Post by simonstormcloak on Jun 22, 2012 16:09:01 GMT -5
Fort Greenwall, 17th Last Seed, 4E401.
Helvir stoked the flames and turned to his friend Jorvar.
"It's a really cold night."
"What did you expect?" Said Jorvar. "It is Skyrim, after all."
"I guess so. But somehow, this fire isn't warm enough."
"Maybe it's burning out. Want me to go get some wood?"
"Sure, maybe that'll help."
Jorvar grabbed an axe from his tent and went into the woods. A few minutes later, he came back with two logs.
"Hey, Helvir?"
"Yes?"
"The men you kill... Do they haunt you?"
"Well..."
"I mean, only a beast kills without feeling, right?"
"I guess. But if we didn't kill them, they would've killed us."
"They say you get used to it after a while. I don't know if that's good or not."
"Who knows, really..."
Jorvar was cut off by a horn blowing.
"Imperials." Said Helvir. He grabbed his Waraxe and ran to the gate. Jorvar stumbled to grab his Warhammer and sprinted to the south flank.
Imperials were coming out of the forest on horseback. They were led by a huge Legionnary in heavy armor. The general stood at the gate of the fort.
"Helvir, get to the Northeast turret! Falin, Right flank! Hvelga, guard the front gate with Nura and Hvort! I will be at the front with Aelvan and Jorvar! Droth and Vulan, I need you to make sure nobody enters through the back! The rest of you, Defensive Formation!"
The Imperials charged on horseback. Helvir readied his bow.
Remember training, he thought. One second, find a target. He locked on to a Legionnary staying behind with a few others.
Two seconds, take aim. He made sure not to break his line of sight. Three seconds, draw. He drew his bow and focused. Four seconds, Hold your breath. He did so, helping him concentrate.
Five, Fire. It hit the target straight in the neck. The Legionnary fell off his horse and bled out quick. Helvir then noticed that the enemy was almost breaking through the main entrance. Hvort was already down, and Nura needed some help. Helvir jumped down from his position and drew his axe. He swung and hit an Imperial in the chest, spun around, dodged a sword attack, disarmed one, then chucked a dagger at another, using the disarmed Imperial as a human shield, being pelted by arrows. He threw down the body and grabbed an Imperial's arm. He punched the Imperial in the face, kneed him and then broke his neck. Jorvar wasn't having nearly as much fun. He swung at an Imperial, missed, hit the wall and broke his Hammer. He reacted by smashing that Imperial's head in the wall. One crept up behind him, a fatal mistake. Jorvar twisted the man's wrist and plunged a dagger into his eye. Aelvan fought off several Imperials before being cut down, and the general had gone to fight at the back gate with Droth, as Vulan had been killed.
The fight went on for several hours, and by the time the battle was over, only Falin, Nura, Jorvar, Helvir and the General were left standing. And the survivors also had tremendous wounds. Falin had lost an eye, Nura was out cold, Jorvar had a large cut on his back and the general was near death. Helvir seemed to be the only one unwounded. Afterwards, Nura was resting in the tents, Jorvar was writing a letter home, the General was planning, and Falin and Helvir took a walk.
'Dear Helena,' Jorvar wrote. 'I have been in the Rift for two months, now. The weather is cold as always, and the Imperials are relentless in trying to take Riften. Jarl Ulfric has promised reinforcements, but that was two weeks ago. We were attacked today, and the results were devastating. I've been here so long, I've forgotten what day it is. Morndas, right? seventeenth of last seed, fourth era, two-hundred and one. I wonder how we've managed to survive this long. I hope this war is over soon. Don't we all? Maybe I should retire. But I can't for that would be much too cowardly. You Bretons don't know courage like Nords. I'm running low on ink, so I must finish. I love you, -Jorvar.'
Jorvar finished his letter just as his quill ran out of ink. Meanwhile, Falin and Helvir were having a discussion in the barracks.
"A courier told me that Ulfric was captured." Falin said.
"The Jarl? How?"
"Exactly. That's where it gets weird. He was near Darkwater Crossing when a bunch of Imperials jumped out of the woods and ambushed him."
"How is that weird?"
"Well, General Tullius led the attack..."
"Tullius! That scoundrel..."
"Also, Ulfric gave up without a fight."
