Post by Will on Sept 5, 2011 14:26:51 GMT -5
This is the winner of my “Give me Ideas” thread. It was CheeseSauce13 who sparked this idea, and about the only person who responded to the topic in the desired manner. No details, just the basic 4 things I asked for. He listened, and that’s why he won. Presenting- Origin of the Stormcloak. Enjoy.
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You ride towards the large iron-barred gate leading into the great city of Windhelm, dragging your heavy gold-filled cart along behind you. As you reach the gate, a guard runs over to meet you.
“What is your business here, Khajiit?” He shouted, his hand on the hilt of his longsword.
You dismount your horse and throw off the sheet covering your cart, revealing piles of gold coins and shining gems. “I am S’Raka, a mercenary working for Lord Carius of Windhelm. He sent me to collect a large sum of money from an ‘old friend’ and I am here to deliver it. As you can see I have no weapons, please allow me to enter the city.”
The guard begins turning the large crank and the portcullis slowly rises. “Sorry for the rude greeting, sir, but after that business with the Necromancers in Rifton, we can’t be too careful.”
“Aye. How a Necromancer managed to infiltrate the Mages there, I’ll never understand. Please stable my horse and get her a bag of feed,” you said, handing twenty Septims to the guard, continuing through the gate and pulling the cart by foot. You could see Lord Carius’ estate towering over the city in the distance. You drag the heavy cart of gold through the city.
Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself at the gate of Carius Manor, and ring the massive bell hanging from the guard tower outside his gate. The large iron gate slowly swings open, most likely powered by magic, as there was not a man in sight. You walk through the gate towards the large mansion, and see three guards run out to help you drag the heavy cart.
“Thank you, men. That is no easy task without my horse. May I enter to speak with the Lord?”
The guards begin shoving the cart towards the mansion, grunting in effort. The three of them could not move it any faster than you could alone. You smiled at this small detail. “Of course, he eagerly awaits your arrival,” one of the human guards grunted as he pushed the cart. “We will deliver this cart to be emptied into his vault, the Lord should be in his study up the stairs in the entrance hall.”
You move quickly past the struggling guards, and into the mansion. You ascend the towering staircase, covered in an ornately stitched decorative carpet, likely crafted by the Dunmer of Morrowind. You see a large door at the top of the stairs, and knock on the wall next to the door, as not to disturb it’s perfect coat of wood wax.
“Enter.” You pull on the door handle, and slowly enter the room, kneeling before Lord Carius. When you had been sent on the task to retrieve the gold, it had been by messenger, a young Bosmer girl struggling to carry a sack filled with one thousand gold pieces, whom had handed you a long note describing the job you were needed for. You carried out the contract without question, as you had done for ten years before this day. And you had never seen Carius in person.
You were shocked by his appearance. You had expected a frail old man, rich enough to hire professional mercenaries to do his dirty work. However, the Nord was young, no older than twenty-five, very muscular, dressed in pristine Ebony armor, two longswords, also Ebony, strapped to his back in an X-shape.
“It is good to finally meet you, S’Raka. I have heard much about you, and the stories were not exaggerated. Your skills in stealth and combat are immense. I hope you will forgive me for this deception, but the gold you acquired already belonged to me. Please stand.”
You get to your feet, glaring at Lord Carius with an inquisitive look. “I am not sure what you mean, my Lord?”
“The reason the instructions explicitly demanded you not kill the men who would try to stop you from retrieving the gold, is because they are my own men. One of them was a guard whom I sent out to aid you with the cart. I needed to test your abilities. I wish to recruit you for a private army. I’m only gathering the best warriors of Tamriel. I’ve already hired an Imperial guard captain, and the current Grand Champion of the Cyrodiil Arena, unusual fellow as he is. I require you to join these two warriors in an exceedingly important task. If you will allow me to explain some political affairs and my plans, I’m sure you will understand more. Please, have a seat.”
