed in the traitor's face.
After much too long, Boldir climbed to his feet. With his hands still covered in blood, he turned to Elrindir and spoke loudly but with a commanding voice. "Give me another mead. I spilled mine."

He went to sit down. As he did, Elrindir nervously handed him another bottle. Boldir drained it in seconds. "More."
Once again, he downed the mead in seconds. "More."

This time, as Boldir neared the bottom of the bottle, his vision began to blur far worse than he'd ever remembered it getting while drunk. He slammed the empty bottle down. "M-" Boldir slid from his chair. His vision had faded black before he ever hit the ground.
 

***
 

"Whoa!"

Boldir shot up. He looked out his window. It was still dark. Probably early morning.

It was just a dream...

No it wasn't.

I know.

[The Good Doctor]

Legate Gracchus Ceno

Imperial Camp

Day 7 of Siege, Night
 

Gracchus had spent the day walking the camp, speaking with his troops to keep morale up, answering questions like, "What's next?" and "When will we be home?" Most of those questions he answered as gently as possible, encouraging his men that it would be over soon. He even visited the medical tents, and helped the overworked doctors and nurses. By the end of the day, he was tired and worn out, and was hopeful for a restful sleep. However he was interrupted by a dream, one totally different than the ones he had had before.

In his dream, Gracchus was walking through a field of wheat, not yet bundled together. A soft wind blew through, and rustled the crops. Up ahead was his house, or the charred ground where it used to stand. He ran through the field, and arrived at the still smoking ruins. Gracchus looked around, using his foot to dig underneath burned beams and furniture. Nothing was left, even the silverware was melted and gone.

What happened here? Where is everyone?

Gracchus turned to walk out of the house, when his foot kicked something. He looked down, and saw a white bone, charred but recognizable. It was laid out next to several others, and when Gracchus looked at them, they formed letter, spelling "HELP." A cold shiver went down his spine, and as he turned around to leave, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked, but no one was there. Gracchus ran through the field, and heard footsteps following him, getting closer and closer. He could see the edge, the end, the safe place up ahead, and ran faster to try and make it. Gracchus constantly glanced over his should, nervously looking for whatever was after him. A few steps away from the edge of the field, when two hands grabbed him from behind and threw him to the ground. Gracchus looked up, and saw the bones had reformed into a person, rattling as it stood over him.

In his mother's voice, the skeleton cried "Why didn't you help meeee? Where were youuu? Why did you abandon meeee?"

All Gracchus could do is watch, as the skeleton asked him these questions. He was unable to answer, but the skeleton went on.

"I'll make sure you never run again!"

The skeleton reached into the ground, and pulled out an iron sword. Grabbing the hilt, it plunged it downward towards Gracchus.

"Noooooo!!!!!"

Gracchus woke up, as the dream sword plunged into him. He was shaking, shaking so bad he couldn't use his hands to do anything. He eventually made his way out of bed, and saw the sun rising, casting its rays into the camp.

It's over now. It was just a dream. Just a dream....

[The Good Doctor]

Witchking (aka Witchie, alias Skjari), Lorgar
Imperial camp
Early night

It was around one o'clock in the morning, Lorgar approached Dales's maids tents, if Dales was to be trusted, then Witchie would he here during the night . His advance hearing told him something was going on in there, and due to all the giggling and moaning sounds, he didn't want to know. He coughed awkwardly, before knocking on the flap of the tent,

"You there Skjari?" 

Everything went quiet inside the tent and after a few seconds of silence Lorgar heard Witchie's voice from the inside of the tent, 

"Yes, what is it?"

"I need to speak with you...outside" Lorgar muttered under his breath, "and away from your 'concubines'."

"Give me a minute." the voices of disappointed women started to raise and soon Witchie came out of the tent dressed in his black robe, "I hope it's important."

"It is. I need your assistance, secret mission against the Thalmor." 

"That could be fun. You planning on bringing anyone else along?" 

"I'll use Karsh to contact my partner if we're in trouble. Our objective is the leader of the dominion camp, Colonel-Inquisitor Vandili. This operation has been sanctioned by Legate Gracchus Ceno and General Baldur Red-snow of the Stormcloak army." Knowing Witchie's hatred of elves, Lorgar added in, "No, we have to get him alive." 

"As long as he's alive you wont get your axe back. Just keep that in mind. And don't be rude to Karsh, or else he might decide not do as you say."

"Hey, last time he was the one rude to me. Where is the laughing bird anyway's?. I recommend saying good night to your...'Snuggle buddies'." said Lorgar mockingly, with a grin.

"Snuggle?" Witchie chuckled, "Anyway, Karsh comes only when I call or when he pleases." he then put his head inside the tent, "I'll be gone for some hours, bye." 

"Goodbye milord." could be heard from all the maids in unison from inside the tent, they sounded quite disappointed.

Witchie then put on the hood and the veil, "Shall we go?"

"Try to keep up with me..." Lorgar put on his dark hood, went into a stealthy and crouched position, and ran with super-natural speed and stealth to the dominion camp.

When Lorgar reached the edge of the camp Witchie was already there sitting on his black horse, barely visible in the shadows, "Try to keep up?"

Lorgar grumbled "That's cheating!!! I don't have a magical horse..." 

He signaled for Witchie to dismount and join him on the ground. He took out a map of the dominion camp, and stabbed his dagger into one of the area's.

"My sources tell me this is the Colonel's quarters...this is our objective..."

The horse ran deep into the woods after Witchie had dismounted and was soon out of view.

"That's practically the middle of the camp. This is going to be tricky." Witchie said. 

"I have a plan..." He pointed at a location, "We set fire to the alcohol storage and cause a distraction. Using the cover of that, we'll sneak to the command tent, and knock the bastard out."

"I think I can sneak in a flaming familiar into the storage. It will allow us to get some distance before the fire go off."

"Excellent we have a plan..." Lorgar checked to see if his equipment was ready, before saying, "Have you sneaked into a enemy camp, heavily garrisoned and fortified by extremist elven radicals before?"

"I think I lost count after fifty. It's the mages that can use detection spells that you need to worry about."

"The shadows hide me...Hircine does as well..." He smiled revealing his fang-like teeth.

"I would guess by your teeth, abilities and talking about Hircine that you're a half-breed werewolf. Got a scratch from one when you were young?"

Lorgar chuckled, "Calling me that would paint me very close to being regular in comparsion to what I am. I wont tell you what I am, but let's just I'm no more human then you are."

"Depends on what you consider human. I consider myself to just be a skilled mage that have not bound my soul to any higher power. But I can tell that your soul is at least linked to Hircine and that it's relatively close to that of a werewolf. But we can speak of that later, right now we got work to do."

"Agreed" Lorgar went back into his crouched position, and signaled Witchie to follow him, "Let's move."

Witchie followed and simply bent the shadows to become more intense around him, causing him to disappear from view. And Lorgar was also well hidden, as it almost seemed like the shadows were naturally drawn to him, cloaking him in the darkness. After carefully avoiding patrols, they finally came up to the alcohol store house. Lorgar signaled Witchie that they were there.

"Why do they need so much alcohol anyway?" Witchie whispered into Lorgar's ear. 

"I don't know, maybe elves like to drink as much as nords?"

"Maybe, I almost want to take a look inside to see what kind of alcohol they got there." he then proceeded to summon a flaming familiar and casting invisibility and muffle on the creature. Hopefully it wouldn't bump into any the sentries on it's way into the tent. 

"I think it's time to run away from the tent..."

Lorgar got no answer and soon he could see the grass turn on the ground like if someone stepped on it.

"Yeah..."

Logar closely followed the steps with his eyes, while remaining hidden. The steps kept going towards the storage and tent and was soon out of view when it walked around it towards the entrance that was on the other side. 

"Why are you still here? I had to come back just to get you." Witchie whispered. 

"We need to stick together...I know plenty of operations going sour because the soldiers were separated."

"I thought you were right behind me. And would really suggest we don't stick around to watch the blast. Now lets go before they notice that something is off in the storage tent."

He nodded, and speed walked stealthy out of the blast radius. When they had gone a good distance around the camp an explosion was heard in the distance. When they looked they could see a great ball of fire expanding into the night sky. 

"That was entertaining..." Lorgar said. 

"I've seen bigger." Witchie responded. 

"We still have to business to attend..."

"Of course." Witchie walked out of the shadows and turned his appearance into that of a Thalmor soldier. "You want a disguise too?"

"Why not..."

Witchie cast a spell at Lorgar that rendered his rugged looks into that of an ugly Thalmor soldier. Also causing his hiding to fail as the golden armor gleamed. 

"And here I thought you couldn't get any uglier. Now lets hurry while the chaos is still active."

Lorgar nodded, before heading into the direction of the command tent. Witchie followed while channeling a spell so that anyone who got too close to them would get a little forgetful, along with the chaos it heavily reduced their chances of getting caught.

They finally reached the tent after ten minutes of walking/speed-walking, Lorgar turned to his companion.

"How do you want to approach him?"

"You peek into the tent to see what were dealing with and I keep watch."

He nodded, his head.  He walked up to the entrance of the tent and peaked his head inside. There he was, Colonel Valindil clad in his black dominion robes. He had a glass of wine in his hands and was busy looking at a bunch of documents. He went back to Witchie and told him,

"He's looking at some documents and drinking wine."

"Lets knock him out and I'll disguise him as a normal Thalmor grunt. We'll then carry him through the camp like if we're going the medical tent and hopefully no one will notice."

"Agreed..." 

Lorgar nodded to Witchie, before opening the flap of the tent, the Colonrl, only seeing two Dominion soldiers, didn't even bother to worry. He simply said,

"Report-"

Lorgar interrupted by twisting his arm, and keeping him into a throat lock. Before he could cast any of his fancy magic, Lorgar had already injected a sleep/paralysis poison into the veins of his neck with his small needle. Witchie had kept watch and stood by tents entrance, peeking outside to see that no one really noticed when they walked in. The coast was clear. He then cast a spell at the altmer, turning his robes into elven armor. And then put the elf's left arm around his neck and Lorgar did the same with the right arm.

"Now lets hurry."

He nodded his head. To be expected, the plan worked flawlessly, no one raised any sort of suspicion or protest, and let the trio walk through the camp unhindered.

When they were just reaching the edge of the camp and was almost into the woods, they heard a voice yelling in some kind elven language closely behind them. They turned their heads around and saw that one of the elves had stopped and was now yelling at them about something, probably wondering what they were doing carrying an unconscious soldier into the woods. Lorgar, quickly and swiftly  drew one of his throwing knives and landed it into the eye of the dominion trooper, he landed with a thud.

"It's always something." Witchie said.

"We need to leave...burn the body..."

"Too late for that." 

More Thalmor soldiers were coming in their direction in the distance. So far they haven't noticed anything yet so Witchie cast another spell at the body, turning invisible instead.

Lorgar wrapped his arms around the kidnapped officer, before turning to Witchie and saying, "I'll meet you back at camp..."

"Go then, I'll stick around a little to see if they'll follow." 

Lorgar, nodded his head, Before chuckling and saying, "The package has been caught, Operation successful."

And with that, Lorgar ran into the woods, intent on delivering the prisoner to the imperial prison.

Witchie stayed behind the treeline to watch the Thalmor soldiers as they came closer to where the dead soldier lay. The would spot the corpse as soon as the invisibility spell had run it's course, if they did not stumble on it first. They came closer and they had almost passed the corpse when it turned visible. Most of the soldiers missed it except from the one that walked behind all the others. That soldier than signaled the others and they all went to investigate, they all soon drew their swords and one of them yelled at the others in their elven language. They spread out and was now walking towards the woods where Witchie remained hidden. 

It was time to withdraw. Witchie bent the shadows closer around him as he silently walked deeper into the woods. When the soldiers was soon out of sight his black horse came running and stopped right besides him. After he had mounted his horse the soldiers came into view again in the distance. They were widely spread out and now also far away from their camp. He turned the horse around and galloped around to their flank and charged them. The first soldier only had time to turn his head before he lost it, along with his soul. The other soldier noticed and managed to yell out a small warning before his throat was pierced by the stalhrim blade. A third fell soon after by an ice spike, but the other four managed to get into battle position. They soon ducked down on the ground as a large ice spear came flying towards them. Before they managed to get up Witchie summoned a wrathman in the middle the group and the skeleton buried it's large axe deep into the back of one of the downed soldiers. Before the skeleton had pulled the axe out of the elf's back the other elves had already gotten onto their feet. Two had started to run, leaving the last one behind as he was stuck in a struggle with the relentless attacks of the wrathman. Witchie simply rode up behind the engaged Thalmor and stabbed him in the side of his neck and then set off in full speed after the two cowards that was now running in panic through the forest. They had even dropped their swords in order to run faster. Though it was to no avail as they didn't get far and was soon cut down. And all of them except the one that was killed by the wrathman was now to spend the rest of their afterlife in the Soul Cairn.

After a quick ride back to the imperial camp he dismounted the horse that walked on it's own back to the stable. He pulled down the hood and walked back to the maids tent where he got a joyful greeting from the women. He managed to barely set one foot inside the tent before he was literally dragged into bed. 

[Witchking of Angmar]

Rebec, Dales, Miku
Jarl's longhouse
Day 7 of the siege, evening

Rebec returned late in the evening from her rounds of the sentries, and as she was about to retire to the jarl's room, glanced up and saw a light burning in Tekla's old room. She was weary and the last thing she wanted was the company of an imperial princess and her maid, but with a sigh she climbed the stair anyway.

There was a Necro Nord dozing in a chair just outside the door. He snapped to attention when Rebec came near, but she just smiled at him. "Lucky you. Overhearing their chatter would drive me to the Mad God, not to sleep." She then turned her attention to the door and rapped on it with the flat of her axe. "It's the admiral, princess. May I come in?"

"Admiral Rebec? Of course you can come in," Rebec heard from the other side of the door.

Rebec gestured with her head towards the door and the guard stepped forward to unlock it.

Entering, the admiral paused in the doorway to look around suspiciously, axe still in her hand.

Princess Dales was clad in a pink night gown, her maid Miku was on the ground sitting. Dales had a book in her hand, apparently reading it to her maid. The maid's face turned to fright as she saw the armed figure entering the room with her axe drawn. Dales slightly tapped Miku on the shoulder.

"Would you mind lowering your axe admiral?

Seeing nothing amiss - nothing that wasn't usually amiss with imperial ladies, as Rebec figured it - she sheathed her axe.

"May I?" The admiral gestured to a chair but didn't wait for an answer, instead stepping over the maid and flopping down in it, her armor clanking. "I assume you've been well treated, the both of you? Any complaints? If so, speak up.  I've done nothing for weeks but listen to complaining, so yours had better be loud or I won't even bother."

Dales put on a friendly smile, in contrast to her maids slightly horrified look, "Oh nothing of the sort admiral. We've received good portion's of food, and even a bottle of wine was sent down a couple of hours ago. We have plenty of books to read to keep ourselves entertained, and I had a friendly conversation with one of the guards a few hours ago. So yes, we've been treated very well. Right Miku?"

The maid, answered in a slightly nervous tone, "Yes... quite well."

The admiral heard to this report skeptically, glancing from one to the other. "Fine then. Now you listen to me." She leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees, and gave both women a firm look for emphasis. "If any man in this camp lays a hand on you out of turn, if you even overhear such talk, you come directly to me. To me, got it?  They all know I won't hesitate to flay their backs bloody or hang 'em. I've been itching to hang somebody, in fact."

"I will, thank you, admiral..." The princess looked away for a second shyly, unsure if to proceed.

Rebec's brow knit. "Well, what is it?  Spit it out. You're not in Cyrodiil here, girl. We Nords talk plainly even when we're not drunk."

"Ummmm... I don't know... if you'll believe me."

"There's only one way to find out."

She looked at her hands, and slightly fidgeted. She looked worried. "When I was talking with the soldier early, Corporal Wulf, another group of Stormcloak soldiers where down the hall. They where giving me... almost hungry looks and where whispering to themselves. Unknown to them, I can use magic to enhance my hearing, and I eavesdropped on there conversation..." She looked away from Rebec. "They said... some very perverted and... kinda disturbing things about me, and what they wanted to do... " She looked at the admiral once again, kinda sad. "I would understand if you take my word with a grain of salt."

Rebec grunted thoughtfully. She can use magic to overhear. That's something we didn't consider. Aloud she said, "You're going to have to do better than that. What did the men look like? Did you overhear any names?"

"I asked Wulf if he knew any of them, he said he recognized two of them... Sergeant Knock-Axe and Private Sword-blood."

Rebec sat back, regarding the princess levelly. She didn't appear convinced, but replied, "I'll have a word with them, then, and with Wulf. The men are randy, being cooped up in here without their wives and sweethearts so long, but if there were any real threats we won't tolerate it. So tell me, princess. What other sort of magic tricks can you do?"

"What do you mean? As in 'trick'?"

"Like that overhearing thing. What else can you do?"

She chuckled and smiled a little. "I am adept in Destruction, Illusion, and conjuration. While I am an expert in Alteration."

"That sounds like a load of trouble to me. You understand, now I've got to find a Dunmer to set wards around your room. There'll be none of that overhearing here in the longhouse." The admiral glanced at Miku. "You. What do you do, besides whimper and cringe?"

"I don't want to seem offensive admiral, but I don't require any wards. As General Baldur said, we're allies now, I think it a unnecessary precaution, and with the utmost respect, I could have landed six giant ice spikes into the heads of those soldiers in an instant if I wanted to cause harm."

Miku gulped hard. "I clean, wash clothing, and a great deal of other chores milady... Nothing special."

"Whether we're allies or not remains to be seen," Rebec answered the princess sternly. "This is Skyrim. Nords put stock in deeds, not words. And the same thing I said for our men goes for you. You don't make threats about ice spikes or any other kind of spikes, or this little vacation here won't go well for you. You're a hostage, not a guest." The admiral looked back at Miku. "Too bad I can't put you to work. But if you're so frightened, you should go back to the imperial camp. I'm sure princess here can wash her own knickers for a few days."

"Hmmmm, and I thought this trip was going to be ponies and sunshine..." said the princess sarcastically.

Miku's terrified face became stern. "I wont leave my lady alone."

"Hmph. There's a a sliver of backbone in you after all, wonders of Shor. What did you expect when you came to Pale Pass anyway? Shall I tell you what a man looks like when he's trying to pick his guts up off the ground, or the sound he makes when his throat's been cooked by a fireball? That's been my vacation in Falkreath."

"My stay in Pale Pass was mostly me helping in the medical tent, and assisting the doctors in treating the wounded, and me visiting them later on. Blood has no affect on me"

"Then maybe you haven't seen enough of it yet. If Kyne favors us, we'll see the river run red with elven blood before long. But I was talking to your maid." To Miku the admiral said, "You could learn something while you're here, you know. Pay attention and maybe we can even make a Nord woman out of you. See here. Stand up." Rebec stood, hands on her hips, and waited for the maid to follow suit.

Miku nervously glanced at Dales, who nodded her head. Miku stood up.

Rebec grasped the maid's shoulders to square them, nudged her feet to set them square as well, then tilted the girl's chin up. "Now stop looking like a tree's about to fall on you. You're a woman, not a mouse. Even if you're afraid, you never show them that, understand? If you have to, fake it. Fake courage can start to feel like the real thing eventually. Now, give me your Nord face." The admiral stood back to demonstrate, jutting her chin out and giving a brazen expression that dared Nirn itself to stand in her way.

Miku, edged out all of the frightful thoughts from her head, and put on the best defiant face she could.

Smiling, Rebec said, "Not bad. Now say GRRRRR."

"GRRRR!" Miku's face twisted into a savage snarl.

Rebec nodded approvingly, then poked a finger in the girl's stomach. "Say it from down here.  GRRRRRR!!!"

She nodded her head, and said it from her stomach, "GRRRRRRR"

"Good, good.  Now say ARRRRR..." Rebec repeated the lesson until she got a decent growl out of the maid. "Now say 'TELL THAT TO THE BITCH WHO BORE YOU!' That's what you shout at them when they make lewd remarks, princess." The admiral looked back and waited for Miku.

"TELL THAT TO THE BITCH WHO BORE YOU!" said Miku, who had perfected the growl and intimidating look. "How's that Admiral-I mean milady?"

"I'm not milady, and neither are you. You're a Nord woman now." Rebec slapped the girl on the shoulder, mumbling "sort of" under her breath. In normal tone she continued, "Then if they keep on, you grab the nearest mead bottle and smash 'em over the head with it. It's easy, see?" The admiral glanced from Miku to the princess and back. "Uh, maybe you two ought to run away after that part. Or throw some of those ice spikes."

Miku shouted out aggressively, "If any of them go near my lady, I'll cut there balls off!!!"

Rebec laughed in surprise, and clapped the girl on the shoulder again. "You're alright, Mouse. Maybe you got a bit of Nord in you after all." The admiral turned to leave the imperials in peace, but stopped at the door and wagged a finger back at them. "Mind the threats now, both of you. This was purely a theoretical exercise. Anybody's balls need cutting off and I'll do the honors."

The admiral was still chuckling as she gestured to the guard to lock the door behind her. Catching his look, she said, "What? You have to admit, that one wasn't half bad."

***

The next morning, Rebec questioned the guard Wulf and the two Stormcloak soldiers the princess had accused of threatening to rape her. Sadly there wasn't enough proof for real scrotum surgery, but enough that she could tell they were probably guilty. From the men's sly looks, she could also see that they'd be saying the same things about her if it wasn't for her rank and the fact that she was married to the general.

In short order the men were put in stocks in the middle of the street, stripped down to their loincloths. Above their heads, Rebec posted a sign.

CRIME: NO BALLS

And insulting ladies who didn't deserve it.