"What? How Cowardly of him! I hope he had good reason."
"Oh but he did. He was greatly outnumbered, and he knew he wouldn't win."
"So much for his 'Death or Glory' reputation."
"Yes, but now it gets very strange. The courier told me that a dragon attacked and destroyed the town."
"A... Dragon? That can't be! Are you sure the courier wasn't-"
"Drunk? Yes. I asked him. He said he'd been dry for three days."
"Did Ulfric escape?"
"Fortunately, yes."
"Well, that's... Crazy."
"Of course it is! But we shouldn't tell anyone until it's confirmed."
"We should sleep now. Hopefully there won't be an attack tomorrow."
Falin and Helvir went to their bedrolls. Tomorrow should be better, Helvir thought as he drifted off to sleep.
***
Rift Imperial Camp, 18th of Last Seed, 4E201.
Legate Fasendil woke up to the smell of Roasted Rabbit.
"Mmmm... Rabbit?"
The missionary Draconius answered.
"Nah, Venison."
"Hmm? All the way out here in the Rift?"
"Yeah. We found a whole bunch of 'em in the forest. Turns out, the Rift isn't all swampy marshland. Look around, and you see a lot of trees."
"Well..." Fasendil grunted and got up. "I've never really got to explore much, with all the raids and stuff."
Fasendil pulled his cuirass over his shirt, and put on his boots, bracers and greaves.
"You know what I've noticed, Draco?"
"Yeah?"
"Our armor doesn't have pauldrons. Have you noticed that?"
"Well, our soldiers in Morrowind have pauldrons..."
"Yeah, same in the Imperial City. But here? Like, seriously. With Nordic armor, your arms are always exposed. Yet nobody seems to care."
"It's kept us alive so far, right Commander?"
"I guess. But last night's raid didn't go too well."
"You've got to admit, they're really tough."
"Definitely. Sometimes I wish I was on their side."
Draconius was appalled.
"Fasendil! How could you say that?"
"I can say it because..." He paused, then looked up.
"Because I hate the Thalmor."
"Don't we all?"
"It's not just that. This Empire is a puppet. A puppet of a stupid Dominion from a stupid Province that hails a stupid race."
"Commander, you're a-"
"High Elf? An Altmer? You think I don't know this? You think I want to be a stupid f**king ELF? I want to be a Nord, an Imperial, even a Gods-Damned Breton! I do NOT hold with the Dominion's Ideals. I do NOT support them at all! I hate this stupid Empire, this damn puppet of the Thalmor! I may be an Elf, but at heart, I'm a Stormcloak!"
The whole camp was staring in awe at Fasendil's sudden outburst. It wasn't everyday a High Elf Legionnary hates the Dominion and likes the Stormcloaks.
After a long moment of silence, Draco laughed.
"You can't be- Hehe-serious, right Fasendil?"
"You don't think I'm serious?" He said. He went into his tent, and came out a few moments later with an Amulet of Talos.
"Oh yeah," He said. "I'm serious."
***
Fort Greenwall, Noon.
Helvir was getting tired. The only exciting he'd seen all day was a Bear chase a Rabbit. The Rabbit got away, and Falin killed the bear and took it's pelt. Before he decided to doze off, Nura, who was reading a book, looked up and shouted;
"Helvir, look!"
Helvir stumbled for his bow.
"What is it? A Troll?"
"No. A horse!"
"What in Oblivion..."
It was a gigantic convoy of Imperials. Led by General Tullius.
"Oh no... Everyone out! Imperials!"
The general rushed out of his tent with his enchanted battleaxe.
Falin and Jorvar came out of the fort.
"Everyone up to the gate!" Said the General.
"Oh gods..."
"By the Nine!"
The convoy was composed by eight carriages full of soldiers, not to mention about fifty men on horseback. With them were about thirty Alik'r warriors. Also, there were about sixty Dunmer. Beside General Tullius was the High Elf Legate, Fasendil. And on the other side was Legate Rikke, with a smile on her face.
The General stepped forward.
"Well, well. General Tullius. No reason to send the whole legion on us."
"That's not what we're here for. Ulfric?"
Ulfric Stormcloak stepped out from behind Tullius, dressed in full battle armor.