You walk to one of the large armchairs in front of his long desk, and sit down, sinking about two feet into the ridiculously soft chair. Carius unstrapped his two longswords, gently hanging them from a weapon’s rack behind his desk. “I apologize for my less-than-professional appearance, I was recently practicing against some of my wife’s summoned Demons. She is a truly amazing mage, and it’s very useful being able to fight at my full strength rather than holding back with a sparring partner.”
He sat at his desk, folding his hands and looking you in the face. “I shall start with the political situation in this province. As you likely know, the King has recently passed, and a civil war has erupted across Skyrim in search of his successor. Skyrim’s ways are behind the times, a King in control of the entire province. As a man raised in Cyrodiil, I find this manner of rule unjust and unbalanced. No one man should be leading an entire nation, we need democracy, a council of unbiased, intelligent citizens who will pass laws for the good of the people.
“With the Holds fighting over the unclaimed throne, their militaries focused on pointlessly spilling their own province’s blood, it is the perfect time for a new power to rise, to take control of the nation and rule with democracy and justice. I am the one man in Skyrim who has the money and resources to truly complete this task. As much as I despise the methods, we will have to fight against the warring Holds in order to find positions of power in this land. Nords are a powerful and strong-willed people, however their wars are destroying families, small towns denied food and protection because of the Nord’s violent ways. It has to stop.
You found yourself agreeing with everything this man was saying. Even though you had never been to Cyrodiil yourself, you saw the strife and famine the villages of Skyrim were experiencing because of the Hold’s warring, and how a council of citizens would be for the good of the province. “But Lord Carius, you are a Nord as well. Why do you think so differently from the rest?”
He smiled, leaning back in his chair, sinking even lower than you did because of his heavy armor. “As I said, I was born and raised in Cyrodiil. My birth parents were robbed and killed by bandits when I was only a baby, and I was found by an Imperial Countess, laying on the side of the road next to our destroyed carriage, half dead from thirst and hunger. She saved me and raised me as her own, and it was from her that I learned the true ways of politics.
“I came to Skyrim six years ago, and immediately knew I had to be the one to end this war, to bring peace back to the innocents. You will be on the front lines when the time comes to take the province, but for now, I have a pressing task you must complete. If you wish to join my army, you will know wealth beyond your dreams, however if you wish to continue your life as a freelance mercenary, I will pay you your usual fee of 1000 Septims for you to complete this task as any other.”
You hardly had to think before you responded to him. “I accept your offer. I will join your army, long has this war harmed innocents, and I will lay my life on the line to end it.”
“That is good. Your first task is to find an old colleague of mine. He was a mercenary, as you are, and he was the first person I went to in seek of aid. He accepted my offer, and I told him many of my plans and strategies. Close to three months ago, there was an…incident. He turned out to be… By Talos, he was a Werewolf, and was caught in the moonlight, transforming into the beast. He was restrained by ten of my men, dragged into the manor, where he returned to his human form when the sun broke the horizon.”
“He was harmless, but one of my guards, Gregor, grew paranoid, and attempted to kill him in his human form. He killed Gregor out of anger, and fled from my manor. He knows my plans, and he has a vendetta against my army. I would not put it past him to reveal my plans to the Holds, and that would destroy this army before we even began. I need you to find this man, and finish what Gregor has started. I regret this necessity, but I cannot risk him revealing me.
You stand and bow to Lord Carius. “Tell me this Werewolf’s name, and I will find and kill him.”
“It is not that simple, S’Raka. He is a master warrior, and a fast and clever man. He will not be found on any day. You will be accompanied by my best warriors, the Imperial guard and Cyrodiil’s Grand Champion. I know his general location, and when the moon becomes full in three days, he will unknowingly reveal himself in his animal form to hunt for food. This is the only way you will locate him, and when you must strike. My scouts tell me he’s been hiding in the forest north of the city of Whiterun. One of them foolishly attempted to assassinate him in the night, and was beheaded by one of his traps. I trust you will not make the same mistake.”
“Indeed I will not, my Lord. As soon as the other warriors are ready to leave, I will be too. Once again however, I must ask this Werewolf’s name. I have a…suspicion.”
Carius grinned. “I thought you might. As you assume, the Werewolf’s name is Jolmir.”