People passing in the street laughed at the spectacle, and the occasional woman leaned down to check if the charge was deserved.

[Witchking of Angmar]

Rebec, Baldur
Falkreath
Late Morning

Rebec waited nervously near the gate for Baldur to arrive, ducking under a battlement to get out of the rain. She had put wind braids in her hair, and donned her chainmail with Stormcloak surcoat. Lastly she had debated whether or not to apply her war paint. They were trying to achieve peace with the imperials, but in the end she decided to put it on. It was not really a peace meeting. It was a different phase of the war with the Dominion.

Baldur was in the longhouse with a dark elf mage woman sending a letter with some mead to Witchie. The letter read:

"What is your relationship with the Princess? Did she come up with this plan on her own? Why are you training her in combat and magic? When and are you coming back to the camp? I suspect that I may know the answer to number two, so good work. Sent more Black-Briar Juniper Berry Mead.

B."

After a few moments, the dark wizard finally replied. While Baldur was reading it, his right hand once again started trembling frantically while he tried to hold the letter:

"Don't share this information lightly, or even better don't share it at all. I managed to get the ear of the princess and then to infiltrate the imperial camp without joining the Legion I became her teacher from the Synod, I got membership within various magical factions a long time ago for various reasons. Training her also helps her to stay alive which is important as she is the reason I can even stay here and she is also my source of influence in the camp. As you probably already suspect I got some influence in this plan of hers. 

I think I can only come back when all of this is settled and even then I plan on continuing to sleep in the imperial camp, the princess' maids would become quite disappointed if I stopped spending my nights in their tent. 

Thanks for the mead.

Burn this letter."

Reading over the letter, he thought back to the first time he sent the wizard off to do his own thing as he saw fit. The Witch-king as he previously thought was indeed better off operating on his own. Baldur was glad he made the right call.

Heh, always pays to have a witch in your pocket. Who would have thought such a small decision like that would have lead to the end of t-... POSSIBLY lead to the end of the fighting? Better yet, to allies against the Thalmor? And the Princess... her sudden change of heart, and paying attention to those letters she was signing... This makes a lot more sense now.

When Baldur read over the last part of the letter, he was drinking some of the special mead himself in a mug. Baldur's eyes widened and he couldn't help it when mead went flying out of his nose and accidentally showering the poor woman's face with the mead he was drinking as well as soaking a part of the letter. While he was bent over holding his gut from laughing, the dunmer shot him a murderous look that would have curdled milk, but Baldur was too busy laughing to notice. Baldur wrote another letter after giving the woman a handkerchief and told the dunmer to grab another bottle of mead and send it with the other letter:

"That last part deserves another bottle

B."

I wonder if that includes our little guest with the Princess...I'll ask him later.

"Thanks for your help, and please forgive me for the mishap. You may go."

The Dunmer battlemage woman turned around and mumbled under her breath, "Hmph! At least buy me a drink before you wet my face."

When she left, his right hand was still shacking at an increasing rate, and Baldur angrily slammed his hand on the table to stop the shacking, but it didn't work.

Damn it, I thought this was over with...

Baldur threw the letter into the fire, which flared out intensely from the mead that came out of Baldur's nose. in the middle of the room of the main hall, and walked his way to the gate where Rebec was waiting, gripping his axe handle like he always did when he started having his fits. He walked a bit slower than normal, hoping to have his hand under control by the time he reached the gate. It didn't stop completely however, so Baldur held his right hand somewhat behind his back so Rebec would not see.

"You ready, Reb?"

Rebec watched Baldur approaching, and she knew from a ways off that something was wrong. It was more a feeling than anything in particular. "What is it?"

Baldur felt a very slight tingling sensation like pins and needles come from the tip of his middle finger. "Nothing, nothing. Just... nervous about this meeting... is all." said Baldur, giving a reassuring smile not all that reassuring.

Baldur's nervous laughter made Rebec even more suspicious. She crossed her arms, indicating she wasn't moving from the spot. "You're hiding something from me. I thought we weren't going to do that. What is it?"

Baldur frowned realizing she was right. He wouldn't want her hiding anything like this from him. Already he was starting to hold true to that "I don't keep secrets" thing less and less. Baldur hoped she wouldn't make a big deal out of it as he reluctantly took off his gauntlet and showed her his shacking hand.

"It's pretty calm for now. Not so bad. But it's getting worse. And now it feels like pin needles are poking the tip of my middle finger. I just need to find a master healer. It's no issue as of right now."

Rebec took his hand and looked at it, her brow knit in concern. "From the torture, right? Gods damn those elves to the deepest pits of Oblivion. This just means we need to work that much harder to finish this siege one way or another." Raising her eyes to Baldur, she kept the hand in her own. "I wanted to talk about something before we went out there. We don't know what's going to happen, obviously. It could all go wrong in a hurry. Whatever happens, we're going to do it together, yes? Whatever happens."

Baldur felt guilty adding yet another burden onto her mind. He hated seeing the concern in her face. Like it was him hurting her. "I don't understand what you mean, Rebec."

"I mean your thing about wanting to take the cost of something only on yourself. You remember how that worked out the last time. I was surprised you even wanted me to come along to this meeting. You don't shelter me when you try to do things alone, Baldur. You just make me feel shut out, and then responsible. So I'm just saying that if things go wrong out there... if we have to go down, we're going down together. Deal?"

Baldur stayed silent for a few moments after the reply. He never thought about it before, he just felt leaving Rebec out of the deal was the right thing to do. He just couldn't stand thinking of Samuel costing her public respect or her career. Not after she did so much to make up for her past mistake. "I brought you here with me because I was confident enough to think we'd be safe. This time we have leverage. But I hear you Rebec. You're not a helpless maid or some damsel in distress that needs my protection. I-I promise. We'll do this together. If this goes bad, then we'll be together in Sovngarde."
Baldur had a pit in his stomach at the thought of Rebec dying with him if he fucked up, but he knew she wouldn't have it any other way. Neither would he if the tables were turned. "By the way, Witchie is the one that pushed the Princess to do this. He has some kind of influence over her as her teacher. Maybe he somehow made friends with her? I don't know."

Visibly relaxing at his reply, Rebec smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I won't do anything too stupid or too brave, don't worry. I'm not eager to see Sovngarde just yet." She lingered on that thought a moment, realizing that it was the first time she had thought much about a long term future, the first time she really wanted one. It had always been enough if the ship had fair winds and she had enough coin for the next run. There was no time to dwell on it, however. "About Witchie. He told you that with his rune device? I don't like it, Baldur. If he's in with the princess then her being here was an opportunity for him to report in to us in person. Why wouldn't he do that?"

"He didn't say exactly, but I think he has a long term goal in plan. Think about it. If he really has influence with the Princess, and she can pull off a coup..." Baldur let the implication trail on.

"How do you know he's loyal to us? I get the feeling he's using us for his own ends, though I don't know what those are. Think about it. What has he really done for us? The princess seems to have come here on her own accord. Tullius and Marius got you out of prison. I told him to dismantle those damn catapults, and he obviously had better things to do. If he'd done what I asked, Jodun might still be alive."

"To be honest, Rebec. If what Witchie did is the reason for this meeting and an end to this fighting, then Jodun's death would have been worth it. I think he'd feel the same way. He never once mentioned hate for the Legion. Only the Thalmor and the Empire itself. But you're right. Don't think that I trust him. I still remember the civilian he murdered. But right now, he's useful. A necessary evil. If this works out, we will have peace for a while. You and I can relax and have a-, I mean we can take some down time after this. It's worth the risk if you ask me, but we don't have to go if you don't want."

"I didn't mean we shouldn't go. We have to take this chance. It's why I ordered a halt on the destruction of imperial vessels. Someone has to turn and fight the elves, even if it means we get stabbed in the back." Rebec fretted another moment, then took a deep breath and smiled up at him. "Alright. Let's do this."

Baldur put his now still hand under Rebec's chin and kissed her for a while before they disembarked, not knowing what the future would hold for them. On their way, Baldur forgot about the elf corpse that was on the tree, but as he passed, he saw that it was no longer there. 

Since Tullius never mentioned it, I guess the Thalmor took him down before they could see. Hmph.

Baldur put his left arm around Rebec as they walked to the Imperial camp, taking solace in the fact that no matter what happened, the two would still be together, whether that was in this life or the next.

[The Good Doctor]

Dalk 

Somewhere near Falkreath and the Imperial Camp

Noon 8th Day of the Siege 

 

"Where is Baldur Red-Snow?" 

The confused and dazed Imperial scout looked at Dalk with frightened eyes. He desperately tried to get out of bindings, but they were too tight. Trembling he said, "Wha-What do yo-you want with m-m-me?!" 

Staring at the scout, Dalk said in an emotionless voice, "Information about the whereabouts of one Baldur Red-Snow. Now speak." 

"I'm not telling you anything!" The scout then spit at Dalk. 

Wiping the slime off his cowl, Dalk unsheathed his razor sharp dagger, and leaned in towards the bound Imperial. Gently running the blade up and down the man's neck, Dalk said quietly, "If you don't tell me where Baldur is, bad things are going to happen to you", taking the point of the dagger, Dalk dug a little bit in the Imperial's neck. The reaction was as expected. Pain. 

"Fine, fine. I'll tell you. We were conducting a seige on Falkreath. You know, starving them out until they surrender. Well just yesterday, I overheard that there is a truce meeting going right now. It's going to be in our camp, near Falkreath. All the high ranking men and women from both sides are to meet, including Baldur Red-Snow. There you have your information. Now please, let me go." 

Taking off his glove, Dalk put his hand on the man's face. Muttering a burn on touch spell, the Imperial's face burst into flames. "EEEEEEAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" The man ran around the grove clearing like a chicken whose head just got cut off. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Dalk knew the man's screams would alert any nearby Imperial hunting party or scouts. Walking up to the screaming Imperial, Dalk quickly unsheathed his longsword and swifly decapitated the burning Imperial. Taking the head of the Imperial he threw into the small pond and threw the man's body in there also. 

Walking back to his little campsite by the pond, Dalk sat down and went over the information he was just given. So, Baldur Red-Snow is at a truce meeting with the Imperials. Good, I might even find General Marius there. If so, I'll kill him without hesitation. Now all I have-- 

"Gellius!! Where are you??!!!" 

Quickly, Dalk cast an Invisibility spell, to hide himself from whoever was near. Who would've guessed my campsite would be found already. If I stay still and quiet they shouldn't be alerted to my presence. 

Still sitting still as a statue, Dalk watched the two strangers. Both were Legionnaires, one was a Nord the other a Breton. The Nord shouted again. "Gellius where in the name Talos are you??!!! Come on we need to get back to camp, now!!" The Breton, walked near the bank of the pond and searched the water. He then bent down to take a closer look. Pointing to the water, The Breton shouted to the Nord, "Joric, look. There in the pond, there's a body. Come on lets pull it out." The Nord, Joric, walked over to where the Breton was by the bank of the pond and went in. In a few seconds, the Nord resurfaced with the body of the Imperial that Dalk threw, the Nord also brought the head too. Shit. 

Laying the body out on the grass, both men examined the corpse. The Nord looked at the charred head of Gellius. "It seems his face was burned and the way his neck was cut suggested it was by a blade. Whoever did this, is an expert in killing obviously." You two have no idea. The Breton pointed to where Dalk was sitting. "Hey look, a camp. Whoever did this to Gellius, has to nearby", the Nord walked over to Dalk's camp and started search his tent. The Nord then got very close to where Dalk was sitting as he was searching. Still in his sitting position, Dalk readied his dagger for a killing strike as soon the Nord comes near. 

As the Nord, Joric started seaching near the fire, Dalk with swift and accurate proficiency, grabbed the Nords chin and lifted up his head, simultaneously he took his dagger and slit the throat of the Nord. Unfortunately, due him moving, the invisibility spell was dissipated. Blood gushed out of the Nord's throat like a waterfall. The Breton paniced and ran as fast as he could out of the grove. Casting his teleportation spell, Dalk teleported outside of the grove, but much to his dismay, there was no sight of the Breton. 

Great, now he's going to alert the Imperial to my presence.

[The Good Doctor]

Jonus Rato

Falkreath

Day 8 of siege, early morning

 

Jonus's eyes opened to the sound of screaming. Across the cell, a prisoner had awakened and seen Kilvar's bloody corpse. Slowly, more and more prisoners were waking up and realizing what had happened. More screams rang out. Jonus himself put on a terrified expression and sat up stood up. His legs started wobbling and he leaned on the wall for support. He'd fallen asleep sitting cross legged, and now both legs were asleep.

"This man is dead!" Someone screamed.

By now, a huge commotion had come up, and everyone in the cell was backed to a wall, making sure that they could see everyone else.

Two guards bounded down the stairs. Jonus recognized one of them as Kodak.

"What the hell is going on down here?!" The unknown guard screamed. He saw all the prisoners in Jonus's cell spread out along the walls.

"Am I going to have to-" The guard's voice trailed off as he spotted Kilvar's corpse.

"Who did this?!"

Jonus held his breath. If anyone had seen him last night, he was about to find out. The guard looked frustrated when nobody answered.

"There are over ten of you in this cell! I know one of you saw what happened!"

Kodak whispered something in the guard's ear and nudged his head toward a prisoner in the opposite corner from Jonus. The guard's eyes narrowed at the man and he nodded. He whispered something back.

What are you doing Kodak?

The guard looked at them all and spoke. "I'll be back shortly. Kodak here will keep an eye on all of you while I'm gone."

He turned and left the room. Jonus noticed every prisoner in the cell was eyeing the man that Kodak had motioned towards. He knew of course, that it was a sham. This man would be blamed for what happened. He most likely was in here for violent crimes and had been for a long while, which is why Kodak had chosen him to pin this on. He doesn't speak much, and you couldn't tell it from looking at him, but Jonus knew that Kodak was smarter than he let on. He was one of Jonus's most useful allies, and was the only one who was privy to even close to the amount of information as Malik. Jonus knew that by now,Kodak would have everything covered to insure that he would walk free, and without suspicion. The man that was to take the fall looked worried, but quickly took on a defensive look instead.

"Why are you all looking at me?! I didn't do it! I've been in here for six years. I have no reason!"

"And why were you in here?" Asked a fellow prisoner.

"Banditry and murder. But I'm paying my due. I haven't done anything like this in years."

"Who else then?!" Jonus spoke up. "I had too much mead and hit a soldier, but I'm no killer!" He pointed at another man in the cell. "You. What are you in for?"

"Stole some food." The man said a bit nervously.

"I doubt the hungry food thief is a killer either. And you?" He pointed at a Nord woman this time. She was one of only two women in the cell.

She replied with an annoyed voice. "Same as you. I had some mead and threatened some soldiers."

"And I'm sure everyone else in this cell has a similar story." Jonus pointed a finger at the poor ex-bandit. "It's why they singled you out. You're the only killer locked in this cell!"

Jonus had them now. By painting everyone else in the cell in a good light, he was turning them onto his side without them even realizing it.

"He's right! None of us would've done it!" "Yeah, we're not like you!"

The ex-bandit looked angry, but Jonus could see a fear in his eyes. "NO! It wasn't me! You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore!"

Jonus didn't need to speak. He knew the others would handle it from here. The second woman shouted back at the man. "And none of us ever were!" The crowd of prisoners roared in agreement.

"Alright, knock it off!" The guard had walked back into the room while they were all turned towards Jonus's scapegoat. He had two more guards carrying clubs accompanying him. Jonus wondered how long he'd been listening. "Why didn't you do something about all this ruckus Kodak?" Kodak just shrugged nonchalantly. The guard didn't really seem to care too much anyway. "Oh well, we really need to get the body. And you." He pointed at the defeated prisoner in the corner. "Come to the gate."

The prisoners all parted ways as the ex-bandit cautiously approached the gate, which opened for him. "Get out here. We can't keep you in the same cell as the others anymore. I'm afraid you're going to be kept in the "high risk" cell for safety."

"I'm not going to hurt anybody! I haven't in years!"

"I meant your own safety."

Kodak grabbed the prisoner and pushed him down the hall to the other cell. Jonus couldn't see it around the corner, but he heard when the bars lowered and the man's feet splashed in the water covering the bottom of the cell. As this went on, the other three guards entered Jonus's cell and grabbed Kilvar's body. The guard that seemed to be in charge, who Jonus decided to dub "Captain" helped them carry the corpse out of the cell, but he let go to lock it. He looked back at the prisoners one last time before jogging ahead of the other guards to open the door for them. It closed, leaving only Kodak and the prisoners in the jail. Jonus could see that Kodak wanted to say something, but stopped himself. He stood staring at the prisoners in silence for a few seconds, he appeared to be counting something in his head. When he was finished, Kodak headed upstairs as well.

 

***

 

About an hour after Kodak had left, he returned with "Captain" and another guard, not one from earlier. The guard held a list, which he was reading over. Captain spoke, he did not seem happy.

"Alright. So it turns out, despite all that's happened, several of you maggots are still set to be released today." He looked down the hall at the cell the accused murderer would be in before turning back to the main cells. "Gudar?"

The Nord with the list, "Gudar", stepped forward. "As I call your name, come forward. Everyone else, back towards the wall... Lubard Red-Tooth?"

The food thief from earlier stepped up to the front of the cell.

"Rem Bosmec"

One of the women stepped forward. She must have some elvish in her. Thought Jonus as he heard the Nord woman's strange name.

"Sojun Rota."

Nobody stepped forward for a moment. Then, Jonus realized what had happened and quickly walked to the front of the cell. Clever Kodak, to mix up my name like that. Still, he could've given me a hint.

"Geron Thiernes."

Another Imperial came forward.

"And lastly we have Cosen Osher."

A Breton man stepped up beside Jonus. After he had taken his place in the line, Kodak opened the door and ushered them out.

Captain stepped aside to let them pass. "You're all free to go. End up in here again, and I can assure you, you'll be in here a lot longer than a day."

Jonus and the others kept their gazes forward as they headed for the stairs leading out of the prison. Jonus wanted to look over at the poor man in the "high risk prisoner" cell, but knew not to. Despite all that had happened, he felt a cold satisfaction having accomplished his goal. Kilvar was dead, and could not talk. Jonus was leaving under a false name, and with Kodak on the job, and a cell full of people who could support him, Jonus's crime would soon be blamed on the ex-bandit. It all tied up nicely. As he stepped out of the guard baracks and into the city street, Jonus felt a little sick as the recent events sunk in. I just killed a man that trusted me and blamed it on an innocent man. Jonus shook his head as he walked toward the river. Not innocent, he reminded himself, he was a killer already. And Kilvar was a dead man no matter what. If he'd spared his own hide and betrayed us, Malik would've ended it himself.

When Jonus reached the river that runs through the edge of Falkreath, he sat on a large rock. He looked down into the clear water and watched a school of Cyrodilic spade tails swim downstream.

"Jonus?"

Jonus turned to see Malik standing behind him. He had a concerned look on his face. "Hello Malik." Jouns gestured to another rock beside his own. "I told you I'd be here on time. Take a seat."

Malik sat down. "So you did it?"

"Yes."

"That's that then... It should've been me in there, or anyone else."

"It had to be me and it couldn't have been you. Nobody else would've supported the move. If we'd asked anyone but Kodak to do it, we'd only have lost their support."

"About that..."

Jonus looked up at his friend. "What is it?"

"While you were in there... The General and that Captain you mentioned held a public meeting. They rounded up everybody, and I mean everybody, and threatened traitors with severe consequences. And they further cut down on rations.

"Well that is what we wanted. Now the people will be frustrated."

"It's not just that. They're putting together a militia. People who sign up don't get the rations cut."

"Damnit! That Red-Snow is a smart one."

"It gets worse. He made it seem as though the Imperials support the Thalmor, and made a big display about it. The vast majority of the town now supports him. His militia is gaining more recruits from that than it is the food."

Jonus couldn't believe what he was hearing. It sounded as though pretty much the whole town now supported the Stormcloaks. Something inside Jonus snapped.

"This can't be! We... We could've done this Malik! We could've won!"

"We still have us. And those who know you personally."

"Damn them! They don't mean shit! I just killed a friend in that prison for this! A man that trusted me! And for what?!? It was all for nothing!"

"Jonus, get ahold of yourself. It's not over yet."

Jonus's eyes looked bloodshot. 

"I didn't say it was fucking over! We're going to change the plans again. We're gonna make them pay! Them specifically. You... I want you to kill the General."

Malik shook his head. "Jonus. I was a good soldier. Hell, I was great. But Baldur is a league above me. And not to mention the Captain. I wouldn't last long."

"Then what are we going to do?”

"We're gonna calm down and think about this. Red-Snow's militia, they're receiving weapons."

Jonus snapped out of his rage as soon as a new plan began to formulate. 

"So we can easily get weapons. But weapons are no good without an army to wield them. We need a way to find a way to get the people confused. Bring back Stormcloak hatred. I think I know how. I don't like it, but it'll certainly do the trick."

"What is it?"

"I'll tell you back at Jolfnir's. for now, we have to deal with a more pressing matter. Stronlief. He has to die. Today... Immediately."

"Did Kilvar give his name?"

"Yes. But only his."

"Then you're right. He's still in his brother's house. I'll go deal with the issue myself now."

"Good. I'll be at Jolfnir's when you're done."

Malik headed off. Jonus waited several seconds before doing the same.

 

***

 

A tired looking blonde haired Nord opened the door to his house. His eyes widened when he saw who was at his door.

"Oh! Uh... Come in... Sir."

The large man entered. 

"You're Frelkir right? Stronlief's brother?"

The Nord, who was indeed Frelkir, answered nervously. "Umm yes... Why? What's he gotten into?"

"Trouble." Replied Boldir.