The Stormcloaks at the fort also noticed that some of the Imperial Soldiers that were in the carts and on the horses were fellow Stormcloaks.
"Do not worry, friends. I'll explain it all on the carriage."
***
Now, are you wondering why Ulfric is suddenly with the Legion? I bet you are. And I bet you've figured it out already.
Fasendil, by now a huge Stormcloak sympathizer, had rallied Imperial Legates to have a council meeting with General Tullius. Over the course of a few weeks, the Legates swayed him, and so Tullius pleaded his case to the Emperor. Titus said that he couldn't send Legion troops from Cyrodill, and that Skyrim had to make do on it's own. General Tullius then seeked help from Hammerfell, who happily agreed to send troops to fight the Dominion. The Tribunal in Morrowind took a little persuasion, but eventually they agreed. Now, Skyrim was ready to eradicate the Aldmeri Dominion.
***
"Fellow Nords, Imperials, Dunmer, Redguards. We are gathered here today to fight an evil. An evil worse than Jagar Tharn, worse than Mehrunes Dagon, worse than the God Alduin himself! We fight an evil called the Aldmeri Dominion.
"These Altmer, these stupid, snobby Thalmor, they think they're so much better than us. Today we will prove them wrong!
"It has been thirty years ago today, that we went to war with this evil. But we were caught off guard, and so we must not do so again! And so on this thirtieth of Frostfall, Fourth Era Two Hundred and one, we go to war again! My friends, WELCOME TO THE SECOND GREAT WAR!"
The crowd cheered at Ulfric's speech. Over five thousand warriors, fighting for their freedom. Beside Ulfric was the King of Morrowind, Helseth Hlaalu. Along with them was an ambassador from Hammerfell. General Tullius was beside Ulfric, with Legate Rikke at his side. On the other side of Ulfric was Galmar Stone-Fist. The army had assembled in front of the Thalmor Embassy, with their swords drawn. A Thalmor General came out of the Embassy.
"By the Eight..."
"The NINE, you mean. Right?" Said Ulfric.
"What in Oblivion is going on?"
"This." said Tullius.
He drew his bow, shot, and hit the Thalmor Soldier straight in the eye.
It was the first shot of the Aldmeri War.
Helvir stoked the flames and turned to his friend Jorvar.
"It's a really cold night."
"What did you expect?" Said Jorvar. "It is Skyrim, after all."
"I guess so. But somehow, this fire isn't warm enough."
"Maybe it's burning out. Want me to go get some wood?"
"Sure, maybe that'll help."
Jorvar grabbed an axe from his tent and went into the woods. A few minutes later, he came back with two logs.
"Hey, Helvir?"
"Yes?"
"The men you kill... Do they haunt you?"
"Well..."
"I mean, only a beast kills without feeling, right?"
"I guess. But if we didn't kill them, they would've killed us."
"They say you get used to it after a while. I don't know if that's good or not."
"Who knows, really..."
Jorvar was cut off by a horn blowing.
"Imperials." Said Helvir. He grabbed his Waraxe and ran to the gate. Jorvar stumbled to grab his Warhammer and sprinted to the south flank.
Imperials were coming out of the forest on horseback. They were led by a huge Legionnary in heavy armor. The general stood at the gate of the fort.
"Helvir, get to the Northeast turret! Falin, Right flank! Hvelga, guard the front gate with Nura and Hvort! I will be at the front with Aelvan and Jorvar! Droth and Vulan, I need you to make sure nobody enters through the back! The rest of you, Defensive Formation!"
The Imperials charged on horseback. Helvir readied his bow.
Remember training, he thought. One second, find a target. He locked on to a Legionnary staying behind with a few others.
Two seconds, take aim. He made sure not to break his line of sight. Three seconds, draw. He drew his bow and focused. Four seconds, Hold your breath. He did so, helping him concentrate.