You turn and walk towards the door, turning to face Lord Carius. “We have history, but it seems you already know that. I am looking forward to this,” and you bow to him once more.
Lord Carius stands up and bows back to you. “If there are any supplies you need, I will give them to you,” he said.
“I could use some new arrows…silver ones.”
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Two days later, you and the other two warriors were camped out in the forest north of Whiterun. The Imperial guard captain, named Indus Phillida, appeared to be powerful, wielding a heavy Silver Battleaxe as though it were a twig. He had had an accident during a battle in defense of his city, and he could no longer speak well. You could sort of understand his mumblings, but he preferred to be silent. According to his story, he was lucky he was not beheaded. The Grand Champion was a different story. A Bosmer, of all things, with bright blonde hair and green eyes, ridiculously muscular, a look of wisdom and power in his eyes. He was very talkative, and his outlandish stories kept you entertained as you waited for the full moon to rise.
“As a child, the past Grand Champion of the Imperial Arena was my companion, and he trained me to fight as he did. Years of training with him made me strong, but one day he traveled into a Daedric gate in the Niben Bay and was never seen again. I joined the Arena soon afterwards, and with his training I was able to quickly ascend to Grand Champion. My companion’s replacement was strong, a woman named Branwen. Before we fought, she said she wanted an honorable fight, without weapons. I agreed, and I’ll admit that I’ve never seen such a skilled martial artist before, but in the end I knocked her unconscious, and even though she had not died, it was considered my victory at the request of the Battlemaster. Nobody has been able to best me in a hundred and ninety years afterwards.”
“What is your name, Bosmer?” You ask him, as you finish hammering the last tent pole into the ground.
“My true name is not very interesting, people just call me Torch. Don’t bother asking why.”
You spend the day hunting and gathering supplies, waiting for night to fall. You return to camp with two hours before sundown, dropping off a stack of firewood and a sack full of Elk meat.
“You should get some rest before nightfall. We will need all our strength to destroy this Werewolf. Carius said his name was Jolmir, if we fail to find him during the night we shall have to search local towns for him,” the Bosmer said, and he crawled into his tent.
You decide this is a smart idea, and lay back on the grass looking up into the
darkening sky.
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“Jolmir, leave some for me, would you?” You kick one of the Vampires off the bridge, and turn, shooting another down with your bow. Jolmir was behind you, wildly flailing his silver claymore at the Vampires.
“I can’t help it if you’re too slow, S’Raka. Either way, the bounty will be split between us, not by the kill,” said Jolmir, as he beheaded two Vampires with one slash of his blade. You draw your bow, firing another of your wood-tipped arrows into the chest of the last Vampire, and watch as he ignites, tumbling off the bridge and into the pit below.
“Their leader is still in the cavern. Follow me,” he said, and began to run towards the wooden door in the face of the mountain. He kicks it open, charging into the cavern, and you see a splash of blood as he’s tackled by a massive wolf. You run forward to get the animal off of him, but freeze as you see the wolf’s humanoid arms and legs, it’s elongated face…a Werewolf. It’s teeth are sunk into Jolmir’s torso, and you charge forward, thrusting an arrow into the beast’s back by hand.
It releases Jolmir, bashing you across the cavern into the wall. Miraculously, Jolmir is on his feet, raising his silver claymore. The Werewolf charges at him, and he thrusts forward, sinking the blade into the creature’s heart. The wolf roars, and tries to rip out the blade, but the magic of the silver weakens it, and it collapses to the stone floor, dead.
You get to your feet and run to Jolmir. “Are you alright, friend? I have healing potions, take it,” you say, handing the small vial to Jolmir, who silently downs the contents. The wound, which before had been bleeding heavily, began to slowly mend.
“Thank you, S’Raka, but while this may prevent my death today, I am already inflicted with the Werewolf’s curse. We must destroy the Vampire’s leader, we’ll worry about my wound afterwards.”