[The Good Doctor]

Baldur, Rebec, Graccus, Tullius, Lorgar, Eduard

Just before Noon

Imperial Camp

 

"Sir it's them..."

Said Sergeant Augustus of the sons of Whiterun, next to his commanding officer, General Gaius Tullius.

"Are you sure?" Asked Tullius,

"They match your description sir."

Tullius chucked a bit, "Bring them to the imperial gate, I'll meet you there. I have to inform Lorgar their guests have arrived. " And without another word,Tullius left the sergeant and the two other soldiers to greet the Stormcloaks. The soldiers approached the two nords, they were all clad in a odd dark leather armor and wore Bosmer Balcava's, each of them wore a Whiterun service badge on their right shoulder. Augustus saluted.

"Sir, Sergeant Augustus of the Sons of Whiterun. You are General Baludr Red-snow?"

Baldur gave the soldier a cold look at the pronunciation of his name.

"It's Baldur. B.A.L.D.U.R. And this is High Admiral Rebec Red-Snow. We're here to speak to Tullius and your commanding Officer."

"With respect sir, Nordic names somewhat confuse me. And Tullius is my commanding officer. He ordered me to bring you to the palisade gate at the edge of the imperial camp."

He nodded his head at the female nord, "Ma'am."

"Cut the chitchat and let's get on with it," Rebec replied, glancing around nervously.  Gods, whose idea was this anyway.  Shor's going to strike us down for sheer stupidity.

"You heard what the lady said, get moving." said Baldur.

"Yes sir." 

The three soldiers walked in union, five pace's apart. The all had imperial swords strapped to their leather belts, along with two daggers.

"Sir just a warning, the imperial soldiers in camp might stare, don't knock them in the jaw for rudeness."

Baldur smirked at the comment. "Ha, depends on why they're staring. And who they're staring at."

Rebec gave him a sidelong glance.  "The imps can stare at your manly Nord ass, I don't mind.  No touching, though."

Augustus chucked, by then they were in sight of the imperial palisade  and General Tullius. He no longer wore his black cloak, but was clad in his original red General uniform that he wore during the battle of Solitude, along with a red cape. The three soldiers saluted, which Tullius returned.  He nodded at Baldur and Rebec,

"How was the trip here General?"

"Wet. As usual in this part of Skyrim. So, I'm sure your men are as ready for us to leave as much as we are. Let's get to it General. And end this fighting." said Baldur.

"Agreed, follow me."

Tullius took them threw the imperial camp, and as Augusts said, the imperial legionaries starred at the group, some stared hostile and some just starred curious. However, most likely due to Tullius being there, they didn't step out of line. Tullius sarcastically said,

"They're in awe General, of seeing the legendary warrior Red-snow and the shield maiden Rebec..."

Rebec's tone is dry.  "Can't say the same. You seen one imperial in a skirt, you seen 'em all."

Tullius seemed offended, "Hey those "skirts" as you call them are comfortable as hell, let's my legs feel the fresh air!!!"

"Ha, and you wonder why we call you all milkdrinkers." said Baldur jokingly.

"Har har har General..."

They finally reached a red, and quite large tent. Inside was a very large round table, and around 12 chairs, on one of those chairs was Praefect Lorgar, with his hood down and a chewed apple in his hand. He yawned,

"What took you so long "One-eye?"

Tullius laughed, and said in his deadpan tone,  "I was busy giving the locals a tour of the "mighty" and "sophisticated" imperial legion forward siege camp? Showing them are elite soldiers, and their skirts.."

"Enough with the skirt talk, I believe we have some business to attend to," a voice from the end of the table said.

Gracchus stood up, and walked to the entrance.

"Tullius," Gracchus said with a nod to the general.

"And General Red-Snow. It's been a while since we last met, hasn't it," Gracchus asked, his hand extended for a handshake.

Baldur hesitated for a second before grabbing his hand. "Indeed it has, Graccus."

Rebec came in the tent behind Baldur.  Stepping around him, she regarded this imperial legate who spoke, and her brow knit as she tried to figure out how she would know the man.  Suddenly, as it came to her, her expression changed.  Forgetting entirely where she was or what she was there to do, she launched forward at Gracchus, barreling into him and grasping at the armor straps on his breastplate.

Slamming him back into the unsuspecting Tullius who stood behind him, she screamed, "You!  You thrice-cursed son of an elven whore!  You have the nerve to call me here...!"  The admiral reached a gauntleted hand back to strike at his face, her senses entirely gone as she only saw the faces of her crew twisted in agony as the flames consumed them.

Tullius had already moved, throwing Gracchus out of the way of Rebec's punch and taking the blow himself.

Gracchus was stunned, as the woman who he didn't know pushed him into Tullius, screaming about him being born of a whore and something about a crew. She raised a gauntlet aimed at his face, but Gracchus was pushed out of the way by Tullius, who took the blow.

"What is going on?" he yelled.

Baldur stood back and simply held his hand on his right axe waiting to see if anyone would dare to lay a hand on Rebec in his presence. After Rebec clocked Tullius on the face he moved behind her and picked her up by her waist to restrain her.

"Calm yourself, Rebec!"

Tullius was thrown to the ground, he spat out a mouthful of blood,

"Feeling better Admiral?" He said sarcastically.

The admiral started forward again after Tullius got in her way, and as Baldur restrained her she struggled with him, too.  Finally she slackened, and when he relaxed his grip she pushed herself free of him angrily.  Her face was the color of the imperials' cloaks and she was shaking, but Rebec stood her ground this time.  Pointing at Gracchus, she spat out, "This pile of privy scum is the fire mage who sunk my ship!  Gracchus Ceno, isn't it?  Charred any people today, legate?  You don't know how much I've longed for this day."

"Rebec, please. Calm down." said Baldur sternly.

"Yes, my name is Gracchus Ceno. And yes, I burned the Harpy, which was your ship I believe. Which means you must be High Admiral Rebec. To answer your question, no, I haven't burned anymore men. Have you sunk anymore ships?"Gracchus said, a frown crossing his face.

Breathing hard, Rebec tried to find something else to say, but there weren't enough words.  She had seen this face in her mind so many times, impressed deeply in her memory alongside the sounds of screams, and her own voice shouting to the survivors to get back on the charred oars and leave their friends in the water behind.

She looked from the imperials back to Baldur, and his face seemed to bring her back to the present.  Still shaking, her shoulders fell, rage abating.  Looking back to Gracchus, she said, "Do you see now, Legate Ceno?  Is that what you're here to tell us?  You see now who was really behind those orders you were following?"

"Everyone calm down, and remember why we're here. Let's get it out in the air now. Rebec sunk your ships, Graccus sunk the Harpy. Lorgar almost killed me and assassinated our Jarl, I annihilated his entire unit. Those all the grudges out on the table yes? If not keep it to yourselves. That's all in the past. We came here because we heard you lot were ready to kill Thalmor. Any truth to that?" said Baldur.

"That's what I was told. Glad to see somebody who wants to get to the point," said Eduard, breaking his silence.

"Thank you Eduard, and General Red-Snow, for reminding us of our true purpose. If you'll be seated..."

Gracchus motioned to the table, and took a seat at it's head.

"Let's begin."

"Well first thing I want to know before we begin is how do I know I can trust you? You gave me your Princess, yes, but for all I know this can be a very elaborate plan to get my men out of the town under the pretense of working together. You could be playing Tullius right now. What are you going to do to show you are for real?" asked Baldur.

"You are right. We must prove that you can trust us, otherwise this will never work. We need to be able to rely on each other," Gracchus said, his fists clenched and face determined.

Rebec gave a skeptical snort, but said nothing.

"I think what my lovely wife means is what exactly do you plan to do? We need action, not words." asked Baldur.

Eduard spoke up. "Then just wait right there General."

He walked out and returned with a Thalmor soldier. Then suddenly, he unsheathed his sword. The elf tried to react, but being bound and gagged, he couldn't. He cut the soldiers hands off, and pushed him to his knees. Then he plunged his sword into the Thalmor's guts, and spilled the elf's guts all over the ground. Walking through the organs of the deceased soldier, he realized he had fulfilled his promise to Jodun.

I told you I would remember you. Now stop bothering my thoughts, I have crap to do.

"There, you see. I am more than willing to kill these dirty fucking elves. Now General, can we continue the discussion?" Eduard said, cleaning his blade.

The admiral watched this display with stony expression, blinking once as blood from the elf's hands spattered her.  She stared at the body a moment before looking back to the imperials. "One down. What do you plan to do about the others?"

Eduard didn't acknowledge the Admiral right away. Instead he quietly took one of the hands of the Thalmor, cut off one of his fingers and took a seat, beginning to twirl it in his hand below the table. He liked to keep his hands busy during tense situations. He then turned his attention to the woman.

"Well, I figured we'd try and repeat what I did. That seem about right?"

Lorgar had enough, he got out of his chair,  visibly pissed off, "ENOUGH Eduard, killing Thalmor in cold blood is one thing, torturing unarmed, and defenseless dominion soldiers in another. Baldur I have a better...sign of trust if you let me bring it here."

Baldur cracked a smile at the antics of the Imperial, pleased that they at least were finally killing the right people for once. Still looking at Eduard playing with the finger, Baldur spoke.

"Personally I can watch you butcher defenseless Thalmor all day. But I won't turn down a gift. What did you have in mind, Praefect?"

Lorgar, cracked one of his trademark smiles, before walking out of the tent, and returning in ten minutes with a man with a hood on his head. He was clad in black dominion robes and had the sigil of the inquisition. Lorgar said, in a half-joking tone,

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding Baldur, I suppose this could be a late present, from the "Darkened Archer"..."

He aggressively took the hood off, revealing a face that Baldur knew all too well.

Gracchus sat, watching Eduard butcher the Elven soldier, and Lorgar's angry response as he left.

I hope that proves our loyalty. We are on you side, make no mistake, Gracchus thought.

Just then, Lorgar returned with the special package, Colonel Inquisitor Valindil, bound and gagged.

At Eduard's little show, Rebec had been thinking "oh great, another Lorgar" when the praefect himself reproved his comrade for cruelty.  She couldn't help but smirk, though the whole scenario they were all in seemed like Nirn was being turned on its head.  From Lorgar's words, the admiral guessed that Baldur must know the justiciar from his time in their prison, and looked over at her husband for confirmation.

The images from the last time the nord and mer met came flashing back to Baldur like waves crashing upon the rocks of a beach. Each burning scorching wedge jammed mercilessly, relentlessly under his finger nails over and over, and then removed to start the process once more. Baldur's hands twitched, both this time. But not from any condition, this was from pure unadulterated rage. It took everything that the General had to restrain himself, and if it were not for Rebec being right there watching him, he'd have failed.

"This...will do. Thank you for the wedding gift, Lorgar."

Baldur could not hide the venom from his voice, although he tried.

"Anytime Baldur...though I request you save your fury for later..." said Lorgar.

"Well then lets make this quick." said Baldur.

He nodded, and signaled for Tullius this time to begin, "So if you people are done punching each other and cutting fingers off. ..Let's begin...So you know why me and Lorgar spent so much time and effort trying to bring you all here, correct?"

Seeing Baldur's shaking hands, Rebec reached over and put one of her own over his.  Then she turned back to Tullius.  "You want us to help you get rid of this little Dominion army we've got parked here.  I told you my suggestion.  Get the elves to attack our walls and your men hit them from the rear by surprise.  We'll send out some support and between the two armies, we crush them in the middle.  You're sure that this little... uh, wedding gift, that it won't tip them off to what you're doing?  Or our presence here, for that matter?"

"From what I hear, the colonel was gone for days at a time, so they wont suspect anything's amiss for some time. And your plan was exactly what I was thinking. My Mercenary unit is here in full force, I'll lead the imperial troops and my men from the front. After we crush the dominion forces here, the Princess will head to the imperial city and kill the bastard Motierre once and for all."

He started to stroke his grey stubble,

"After we finish planning out are little operation, You'll return our dear princess back to us. How is she doing anyway?"

Grinning, Rebec replied, "Your princess is just fine.  I've even been training her a bit, or rather that maid of hers.  If you lot are really going to do what you say you're going to, they'll all need some backbone in days to come."

Tullius chuckled, "Turning the two of them into Nords? Nice job admiral. She's much tougher then she looks though."

Baldur laughed, thinking about the odd pair they sent his way.

"Yes, they're safe as kittens. Had a little issue with two of our men making off comments about them. Threats. Rebec here made it perfectly clear that the crime of having no balls would not be tolerated in Falkreath."

Lorgar, put on his wolf-like grin, "Eh, so this crime of having no balls is worse then being a milk-drinker, general?"

"I'd say so. Threatening women and then lying to your commanding officer is as low as it gets. They won't make that mistake again. I admit I was offended your maid was so afraid of us, and I didn't exactly...help...make her feel any safer. But Rebec's actions showed me I was wrong. Not every man is honorable." said Baldur.

"You made fucking jokes didn't you?" asked Lorgar accusingly.

"What can I say, I thought she was overreacting. She may have been, but still. Anyway, can we move on?" said Baldur wishing to change the subject.

Rebec was also impatient at Tullius' question.  "Yes, yes, we Nords are uncouth and terrible people.  Also we smell bad and have funny accents.  I'm sure our guest here is very entertained."  She gestured at Valindil.  "But let's get back to the point.  You send word to us when the elves plan to attack and we'll be ready.  If we do this, I want your word you imperials will be taking your army and your ships home."

"Awkward talking about this around your wife eh? Of course. Tell me Baldur..." Lorgar said,twirling his ebony knife in his hands, but before he could finish his dramatic sentence, everyone in the tent could hear a shriek, the shriek of a dying man. Lorgar got up from his chair, before saying, 

"What the hell was that?!"

Baldur stood from his chair and laid a hand on his axe after drawing his shield from his back.

"Thalmor maybe? Could they have figured out what we're doing here?"

"How the hell would they know!?" Lorgar had already put up his hood and drawn his two two ebony dagger's.

Rebec also stood, drawing her axe.  "Figures," she muttered, and glanced at Baldur.  Over her shoulder she then said to the legionnaires, "One of you should go out there and see what's going on.  We're walking targets here."

Tullius nodded his head, and made a whistling sound, Twelve of Tullius's soldiers came in, swords drawn.

"My men will protect you Stormcloaks, me and Lorgar will go outside and see what the hell is happening."

He signaled for Lorgar to follow him outside of the tent, which he did.

Gracchus heard the scream, and watched as Lorgar and his men left. The twelve guards stood outside the tent entrance, swords ready.

"Whatever is happening, I know Lorgar and Tullius can handle it, but I would be ready to fight if I was you," Gracchus said to the Stormcloaks.

Not willing to take any chances, Gracchus readied himself as well, standing and conjuring a flame in his hand, and drawing his sword

Baldur looked to Rebec, smiling with anticipation, then back to Graccus. "Who do you think you're talking to? We were born ready."

"I'll take lead of the perimeter defense sir. It was getting boring in here anyways," Eduard said, heading outside of the tent.

"We don't need advice on fighting from the likes of you,"  the admiral answered Gracchus disdainfully.  "At least Nords look a man in the eyes before we kill him.  Not stand off and toss fireballs."

They waited, and there did not appear to be any sounds of a large fight.  In the lull Rebec realized that if the imperial leader was killed by Thalmor, she might not have another opportunity to say her piece, so she took it then.  Regarding him sidelong, she said, "You know what happens when two ships are grappled and one starts burning, Gracchus Ceno?  If it weren't for the discipline of my crew- discipline that I bought over years, not some army paymaster- you'd be at the bottom of the Sea of Ghosts, too.  Your admiral and his elven masters sent you on a suicide mission."

Gracchus listened as the High Admiral scolded him, and he took it. Her rant was finally over, and he said,

"I knew the risks when I took it, Admiral, and so did my men. I lost two good battlemages that day, friends who I knew personally. We were prepared to put out any fires on our ship, and were not taking any undo risks."

Gracchus looked solemn, his face taking a sad, downcast expression.

"I know that war isn't pretty, and I am reminded of it often, but you know as well as I that it requires us to do things we don't want. Now is not the time for fighting, we all may die here today, and I don't think either you or your husband want your last memories together to be filled with hate and spite for me, although it is well deserved. The enemy is out there, and I intend to fight them till my last breath. Whether you stab me in the back as I do or fight along side me is your decision, one which I hope you will not make lightly."

"Again with the advice."  Rebec shook her head, and was obviously still simmering, but said no more of it.  This wasn't the revenge she had wanted, though anyway revenge now seemed pointless.  They could take that out on the Thalmor.  She rested her free hand on Baldur's back, and waited.

[The Good Doctor]

Boldir Iron-Brow

Falkreath

Just before noon

 

"I can assure you, sir. My brother is not the type to do something like that. I don't even think he'd be capable."

Boldir looked bored. "That's nice, really. It was the first two times you said it too. So where is he now?"

"Haven't you been listening to me? He's innocent damnit! Why do you keep persisting?!

Boldir had had enough of the back and forth. He started to push past the smaller Nord, who quickly stepped in front of him again.

"Look,” Boldir said, “I'm going to find Stronlief with or without your help Geirlan. The difference is that you won't get in trouble along with your brother if you tell me."

"He's not here!" Said Geirlan desperately. Boldir could tell he was lying.

"Then you won't mind if I have a look around."

Boldir pushed the man aside and walked past the main room of the house, into the dining room. Geirlan followed him, still protesting his every move. Suddenly, there was a loud creek.

Boldir and Geirlan went silent. They had both heard the front door being opened slowly. Boldir drew his battle axe and crept to the entrance of the dining room and peered around the doorway. In the first room of the house, he saw a large man, almost as big as him, stepping inside. The man had dark skin, and actually seemed to be an Imperial, despite his size. Boldir couldn't help but feel some trace of familiarity when looking at the man. Where have I seen him before?

Boldir couldn't place it. Oh well. He brought his axe in close and waited for the Imperial to approach. He looked at Geirlan and put his finger to his lips. Geirlan looked confused, and a bit scared. He must've known that it wasn't Stronlief. Boldir heard the heavy man's footsteps going down a flight of stairs. He quietly crept around the corner and followed. Boldir waited by the entrance to the basement, knowing that he'd be heard if he went down. He opted to wait and see what this man would do. He had to come up eventually. After several seconds, Boldir heard a sword slide from its sheath. 

"No! Malik, plea- Aack!"

There was a thud as someone, apparently killed by this "Malik" hit the floor. 

"Stronlief!!!" Geirlan yelled. He sprinted past Boldir and down the stairs. Boldir followed him down. Before they'd taken three steps into the main room of the basement, a sword appeared from around the corner of a bookshelf and impaled Geirlan. His body slid off the sword and hit the ground like a rock. Boldir slammed into the attacker, hoping not to kill him if he could avoid it. This man had just stabbed his only leads.

Malik was flung into the wall by the unexpected force. His sword fel from his hand as he did. Boldir dropped his own axe and threw a punch at him. He was surprised when all his fist found was empty air. Malik had ducked down to avoid it. He tackled Boldir from his low position. 

"What do you know!" He said. "Maybe I CAN take you after all.".

Boldir struggled to get out from under Malik, but the large Imperial held fast. He pinned Boldir down with his legs and and twisted of Boldir's left arm back, intending to break it. Boldir threw what force he could muster into his right side, spinning himself around and slamming Malik into a table. They both stood up. This time, Boldir managed to land his punch, square in Malik's jaw. He followed up with another to his cheek, cutting the Imperial just below the eye. Before a third could be landed, Malik brought up his hands and blocked it. As he did, he spun around Boldir and brought a back-handed left punch into the side of Boldir's head and his ear. Boldir kicked the man back and charged forward, bounding into Malik and slamming him into a bookshelf, causing it to collapse. They both moved to opposite sides of it in time to avoid being caught underneath.

"It’s been a while," Malik said as they faced off. 

So we have met. "And where do you remember me from exactly?" Boldir asked as he stepped closer.

"It's been a while. But we were both a-"

He didn't finish, as Boldir had taken the opportunity to kick a chair his way, as Malik dodged it, he turned back just in time to see Boldir's right fist heading hard into his face. When the blow connected, Malik was thrown into the wall, which he slumped down. Boldir looked at the two brothers' corpses, then back at Malik.

Shit... Well I've definitely got a much more interesting prisoner now, at least.

[The Good Doctor]

Homunal Akney, High Rock, Afternoon

 

“Yes teacher,” said a bored and quite annoyed Homunal Akney in her usual cold voice, she brushed away her long ebony hair from her face, and straightened out her Purple Akavari-style kimono. She was currently learning to pour tea, which was extremely mundane, since she already knew how to pour tea. But her “teacher” and mother had insisted on that she learned how to pour tea like a “proper lady.”

What is the definition of a proper lady? Loves clothes and fashion, cute fluffy dogs, speaks in a friendly and charming voice, and visually attractive. Homunal meet half of the criteria, she absolutely loved clothing, and she was visually very attractive, but she hated fluffy dogs, and she spoke in cold and distant voice. Furthermore, instead of playing with dolls when she was younger, she would spend her hours training in archery and swordplay, turning her into a master swordsman and a fantastic archer. For some odd reason, she never lost her skinny, lady-like build, despite the constant physical activity.

“You’re not paying attention Homunal,” said the annoyed tea instructor.

Homunal replied, in her usual emotionless tone, “Im sorry teacher. I feel very fatigued.”

She looked at Homunal, disappointedly, “As in Fatigued, you’re tired from practicing your useless little hobbies?”

That comment drew ire from Homunal, who responded with, “With all due respect teacher, you have no business in what I do in my free-time.”

“How dare you-“

Homunal, with out even raising her voice or showing any sort of emotion, said, “You forget your place, I am your lady. Uou have no right to speak to me in such a way.”