Five, Fire. It hit the target straight in the neck. The Legionnary fell off his horse and bled out quick. Helvir then noticed that the enemy was almost breaking through the main entrance. Hvort was already down, and Nura needed some help. Helvir jumped down from his position and drew his axe. He swung and hit an Imperial in the chest, spun around, dodged a sword attack, disarmed one, then chucked a dagger at another, using the disarmed Imperial as a human shield, being pelted by arrows. He threw down the body and grabbed an Imperial's arm. He punched the Imperial in the face, kneed him and then broke his neck. Jorvar wasn't having nearly as much fun. He swung at an Imperial, missed, hit the wall and broke his Hammer. He reacted by smashing that Imperial's head in the wall. One crept up behind him, a fatal mistake. Jorvar twisted the man's wrist and plunged a dagger into his eye. Aelvan fought off several Imperials before being cut down, and the general had gone to fight at the back gate with Droth, as Vulan had been killed.
The fight went on for several hours, and by the time the battle was over, only Falin, Nura, Jorvar, Helvir and the General were left standing. And the survivors also had tremendous wounds. Falin had lost an eye, Nura was out cold, Jorvar had a large cut on his back and the general was near death. Helvir seemed to be the only one unwounded. Afterwards, Nura was resting in the tents, Jorvar was writing a letter home, the General was planning, and Falin and Helvir took a walk.
'Dear Helena,' Jorvar wrote. 'I have been in the Rift for two months, now. The weather is cold as always, and the Imperials are relentless in trying to take Riften. Jarl Ulfric has promised reinforcements, but that was two weeks ago. We were attacked today, and the results were devastating. I've been here so long, I've forgotten what day it is. Morndas, right? seventeenth of last seed, fourth era, two-hundred and one. I wonder how we've managed to survive this long. I hope this war is over soon. Don't we all? Maybe I should retire. But I can't for that would be much too cowardly. You Bretons don't know courage like Nords. I'm running low on ink, so I must finish. I love you, -Jorvar.'
Jorvar finished his letter just as his quill ran out of ink. Meanwhile, Falin and Helvir were having a discussion in the barracks.
"A courier told me that Ulfric was captured." Falin said.
"The Jarl? How?"
"Exactly. That's where it gets weird. He was near Darkwater Crossing when a bunch of Imperials jumped out of the woods and ambushed him."
"How is that weird?"
"Well, General Tullius led the attack..."
"Tullius! That scoundrel..."
"Also, Ulfric gave up without a fight."
"What? How Cowardly of him! I hope he had good reason."
"Oh but he did. He was greatly outnumbered, and he knew he wouldn't win."
"So much for his 'Death or Glory' reputation."
"Yes, but now it gets very strange. The courier told me that a dragon attacked and destroyed the town."
"A... Dragon? That can't be! Are you sure the courier wasn't-"
"Drunk? Yes. I asked him. He said he'd been dry for three days."
"Did Ulfric escape?"
"Fortunately, yes."
"Well, that's... Crazy."
"Of course it is! But we shouldn't tell anyone until it's confirmed."
"We should sleep now. Hopefully there won't be an attack tomorrow."
Falin and Helvir went to their bedrolls. Tomorrow should be better, Helvir thought as he drifted off to sleep.
***
Rift Imperial Camp, 18th of Last Seed, 4E201.
Legate Fasendil woke up to the smell of Roasted Rabbit.
"Mmmm... Rabbit?"
The missionary Draconius answered.
"Nah, Venison."
"Hmm? All the way out here in the Rift?"
"Yeah. We found a whole bunch of 'em in the forest. Turns out, the Rift isn't all swampy marshland. Look around, and you see a lot of trees."
"Well..." Fasendil grunted and got up. "I've never really got to explore much, with all the raids and stuff."
Fasendil pulled his cuirass over his shirt, and put on his boots, bracers and greaves.
"You know what I've noticed, Draco?"
"Yeah?"
"Our armor doesn't have pauldrons. Have you noticed that?"
"Well, our soldiers in Morrowind have pauldrons..."
"Yeah, same in the Imperial City. But here? Like, seriously. With Nordic armor, your arms are always exposed. Yet nobody seems to care."
"It's kept us alive so far, right Commander?"
"I guess. But last night's raid didn't go too well."
"You've got to admit, they're really tough."
"Definitely. Sometimes I wish I was on their side."
Draconius was appalled.
"Fasendil! How could you say that?"
"I can say it because..." He paused, then looked up.
"Because I hate the Thalmor."
"Don't we all?"
"It's not just that. This Empire is a puppet. A puppet of a stupid Dominion from a stupid Province that hails a stupid race."