You support Jolmir and continue through the cavern. There was no other sign of life, and you walk through the winding tunnels until you reach a large stone door. You lean Jolmir on the tunnel wall, and search your pack, picking up a small blue vial. You drink the contents, and see a blue glow surround Jolmir, and another two blue glows about fifty feet away, on the other side of the stone door.
“The Vampire is in the next room. You can’t fight like this, I will kill him.”
Jolmir groaned and tried to stand. “No, I can still fight,” he said, before collapsing back to the ground. “Very well, this one is yours.”
You push on the door, but it won’t budge. You grab Jolmir’s claymore and shove it in the door crack, pulling with all your weight. The door slowly grinds open, and you return the claymore and slide into the large chamber.
There were wooden supports holding up the stone ceiling, and you could see the Vampire in the rear of the cavern, engaged in combat with another Werewolf. The Vampire was blasting a stream of fire at the beast with his right hand, a stream of lightning from his left. The Werewolf was flailing madly, it’s fur a burning pyre. It falls to the ground dead, smoke rising from it’s corpse.
The Vampire stands over the beast’s body, and you draw your last wood-tipped arrow, aiming directly at the oblivious Vampire’s chest. You release the arrow, hear the soft woosh as it soars through the air, striking the Vampire directly in the heart. He bursts into flames, igniting the wooden supports around the cavern. The flames spread at alarming speeds, rushing towards your position.
You sprint towards the stone door, looking over your shoulder at the fire, and crash into the door- It was closed.
“JOLMIR, ARE YOU THERE? OPEN THE DOOR!”
“Sorry, S’Raka. This is a very valuable contract, and once they find out you died in combat, the entire reward will be paid to me. I’ll use the gold to seek a cure to the curse of the Werewolf.”
The flames surrounded you, burning your fur and skin, you fall…
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“S’RAKA, WAKE THE HELL UP!” You feel a heavy boot kick you in the side, and you gasp, being shaken from your dream. You look to the sky, the moon low on the horizon. Torch was standing over you, wearing light Mithril armor and carrying two Silver longswords. “It is nightfall, the hunt begins.”
You stand and strap on your bow and quiver, you and Torch ready to go as you wait for Indus to put on his heavy armor. “I’ve never known how people fight with all of that. Why would you want to deflect blows when you can just avoid them in the first place?”
Torch chuckled. “I agree. In all my time in the Arena I’ve never taken a hit, due to my opponents trying to fight in heavy raiments.”
Indus finished getting his armor on, lifted his axe and walked to you and Torch. You reach into your pack and pull out handfulls of small vials, some filled with blue liquid and others with green liquid. “I have potions for all of us. High quality Night Eye and Life Detection. Take a couple of each and down them, and we’ll search the forest for any signs of Jolmir.”
The two warriors drink the potions, and you see their eyes gain a cat-like shape and glow. You drink the Life Detection potion, but have no need for the Night Eye, as you were a Khajiit. The three of you head into the forest, peering through the thick trees.
You scan the area searching for any signs of life glowing in the distance. There were animals, small wolves and deer, fleeing as you got close. You walk for hours, no sign of anything larger than an Elk. Five hours until daybreak, hopefully there would be at least a clue to his location by then.
Another fruitless two hours of walking, and Indus throws out his hand, stopping you and Torch. He points to a clearing to his left, and you see a mangled body laying in the brush. You carefully approach the corpse, and see it’s an Orc woman, ripped limb from limb. There was a bite mark near her neck, and others on her scattered limbs. They were much too large to be a normal wolf, too large for even a bear, and from what you knew of Orcs, they would not be bested by any natural animal. Your thoughts wandered to a small Dragon, but if that were the case there would be nothing left of her.
“The body is relatively fresh. I’m almost sure this is the work of a Werewolf, he must be close. Keep watch in all directions, we can’t be taken by surprise. As you know, if one of us gets bitten, we each have orders to kill the bitten one in order to avoid the same situation Jolmir is responsible for. Do NOT let it happen,” you say sharply. “Give me a minute to see if I can find a trail.”
Indus spoke in his soft, grunting voice. “Don’t those Life Detection potions detect blood? Shouldn’t we be able to see a trail?”