The annoying teacher, face of extreme annoyance was replaced by a face of fright; she quickly got up and bowed her head, “I’m sorry milady, I didn’t mean to show any disrespect.”

Homunal yawned, quite bored,

“It’s all right, though I’m feeling a little tired to continue this lesson, you’re excused.”

And with that, Homunal left the tea ceremony room and the annoying tea instructor, and headed outside. She glanced around the garden with her deep violet eyes, which was filled with small ponds and purple and blue flowers, she saw a few gardeners worker here and there, they waved to her like all the other servants, she, like always, responded with a nod. The castle was of Akavari made, similar to the ancient fortresses of the now dead order of the blades. Her family had been the liege lord’s and ladies of the castle for generations, ever since the second era. Over time, a very large town had grown around it, the town itself’s architecture was a mixture of a akavari and high rock. The culture, however, was completely Akavari influenced, from the food to the clothing.  Skyshade was a very unique community overall. As she walked to inspect the purple Lilly flowers, a servant approached her.

“Milady, your father wishes to speak with you in his study.”

Homunal nodded to the servant, and made her way threw the garden and into the side entrance of the castle, and headed to her father’s study. The castle was quite large, so it took her ten minutes to get to where she wanted. She knocked on the entrance to her father’s study, and said, “You wished to speak to me father?”

Her father answered through the door. “Come in Homunal.”

She opened the door and entered. Her father’s study consisted of many book shelves and drawers. Her father sat on a desk at the edge of the room. He motioned for her to sit down; he put his hands on his desk, “Homunal, your mother and teacher are constantly complaining about your behaviour.”

Homunal snorted, “Father, mother and my teacher expect me to go to parties every Tuesday, smile at any passing nobleman, and have three children by the age of twenty-five.”

Her father laughed at those words, “I wouldn’t go that far, they just don’t appreciate your interests.”

“There is nothing wrong with a lady learning how to fight.”
 

“As you know, I completely agree with you, but the problem is your mother doesn’t. She wants me to send you away to learn proper etiquette.”

”What!?”

“That’s what I said. But she convinced me it’s in your best interest to go.”

Homunal felt very odd. She didn’t lose her composure and stoicism however, “When and where would I be going?” She asked.

“To the Imperial city, you would be leaving in a few months.”

“If you ask me, I’ll go.”

Her father breathed in relief, “Ah good. I thought you would show some resistance. Princess Dales will be there.”

Homunal, despite her self, blushed slightly, “Of course she would be there father, she is the princess.”

“You haven’t seen her in twelve years?”

“Thirteen.

“Ah, then it would be nice to see her again.”

”Quite, father, if you don’t mind I’m feeling ill, may I retire to my quarters?”

“Of course my daughter.”

And with that, Homunal left the room. Deep down, she was very excited for the trip. especially for seeing Dales again. Last time she visited the imperial city, she was seven and her and the princess would play with each other all the time in the imperial garden, exploring imaginary tombs and fighting imaginary monsters. It would be good to hear her cheerful voice again.

Dales.

[The Good Doctor]

Rebec, Baldur, Graccus, Lorgar, Dalk

Imperial Camp

Noon

 

Lorgar lay crouched in the bushes, deep in thought and cloaked by shadows. There's no dominion forces in sight...just a single shriek... 

Imperials, so ignorant. They probably heard that pathetic man of a soldier scream and went into high alert. As usual. Sitting in the tree, Dalk watched as Imperial soldiers searched high and low of someone. It has to be me. That scout should be here any minute. Still invisible, Dalk spotted a Legionnaire. Nord too. He was waiting in the bushes. Hmph, you really don't know how stay still do you. Huh, Nords... 

Switching his spell to Chameleon, Alix casted the spell, in case he had to move or fight, it wouldn't dissipate like Invisibility. Still waiting, Dalk heard the thundering foot steps of the Breton scout. Finally. 

The scout running up to a Legionnaire yelled, "Help!! Gellius and Joric are dead!!! Assassin!!!" 

Dalk stood up, and thought to himself, so it begins... 

As the guards yelled out, ASSASSIN, Lorgar's face twisted into a wolf like grin, he got out of the bushes, and said at the top of his lungs,  "Reveal yourself assassin, I can smell you, filth..."

Still blending in with the tree, Dalk saw the Nord in the bushes get up and yell. I'm not that gullible Nord. If I wanted to, I would have killed you right then and there. Walking to the edge of the branch, Dalk use his inhuman agility and balance to keep himself from falling. Taking out one of his throwing daggers, Dalk with accuracy and precision, threw the dagger straight at the scout's neck.

In the blink of an eye, the dagger was protruding out of the scout's neck. Gurgling blood and trying to speak, scount fell to his knees and then died on the spot. Dalk witnessed as the camp went into a frenzy......

Lorgar, like a blood hound on a scent, got into a crouched position and started sniffing for any unnatural scents he could detect. He smelled blood, he waved General Tullius over and he lead the way, to a downed imperial scout with a dagger stuck in his throat.

Gracchus was in the tent when he heard someone yell assassin, and he turned to the Stormcloaks and said,

"We need to get you out of here. It won't go over well with your troops if you don't return from this meeting."

Seeing the Nord and an older Imperial man, who looked to be General Tullius walk over to the scout that Dalk killed, he used that opportunity to teleport near the meeting tent. Looking back at the Nord, Dalk thought, my, my. You couldn't have at least searched from where the dagger came from? You're pathetic. 

Standing in front of the tent, Dalk spoke to the Nord in a emtionless voice, "Huh, surprisingly I made it here before he did. So slow and so dead too. Tell me Lorgar are you this slow too?"

In the tent with Gracchus and Baldur, Rebec shook her head at this news.  "Assassins, in the middle of a bleeding army encampment?  Breton foolishness, by the sounds."  She reached into her surcoat and took out two scrolls.  "Invisibility scrolls, courtesy of Runil.  They'll only last a short time.  I told him to write the spell words in big letters and none of that elven script.  Don't want to end up turning into a mudcrab."

"I'll go outside to guard, and you two escape. Don't try any foolishness, just get as far away as you can," Gracchus said, tightening the grip on his sword.

Baldur was not happy with the plan at all. "Hmph, sneaking away from an assassin using magic? Not really my style, but if we must..."

Gracchus turned to the couple.
"Now is not the time to argue. This alliance is important, and we need you to return to your army, otherwise it'll look like we killed you during negotiations, and no one would believe us otherwise. Please, go."

Baldur was a bit offended at the thought of him being killed by some milk drinking assassin, but as a General he knew he couldn't take the chance.

"Alright, fine. Rebec, how does this thing work, I just read it?"

Dalk then heard what sounded like Baldur's voice. He is here. Good. Speaking a little louder Dalk said, "I found you, Baldur Red-Snow."

Rebec's head reared up as she heard a voice she didn't recognize speaking Baldur's name.  "Shit, he is here for you.  No time for magic nonsense now.  Keep that thing just in case, if we have to run."  She stepped to the back of the tent and sliced the fabric cleanly with her ebony axe, then poked her head out to see if the way was clear.  It was, so she gestured for Baldur to follow.  "Stall him," she said to Gracchus in a loud whisper.

Gracchus ran out the tent entrance, and called to the the assassin.

"What, am I, Legate Gracchus Ceno, not worthy enough for you?"

Making sure he was still blending in with the environment, Dalk heard the voice of Legate Gracchus Ceno. Still by the entrance of the tent, Dalk said nonchalantly, "I have no business with you Gracchus.”

Walking into the tent, Dalk saw Baldur. The Nord looked like exactly what Do'jhul's note described. Finally releasing his Chameleon spell, Dalk was visible to everybody in the tent. I'll hand Baldur the note and then get into Falkreath. Addressing Baldur, Dalk said, "It's good to finally meet you, Baldur. This must be your lovely wife, Rebec", turning his attention to Baldur's wife, Dalk continued saying, "I heard a lot about you."

Baldur was curious of the would-be assassin, and decided to wait and play things out, since it was clear they couldn't simply run away. Baldur hated that idea anyway. Baldur faced the man with his axe and shield raised waiting for his foe to strike at him.

"My lovely wife is none of your concern. What do you want with me? Most assassins don't stop to chit chat with their targets."

Rebec let out a sigh of exasperation.  They were masters of stealth like Dunmer were masters of politeness.  Stepping clear of Baldur, she drew her crossbow, loaded a bolt and leveled it at the assassin.  "Speak fast, I've got an itchy finger."

Looking at Rebec with his jet black eyes, Dalk stood there for second looked at her. Still keep his non-nonchalant expression on his face, Dalk replied, "Do you treat all guests with such hostility, Rebec? I came here for Baldur and no one else. I have a message for Baldur, from a long lost friend..."

"We're in an enemy camp and they're shouting about you having killed somebody," the admiral replied coolly.   Seeing the imperial leader at the tent entrance, she signaled for them to stand down, for the moment.  "I suppose that's all a big misunderstanding?"

Giving a cold laugh, Dalk replied, "No, I just despise Legionnaires. They disgust me."

As the assassins laughed, Lorgar bursted into the tent daggers drawn,

"Funny, I could say the same thing about Assassins."

Gracchus waked in, behind Lorgar.

"As could I. What business do you have coming into my camp and killing my men? I should have you killed on the spot, regardless of whether you have business with General Red-Snow."

"I agree sir." said Lorgar.

Looking back to where the voice came from, Dalk saw the Nord from earlier. Giving a dark glance to the Nord, Dalk said, "I wasn't talking to you. You have no right to talk, Lorgar. I heard all about your... dark past. Plus I'm a Nightblade, not an assassin. There's a difference."

Turning his attention back to Rebec and Baldur, Dalk once again said, "Baldur, do you want to see who the note is from?"

"Hold it, you two. You can have him after I see this. Let me have that note, Night Blade." said Baldur.

Dalk smiled faintly under his cowl at Baldur's response. Reaching into his leather satchel, Dalk pulled out the note and walked up to Baldur and put in his hands. Whispering into the Nord's ear, Dalk said, "You'll get the surprise of your life when you find out who wrote this note. Lets just just say its from a big friend."

Stepping still close to Baldur, Dalk asked, "May I come with you to Falkreath, Baldur? Lets just say my nose is wrinkling at the stench of Imperials."

Baldur was wary to let the man get so close to him after the killings. He made sure to keep his guard up. After taking the note, Baldur backed up and kept his distance.

"Sorry, but I can't allow that. These Imperials are now working with us. You did not know that before, but it is what it is. You killed their men. What happens to you isn't up to me. What say you, Imperials?"

Hearing that last part, and realizing the letter must be of some importance, Gracchus said,

"Bah, you Stormcloaks can have him. Just keep his murderous arse as far away from here as possible."

"And just why would we let you into our camp to do the same?" Rebec added.  "I've had it with slinking assassin types.  We let one of you in, might as well invite the Thalmor in, too."

"I say we should lop off his head...we need a proper headsmen..." said Lorgar.

"Well, we showed that we were willing to kill for your side Red-Snow, so maybe now is your turn. Show us that you will keep your side, and kill this assassin," Gracchus said, after some thought.

Laughing in a very cold manner, which probably made the hair on everyone's neck stand up, Dalk chuckled and said, "I only kill people I am told to kill and people I want to kill. Imperials are one of those", looking at Rebec, Dalk said, "I swear on the grave of my love, that I will not harm anyone in Falkreath. You have my word, and my word is bound to the earth itself."

Looking back at the Imperials, Dalk asked, "Where is General Marius?"

Baldur was going to decline Graccus's request, but he raised his weapon once more at the mention of Marius.

"What business do you have with him?"

Looking back at Baldur, Dalk showcased his teleport spell. In the blink of an eye, Dalk was standing right in back of Baldur and Rebec. "Let's just say a certain, very secretive organization wants him dead."

Rebec spun, her crossbow still leveled.  "That right there is why you're not coming with us.  We don't want the likes of you causing trouble in Falkreath.  And I've also had enough of being ordered to kill Marius."  Over her shoulder she said to Gracchus, "You want this man dead?  Is that your request?"

Dalk tensed for a second when Rebec said those words. Walking right up to her crossbow, Dalk responded, "Didn't I just say that I wouldn't cause any trouble in Falkreath? I swore too. I am not one to break a promise that easily on a whim. I have no interest in Marius. Though there are other assassins out for his head", quickly taking the bolt out of the crossbow, Dalk put it in his quiver. Smiling at her from under his cowl, he continued saying, "I'll give this back to you once we are inside Falkreath."  

Going from wary to furious, Rebec loaded another bolt.  She'd have already fired, except the admiral had already realized in the back of her mind that she had almost ruined the negotiations with the imperials by being rash.  It was Baldur's call what to do with this assassin.

After talking to Rebec, Dalk walked near where Gracchus and the Nord Legionnaire were standing, Dalk said, "I'm done with you for now... Imperials", walking back towards Baldur, Dalk looked straight at Gracchus and said, "That Legionnaire Gellius was a pathetic coward, when I burned his face, he ran around screaming like a little girl. Hahahaha, so funny."

Addressing Baldur, Dalk asked, "So shall we go? I'm rather thirsty and hungry."

"You just don't get it, do you? You're not coming with me. You claim you're not interested in Marius, yet you bring his name up? And you come in here killing just to deliver a simple message? The only way you're coming with me is in shackles to be interrogated in a cell." said Baldur.

"Baldur...I think we should cut him up...no one messes with Marius but me..." said Lorgar.

Dalk stopped walking towards Baldur when he said those words. Relaxing, Dalk said, "Haha, you still don't get it do you? We're playing Do'jhul's game now."

"A furball who deserted and left his brothers to die..Tell you master his former CO will turn him into a rug." snarled Lorgar.

Dalk turned and face the Nord, and said, "I've talked with Do'jhul before. He always thought you were a weak and corrupt captain. At this point, he could kill you without giving a second thought. He's changed from the quiet and meditating Do'jhul that we all knew. Now I know why they called him the, 'Tiger-Wolf'."

Baldur's eyes raised at the mention of Do'jhul. He had wondered where in the hell the giant cat had went to since his captivity. Hearing his name now had Baldur intrigued, but he was unrelated to this situation.

"While I am very curious as to where in the hell my favorite house cat disappeared to all this time, as of now the only thing on my mind is Thalmor. Enough talk. Surrender your weapons or die."

Dalk laughed at Baldur. "Read the letter Baldur. It will tell you why you shouldn't kill me. Go on, read it."

"I dont care about that ******* letter, Baldur, he wants to cut up Marius, let's cut him up and be done with it."

Gracchus waited, even as Rebec addressed him. He finally spoke up, after much deliberation.

"I agree. He comes in here, after killing my men, claiming they were weak, and expects to leave here alive, if not in shackles? No, I say we kill him right now, and be done with it. He has brought the letter, and as such his task seems to be done. Lets end it."

Dalk finally snapped. Drawing his longsword from the scabbard, Dalk pointed the blade at the irritating Nord and said in a low, but ominous voice, "Shut your mouth. If you don't you will be dead in one second."

Gracchus tensed, a flame sprouting from his palm and his sword coming up in a defensive position.

"That is enough! You will NOT come in here and further threaten my men after slaughtering three of them!"

"They weren't men. They were pigs. Mean't be slaughtered. My love died at the hands of the Legion!!!! You Imperials deserve to die, for what you done her!!!!"

Dalk''s threat was the final straw for Baldur. He had enough of cocky strange people bearing gifts and messages and all the like.

"Never trust an assassin. That's my motto. Get him!"

Baldur sent his lightning axe flying towards Dalk's face as soon as he said to jump him, not wishing to take any more chances.

Gracchus saw Baldur's axe fly, and let the flame spell shoot from his hand, aimed at the face of assassin. The heat was intense, but not enough to burn down the tent.

Like mist in the shadow, Dalk casted his teleport spell and dodged the axe and the flame spell. Out of the tent, Dalk casted Chameleon and teleported to each tree. Heading towards the Pale....

It was over. The assassin was gone, teleporting, somewhere outside the tent.

"Scour the area. Search high and low, and cover all the ground you can," Gracchus commanded the men outside the tent who gathered at the noise.

Gracchus sheathed his sword, and dispelled the flames in his hand.

"Well that was fun," Rebec said sarcastically, lifting her crossbow and resting it against her shoulder.  "Can we get out of here now?"

"Hold on, let me read this note first."

 

Dear Baldur Red-Snow,

You're probably wondering why a mysterious Nightblade handed you a mysterious letter, under mysterious circumstances, from a mysterious friend. But wh have met before. Oh yes. You should remember fondly of me Baldur. You had me locked up in a cage like an animal. In sense, I think I am, but that is not why I wrote this letter to you.

In the Pale, there is a Nordic ruin named Frostmere Crypt. Go there and enter its depths. When you come through the entrance, my men will ask who you are. In response, just call out your name, and they will know who you are and who sent for you.

There are things we need to discuss. These matter are of the utmost importance, so I suggest you leave within two days of getting this letter. You will be travelling with my friend the Nightblade, the one who gave you this letter. His name is Dalk, which in the ancient Nordic tongue means "Dagger". His real name is Almon Valtieri. Don't let his appearance put you on edge, he's a good man, I can vouch for him.

I hope to see you soon, Baldur. This time we will meet as friends and allies.

Yours truly,

Do'jhul

 

Baldur let out a laugh before scoffing and giving the letter to Rebec.

"Here. Read it for yourself. They must really think I'm stupid."

The admiral scanned the letter, then shook her head.  "It's Moon Balls all over again."  She glanced aside at Gracchus.  "We respond to actions and not words, and you've proved by yours that maybe this wasn't a fool's errand after all.  Now let's get this little gift of yours back to Falkreath before his friends decide to come looking for him."  She kicked at Valandil, who made a grunting noise into his gag.

"Sounds good to me. I say we have the attack happen in two days. That's also when Mr. Do'jhul according to this letter wants to meet up with me in a Nordic Ruin in the Pale Pass. I'm obviously not going. It smells like Samuel to me. If he really wants to help, let him seek me out. But honestly we have all the help we need." As Baldur said this, he stuck his hand out for Graccus to grab.

Gracchus grasped Baldur's hand, and said to both the Red-Snows,

"Thank you both for coming. I hope our little plan works, and I look forward to ridding both of our lands from the Elf menace."

Rebec looked at her husband shaking hands with the imperial leader, and scowled briefly, but said no more.  Slinging her crossbow back into place, she knelt and hauled the justiciar up to his feet.  "Come on, princess.  You wanted to get into Falkreath, here's your chance."  On the way out she eyed Lorgar.  "Always a pleasure, mad dog.  At least you're doing something useful now.  Gracchus Ceno.  Farewell.  I look forward to all your armies and ships being gone from here."

[The Good Doctor]

Boldir and Jonus

Falkreath

Day 8 of Siege, Noon

 

"No!" Jonus was in a rage. "No, no, no! Damnit!”

He was in the Jolfnir's basement. Jolfnir himself had just told him of Malik's capture. He's never seen Jonus in such a state before.

"Jonus... Is there anything I can do?"

Jonus turned to him with a look of fury in his eyes.

"You can start by at least pretending to make yourself useful!"

Jolfnir rightfully looked hurt.

"Everything we've worked for, everything I've done, was for nothing, and you think that Jolfnir Thumb-Twiddler is going to make a damn difference?! By all means, if you have a plan to get Malik out of there and get everyone back on our side, please I'm all ears!!!"

Jolfnir looked terrified. But he didn't answer.

"No? I didn't think so! Now, as usual, I am gonna have to be the one that gets his hands dirty!"

Jonus stormed out of the room and up the stairs.

"What are you gonna do?" Jolfnit hollared after him. 

Halfway up the stairs, Jonus stopped. "Every time I make a plan, the gods decide to shit all over it! This time, I'm doing things differently."

He stormed out of the house.

 

***

 

Boldir waited patiently for Malik to wake up. He was chained up in the same cell as Lorgar and the Thalmor had been in. Boldir knew he looked familiar, but he still couldn't place it. Not that he really cared all that much. All he was concerned about was this man's involvement with Stronlief. He noticed Malik's eyes slowly coming open. He patted Malik on the cheek none to gently.

"I'd appreciate it of you'd wake up. We've got some things to talk about."

Malik's eyes opened all the way and he looked up. Boldir could see in his eyes that this man had been in this situation before, and that he wasn't phased by it. Malik coughed and looked up at him. "Yeah... I believe it's customary for the interrogator to start these things off."

Boldir chuckled. "You're a funny one. Since you know so much about these things, I suppose you already know how this is going to go down. I ask you questions, you answer. You lie, you get punished. You refuse to answer, you get punished. Now on to the first question. What did you have to do with Stronlief and the food storage tent that was burned down in the Stormcloak camp the other night?"

"I'm the one that started the fire. I planned and lead the whole operation."

That was easy. "You're very forthcoming with that information. But I don't think it's all true. I think you answer to someone else, and you're the muscle. Probably his or her right hand man even."

"What Boldir? Is it that hard to believe that the muscle could be the leader? You've obviously been Baldur's pet for a long time now."

Boldir nodded a few times. Out of nowhere, he threw a hard punch at into Malik's nose. He felt a crack under his fist. The big Imperial reared as blood gushed from his nostrils.

"We’re talking about you. Now, about that leader of yours. Is he from Falkreath?"

"Fuck you." Said Malik. Blood flowed freely from his nose as his chained hands were unable to reach it.

"Uh-huh."

Boldir threw another punch. This time it was into the man's gut. The blow made him hunch over and gasp for breath.

"I can do this all day, Malik.”

***

 

Jonus entered the guard barracks. Inside were five guards. Three were sleeping, including Kodak. Of the two who were awake, one was sitting in the corner eating an apple and the other was sitting at the table next to the prison entrance. Jonus went to the one at the table. "Do you mind if I speak with my Uncle? He's sleeping right over there." He pointed at Kodak.