"Commander, you're a-"
"High Elf? An Altmer? You think I don't know this? You think I want to be a stupid f**king ELF? I want to be a Nord, an Imperial, even a Gods-Damned Breton! I do NOT hold with the Dominion's Ideals. I do NOT support them at all! I hate this stupid Empire, this damn puppet of the Thalmor! I may be an Elf, but at heart, I'm a Stormcloak!"
The whole camp was staring in awe at Fasendil's sudden outburst. It wasn't everyday a High Elf Legionnary hates the Dominion and likes the Stormcloaks.
After a long moment of silence, Draco laughed.
"You can't be- Hehe-serious, right Fasendil?"
"You don't think I'm serious?" He said. He went into his tent, and came out a few moments later with an Amulet of Talos.
"Oh yeah," He said. "I'm serious."
***
Fort Greenwall, Noon.
Helvir was getting tired. The only exciting he'd seen all day was a Bear chase a Rabbit. The Rabbit got away, and Falin killed the bear and took it's pelt. Before he decided to doze off, Nura, who was reading a book, looked up and shouted;
"Helvir, look!"
Helvir stumbled for his bow.
"What is it? A Troll?"
"No. A horse!"
"What in Oblivion..."
It was a gigantic convoy of Imperials. Led by General Tullius.
"Oh no... Everyone out! Imperials!"
The general rushed out of his tent with his enchanted battleaxe.
Falin and Jorvar came out of the fort.
"Everyone up to the gate!" Said the General.
"Oh gods..."
"By the Nine!"
The convoy was composed by eight carriages full of soldiers, not to mention about fifty men on horseback. With them were about thirty Alik'r warriors. Also, there were about sixty Dunmer. Beside General Tullius was the High Elf Legate, Fasendil. And on the other side was Legate Rikke, with a smile on her face.
The General stepped forward.
"Well, well. General Tullius. No reason to send the whole legion on us."
"That's not what we're here for. Ulfric?"
Ulfric Stormcloak stepped out from behind Tullius, dressed in full battle armor.
The Stormcloaks at the fort also noticed that some of the Imperial Soldiers that were in the carts and on the horses were fellow Stormcloaks.
"Do not worry, friends. I'll explain it all on the carriage."
***
Now, are you wondering why Ulfric is suddenly with the Legion? I bet you are. And I bet you've figured it out already.
Fasendil, by now a huge Stormcloak sympathizer, had rallied Imperial Legates to have a council meeting with General Tullius. Over the course of a few weeks, the Legates swayed him, and so Tullius pleaded his case to the Emperor. Titus said that he couldn't send Legion troops from Cyrodill, and that Skyrim had to make do on it's own. General Tullius then seeked help from Hammerfell, who happily agreed to send troops to fight the Dominion. The Tribunal in Morrowind took a little persuasion, but eventually they agreed. Now, Skyrim was ready to eradicate the Aldmeri Dominion.
***
"Fellow Nords, Imperials, Dunmer, Redguards. We are gathered here today to fight an evil. An evil worse than Jagar Tharn, worse than Mehrunes Dagon, worse than the God Alduin himself! We fight an evil called the Aldmeri Dominion.
"These Altmer, these stupid, snobby Thalmor, they think they're so much better than us. Today we will prove them wrong!
"It has been thirty years ago today, that we went to war with this evil. But we were caught off guard, and so we must not do so again! And so on this thirtieth of Frostfall, Fourth Era Two Hundred and one, we go to war again! My friends, WELCOME TO THE SECOND GREAT WAR!"
The crowd cheered at Ulfric's speech. Over five thousand warriors, fighting for their freedom. Beside Ulfric was the King of Morrowind, Helseth Hlaalu. Along with them was an ambassador from Hammerfell. General Tullius was beside Ulfric, with Legate Rikke at his side. On the other side of Ulfric was Galmar Stone-Fist. The army had assembled in front of the Thalmor Embassy, with their swords drawn. A Thalmor General came out of the Embassy.
"By the Eight..."
"The NINE, you mean. Right?" Said Ulfric.
"What in Oblivion is going on?"
"This." said Tullius.
He drew his bow, shot, and hit the Thalmor Soldier straight in the eye.
It was the first shot of the Aldmeri War.