“No, that’s popular belief, but they actually detect the faint traces of Magicka that are within every mobile creature. Even zombies and skeletons can be seen with it, because they’re controlled with Magicka. I think I have a trail, branches are snapped and roots are disturbed, heading east. Follow me.”
The three of you jog through the thick trees, weaving through branches as you try to keep track of the trail. Eventually you come upon a large cave entrance, and you see the light blue glow deep inside of the darkness. The mass was large, easily large enough to be a Werewolf. It could have been a bear, but it was too tall, it seemed to be standing on rear legs.
Indus starts walking towards the cave entrance, unstrapping his battleaxe, but you hold him back. “We have him trapped in the cave. We wait here. If he comes out in his wolf form, we fight him as planned, but if we’re lucky enough that he doesn’t attack us before morning, we’ll simply enter the cave and kill him in his human form. We must be wary of any traps, although I doubt there are any, he would have activated them entering the cave in his Werewolf form.”
“Very well,” Indus grunts, and he sits, leaning against a tree. You stay standing, bow in hand, arrow nocked, waiting for any sign of movement from inside the cave. Two more hours pass, and you can see very faint light on the horizon. The glowing shape inside the cave seemed to be laying down, likely asleep after a night of hunting. Once the full moon sunk under the treeline, the three of you would storm the cave and behead Jolmir. You had strict orders to kill him, he was far too dangerous to simply take as a prisoner.
You hear a rustling in the forest behind you, and as you turn to search the treeline, a massive bear charges from the darkness, tackling Indus. The bear slashed at the pouch of dried meat on his belt, it’s long claws cutting through the thin armor on his waist, into his side. Torch draws his longswords and sprints for the bear, slashing at it’s side. The bear swipes at Torch, and he rolls out of the way, thrusting his swords into the bear’s arms. You draw your bow, trying to get a shot past Torch and Indus. You focus, and the world around you seems to slow. You see an opening and release the bowstring, the arrow soaring through the air, missing Torch’s arm by two inches. The arrow found it’s mark, sinking through the bear’s eye, into it’s brain, killing it instantly.
You help Indus to his feet, digging in your pack for a healing potion for his wound. Indus’s eyes open wide in fear, staring over your shoulder, and you spin around. The Werewolf stood behind you, ten feet tall with pitch black fur, dried blood coating it’s chin and chest. In it’s right hand, it held Torch’s head, his body laying in a heap under the Werewolf’s feet.
It drops Torch’s head, and charges for you and Indus, slashing through the air with it’s four inch long claws. Indus throws you out of the way, slashing at the Werewolf with his battleaxe. He cut through the beast’s arm, and the holy magic of his silver weapon burned through the Werewolf’s skin. The beast roared in anger, and charged forward, bashing Indus fifteen feet through the air, and he crashed head first into a large tree, crumpling at the bottom, his neck broken.
The Werewolf sprints at you, smashing it’s heavy fist into your chest, and the world goes black as you lose consciousness.
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You open your eyes, and try to sit up, but your arms and legs were bound by thick rope. You roll over, and see you’re in dark cave, firelight flickering from the center of the room. A battered and scratched up man with long, filthy hair was sitting next to the fire. The moon must have fallen seconds before he killed you.
You struggle to break the ropes holding your limbs, and the man hears you, standing and walking over to you, holding a rusty iron claymore. Even with the unkempt beard and hair, you could easily tell it was Jolmir. He grabbed you by your hair, slamming you against the cave wall.
“S’Raka, as happy as I am to see you, I must ask how it is that you are alive.” He spoke in a coarse voice, as though he hasn’t spoken for months.
“Jolmir, you forget that I am a master Alchemist. I always carry potions of Fire Shield when facing Vampires.” You pull your head away from Jolmir’s grasp.
Jolmir kicked you in the side, and you feel a rib crack, and he shoves you back against the cave wall. “I see. I doubt you have any potions that can prevent your throat being cut,” and he places the blade of his claymore against your neck, and you feel the blade sinking into your flesh. You shut your eyes, waiting for death.