"Kodak? Sure, go ahead.”

Jonus headed over to Kodak's bed and shook him. The Nord eyes popped open as if he'd been awake all along. Jonus spoke in a hushed tone. "Where can we speak in private?"

Kodak motioned for the stairs leading to the second floor. He got up and lead the way. When they reached the top room, which was currently empty, Kodak opened a door that went out onto a balcony. They walked out and Jonus leaned on the railing, looking out at the city. 

"Kodak, you know how badly this has all gone.”

Kodak spoke in his quiet, voice. "Aye. Wasn’t even sure if we were still going on.”

This was the answer Jonus had been expecting. “I’m not sure if it is either... We’ve fucked up.”

”Aye. So what are we going to do?”

Jonus signed. “I don’t know. Leave, I guess. This is getting out of hand and the Imperials are not going to win. I do know one thing, though. I won’t leave Malik to be executed.”

"I agree."

”Then there’s one last thing we need to do.”

 

***

 

Boldir had had enough with Malik. So far, he hasn't gotten anything new from him, and the large Imperial had already gone unconscience twice. 

He's a tough one, for sure. 

You should stop.

Should I? I'm so close, Carlotta! I can deal with this whole little plot of theirs if I can just break this one man.

All you're breaking are his bones. He's like you, Boldir! He'll die before he gives up his friend, just like you would for Baldur. Give it a rest. Hurting him further won't do you any good.

Boldir looked at the heavily bruised and bloody body of Malik, who was currently unconscious on his knees, his chained up arms were the only things keeping him from falling.

Maybe you're right. I'll give it a rest for now. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow if my opinion is changed.

Thank you.

Gods, even in my head, you bring out my good side. That's it. When this is all over, I'm coming back to Whiterun. I’ll make this right.

Boldir exited the cell and raised the bars as he went. He hasn't taken two steps when one of the city guardsmen had run down the stairs and shouted for him, still running his way.

"Captain Iron-Brow! Come quick! There's been a killing!"

"What?!" Boldir hurried past the guard before stopping to find a civilian blocking the stairway.

"You've been a real pain in my ass, Boldir."

Before he could react, Boldir heard a heavy swinging sound from behind his head. What the-

He never finished the thought.

 

***

 

Jonus smiled as Boldir slid to the floor. Kodak sheathed his club. 

"Good work. Now, let’s get Malik. As soon as we're done here, we're leaving this gods forsaken city."

Jonus looked up the stairs. All the guards upstairs were dead. He and Kodak had killed the two awake ones before doing the same to those who slept. Jonus looked back down at the man laying at his feet. He crouched down over Boldir.

"You wouldn't even believe the things I had to do to ensure we could be free of you people. You bastards... burned my home. Killed... and I... it was all for nothing. I pray that it ends with you.”

Jonus unsheathed the dagger from under his belt, lowered the edge to Boldir's neck, and drew it across. A red line remained in the blade’s wake.

Jonus stood up, looking down at the soon-to-be dead man. He looked over at Kodak, who was helping an injured Malik walk.

"Let's get out of here."

[The Good Doctor]

Dales Moitre, Falkreath, Night 

 

Dales lay on her bed, dreaming about fancy clothing, nobles, and  social gatherings. Miku was snuggled on her right side, still insisting that she was afraid (Which Dale of course believed)

 

10 years ago, Imperial City

 

"Don't cause any problems...or else, Dales do you understand?!"

"Yes father..."

Said Countess Dales Moitre. Nodding her head repeatedly, she hurried away from her father, who to be honest scared her to no end. They were at the yearly imperial ball, with most of the Cyrodilic nobility attending. Dales loved the ball, with all the latest dresses and fashion on display, along with the ladies who wore them. Dales just wanted to enjoy the ball, she had been excited for it all week. She hurried along, occasionally making the formal greetings required of her to passing by noblemen and noblewoman. 

A young woman stepped from among the crowd.  “Thank you, thank you,” she was saying over her shoulder to a group of partygoers.  “I’m so glad you liked it.  You are too kind.”

Distracted as she was, she nearly ran into the young girl.  “Oh!  Divines, how clumsy of me.” The woman steadied Dales’ shoulders from the run-in, and smiled down at her.  She appeared to be in her early twenties, with blonde hair in loose curls trimmed midway at her neck.  Her gown was a simple sundress and she wore no cosmetics or fancy jewelry like the more ostentatious women at the gathering.  Her smile was pleasant and warm, with no trace of condescension even to a younger child.  “May I know your name, my lady, so that I can apologize personally?”

Dales face, without even knowing why,  instantly went pure red as she glanced up the friendly woman, who was smiling warmly at her. She...looked... beautiful to Dales. Dales shyly averted her eyes, starring downwards, still blushing, before replying in a slightly shy yet polite tone,

"Ummm...Countess Dales Motierre..." She instantly remembered what her mother had taught her to do, and curtsied,
while saying,

"How do you do?"

"Ah, County Sutch."  The woman returned the curtsy with just the required formality and no more, then straightened.  "Such a lonely little hamlet, but quite beautiful, so near the sea.  I am Magdela, of County Skingrad.  Why have I not seen you at one of my mother's gatherings?"

Dales face filled with amazement, Skingard was one of the most prosperous and wealthy counties in Cyrdoili, and made Sutch look like a backwater town. She tried to put on a straight face and lesson the red from her burning cheeks, but it slipped slightly and the strange blush remained,

"Ummmm, I had only this year been aloud to attend the imperial ball, countess, so I wasn't really able to attend any other social events beforehand...ummmmm countess." She said, slightly awkward.

"Ah, then this is a special occasion."  Magdela gestured around at the company, the lords and ladies of Cyrodiil nobility, here and there an elf or Breton of imperial citizenship, and always, one or two Thalmor justiciars, watching them all.  "What do you think of it?  I find such events rather boring, myself.  The same conversation every time.  You look like a bright girl.  Tell me something new that I haven't heard before.  You must know a secret or two about someone here."

Dales, nodded her head, obviously disappointed. 

"All we seem we do is make formal greetings and talk about the same things...I haven't danced with anyone once, it's nothing like what I read in my books."

"I don't think anyone wants to dance with me anyway's... "

"And I don't know about secrets, but I've seen human servants leave Ambassador's  Tyrian quarters late at night" She looked slightly confused, "Maybe he gets them to tell him a bed time story?"

Maggie's eyes lit up.  "Is that so?  I expect you may be right.  A Thalmor ambassador surely has many interesting stories to tell.  Now as for dancing, there are few gentlemen here who are any good at it, so you aren't missing a thing.  I would recommend my brother, but he's the worst of them all.  Have you any siblings, Countess?  Perhaps one of them would dance with you, until you can learn the steps?"

"I don't think any of them would want to dance with me countess...and.." she looked away shyly, unsure to proceed.

"Well then."  Maggie looked around, possibly for an exit, but smiled back at the girl, and offered a hand.  "Come on.  I think I can make a fair substitute."

Dales face instantly brightened up, and she eagerly accepted the outstretched hand, her voice however...was slightly shaky,

"Is two ladies dancing proper and acceptable countess?" She asked innocently,

Maggie took the child's hand and stepped clear of the potted shrubbery so that they were closer to the center of the room.  "I'll tell you a secret now, Countess," she said as she put her other hand on the girl's shoulder.  "There's nothing wrong with bending the rules a little.  Everyone here is as bored as we were.  They have to have something to talk about.  Now, when my foot moves forward, yours goes back.  Yes, that's right.“

Dales moved with surprising grace despite it being her first time, and followed the countess's instructions to the letter, she was really enjoying herself. She meekly asked, "So it's okay to do something i'm not suppose to, if it's only something little?"

"It's more like doing something people don't expect."  Maggie smiled down at Dales, then her glance traveled around the room quickly to see who was watching them, and how they were watching.  "There is no rule against ladies dancing together," she continued.  "It's only that they usually don't.  See the difference?"

"OH...why is that though?" 

Surprised by this question, Maggie thought a moment.  "I don't know why.  It's..."

A young man stepped near to them and said, "May I cut in?"

Maggie glanced him up and down, then gave him a cold smile.  "Forgive me, Amius.  I don't think you're the child's type."  Then she deliberately moved their steps so that her back was to the man.  He watched after her, dejected and angry.  To Dales she said, "I expect it's because dancing is one way men and women choose each other, or show that they have chosen.  A silly notion.  People should just do things because they're fun."

Dales looked really confused, after a little bit, her face brightened up, and asked innocently,

"I find dancing with you fun, so does that mean I can marry you?"

Laughing brightly, Maggie replied, "I don't think my father would approve, or yours.  Noble ladies must marry for reasons other than fun."  She glanced around once more and settled on a figure seated on the high dais, a tall Colovian man surrounded by stern looking guards.  "Our emperor.  Isn't he handsome?  A pity he has no sons.  That is the sort of person you want to marry, young countess.  If you must."

"So someone rich and powerful? Mister Mede is really nice, he gave me candy last time I saw him, though-" She looked startled and instantly shut her mouth while looking away,

Looking back at the child, Maggie said, "What, you know another secret?  It's just between us.  On my honor."

"You...promise?"

Maggie stopped, as they were in a discreet location without any close enough to hear.  Releasing the girl's shoulders, she said, "Of course.  We all want the best for our emperor, don't we?"

"I...I heard my father say some really bad things about Emperor Mede...really bad things..."

Maggie sobered and leaned down so as to speak low.  "Bad things he's done?  Or bad things others would like to do to him?"

"Bad things...he wants to do..."

He face was close to breaking and filling with tears, she said in a whisper,

"Please don't tell him I told you that..."

"Your father wants to do bad things, is that it?"  Maggie straightened.  "I won't tell him, of course.  Few people can distinguish between my lies and when I tell the truth anyway.  A consequence of my writing hobby, I'm afraid.  Never mind that.  You should take care, young countess, to tell no one else what you told me.  Others will not be so discreet, and he would no doubt be angry with you."

She nodded her head, "I won't..." 

She smiled again, "I trust you though."

"I appreciate that, my lady Dales.  Trust is a very valuable gift and I shall spend yours wisely.  Now I think I must go ask Ambassador Tyrian about his stories.  We leave for Skingrad in two days, and I would not like to miss them while I am in the city."  Maggie lowered in another curtsy.

The little girl merely laughed and hugged the countess, burying her face into her side.

"Bye bye countess..."

The Colovian woman appeared surprised and at first stood stiffly.  Though Dales couldn't see it, a look flashed in Maggie's eyes that might be called feral.  In an instant, however, she remembered where she was and what to do.  Relaxing, Maggie patted Dales' back, then stepped back.  She touched the girl's cheek and smiled warmly. "Thank you for the dance, countess.  You are a lovely girl."

With that she turned and walked toward the Thalmor ambassador, the eyes of others in the hall following her.

[The Good Doctor]

Vaelen Wolf-Runner 

Falkreath - Dead Man's Drink 

Noon - Day 8 of Siege 

 

"Barmaid, get me another bottle of mead, please", Vaelen called out to the tavern wench. 

"Aye, elf." The wench walked over to the counter and got another bottle of mead and walked over and handed it to Vaelen, who was sitting down in one of the chairs near the huge fire pit in the middle of the inn. 

Taking the bottle in his hand, Vaelen then handed the wench 10 gold pieces and she walked off to help more customers. Uncorking the bottle, Vaelen downed a quarter of the contents and wiped his mouth with his beard. "Ah, now that is some good mead", Vaelen exclaimed to himself. Looking down at his small map, Vaelen looked over the contents of it. 

To the north, there was a decent sized Nordic tomb he was going to explore 8 days before, but due to the recent siege, Vaelen's adventuring plans were put on hold. Ever since he arrived in Falkreath he was getting strange looks from locals. Due to his rugged appearance, Vaelen doesn't look like your typical snotty High Elf. His hair style and beard are very Nordic in style. Due to his father being a Nord, Vaelen's personality turns a lot of Altmer off to him. 

Getting up from his chair, Vaelen starting walking towards the counter. Coming up to the counter, Vaelen asked the proprieter for some food. A few minutes later he walked back with some cooked mutton and a bowl of rice. Sitting at one of the tables, Vaelen got to work at the food. While eating he wrote down some notes about the dungeon he was going to explore. 

Its seems previous explorers have tried to reach the main chamber, but unfortunately, none have succeeded. From what I could gather from the locals, they believe the tomb to be haunted by the phantom of a Necromancer who used to conduct secret expirements 1,000 years ago. They say they have seen weird lights and have heard strange noises cominfgfrom the tomb. Judging from these accusations, I should approach the tomb with caution. If my long life has taught me anything, danger can be just around the corner. Literally. 

Finishing his lunch and his journal entry, Vaelen brought back the plate and the bowl and paid for meal. Walking outside of the inn, Vaelen was struck how beautiful the day was. If only situations were different. Might as well talk to some of the locals. Then walked off towards the Jarl's longhouse.

[The Good Doctor]

Legate Gracchus Ceno

Imperial Camp, Falkreath Hold

Noon, 8th day of Siege

 

Gracchus sat at the end of the table, the same one from which the meeting the day before was conducted. The slit in the wall the Stormcloaks made flapped in the wind, letting in the occasional drops of rain. Within the ten minutes of having sent couriers to gather the Imperial leaders, both Legate Trixius and Legate Ignatius had arrived, along with a few other officials, including Head Engineer Valvius and Pilus. Gracchus, in his chair, watched the last few stragglers get seated before he began. He had already cast a muffle spell, so word of their meeting wouldn't get out.

Gracchus cleared his throat, signaling he was going to start the meeting.

"Let's begin. I gathered you here today to bring word that, in light of the meeting with the Stormcloaks, we have allied against the Thalmor."

The expected grumblings erupted, with the majority of them coming from Legate Ignatius, an Emperor appointed Legate who was one of Motierre's staunchest supporters. 

"And just why would we do that? The Thalmor are our allies, and I believe betraying them would be against our best interests. I'm sure the Emperor would not approve," Ignatius said in his perfectly refined voice that can only be described as pompous.

Gracchus sighed, and said, "The Thalmor occupy our homeland, and are the true enemy. The princess supports us, unlike other members of the royalty."

Ignatius bolted up from his seat, sending it crashing to the floor.

"This...this is treason! You can not talk of the Emperor like that, and we can't betray the Thalmor! I had heard rumblings of discontent with our policy towards the Elves, and so have prepared for this day. Guards arrest Legate Gracchus on charges of high treason and slandering the great Emperor's name."

The four guards who stood around the tent, whom Gracchus recognized as Ignatius' men, drew their swords and began to approach Gracchus with malicious intent displayed in their body language.

Gracchus simply said "Huh" with a snort of retort.

Pilus jumped out of his seat, and swung around to face the nearest guard. He drew his blade, and parried a blow aimed at his head, while sending an ice spike at his opponents chest. Unable to to dodge at such close quarters, the guard fell with a thud as the icy dagger found its mark.

Valvius also stood, albeit slower than Pilus, and brought up his small crossbow from his cloak. The point of the bolt aimed at the closest guards stomach, he pulled the trigger and the bolt burrowed into the soft fleshy abdomen, as the guard's mouth gurgled up blood.

That left the last two for Gracchus, who turned around, now out of his chair. Both guards looked at each other, hesitating, yet continued their advance. Gracchus grabbed his wooden chair and flung it at the man on the left. The man ducked, but one of the legs clipped his head and sent him to the ground, unconscious, The second guard stopped, allowing Gracchus enough time to draw his sword and conjure a flame in his palm. The flames shot out at the guard, who sidestepped but fell right into Gracchus' trap, as he swung his sword right where the guard ended up, cleaving a hole in his thigh. He went down with a scream, and the threat was dealt with.

Ignatius was still standing, his arm outstretched pointing for his men to arrest Gracchus just as it had been before the fight.

The Legate stuttered, "I....I.....uh....." before fainting awkwardly, hitting his head on the table as he fell.

"Are there any more questions? If not, I will continue. The plan is for our combined forces to attack the Thalmor after the Stormcloaks enrage them into an attack. It will happen in two days I believe. Now, go and carry on with the siege preparations. I don't want us to look suspicious by suddenly stopping with the siege." 

As the men left, Gracchus looks around at the two dead men and the two wounded, plus their ringleader slumped on the floor.

If only it didn't have to come to this. Better now than during the attack I suppose. 

With that, Gracchus motioned to two guards standing outside the tent, who grabbed the nearest body and took it away. In ten minutes time, the dead men were buried and the wounded were in the infirmary, hurt but stable. Ignatius was locked up, his hands tied and mouth gagged.

[The Good Doctor]

Rebec and Baldur

Outside the walls of Falkreath

Noon, 8th day of the siege

 

They had an imperial escort to the edge of the encampment, and from there were let to go on alone towards the Stormcloak pickets and Falkreath beyond.  Rebec decided to ensure their "wedding gift" didn't run off into the forest.

"Watch this," she said, standing off a few paces.  She took the rope off her belt and made a quick lasso which she began to spin in the air for momentum.  A second later the rope flew toward Valandil, fell over his hooded head and closed on his neck.  The elf jerked in surprise and there were muffled, angry sounds from under the hood.

"Works on a ship, too.  You should see the look on their faces when their bows get ripped out of their hands."  The admiral chuckled and walked her prey in.  "Who is this elf, anyway?  You knew him."

Baldur, whose mood was currently a vindictive one lightened up some at the amusing sight of Rebec's handiwork with the rope. He was looking forward to getting his hands on Valindil, and was looking forward to see Boldir's face when they came back with him.

"He's the son of a bitch that did this to my hand," Baldur raised his shaking right hand after the reply.

"Is he."  Rebec's face darkened, and she gave a good jerk on the rope.  The elf, already short for breath under the hood, gasped and reached his bound hands up to try to remove it, to no avail.  "Well, we'll find a suitable use for him.  I say we hang him from the wall, to help give incentive for them to rush us."

"If it's an incentive you want to give them, then I have something more appropriate planned for him. Although...I don't know if I want you to see," said Baldur, slightly ashamed that he chose his wedding day to enact his revenge on Valindil's apprentice.

"You think I don't have the stomach for this?  I'm the one who dressed your wounds.  This whole war is their doing.  And they put the imperial navy on my doorstep and sunk my ship.  Believe me, love, I want them to suffer as much as you do, especially if it means ending the war."

Baldur looked to his wife, observing her fierce look of determination, and figured the matter was no longer up to him.

"It was less about your resolve, and more about how you'd see me afterwards. But fine."

Her voice softened a little.  "What I want to see is you winning this war.  Let's go, I don't want any more surprises."

Baldur looked to the right of him as she said this when he heard the slow pit pat of a horse approaching them. He noticed the hooded figure sitting atop his black horse, and he could see his face was completely covered in shadow, despite the sun being well out.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to show himself."

Baldur told Rebec to hold on, so that they could wait for Witchie to see why he thought it necessary to see them when he was under cover.

"You're having fun?" the robed man said.

Stopping and forcing her prisoner to halt, Rebec gave the rider a suspicious glare.  "Witchie, is it?  Decided to finally put in an appearance?"

"Though it's Skjari now. For the time being. And I'm going to follow you back to Falkreath to pick up the princess."

"Is that wise? With you being undercover? And would they trust you to deliver their princes?" Baldur inquired.

"The princess trusts me. And I've already told them I'm being payed a royal sum for teaching her. So they think I'm in their pocket, or rather the princess pocket. Simple greed can work as believable excuse as many people are willing to go great lengths for wealth."

"Well, it would seem all your scheming payed off. The negotiations as you are aware have succeeded. Good job, Witch. Hopefully the Imperials will hold up on their side. They're bringing the elves to us, and we'll smash them from both ends." When Baldur mentioned Witchie being the one to make this happen, Valandil started thrashing around trying to break his bonds.

"I guess he doesn't like me." Witchie then conjured up a magicka crystal and created a link between the crystal and the elf. And then threw it to Rebec, "Here, put this in pocket. It will drain his magicka. Though don't allow him to reach for the crystal or else he can break the link."

Rebec caught the crystal, though she looked at it like it was a piece of horker dung.  Quickly depositing it in the pocket of Valindil's robe, she turned back to Witchie.  "Supposing this was all your doing.  It sounds to me like Tullius did most of the convincing.  And I don't see what took them all so long.  We lost good men to those catapults."

"These things take a bit of time. And Tullius was only giving my plans a little nudge."

"Hmph."  Rebec didn't sound convinced.

Baldur was staring into the dark abyss of Witchie's hood, contemplating on a question he meant to ask him a long time ago, but never did because he was preoccupied with the war.

"Witchie, back when I was in Solitude, are you aware that Lorgar paid us a little visit in the palace?"

"I think I heard about it, yes."

"Interesting. Because our little wolf seemed to have a very similar, if not exact illusion on the hood he was wearing like yours, and he had it today as well. Now, I'm pretty sure he's no mage, and that this illusion of yours is not a well known spell. How long have you two been in contact?"said Baldur.

"I found him in the woods a few months after we had destroyed his camp. We had a little chat and I 'convinced' him to return to the Legion. Though he had this strange request of getting a similar veil for himself. He also made it much easier for me to infiltrate the imperial camp."

"Why in the world would he be so willing to work with a Stormcloak after the massacre?" asked Baldur.

"Apparently I have his little special axe, which gave me some initial leverage. I also told him some half-truths and he started to view things from a perspective of my choosing."

"What half truths?" asked Baldur suspiciously. "I can't believe he'd trust you so easily after what we did to his men."

"Just a little about the Thalmor is the cause of all this and that he could help me get rid of them and such. You would almost have to see it all to understand."