Suddenly, you feel a blast of heat, see a flash of light through your eyelids, and feel Jolmir tumble off of you, and you open your eyes. You see a woman wearing a green robe, her hands surrounded by fire, and next to her, Lord Carius himself. He draws his two longswords, and charges towards Jolmir, who swings his claymore at Carius. It glances off his Ebony armor, and Carius kicks out, landing his heavy boot on Jolmir’s chest, and he falls backwards.
The woman runs to you, drawing a small steel dagger, and cuts you free of the ropes. “I am Joanna, the wife of Lord Carius.” You stand, and sprint across the cavern, grabbing your bow and quiver that was laying on the floor next to the fire. You nock an arrow, draw the bow and aim for Jolmir, and release the arrow. Jolmir sees you, and dives away, the arrow striking the stone wall.
Carius was charging him head on, his armor easily taking the blows from Jolmir’s sword. You were firing arrow after arrow at him, and Joanna was firing spells at Jolmir from across the cave, but he was fast enough to avoid all of them. He was indeed an amazing warrior.
You glance around the small cave, searching for something to use to your advantage, something to slow him down or disable him so someone could land an attack.
Jolmir swings his claymore upwards, hitting Carius on the leather part of his armor, under his armpit. Blood seeps from his armor, and he stumbles backwards.
“CARIUS, NO!“ Joanna shrieks, and Jolmir sprints for Joanna, and she wildly hurls spells at him, none of which hit their mark in her panic.
You see a small jar of oil next to Jolmir’s bedroll, likely used to help start his fires. You run to the oil jar pick it up, hurling it at Jolmir, and it smashes on the ground in front of him, and he slips and falls, scrambling to stand on the slippery oil.
“JOANNA, FIRE SPELL!” you shout, and she launches a large fireball, but in her panic she fires it too far left, and Jolmir is on his feet, running towards her, his claymore raised over his head ready to strike her down.
In an instant, you clear your mind, focus only on Jolmir, and once again the world seems to slow. You draw your bow, firing your last arrow, your timing flawless. The arrow passes through Joanna’s fire spell mid-flight, igniting the wooden shaft, and the arrow catches in Jolmir’s shirt, the oil remaining on his clothes igniting. Jolmir goes up in a pyre, screaming in agony and thrashing his arms. Carius is on his feet, and he charges towards Jolmir, swinging his longswords with all his strength, cleaving Jolmir in two.
The battle was over. You exhale in relief, and grab your pack from beside Jolmir’s bedroll, searching for a healing potion for Carius. You find the small red vial, and hand it to Carius, who drinks it, and you see the blood immediately stop flowing from his arm. “Thank you, S’Raka. I’m glad to see at least you survived.”
“All thanks to you and your wife, Lord Carius. I’ll admit I was beaten. How did you find me though?” You ask, gathering your arrows from around the cave.
“Joanna was watching over you with her magic, and when you were captured, she teleported herself and I here to help you. I’m very sad that the other warriors fell, but against Jolmir’s Werewolf form, even the three of you were no match. You’re lucky the moon fell when it did. Come, we must return to Windhelm. Joanna can transport us.” You walk to Carius, and Joanna places a hand on both of your shoulders, and you feel a strong pull and a flash of purple light, and you are standing in Carius’ study.
“I’ll leave you two to your discussion,” Joanna said. “I have matters with the College of Winterhold to attend to,” and she left the study. Lord Carius placed his swords on the desk, pulling a cloth and a small jar of mineral oil from his desk drawer, sitting in the soft chair and proceeded to clean the blood off his blades.
“I lost two of my best warriors, but the only thing in my way has been taken care of. I will send soldiers to recover their bodies, and we will give them proper burials. S’Raka, you will be one of my captains, and with the army I’ve raised, we will finally bring democracy and justice to this barbarian land. I thank you for risking your life for this cause, you are a very noble person. We will fight the corrupt kings from the shadows of the storms and blizzards of Skyrim. From this moment onward, we are the Stormcloak Rebellion.”
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Hope you enjoyed the story, and guys, if I make another "Give me Ideas" thread, please respond to it correctly and don't troll my topic with your stupid stuff. Thank you, CheeseSauce13 for being intelligent.
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You ride towards the large iron-barred gate leading into the great city of Windhelm, dragging your heavy gold-filled cart along behind you. As you reach the gate, a guard runs over to meet you.
“What is your business here, Khajiit?” He shouted, his hand on the hilt of his longsword.
You dismount your horse and throw off the sheet covering your cart, revealing piles of gold coins and shining gems. “I am S’Raka, a mercenary working for Lord Carius of Windhelm. He sent me to collect a large sum of money from an ‘old friend’ and I am here to deliver it. As you can see I have no weapons, please allow me to enter the city.”
The guard begins turning the large crank and the portcullis slowly rises. “Sorry for the rude greeting, sir, but after that business with the Necromancers in Rifton, we can’t be too careful.”
“Aye. How a Necromancer managed to infiltrate the Mages there, I’ll never understand. Please stable my horse and get her a bag of feed,” you said, handing twenty Septims to the guard, continuing through the gate and pulling the cart by foot. You could see Lord Carius’ estate towering over the city in the distance. You drag the heavy cart of gold through the city.
Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself at the gate of Carius Manor, and ring the massive bell hanging from the guard tower outside his gate. The large iron gate slowly swings open, most likely powered by magic, as there was not a man in sight. You walk through the gate towards the large mansion, and see three guards run out to help you drag the heavy cart.
“Thank you, men. That is no easy task without my horse. May I enter to speak with the Lord?”
The guards begin shoving the cart towards the mansion, grunting in effort. The three of them could not move it any faster than you could alone. You smiled at this small detail. “Of course, he eagerly awaits your arrival,” one of the human guards grunted as he pushed the cart. “We will deliver this cart to be emptied into his vault, the Lord should be in his study up the stairs in the entrance hall.”
You move quickly past the struggling guards, and into the mansion. You ascend the towering staircase, covered in an ornately stitched decorative carpet, likely crafted by the Dunmer of Morrowind. You see a large door at the top of the stairs, and knock on the wall next to the door, as not to disturb it’s perfect coat of wood wax.
“Enter.” You pull on the door handle, and slowly enter the room, kneeling before Lord Carius. When you had been sent on the task to retrieve the gold, it had been by messenger, a young Bosmer girl struggling to carry a sack filled with one thousand gold pieces, whom had handed you a long note describing the job you were needed for. You carried out the contract without question, as you had done for ten years before this day. And you had never seen Carius in person.
You were shocked by his appearance. You had expected a frail old man, rich enough to hire professional mercenaries to do his dirty work. However, the Nord was young, no older than twenty-five, very muscular, dressed in pristine Ebony armor, two longswords, also Ebony, strapped to his back in an X-shape.
“It is good to finally meet you, S’Raka. I have heard much about you, and the stories were not exaggerated. Your skills in stealth and combat are immense. I hope you will forgive me for this deception, but the gold you acquired already belonged to me. Please stand.”
You get to your feet, glaring at Lord Carius with an inquisitive look. “I am not sure what you mean, my Lord?”
“The reason the instructions explicitly demanded you not kill the men who would try to stop you from retrieving the gold, is because they are my own men. One of them was a guard whom I sent out to aid you with the cart. I needed to test your abilities. I wish to recruit you for a private army. I’m only gathering the best warriors of Tamriel. I’ve already hired an Imperial guard captain, and the current Grand Champion of the Cyrodiil Arena, unusual fellow as he is. I require you to join these two warriors in an exceedingly important task. If you will allow me to explain some political affairs and my plans, I’m sure you will understand more. Please, have a seat.”
You walk to one of the large armchairs in front of his long desk, and sit down, sinking about two feet into the ridiculously soft chair. Carius unstrapped his two longswords, gently hanging them from a weapon’s rack behind his desk. “I apologize for my less-than-professional appearance, I was recently practicing against some of my wife’s summoned Demons. She is a truly amazing mage, and it’s very useful being able to fight at my full strength rather than holding back with a sparring partner.”