Rebec cut in.  "I'd say that's horker leavings, but at least the imperials are talking about the right things now, and they did take the risk of giving us this justiciar.  Maybe Lorgar's had a change of heart after all.  Whatever happened to my old friend Sparklefingers, that Tyrian or whatever his name was?"

"He went back to Summerset Isles. And I also played a big role in bringing this little elf to you."

"Too bad.  I'd have thought up something creative for him, too.  So what about this plan to take the princess back to Cyrodiil to get rid of her elf-loving father?  You don't really think that can work, do you?  The girl doesn't look capable of running an afternoon tea, let alone a country."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Well, you would know about that, wouldn't you.  Do you plan to go with them or are you staying here?  You're a Stormcloak, I'll remind you. Sort of."

"I go where I believe my abilities are best suited."

"Really.  Usually soldiers go where they're ordered to go.  Baldur is your commanding officer and Ulfric is your king.  You remember that, don't you?"

"I'm no mere soldier. And my joining of the Stormcloaks was rather hasty, I never took the oath."

"Now that I can believe.  Baldur might trust you, mage, but I don't.  If you betray us, it won't matter what magic tricks you know, we'll treat you just the same as these Thalmor.  Remember that."

"Who said that I trusted him? I'm sure Witchie is well aware that I never trusted him. From the minute he got here. No offense, but let's be honest. The only thing I can trust with him is he will help kill Thalmor and anyone sided with them. Am I right, Witch?" said Baldur.

"And that is all I need you to trust me on. And I would prefer if called me Skjari from now on." Falkreath came into view into distance between the trees and Witchie pulled down his hood. "I'm the princess royal teacher now." He made a short pause. "I've been gone for so long, hopefully the men wont recognize me without the hood and veil."

"I doubt it, Skjari. The only other person here to have seen your face is myself. When we get inside, we will meet Boldir for a report. Should be brief. Afterwards, you can take your Princess and her shadow, and leave. After we take care of Valindil here first. By the way...about those maids...does that include the Princess's pet?" said Baldur, referring to his last note that Witchie sent.

"Yes, why you do wonder?"

Baldur let out a sly grin as he spoke.

"No reason specific. She just seems too shy for anything like that, although I guess that could have simply been out of fear."

Rebec glanced over.  "What are you two talking about?"

Baldur let out another stupid grin, and laughed briefly.

"Skjari here's been putting the Princess's maids to the sword on his down time. Supposedly."

The admiral gave a short laugh.  "The mage has been bedding our Mouse?  Is that before or after she faints from fright at the sight of you?  Or maybe you take that gods-cursed mask off for a roll in the furs."

Witchie chuckled a little, "I've been giving her and her friends a magical experience. And I'm not only speaking figuratively. And I don't walk around with the hood in the imperial camp."

Baldur's eyebrows raised at the comment, and all sorts of twisted ideas popped in his head.

"Do I even want to know? Wait, yes. Yes I do."

"You aren't getting any ideas are you?" Rebec asked Baldur sternly.  "I told you, I'm not doing Thalmor interrogator anymore.  And certainly not learning any spells for it.  Oh, shut up, you."  She gave a jerk on Valindil's rope.

"I doubt he would understand a detailed explanation anyway. Though lets just say you can be creative with magic." Witchie said.

"When it comes to magic and its ilk, probably not. Who needs magic when you have skill...." Baldur pinched Rebec's backside as he said this.

The admiral jumped away and slapped Baldur's shoulder with the loose end of her rope.  "Behave yourself, general.  The men are watching."  There were Stormcloak regulars coming out to meet them.

"Oh, whoops. I'm sure they didn't notice." As the men came near him, Baldur noticed that their faces all seemed strangely grim. As if they did something...The one soldier in the front of the small group of five men looked to be the oldest of them. He had no hair, and a large orange beard with two braids in it with a golden ring holding the ends together in each. The other men stood behind him when he addressed the group.

"Report, soldier. What is it?"

"Sir...It's the Captain. H..he..."

Baldur's hand started to tremble suddenly once more at the mention of Boldir in this manner. He could tell something was obviously wrong. Baldur grabbed the soldier by his blue Stormcloak sash near his neck and pulled him to his face, his hand still shacking. Snarling at the man, Baldur spoke in a low whisper, almost like a growl.

"What...happened?"

"His throat was slit. We're not s-"

Baldur pushed the soldier away from him into the group behind him.

Rebec's face turned white as snowfall.  "Gods," she gasped.  "How could this... Witch.. uh, Skjari, go with him and use your healing magic.  Hurry!  I'm right behind you."

Witchie simply nodded at the request.

The soldiers led the trio back to the Longhouse where Boldir was taken when he was discovered. They had brought him back to his quarters in his bed, and a Dunmer battlemage in black robes was trying to close the wound with his magic, but his magic was moving too slow, and Boldir, who was unconscious was losing a lot of blood.

"Out of the way! Skjari, do it." said Baldur.

Witchie walked up to the bed and pushed the dunmer to the side so he fell to the ground, "Out of the way novice." And then he started to work the healing spells. The bleeding stopped within the first few seconds and before a minute had passed the wound was fully closed, with no trace that it ever existed. Though he remained unconscious.

Outside, Rebec handed the Thalmor prisoner over to a mass of Stormcloak guards with strict orders that he not be mishandled- not until Baldur could get back, anyway- and then she dashed up to the longhouse and to the doorway of the side bedroom.

"What's going on?" she asked breathlessly, staring at Boldir's prone form.  The big captain was pale and unconscious, and there was blood on his clothes but no sign of wounds. "I thought they said his throat was cut?"

"Skjari handled it. Damn it Boldir...he's lucky he decided to come. How long until he's up again?"asked Baldur.

"I don't know exactly when he will decide to wake up. Though I doubt it will take more than a couple of hours. And yes, his throat was a big open wound just a few moments ago." Witchie answered.

Baldur's anger did not subside at the news, although his worry did. He wanted to make an example out of whoever was involved, but that would have to wait until after he awoke.

"Luckily whoever did this wasn't smart enough to cut deep. This wasn't Imperials..."

Witchie interrupted, "There will be time for that when he wakes up. To the business at hand?"

Baldur was about to tell Witchie to hell with his business, but Boldir was out, and there was nothing he could do at the moment.

"Yea, whatever. Go get your dolls. Have 'em meet me n' Rebec out by the gate. I'll go get some...supplies."

"You haven't told me where they reside."

"They're in the Steward's room across the way."said Baldur.

Witchie walked out the room, across the main hall and shouted, "Dales! Miku!"

"Teacher!?" Witchie heard, with the sight of pink frills, and felt someone pulling him into a bear hug.

"The negotiations are over and I'm here to bring you back." he responded.

"Were they successful?" Dales asked with a look of concern.

"Yes, but more about that later when we get back. And where is Miku?"

Miku left the room and glanced around with a somewhat feral look, before returning to her usual, seductive, style,

"Oh...hello Milord," she said coyly.

"Hello Miku." He made small devilish smile with the right corner of his mouth before continuing, "Shall we get going?"

"That would be prudent." The two Bretons went behind Witchie, ready to follow him. Miku had already gathered the small amount of things they had brought.

They walked out of the longhouse and Witchie's black horse was waiting outside, which he proceeded to mount, "Climb up and we'll be off." 

Dales climbed on the black horse, and Miku climbed on the back, gripping Dales around the waist sternly. Without even giving the horse any real command it started walking towards the gate. When they arrived Rebec, Baldur and the tied up elf was already there.

 

***

 

For a while Rebec lingered at Boldir's bedside, gazing down at him.  She knelt and took his hand, saying softly, "Don't you dare leave us, Blofur, or you'll be due for an ass kicking when I get to Sovngarde.  If they let sailors in there."  The admiral wanted to say more, something about how much Boldir's friendship meant to them both, but she was no good at such speeches.  In the end she just leaned forward and kissed Boldir's forehead, squeezed his hand, then stood to her feet.  With a glance back at the doorway, she left to go meet Baldur at the gate.

 

***

 

Baldur grabbed two nordic carved daggers from the armory, some rope long enough to reach the battlements, a jar of salt, and a wooden plank for the festivities, and brought them to the gate to meet up with Rebec. He was interested to see her reaction to this, and see just how far she'd go. He wondered why his heart was so set on this particular form of execution, even though the last time he said he was only doing this for Boldir. The answer did not come. Baldur approached the closed gate with Rebec and the elf, eager to get started.

"You ready, love?"

Still put off her feet by the shock about Boldir, Rebec looked at the implements in Baldur's hand, and suddenly wasn't so sure she was ready.  But they had to draw the Thalmor to attack them, or the plan with the imperials wouldn't work and more on both sides would die.  Calling up her memories of her husband's wounds, she firmed her resolve. "Do it."

Dales, face instantly filled with...pure hate as she recognized the tied up elf. She dug her pink nails into the palm of her small hand, and practically spat the name,

"Colonel Valindil..."

Dales, was obviously losing control of herself. Her entire body was tensing up, and something unwholesome filled her eyes. She whispered in a fury filled voice,

"Master...I want to have some fun if you don't mind...Take Miku away..."

"Sure I'll come back and pick you later. I'll take her somewhere private then," he replied with a small smile. 

Dales jumped off the horse and Witchie and Miku rode off into the woods.

Baldur had Dales and Rebec follow him outside with the elf in tow. First, he called up to a soldier on the wall, and tossed him a rope, and had him hold onto it to be raised later when he was finished. he lifted the hood off of Valandil's head, and placed the rope around his neck, staring fiercely into the soon to be mutilated elf's eyes as he stared equally as fiercely at him, ever defiant. Baldur left the gag in his mouth, however, so the sound of his screams wouldn't carry off too far to the civilians.

"Okay, before I begin, have you all heard of Blood Dragoning before?"

Dales said, with sadistic glee. "Is it painful..."

Baldur paused before answering, wondering if the girl may have been over her head or not.

"...Painful doesn't begin to describe it. What about you Rebec?"

The admiral's manner was much more subdued.  "Atmoran execution method.  I've heard the stories.  Never seen it done."  Her eyes met Baldur's, as she realized that he had.  That must have been where he had gone on their wedding day, with the other Thalmor prisoner.

"Interesting...how fatal is it? Will I have a chance to have some fun before we do it?" asked the princess.

"Yes. In fact, go ahead and begin now. Don't kill him." Baldur handed her one of the nordic carved daggers.

Dales's didn't bother to accept the dagger, as a pitch-black dagger appeared in her right hand in an instant. She slowly walked towards the bound elf, who was apparently screaming  as soon as he realized who the girl approaching him was. She gracefully, and masterfully started to twirl the dagger around in the air.

"Don't overdo it! Remember, he needs to remain alive." said Baldur.

"Fine..."

Once she got to the bound elf, she crouched in front of him. Before saying in a tranquil voice filled with rage and fury,

"Hello Colonel. How are you? I'm so glad we could meet again..." As she said that, she conjured a small icicle that impeded itself into his shoulder, causing him to scream a muffled cry of pain. She began to slightly brush the tip of the dagger across his face, being carefully not to drawn any blood yet. 

"Did you really think that I would stay your pawn forever?! Do you think I would fucking remain ignorant of the things I sanctioned, and allowed you to do?."

Dales voice was now bursting with emotion, mostly anger and hate, but a tinge of sadness also swam around. She fired another icicle, this time in the leg. A faint blood red aura started to glow around the princess.

"Did you think I would let a fucking monster like you cause so much pain and suffering forever?!"

Dales aimed her blade at the elf's eye, and said, "You took away the person I valued most in this world...this is for Elan..."

And with that the Princess thrust her blade into the elf's eye, causing him to scream in utter pain. She stabbed inward, before rotating the blade in the socket. Blood was pouring like a waterfall down the elf's face. Dales expression was darkly happy. She ripped the blade from the eye socket, before plunging her small hand into it, and ripping what was left of the eye straight from the socket. She repeated the same process on the other eye, but this time she did it slowly, to squeeze as much pain as she could. 

Rebec stood back, arms crossed, and watched.  The princess' apparent glee at the prospect of torturing the elf caused her to raise a brow, but she recalled her murderous rage at the sight of the imperial leader, and kept quiet.

Baldur moved towards the Princess, worried that she had killed him. He took off a gauntlet and placed it on Valandil's neck to check his pulse.

"He's alive. Good. I would have been pissed. Can you heal his wounds and stop the bleeding?"

The princess, raised her hand, and a bright yellow glow surrounded the elf. He was perfectly fine after that...except his eyes were now replaced by a layer of skin.

Baldur punched Valindil in the ribs to bring him back to consciousness.

"Not just yet, Thalmor. Not just yet. Okay, Dales. Now for the real fun, if you have the stomach for it."

Looking at Valindil, Baldur refueled his hatred, which before slightly dwindled when Rebec looked at him the way she did when he mentioned Blood Dragoning.

"The ancient Atmorans had an execution designed to be utterly gruesome, and specifically designed as an execution for their hated enemy the elves. They were a part of the Dragon cult, you see. Very cruel people. They would take the victim, and hang their arms like so..."

Baldur unbound Valindil's arms. He didn't worry about spells due to what Witchie said about the stone. Afterwards, he rebound his arms to the wooden plank so that his arms stayed up horizontally like on a cross, but with the plank on his chest instead of his back. Baldur turned him around facing the wall and pressed him towards it.

"Then, they would take daggers, and cut into their backs, and expose the ribcage, break the ribs and pull them outward, pull the lungs out while the victim was still alive, and then salt their wounds. The lungs would flutter around, and the ribs looked like little wings. Like a dragon."

There were gasps from some of the guards close enough to overhear.  Others further away just appeared puzzled, though there had been cheers when the princess put the elf's eyes out.

Dales' face grew slightly pale, and her face grimaced. Regardless, she asked Baldur, "Can I help?"

Baldur could hear Valindil's breath rate increasing drastically after overhearing the description. It pleased him to see the effect it had on the elf. "How'd you like to salt the wounds?"

"That would be...acceptable. He deserves all the pain."

Baldur nodded, then signaled with his hand for Rebec to come over, keeping his gaze on Valindil.

Reluctantly Rebec stepped closer.  Her voice was cold.  "This is justice for all of Skyrim, elf.  For all of Tamriel.  You should've stayed on your islands."

Baldur didn't notice her reluctance, and was glad that she seemed to want to go along with it.

"Take solace in the fact that you'll at least die the same way your apprenticed did."

This statement was met with angry groaning and thrashing from the Thalmor. Once again, Baldur was pleased.

"Okay, Rebec. Take this dagger. You know the legends, so you know what happens next."

Baldur took his dagger, and placed it on the left side of Valindil's back, near where his ribs met his spine. He was waiting for Rebec to do the same.

Rebec's hand shook a little as she took the dagger.  It's just an execution, you've done it before.  And this man tortured Baldur.  The last thought made her ashamed of her hesitation.  She stepped forward, positioned the dagger at the elf's right shoulder, and glanced at Baldur for the signal.

Baldur subconsciously avoided her eyes without realizing it. His face was burning with rage, and he felt like a chapter in his life was finally coming to a close.

"On three, Rebec. One...two...."

The Thalmor colonel was struggling against his bonds, screaming into the gag.  Rebec blocked out the sounds entirely, forcing her head and heart to be cold.  Maybe the elf would die before the salt...

Baldur lifted his dagger to have room for the plunge into the Thalmor's back.

This time, it's a Justiciar. After this, my revenge will almost be complete. Samuel...you're next. You'll die just like him. Three!....I said three!

Baldur said the word a couple more times in his head, but couldn't say the words for some reason.

What the? What's wrong with me? Say it damnit!

Baldur looked over to Rebec who had steeled herself for the plunge. Valindil was shaking, and Baldur could tell he was trying to hide it, as he waited for his execution. Baldur looked to Rebec's face, and internally compared it to how she looked when he mentioned Blood Dragoning with how she looked now. He thought how she looked now wasn't a true reflection of how she felt.

"Damn it...Rebec. Do you remember what you said to me last night? About what you thought of me back in Neugrad?"

She blinked, uncomprehending.  "What?"  Rebec's mind had been so focused on what they were about to do that it took a moment for her to realize what he was asking.  His expression had changed.  She lowered the dagger.  Something about Neugrad...

The night before, they had lain close with her head cradled on his arm, still breathing hard, and he asked her “Rebec. How did I get so lucky? Why do you love me?”  She was startled by the question, since she had only wondered the same about him.  Tongue-tied and unsure of herself, she had forced the thoughts into words for his sake.  "I didn't want to.  I thought you were going to lie to me, or just use me, you know, for the army.  But even that night at Neugrad when I was just using you to cool my battle lust, you were so kind.  You're so damn sweet, Baldur."

"I said you were kind to me, even when I was just using you," she answered aloud.  "That you're so damn sweet."  Rebec regarded him, beginning to understand where his thoughts were headed.

Baldur smiled open mouthed, remembering the happy night they had. Peaceful and absent of stress. He remembered how good he felt hearing those words from her, and that she saw him in such a good light.

"Yes, kind. I realize that a warrior can't afford to try to hold true to those words, but I can at least not do this. The last time I did this, I told myself I didn't want to do it. I said to myself I felt guilty because it was our wedding night, and that was partly true. But I really felt guilty because I used Boldir as an excuse for it, when it was really me who wanted to take it this far. I knew him. I knew him well enough to tell that he was doing it more for me then himself. And I was okay with that. But I can't do that with you. Like it or not, how you see me does matter. Order the soldier to pull the rope."

Rebec began to protest, to tell him that he didn't have to change his plans for her, but the truth was she didn't want to do it any more than he did.  Their troops were watching.  She thought of Whiterun, about how maybe those men had justified what they did in the same ways.  The elf would die, and they would still taunt the others to bait them to attack, but they didn't have to make it something more than that.    Sometimes, their ancestors had been wrong. 

Holding Baldur's eyes a moment longer, Rebec returned his smile briefly, and nodded once.  Then she turned to call up to the men holding the ropes.  "Pull him up."

"Wait, your just hanging the bastard?!" Yelled an obviously pissed off Dales, who was getting extremely angry.

Baldur let out a tired sigh, glad to be rid of the elf. Well, almost. He was still being strangled by the rope.

"Yea, I just hanged him. If I were you, I'd have wanted more, but I'm not. I couldn't do it in front of Rebec, and I don't like holding things from her. She was fully prepared to go through with it too. That's the worst part. Sometimes I forget that we're supposed to be better than they are, not sink to their level. Could you have done it in front of Miku?"

The rage boiling inside Dales, suddenly subsided. Her face became calm and serene once again, and her arms fell to her side,

"No...No I couldn't have done it in front of Miku..." She merely looked at the ground, with a expressionless face,  "Did I really want to do that to him...was I enjoying the pain I inflicted?"

Rebec turned to face the princess.  "The Thalmor are committing terrible wrongs, but save that rage for your father.  For all our sakes."

"I-"

Dales looked away, unable to finish the sentence. She merely turned around and began to walk towards the imperial camp, almost like a zombie.

"General Baldur, if you see my teacher, tell him I decided to go back to the camp alone....goodbye..."

Away from the activity at the wall, as they reached the longhouse, Rebec realized she was shaky from all that had happened that day, and what had almost happened.  Turning, she grabbed Baldur into an embrace and leaned against his chest.  For a moment she could think of nothing but how grateful she was to still have him.  Then her mind turned to the war.  "I hope this was the beginning of the end today," she said, words muffled.

Baldur wrapped his big arms around Rebec, and just held her with his eyes closed. Happy that his worries for now were in the past. Valandil dead, Boldir alive, and hopefully the Imperials on their side. All he wanted to do was sleep, but the day was still going, and he still was the General.

"Yes, at least for now. This goes well, and we may even have a pause in the fighting for a while."

The admiral allowed herself to think, for just a few seconds, about what it would be like to be at peace.  Then she forced those thoughts out of her mind.  It wasn't time yet to think about the future.  Holding Baldur tightly, Rebec closed her eyes and consoled herself that the present moment was very, very good.

Baldur put his forehead to Rebec's, longing for her once more, but knowing it would have to wait.

"Okay, we still have our duties. Let's get back to it."

[The Good Doctor]

Witch-king (aka Witchie, alias Skjari) 

Imperial camp 

Late afternoon, 8th day of the siege

 

Witchie was sitting in his tent drinking the last bottle of mead Baldur had sent. It was really good but still not quite as good as the Frosthoney mead they made back in his days. But his contemplations of the old days was interrupted by a voice of a young legionary outside his tent. 

"Sir Skjari, the princess wishes to meet you out in the woods." 

If she wished to speak with me she would have came here herself. This is most likely a trap. Still, would be fun to see what fool have devised it. 

"Give me a minute." Witchie replied and picked up his steel plate gauntlets from the table and put them on before placing a recall rune on the ground just in case. He already had his sword equipped as he almost never let it out of reach. He then left the tent and as he stepped outside he saw a rather young legionary standing in front of him, the man must have been around his twenties. The man was an imperial, with short brown hair and no beard, with a rather average face and dressed in the standard leather armor. 

"Follow me, I'll show the way." the young man said. 

Witchie followed him through the camp. There was more activity in the camp than usual, like if another attack was being prepared. The camp's smiths sharpened blades or hammered armor, while other soldiers were training their swordsmanship in a small clearing somewhere in the middle of the camp. The sky was cloudy now and the wind was blowing rather hard, or rather soft for being Skyrim weather. 

As they reached the southeastern edge of the camp the man steppes became noticeably more uncertain, like if was unsure if he wanted to walk, and it continued the deeper they got into the Falkreath forest. When the camp was almost out of sight Witchie put on the hood and veil and started casting detection spells so he could see this ambush. But nothing strange ever appeared, no men waiting behind the tree or behind the bushes. Even if the odds was low there was not even a vampire or one of the undead that sometimes got lost in the woods after it's master had died or abandoned it. Just the occasional dear or fox could be spotted in the distance. 

After a little while Witchie got bored and stopped. The legionary kept going for few yards before he noticed the footsteps behind him had stopped. 

"Come on, it's not much further." the imperial said. 

Witchie crossed his arms, "I know the princess is not up ahead. And I was expecting a trap but I can't even see any men waiting in ambush using my magic."

"Well you're right. The princess is not up ahead." The man said nervously, "I actually wanted to talk to you about the maids, or Raine, to specific." 

WItchie didn't answer and he could see that the man was getting a bit scared at the sight of dark abyss that now covered Witchie's face. 

"I umm...I-I want y-you to stop visiting the maids tent." he said, stumbling on the words like a fool. 

"No." Witchie said with a cold voice. 

"Please, a-at least le-leave Raine alone." the imperial face showed a mixture of anxiety, fear and desperation, "I-I love her and... and I can't approach her while you're sleeping with her." 

WItchie wasn't in the mood for such a pathetic excuse of a man and was considering leaving, but curiosity of what the man would do made so he stayed, simply standing there with crossed arms and without making any movement. After a few seconds with no answer the imperial got impatient. 

"Please, just leave her alone. For me... or... or else..."

Pathetic fool.

At notion of the imperial threatening him, Witchie slowly drew his sword, but did not take on a battle stance. He simply stood there in a relaxed manner with the stalhrim sword in hand and it's tip pointing down to the ground. The imperial was fumbling for a couple of seconds himself before he managed to get his sword out of it's sheath. 

The man spoke with voice filled with fear, "C-Calm down. I... I don't want to hurt you. Just leave Raine alone, please. Or... or else I... I might..." 

The man didn't get to finish his poorly worded sentence before Witchie spoke with a dark, crawling voice that gave shills to the very bone, "Do you not know death when you see?" 

The man face turned into an expression of pure fear as he dropped his sword, falling to the ground and clinked when the metal hit a small rock in the grass that had just begun to sprout. He soon thereafter fell down his knees with his hands above his head like he was trying to protect it. 

"P-p-p-please..." the man mumbled with a low voice. 

Witchie walked up the man and grabbed his hair at the back of his head and pulled his head backwards so his throat became fully exposed. His hands was held up against his shoulders and were visibly trembling. His eyes wide open and pupils darted back and forth looking for an escape, something that could save or just something to tell him this was all just a bad dream and was about to wake up. But he found nothing and soon looked into the black abyss that was under the dark hood. His jaw was shaking as it desperately tried to get out any form of word or even sound, but nothing came out and he remained silent. And he started to breath in an uneven pace. Witchie raised his sword above him, with the tip pointing down to the young man's throat. The man stopped shaking but his breathing became more intense.

He didn't make much resistance as the blade slid down into soft tissue of his throat, into his chest and into his heart. He had already given up his final breath before Witchie pulled out the sword, covered in blood. As he let go of the man's hair, the lifeless body fell to the side, eyes still wide open with the deep expression of fear in them. 

Witchie cleaned off his blade with magic, leaving no blood left on it. Then the scorching began. Within a few seconds nothing was left of the body except a pile of ash and soon even that was gone with the wind. He sheathed his sword and started walking back to camp. He didn't want to keep Raine and the other maids waiting. 

[The Good Doctor]

Baldur Red-Snow

Falkreath

Night

 

Baldur was busy with his Grim Ones making sure they were ready for the upcoming battle. They were still ordered to sleep by the gates, so it wasn’t hard to locate them all or get them in formation. They needed to be ready at a moment’snotice in case of attack. He was drilling them on shield wall formations by forming two groups and having them slam into each other and fight with practice swords and axes. The drills were intense, and every so often one or two people would break the line and try running back if they could no longer take the sparring. When this happened, another Grim One would clock them in the face and knock them out. Once that happened, they’d move the man out of the way and continue sparring after filling his spot in.

In a real fight, they’d simply walk over him. Baldur purposefully pushed them harder than they likely ever would have to be pushed in battle for three reasons. The first reason is to of course make actual battle a bit easier since training was more tiring. The second reason is to teach them humility and to remind them despite their nick names, they are just men. A cocky soldier is a dead soldier. Seeing their own soldiers run off from fatigue or fear is a great teacher of this lesson. If they know their limitations, they’d be less likely to do something stupid. And the third reason was to show them that if or when someone DID try to run away, that their own men would deal with them. You either die with honor, or die like a coward by the hand of your brother. It was harsh, as runners in this sort of training were inevitable, but war is cruel and unforgiving. Cowardice would not be tolerated in the Grim Ones, and it would be punished by death.

Baldur participated in the training as well. They all had their chest pieces removed so the practice swords had something on them to hit. If anyone was spotted hesitating to hit him, he’d punish them by forcing them to spar against two stronger men by themselves. After Baldur thought the point was drilled in their heads enough, he gave them all a ten minute break before they started the duels. The men were all sitting on the ground or leaning forward catching their breath. Baldur walked around antagonizing them so they’d push harder during the duels.

 

“That was fucking pathetic! The next battle is coming soon, and that’s the best you can do? Maybe I should change our names to Nancy Nords and Dandy Dunmers. You like that?”

“Hmph, you weren’t exactly impressive.”

Baldur looked around to see who the one who spoke the words was.

“Ah, looks like we’ve got a coward in our midst. Step forward if you are man enough to say that to my face!”

As Baldur said this, a very large Nord stood up and walked his way to him. He had a dark brown Mohawk on his head and a rugged short beard with silvery grey eyes. He was not a pretty or even remotely handsome man but he was very fit, and very intimidating to look at. He had a scar in the shape of an X on his left peck, and over his neck diagonally, clearly from a sword strike. He stood a whole head taller than Baldur when standing straight next to him. Baldur knew of him, as he was one of his toughest soldiers. He was 47 years old, and didn’t talk much. All he knew about him was he fought in the great war.

“Permission to speak freely, sir.” the man said in a deep raspy voice.

“Speak, Brund.”

"You sure? I have a lot that I've been wanting to get off my chest ever since you became one of us. I want your assurance that I can speak my mind however I wish."

Baldur gave a smirk, showing that he was amused. He was looking forward to addressing his comments.

"Now you have me intrigued. As I said. Speak freely."

Brund Hammer-Fang looked down at him as if he was an insect unworthy to speak to him.

“I have been silent this whole time ever since Neugrad, but now I’m tired of hearing about you. You get emission into the Necro Nords by almost getting killed, you’re made General because you happened to be in the right place at the right time to save Ulfric, you’re put in charge of us for the same reason, then you get captured and saved by a pair of Imperials? Oh, and your marriage! Don’t even get me started on how weak it looks for our General to get married in the middle of a damn war. How much fighting have you really even done? I was in the great war! I was a Legate in the Imperial army! I should have been made General, not you. And everyone here knows it.”

Baldur was shocked by the balls of this man. He told him to speak freely, but this was out of line regardless. If it were the Legion, he’d likely have been punished. But this was the Grim Ones. He couldn’t let the man’s words go unchallenged in front of the men, who were all so quiet that you could hear a leaf drop.

“A lot of the things you have said are absolutely true. I may very well be under your command currently if I did not save Ulfric. And I’ve had my share of failures. There’s no denying that. My marriage is none of your business however, and it does not affect my ability to lead. So, you’re upset that I got your job. Have I led the men poorly?”

Brund sighed before giving his reply.

“No, you led them well. I just don’t like how the men here act like you’re the second coming of Ysgramor. Yea, you took my job. But so far you’ve led well. But this talk of you being some great warrior is ridiculous. I’ve been in more battles, and I can bet I’ve killed more too. But I don’t get the recognition I deserve because you’re in Ulfric’s inner circle. I want to show everyone here and now that I am stronger. And maybe when word gets around that I defeated the “Unkindled” Ulfric will look my way and give me the position I deserve. I challenge you to a spar match. First one to knock their enemy unconscious or makes their opponent give up wins. And if I win, you use your connections to get me a General spot. Do you accept the terms, General?”

Baldur thought about it for a minute, and figured that his experience would make him a good general if Baldur were to lose the fight. He also thought that if he lost, he could lose the faith of some of his men, which would not be good in the future. He also could not back down for the same reason. His only option was to win.

“Any other man would simply have you thrown in the brig for talking to their betters in such a manner. Even despite the fact that I told you to speak freely. But lucky for you, I’m not any other man. I accept.”

A murmur erupted from the crowd of men at his response. Most were surprised he didn’t have him flogged for talking like that, especially at the mention of his marriage, but they were excited to see the fight none the less. This fight had a lot on the line for Baldur. If he lost the duel, he would lose a lot of respect from his men. But at this point, he had almost no choice in the matter. Brund was a much more experienced and war hardened warrior than Baldur was. Although Baldur was younger, and his mind was keener. Still, the odds did not seem to be in his favor. The men gathered around the two, as they picked up practice shields and swords and got into position. The men around them started banging on their shields with their weapons in anticipation as the two warriors stood in the circle in front of the gates, ready to prove who was stronger. Baldur had a smile on his face from his excitement. Brund looked like he was out for blood.

“Begin!” cried Baldur.

The two men ran towards each other, shields raised just like in their shield wall training sessions to see who had the upper hand in strength. Baldur gritted his teeth, and pushed with all the force that he could as a younger man, but the weight of his challenger and the length of Brund’s legs on top of his stronger frame was more than he could deal with. The man could even be as strong as Boldir was. He held in as long as he could before he pivoted out of the way to his left and raised his shield once more. Brund started chuckling, confident now that he could see he was stronger. He ran towards Baldur, and swung his shield towards the General’s face, and Baldur hopped backwards to avoid it, then he jumped forward again, and jabbed his weapon in Brund’s direction. Brund who was slower had to use his shield to block the blow instead of avoiding it like Baldur had done.

After a few more minutes of parrying dodging and striking, Brund kicked dirt up into Baldur’s face, temporarily blinding him, and Brund let out a big long bellowing grunt, signifying a heavy attack coming Baldur’s way. Hearing this, Baldur raised his shield and swung it as hard as he could, hoping to connect at the right moment with his weapon. Just as Baldur hoped, his shield made contact with his sword, and he could hear the weapon snap on impact. Baldur immediately ran backwards, and blinked furiously to clear his eyes. When they were finally cleared from blinking, he could see that Brund was still coming his way with only his shield in hand.

Baldur moved in to finish the duel quickly now that his weapon was broken, but Brund started swinging his shield around very quickly and savagely. Oddly enough, the Nord seemed better with just his shield. Brund swung his shield to the left as hard as he could when Baldur made a horizontal slash towards his neck, disarming Baldur, then he brought it in a right uppercut, knocking Baldur onto his back. Brund raised his arms up and walked around looking at the other men, but he got no reaction. Baldur got back to his feet and spat some blood on the ground. Afterwards, he dropped his shield, and waited for Brund to make a move. Brund came charging towards Baldur as predicted, and once again swung his shield in the General’s direction. Baldur ducked under it and ran behind Brund, and jumped on his back to put him in a strangle hold. Brund was forced to drop his shield, and he started grabbing at Baldur’s head. Eventually the Nord grabbed a hold of his hair, and pulled as hard as he could, causing Baldur to let go from the pain. Brund coughed and panted for a while before he stood up to face Baldur once more.

The two ran towards each other, and started blocking and trading blows. Baldur ducked under a strong left hook, and delivered a left and right jab to Brund’s stomach before backing up. Brund picked up both of their shields off the ground and charged straight for Baldur like a mad berserker bear and equally as quick. Seeing no other options for him, Baldur dropped to one knee, dodging his shield swings, and threw his fist as hard as he could straight into Brund’s crotch upwards under his armor's crotch guard, which caused the gargantuan Nord to bend over in pain with his mouth gaping open. Baldur put his left arm under his crotch, and grabbed his neck with his right hand, and lifted Brund up, then slammed him straight into the dirt on his back as hard as he could. Baldur walked away panting, thinking that the duel was over.

Brund was not finished, however. He began to stand back up slowly, his face visibly pissed and teeming with rage. With a snarl on his face that reminded Baldur of Lorgar, Brund picked up the two shields and threw the first one at Baldur’s head, which he ducked under. The shield smacked into a soldier behind him who blocked it with his own wooden shield. Brund threw his second shield at Baldur’s crotch while charging at him, and Baldur jumped over it. As soon as he did, Brun charged forward and sent a right hook that connected into Baldur’s jaw so strong, that his feet never met the ground after the jump, and he flew backwards and landed hard on his back. Baldur’s eyes were closed. The men stared in disbelief at the General’s loss. Brund let out a feral cry signifying his victory.

“I told you I was the better man! I told you! I’ll be a General soon, now! Ha ha!”

The men in the crowd started booing him, clearly disappointed that Baldur had lost.

“What’s the matter? I won fair and square, you milk drinkers! You said he couldn’t be beat! Well look at him now! Lying fast asleep like a little baby!”

“Is that so?”

“Wha-uych!”

Baldur was faking unconsciousness. Once Brund’s back was turned, Baldur ran up behind him, and when he turned his head, the General struck him in his neck. After that, Baldur jumped up, and put his hands above Brund’s head, and used his weight to bring it down, and he slammed his face straight into Baldur’s knee after his foot touched ground. Brund even after this was still standing however, but Baldur finally finished him off by delivering a powerful head butt into his nose, laying Brund completely flat, bloodied and thoroughly unconscious. This time, the men did cheer. and they all rushed in like flies to pick Baldur up off his feet and carried him around, chanting his name. Baldur let them have their fun for a while before he finally told them to put him down.

“Alright, alright that’s enough. Lets call it a night, eh?”

“Sir, we were gonna have a few drinks and talk for a while. Would you like to join us?”

“Ah, I shouldn’t.”

“Ah come on! Ever since you became our General, you been too good to hang with us anymore. Sing us one a dem songs eh?”

The reply was met with a bunch of murmurs of agreement from his men, and eventually Baldur complied.

“Alright, alright I’ll drink with you. But only one song, then I’m going off to bed, as should all of you. Big day ahead tomorrow. I have reason to believe the enemy will attack soon.”

Baldur didn’t explain to any of the men what happened at the meeting in case the Imperials reneged on their agreement. They didn’t know why he left the fort, or why he came back with the Thalmor, but an alliance was the furthest thing from any of their minds. Baldur walked over to a tent nearby where he had kept the rest of his armor and equipment, and put them on, resting in the tent for a bit before the drinking started. His body was still sore from the beating he had taken.

 

****

 

The General was sitting on a wooden crate set around a large fire the men had made, staring into the flames contemplating. He thought of the war that was to come, and how depending on the alliance, it could either be very soon, or off in the distance. The men had given him a tankard of his favorite mead, Black-Briar Juniper Berry mead. But even that couldn't get his mind off the battles to come.

He could see it in the flames. formations of tall yellow soldiers in golden armor. Shooting lightning and fire down on the pale skinned men in their blue armor. The smell of charred flesh, piss and shit from nearby dead bodies. Men giving out their wretched battle cries with fire in their belly and hatred in their hearts as they charge their way to the enemy to find their fate in Sovngarde. Arrows flying overhead, cries from behind as they make their mark, death literally all around, and chaos everywhere. The next Great War. Baldur was not there to witness it last time, so he could only imagine such a large war from the stories he was told from others. He did not look forward to such a battle. Even with his Nord blood. He used to long for such chaos. A chance to really prove his strength and skill, but that was before he had something to lose. And now his mind switched to Rebec.

Still staring into the flame, Baldur could see the two in their bed clothes. Baldur holding Rebec as they stood, Rebec with her hand on his cheek as the two kiss. Caring nothing of the world as their senses dulled them to anything but their loving embrace. Baldur takes her hand and pulls her to their bed, and she pushes him down as she falls on him as kisses him once more. The feel of her warmth and her soft bosom on his chest, the taste of her lips, the smell of her skin, and the sound of her soft voice as they make love. Thoughts of their future start flooding his mind now. Images of sons and daughters running around playing tag or soldier as they ride the waves of the Sea of Ghosts for no particular reason other than the children saying they wanted to see Kyne's glory for themselves. In his fantasy, he and his wife are tongue locked once more, and a young boy is pulling on Baldur's leg telling him to stop kissing his mommy and to pick him up. Baldur laughs, and rubs the young lad's hair just before picking the boy up to sit on his shoulders. The other kids run over and beg their pa to pick them up to. He laughs and tells them he only has two arms and he can't carry them all even though he wanted to. Rebec laughs and-

"Hey, General!"

"Huh? What?"

"You ready to sing us a song yet? You promised remember?"

Baldur scowled at the man, angry from being taken from his fantasy so abruptly when he was in such a good part of it, but quickly replaces it with a smile, so he doesn't put the man off.

"Yea, I'll sing something. Hmm...Hey Brund, what was that you said earlier? I wasn't the second coming of Ysmir?"

Brund was sitting a few feet from where he was, face frowned and brooding over his defeat. Hearing Baldur address him in such a friendly manner as though Brund never spoke badly of him threw him off a bit, but he soon got over it.

"No, I said you weren't the second coming of Ysgramor."

Baldur smiled signifying that he got an idea.

"Ah, but what if I was another Ysgramor? What would that make all of us?"

Brund was silent for a while and he too started smiling when he saw where the General was going. "That would make us Ysgramor's 500 Companions."

"That it would. Except our role here today isn't that of invaders. But defenders. No matter who it be, we'll fend of any onslaught. No one's ever taken Skyrim from us after Ysgramor came. As long as we're here, that fact is never gonna change.

Baldur got up from his seat and stood where all could see him to start his song. All eyes were on him, as the men were looking forward to this since the duel.

 

"Soldiers of the North, that is who we be,

Fearless on the land, and terrors of the sea,

Thalmor on our doorstep, they have come to test,

Our legacy but they will see in war we're at our best,

Hear our voices when we cry! Launch your calls right from your chest,

By Shor, we will take Alinor, that is our next conquest!

After we kill these curs and leave them baking in the sun,

They'll know just why our people know us to be the Grim Ones!

Like an undead army we be, and an ever shifting horde,

We keep on pressing forward, we are the Necro Nords!

And lets not forget our brothers, who help to kill and plunder,

Tearing asunder, leave them in wonder, it's our mighty Draugr Dunmer!

We'll kill them while we smile as we slash them to and fro,

We are the offspring of the Ash, and the children of the snow,

All will quake in fear when we go on the attack!

We're the first ones in the front, and the last ones in the back!

If they hunger for our blood, then we shall see them starved,

Behold our mighty weapons and armor of Nordic Carved,

We fight harder then the draugr, we maul like a Thrall,

We say you shall not pass when we erect our great shield wall!

To any fool who tries to take our land you best take heed,

The dead men are here to greet you, listen as we sing our creed,

 

We'll drink mead, and we'll slay,

Be the first into the fray,

We'll welcome death with open arms,

And kill Thalmor all day,

We'll bring death to your doors,

And our ships unto your shores,

We brought five hundred Grim Ones, and we brought an Ysgramor!

 

The men all cheered and shouted, a lot of them drunkenly trying to recall the he words and ask the chorus, as it was the easiest to remember.

Huh, wasn't exactly my best, but they don't seem to mind. Thank the gods for mead, I guess.

After resiting the song a handful of times more for some of the men, Baldur eventually just broke down and wrote the words. He was eager to go to sleep. More specifically he was eager to see Rebec, and get some rest for the battle that was to come.

[The Good Doctor]

Dark Memories- The Cabin in the Woods

Lorgar Grim-maw, Night

 

Lorgar was walking among the pine trees of Falkreath, with nothing but the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind. It was night, and when Darkness fell, the Darkened archer would prowl the forest. His usual prey was Stormcloak patrols, but due to the truce and alliance, Lorgar now hunted any dominion patrol he chanced upon in the woods. These ancient trees were the perfect spot for an ambush.

Nothing-

Lorgar’s advance hearing suddenly picked up sounds coming from the wood, sounds that sounded like crying. Lorgar thought to himself, Hmmm, could be a lost child, better investigate.

With the moon on his back, Lorgar sprinted threw the dark trees with in-human speed towards the sound of the crying. It took him longer then usual, the crying was dampened somehow, and the forest was starting to fill with a fog, a very unnatural fog. Lorgar enhanced sight helped his vision, but only slightly, so he had to rely on his enhanced sense of hearing and sound. Lorgar could smell in the fog an odd pine-like aroma sort of like some-kind of perfume. He recognized the smell. He had smelled it before-

At the thought of that, Lorgar violently shook his head. Those dark memories deserved to be buried in the deepest recesses of Lorgar’s mind. Ignoring the darkly familiar scent, Lorgar pressed on into the fog.  As lorgar stepped over a log, his sight picked up a clearing. It was a glade. The glade was medium sized...and there where three trees. Two of the trees were snow white, having leaves and matching the pale color of the odd grass inside the glade. The third was pitch black, hallowed and having all of it leaves presumably being burnt away.  In the middle of the glade, was a small wooden cabin, and Lorgar could tell that was the source of the cabin. The sickly pine-like smell was all over. The glade itself was familiar. Lorgar couldn’t place his finger on it-no wait, he could. It was exactly like-

Lorgar’s sub-conscious once again acted, shoving the memory inside the darkest parts of his mind, he didn’t want to acknowledge or even remember the memory. Deep-down, Lorgar felt like running, running back to the fog and never looking back from this place, but he couldn’t, Lorgar continued to the cabin. As he got nearer, he noticed that the cabin was covered in scorch marks. As Lorgar approached, he was assailed by the voice of two men.

“Sir, this is wrong!!!”

“Obey my orders Auxiliary!”

The first voice sounded very young, while the other sounded cold and very fammiliar

No! No! No!

Lorgar hurried his pace, and as he got to the burnt cabin, he slammed the door open. Inside was a girl, who was weeping to herself. She wore a yellow dress with a stye native to the county of Bruma, and had long blonde curls. She looked no older then eighteen or ninetieth. Lorgar, was now feeling real fear, and was breaking into a cold sweat, from the back he recognised her. Lorgar mustered up his courage, and said, “Are you alright?”

The girl didn’t answer; she merely stopped her weeping and turned around. The girl’s face was pale, but she was missing eyes and her eye sockets where dripping blood. Again he heard voices, but it was the cold one, and a new one. The new ones voice was deep, like a male nords.

“I won’t tell you anything milk-drinker!”

”Cut his daughter’s eyes out!”

Lorgar recognized the girl, which caused him to fall on his knees, and tremble in fear. The eyeless girl got up from the ground, and smiled at Lorgar, “A Legionary, are you here to help me?”

Lorgar said in a voice that was cracking, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

The girl chuckled softly, “Are you sorry you cut my eyes out? Or are your sorry you barricaded my family inside are cabin, while you lit it on fire? Or maybe how you slowly tortured my father, and stuffed his body in the hallowed out tree, which you set on fire, while he was still alive so he could hear his family scream out in pain as he burned to death!”

Lorgar couldn’t answer, and he began to feel cold all over his body. The spectre laughed again, she silently walked towards him,

“You’re a monster you know that? You hurt so many innocents during you operation in Bruma, you tortured anyone who you thought had a connection to the Stormcloak cells, anyone who you thought had information!”

Lorgar didn’t even bother to deny of it, since it was true. He had done everything the girl had said!

“You enjoyed it didn’t you? Ordering there deaths, personally torturing them!”

She was inches away from his face, she bloody eyes where now starring into his soul, Lorgar was in trance as he drew his own dagger without even knowing, and aimed it at his throat.

“Do it! You deserve it!”

Lorgar did deserve it. What he did to the people of Bruma haunted him every night, and he deserved to die by his own dagger, this was the only way he could atone for his sins. He breathed in sleep at long last-

*BOOM*

His eyes were suddenly blinded by a bright pale light, which caused him to drop his dagger and be thrown onto the ground. He could hear a dark shriek, and an older man’s voice, while old was filled with authority and courage,

BACK SHADE, IN THE NAME OF STENDAR GET AWAY FROM MY FLOCK!!!

Lorgar vision returned and he wasn’t in the cabin anymore. He was in the ruins of what seemed to be a destroyed cottage, and the thing infront of him would haunt Lorgar for the rest of his life. Tall, long dark hair, shrivelled black skin, long hands and nails, horrid face. It was a thing of nightmare. However standing between Lorgar and the spectre, was a man clad in robes. Lorgar could tell he wore plate armour underneath the robes, and he was holding an amulet of Stendar in one hand, and an ornate bottle in the other. He said to the spectre,

“In the name of Stendar, I order you to go to your final rest!”

The spectre laughed, and floated towards the man, flashing its long nails. The man flashed his bottle, causing liquid to spray all over the shade, in turn causing it to shriek in pain. It floated backwards, the man advanced, spraying the to what appeared to be sanctified water, while praying, “I am your divine wraith incarnate; I shall protect your flock from the dark.”

The shade tried to grapple onto the approaching man, but received a silver short blade in the gut for its trouble. The man thrusted his sword deeper into the shades stomach area, pinning it to the wall. It was screaming in utter agony, which the man ignored. He continued to pray, “I SAID GO BACK TO YOUR REST SPECTRE, YOU HAVE ALREADY DEVOURED ENOUGH INNOCENTS!!!”

Lorgar could see the shade start to dissipate, and grow darker. Soon, nothing remained of it, and him and the man were alone. The man got onto his knees, and said, “Father, I thank you for this victory.”

And with that man rushed to the downed Lorgar, offering a flask of something to Lorgar, “Drink my son.”

Lorgar complied, drinking the contents of the flask eagerly, he felt the warmth return to his body, and the stamina threw his limbs. Realising what this man was, Lorgar said, “Thank you father, I owe you my life.”

The priest smiled, before helping Lorgar stand. “It was my pleasure my child. I am Father William Nightabel, of the Vigilant of Stendar.”

Lorgar nodded, “I am Prefect Lorgar Grim-maw, Imperial legion.”

Father Nightabel nodded in response, before sheaving his silver blade. He waved Lorgar to follow him outside of the ruined cottage. When both men were out, the father threw a torch onto the ruins, causing it to catch on fire. Lorgar stood beside the man, watching the cottage burn, before asking in a shaky voice, “Father what was that?”

“We call them Wraiths, a sub-group of ghost.  Much more nasty then a regular one, and much more horrifying. From what we understand, there beings born from the spirits of females who died in horrifying circumstances. There main targets are usually males, but they have on the occasion preyed on females. From out encounters with them, they can conjure up the darkest memory from your soul, and infect the person’s mind with it, even their senses.”

Lorgar starred at the burning building, the priest simply said, “I won’t ask what you saw my son.”

And with that the two men turned around, and left the burning cottage. Lorgar had questions for the priest, “How did you know that thing was there?”

Father Nightabel, handed Lorgar book. It was titled “The Wood Cutter’s Wife”.

“Folklore led my here, along with rumours of travelers disappearing in these parts of the wood.”

“Wait, that thing was the wood cutters wife?”

“I don’t know how accurate the legend is, but yes, that was most likely what we know now as the Wood Cutter’s wife.”

The two men continued on there walk, before Lorgar spoke again, “Are all members of the Vigil priests?”
That caused the man to chuckled a bit, “No my son, a great deal of members aren’t members of the priesthood of Stendar. Though there still is a fair number who are.”

The man led Lorgar along a old forest path in the darkness, before turning around, and saying to Lorgar, “This is where we part way’s my child.”

Lorgar nodded before shaking the man’s hand.

“Once again, I thank father; you saved my life back there.”

“Don’t thank me my child, it’s my duty and my job.”

And with that, the priest left Lorgar in the dark woods, who sprinted as fast as he could back to the imperial camp.

[The Good Doctor]

Eduard Laenius- Outside of Falkreath, Day 8 of the Siege, Night

 

Eduard was restless, as he paced around his bed. He wasn’t going to be able to go to bed, not with this much energy. As always, he decided he was going to his favorite spot to wind down.

Maybe get a tiny bit of training as well, he thought.

So he slipped away from camp, taking his ebony scimitars along with his bow. As he began to head towards his spot, he picked up some noises in the woods. This wasn’t uncommon, as this was the woods. Although, he was able to tell that the noises weren’t coming from the normal animals he would hear during the medium distance walk to his spot.

It seems some fools are following me. Now, how do I want to approach this?

He decided that he would just keep walking, and act unaware of their presence. There seemed to be quite a few of them, by the sounds. They were quiet, but now quiet enough. At the very least, they were smart enough to start tailing him once he was out of earshot of the camp.

I guess this would be a good time to test out the defenses at my spot.

He figured there were about ten or so men following him. Eduard figured that he would be able to take about five or six of them with the traps surrounding his spot. He would be left to fight the last four. Although judging by their failed attempt at stealthily tailing him that wouldn’t be too big a problem.

Alright, time to do this, he thought, as he began to approach the small familiar clearing.

Something was off though. He looked around, and figured out the problem. One of the traps had been disarmed. This wasn’t a big problem though, as the only reason he rigged that trap was to alert himself of anyone visiting his spot. So it had inadvertently done its job. The lethal traps were still armed, and that was all that really mattered.

As he stepped into the middle of his spot, figures began to appear in the surroundings as he had expected. There were twelve men, of varying race and size.

“Well, it looks like you weren’t so hard to corner after all,” one of the men said, laughing. “We’ve been trying to get to you for a while Eduard. We tried to nab your sister, but you obviously thought about her first. So we decided to be a little more direct.”

Looking around, Eduard smiled.

“Well, you’ve found me. Now you just got to get me, right?”

A few of the men were thrown off a bit by Eduard’s display.

“That is correct. So, do you want to just come with us, or will we have to drag you out of here?” barked the man who originally greeted him. It seemed as though he was the ringleader for this little group of mercenaries.

“I think I would enjoy a ride, since you asked,” Eduard said, giving off a believable, but false sense of confidence.

“Well, first, I will have to ask you to disarm your traps. I don’t want to get hurt, you know.”

It seems the ringleader is smarter than I thought. I’ll have to adjust my...

Mid-thought, Eduard felt it.

“Fine by me, I’ve been looking for live targets to practice with. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find people for this,” he said, disarming the traps. I had better be right on this.

With that, the ringleader signaled for the men to begin to advance towards Eduard.

Then, without a sound, the group began to drop like flies. Three of them had already died by the time anyone had figured out something was going on. In the confusion, Eduard leapt into action himself.

He pulled out his bow, and quickly fired two shots. The first shot lodged itself directly in an Imperial’s throat, spraying blood everywhere. The next shot hit a Nord in between the eyes, which almost gave Eduard a chuckle. It had been a while since he had done that. The ringleader was up in Eduard’s face now, and swinging two maces like a madman. Eduard wisely rolled out of the way, and slit another man’s throat in the process. Popping up a safe distance from the enemies, with both swords drawn, it was finally clear what was going on. He heard the familiar voice of his friend.

“These fools were too busy doing a poor job of trailing you to even begin to think of keeping an eye out for me. Not that they could found me anyways, but they didn’t even try.”

“Screw you! We’ll just kill you too now, you idiot!” The ringleader yelled, obviously not as comfortable as he was before.

Jon, you could’ve warned me earlier,” Eduard said, analyzing the current situation. It was now Jon and himself, versus the six remaining goons.

“I’ll explain later. Let us show these fools how real mercenaries fight, shall we?”

Eduard nodded. “Front left over back right.”

With that, Eduard and Jon sprung back into action, taking the men off guard.

Jon simply disappeared as he charged the men in the front left, before reappearing in the back right, with a loud sound.

With a few of the men distracted by Jon, Eduard quickly went to work. The first man didnm’t even have time to turn around before Eduard had slit his throat in two places. The next man was able to put up a futile block before he was run through by a scimitar. The third guy reacted much better, and blocked a few blows, and tried to counter with a blow of his own. Eduard saw it coming though, and ducked under the swing, stabbing upward into the goon’s stomach. It was obvious that other than the ringleader, none of these fools had much fighting experience. They didn’t have good instincts either.

While Eduard was dispatching the men on the left, Jon dealt with the two men on the right. They didn’t last long, as a flurry of sword swings and magical tricks quickly brought about their demise.

Eduard then turned his sights on the ringleader, who was trying to make an escape. Jon was about to track him down, but Eduard told him to stay put.

“He isn’t going anywhere Jon,” Eduard said, drawing his bow.

He quickly lined up the shot, and put a heavily poisoned arrow into the fleeing Breton. It was a much faster acting version of the same poison that he used on Jodun, except for a couple differences. The effect would wear off in about 6 hours. During those three hours, the man would be in extreme pain. Not that he would be able to do anything about it.

“He is all yours Jon. I don’t really have time to be interrogating. But make sure you report your findings to me as soon as you can. Also, how did you know to find me here?”

“I understand. As for knowing where to be, they unknowingly tipped me off. They attempted to trail me the last time we met. I lost them quickly, and secretly overheard them talking about switching their plans. They were no longer going to try and find where Livia was, and instead just try and capture you. So I wired up the defense system back at the house, and trailed them.”

“I see. Good to know you haven’t lost your combat edge, Jon.”

That got a small laugh from Jon. “I keep myself pretty active. It’s good to know you remember all of the small group strategies you developed from years ago. You’re a damn genius, you know.”

“Yes, I do know,” Eduard said, cleaning his blades. “Now, I trust you know what information to get from the mercenary, so we don’t need to discuss that. In fact, we don’t have too much left to discuss at all. Although I have to say it was a blast getting to work with you again. Once we figure out who has been trying to get at me, and subsequently end their life, you should consider joining up with me.”

“Well, if you are ever in need of me, I do know someone that could take care of Livia for a short while. Don’t worry, they have My seal of approval.”

“Really? That isn’t easy to earn. I’ll keep that in mind. Well, I need to get back to camp. Can’t have everybody looking for me.”

Eduard searched around, and found a bag of gold. “Here, I couldn’t have you clean this all up for free. Although, feel free to bring the ringleader back after your done with him. I’ll have some questions for him as well. As always, try not to let Livia figure everything out.”

Taking the bag of gold, Jon laughed.

“That’s the most difficult part of the job, you know. She’s got your intuition.”

No, we have my mother’s intuition.

“Yeah, she’s a crafty one. Well, I’ll be seeing you Jon.”

“Looking forward to it. Although, the least you could do is stack the bodies with me. I’ll handle the rest.”

Eduard laughed. “Sure thing. I didn’t give you that much gold anyways.”

At the end of the night, Eduard had gotten his training in after all.

[The Good Doctor]

Boldir

Falkreath Longhouse

Day 8 of siege

 

"You're going to be okay, just hang in there.”

“...Damnit! You aren't ready to join me yet!”

Jodun? Am I alive?

"Yes. Just try to clear your head.”

Everything is black Jodun. What is going on?

"You're unconscious. Just focus on one thing. Anything-“

Carlotta.

“Just clear your head. Your friends-“

Baldur and Rebec.

“-will take care of you."

"Out of the way!” Baldur? “Skjari, do it."

Who in Oblivion is Skjari? What is going on? Why am I unconscious?

...

 

"Don't you dare leave us, Blofur, or you'll be due for an ass kicking when I get to Sovngarde. If they let sailors in there."

...

 

"Your body is recovering from shock. You can concern yourself with all this when you're awake. For now, just try to relax and rest your mind."

Rest my mind? Yeah... that sounds good.

 

***

 

After laying for the whole afternoon and well into the night, Boldir stirred in bed for the first time since the healing. As he did, his eyes slowly came open. When he saw that he was laying on his own bed, wearing not his armor, but just some sack cloth pants, Boldir grew confused. Where had I fallen asleep? In hopes that a guard outside would hear him, Boldir shouted out.

"He-" Ahhh! What the-?

Boldir's shout had cut short by an intense pain in his neck. Now he was even more confused. Why does my throat feel like it's been set on fire? He felt around his neck area. Doesn't feel like I've got any wounds or scars. Weird. I guess I won't be shouting for a bit.

Boldir slowly sat up. His stomach grumbled as he did. How long was I out? 

He looked across the room to his desk. On it, he could see what looked like a plate of chicken, some sweetrolls, and a bottle of mead. He rose out of his bed and went over to sit in the chair in front of the large meal. In front of him was an entire roasted chicken and a plate of six sweetrolls, both of which smelled delicious. He hadn't seen a meal like this in a long time. He certainly didn't expect one with the rationing going on. He picked up the bottle of mead and read the label. It was not the cheap stuff. This was Black-Briar Mead. He saw below that it had juniper berries in it. Baldur.

Boldir set the bottle back down and reached to tear off a leg of the chicken when he spotted a note at the back of the desk. He picked it up and read over it:

Boldir,

This is my last bottle of this stuff. It's my absolute favorite mead. So if you die, let me know so I can get it back, and so I can come to Sovngarde and kick your ass. You still have to get back to Carlotta remember? Don't die on me, brother. You still need to help me build that town.

Baldur

P.S. The negotiations went well. The battle will happen sometime tomorrow or the day after.

Boldir put the note down. So Baldur and Rebec made it back okay. But what happened before that?

His eyes went back down to the chicken. I'll worry about that when I'm done eating..

Boldir quickly ripped off one of the legs and began to eat it clean to the bone. Eating hurt his throat. It didn't hurt as badly as shouting, but it still hurt quite a lot. But Boldir was hungry enough that he didn't much care. He did the same to the other leg, and just over half the rest of the chicken. He then ate two of the six sweetrolls and finished with half the bottle of mead. He could have downed the whole bottle, but he decided to save the rest for later. Thank. You. Baldur. Now what happened to warrant this?

Boldir looked around his room. His armor and axes were by the wall beside the bed. His satchel was with them. He walked over to it and began to suit up. Once prepared, he left his room and headed downstairs. All the while, he tried to recollect what had happened to him.

Okay, so I fought that big Imperial, Malik. Then I brought him to the prison, where I...

You tortured him.

Right. Then you convinced me to stop, which I did.

And then that guard called you to the stairs. Said something about a killing.

That's right! And then... And then I saw that civilian on the stairs. He said something about me being a pain in his ass. He must've been the man we've been looking for. The one in charge. But what happened after that?

That's it. That's as far as it went. That guard must've been with him. He must've knocked you out.

That makes sense. I wonder if they got away... And what about my neck? Why does it hurt so much?

You don't think they...

Cut my throat? That would explain a lot. Like that little episode while I was out. Did I almost die then? But there's no scar. I guess A good mage could've healed that. I'll ask Baldur about everything in the morning... Shit. I did almost die didn't I?

From the blown out portion of the front of the Longhouse, Boldir looked up at the moon and stars. It must've been past midnight. He wasn't tired though, after sleeping through the afternoon, he wasn't ready to go right back to bed. He knew everyone else was likely to be asleep by now. Boldir shrugged to himself and returned to his room, where he wrapped up the remaining food and stowed the remaining mead under the bed. Afterwards, Boldir sat back at the desk and pulled out his flute. He made sure the door was closed and began to very quietly play. At first, it was his song for Carlotta, but he began to change it up, adding a lower, more violent tone to it as it progressed, becoming more fitting for a wartime than one of peace. As he played, Boldir thought of the past few weeks. Of the battle of Pale Pass. Of Baldur's capture and return. Of Jodun's death. He thought of Thalmor he'd tortured, and then the Imperial just this past day. And how he and his allies, people living under his nose, had managed to defeat him. By dawn, Boldir was no longer playing his love song for Carlotta. He had made up an entirely new song altogether.

[The Good Doctor]

Lorgar Grim-maw, Night, Falkreath forest 

This was one of the few times in recent memory Lorgar just wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to forget the horror which happened merely an hour ago. He walked in silence under the pale moon and the stars, until he heard crying.

www hell no, I've had enough encounters with the supernatural for one day, thank you!

But this time the crying wasn't normal. In other words it didn't send shivers down Lorgar's spine. Lorgar's curiosity got the best of him, and he searched for the source of the crying,. Sprinting across the tress and over the grass, he came across a small clearing in the woods.

This is starting to look familiar.

In the center of the glade, weeping over a moss covered log, and illuminated by the moonlight was Princess Dales Motierre.

What the hell, what the fuck is the Princess doing here?!

Make no mistake, it was Dales. She wore her usual pink frilly dress, and her trademark golden hair was quite visible. He also noticed her black dagger stuck deeply in the log.  This day was getting weirder and weirder. Militant Priests, scary demonic ghost girls, now crying princess, what a day.

He didn't want to surprise the girl, so he decided to take the visible approach. He made himself known, "Princess Dales? It's me, Prefect Lorgar Grim-maw."

The princess squealed in surprise, and looked up. She blushed in embarrassment, and feebly tried to wipe away all of the tears on her face. Lorgar put his hands up, "It's fine Princess, don't take me into account, cry all you want."

Lorgar shouldn't have said that, since in response the Princess started to cry even more.

Oh shit

He approached the princess, before sitting beside her on the log. Luckily for Lorgar, he knew how to comfort people in times of sorrow (His cousin Frea was a complete cry baby when she was younger). He wrapped his arms around the princess, and rubbed her back gently, while saying, "Shhhhhh, it's okay, it's okay. I'm here."

The crying grew even louder, as she buried her face into Lorgar's shoulder.  She said in emotion stained voice, "Im a monster Prefect."

Despite the atmosphere, the circumstances, and the person he was talking to, Lorgar couldn't help but flash his wolf-like grin, and say in a slightly sarcastic tone, "Princess, I have no doubt our definitions of monster are completely different.

"It's true!" she said, apparently not detecting the sarcasm in Lorgar's voice.

Lorgar deicide to humour her, "Why would you think that way of yourself milady?"

That caused the princess to have a breakdown of tears and weeps. Lorgar had done it again. Lorgar tried to calm her down, "Shhhhh, it's okay Dales, you don't have to cry."

After fifteen minutes, Lorgar had succeeded in calming her down enough for her to properly speak. She told him how they tortured Vandili, how she enjoyed it, how she ripped his eyes out with her dagger and hands, and how she felt utter hate and fury towards him, and how good she felt when they were going to blood-dragon him.

"Blood dragon huh? A disgusting and barbaric practice, I think it originated from Atmora. It does suit Baldur quite well though."

The princess was simply starring at the trees; tears once again forming in her eyes, her face was buried in her arms. "I'm a monster right?"

Lorgar, genuinely and warmly smiled at the girl, he took her small hand into his large palm, and said, "No, I donâ't think you'e a monster Dales. A monster wouldn't feel so guilty about what she did, you do."

"That..that doesn't change anything."

"Yes it does, it proves how big and great your heart is, if you feel sorry for doing something to someone who murdered a love one. That fact of the matter is you feel immense guilt for torturing the elf, and guilt for wanting too hurt him even more. You'e a good person."

"I'm not a good person! I was this close to crossing the line! If it wasn't for General Red-Snow..."

Baldur stopped her? That's surprising... "But you didn't cross the line, regardless if Baldur helped you. Dales, look at me."

Lorgar starred directly into her tear stained eyes, "At the end of the day, you are one of the kindest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. You haven't crossed the line that separates you from your humanity; you still have it. You may no longer have your innocence, for innocence always ends, but you still have your humanity at the end of the day. You're no monster. You're still human...now come my lady. We should return."

Lorgar offered Dales his hand, which she gratefully accepted. And the two walked out of the moon-light covered grove, back to the imperial camp.

Dales couldn't see it, but under Lorgar's black hood, tears were welling up in his eyes.