He sat at his desk, folding his hands and looking you in the face. “I shall start with the political situation in this province. As you likely know, the King has recently passed, and a civil war has erupted across Skyrim in search of his successor. Skyrim’s ways are behind the times, a King in control of the entire province. As a man raised in Cyrodiil, I find this manner of rule unjust and unbalanced. No one man should be leading an entire nation, we need democracy, a council of unbiased, intelligent citizens who will pass laws for the good of the people.
“With the Holds fighting over the unclaimed throne, their militaries focused on pointlessly spilling their own province’s blood, it is the perfect time for a new power to rise, to take control of the nation and rule with democracy and justice. I am the one man in Skyrim who has the money and resources to truly complete this task. As much as I despise the methods, we will have to fight against the warring Holds in order to find positions of power in this land. Nords are a powerful and strong-willed people, however their wars are destroying families, small towns denied food and protection because of the Nord’s violent ways. It has to stop.
You found yourself agreeing with everything this man was saying. Even though you had never been to Cyrodiil yourself, you saw the strife and famine the villages of Skyrim were experiencing because of the Hold’s warring, and how a council of citizens would be for the good of the province. “But Lord Carius, you are a Nord as well. Why do you think so differently from the rest?”
He smiled, leaning back in his chair, sinking even lower than you did because of his heavy armor. “As I said, I was born and raised in Cyrodiil. My birth parents were robbed and killed by bandits when I was only a baby, and I was found by an Imperial Countess, laying on the side of the road next to our destroyed carriage, half dead from thirst and hunger. She saved me and raised me as her own, and it was from her that I learned the true ways of politics.
“I came to Skyrim six years ago, and immediately knew I had to be the one to end this war, to bring peace back to the innocents. You will be on the front lines when the time comes to take the province, but for now, I have a pressing task you must complete. If you wish to join my army, you will know wealth beyond your dreams, however if you wish to continue your life as a freelance mercenary, I will pay you your usual fee of 1000 Septims for you to complete this task as any other.”
You hardly had to think before you responded to him. “I accept your offer. I will join your army, long has this war harmed innocents, and I will lay my life on the line to end it.”
“That is good. Your first task is to find an old colleague of mine. He was a mercenary, as you are, and he was the first person I went to in seek of aid. He accepted my offer, and I told him many of my plans and strategies. Close to three months ago, there was an…incident. He turned out to be… By Talos, he was a Werewolf, and was caught in the moonlight, transforming into the beast. He was restrained by ten of my men, dragged into the manor, where he returned to his human form when the sun broke the horizon.”
“He was harmless, but one of my guards, Gregor, grew paranoid, and attempted to kill him in his human form. He killed Gregor out of anger, and fled from my manor. He knows my plans, and he has a vendetta against my army. I would not put it past him to reveal my plans to the Holds, and that would destroy this army before we even began. I need you to find this man, and finish what Gregor has started. I regret this necessity, but I cannot risk him revealing me.
You stand and bow to Lord Carius. “Tell me this Werewolf’s name, and I will find and kill him.”
“It is not that simple, S’Raka. He is a master warrior, and a fast and clever man. He will not be found on any day. You will be accompanied by my best warriors, the Imperial guard and Cyrodiil’s Grand Champion. I know his general location, and when the moon becomes full in three days, he will unknowingly reveal himself in his animal form to hunt for food. This is the only way you will locate him, and when you must strike. My scouts tell me he’s been hiding in the forest north of the city of Whiterun. One of them foolishly attempted to assassinate him in the night, and was beheaded by one of his traps. I trust you will not make the same mistake.”
“Indeed I will not, my Lord. As soon as the other warriors are ready to leave, I will be too. Once again however, I must ask this Werewolf’s name. I have a…suspicion.”
Carius grinned. “I thought you might. As you assume, the Werewolf’s name is Jolmir.”
You turn and walk towards the door, turning to face Lord Carius. “We have history, but it seems you already know that. I am looking forward to this,” and you bow to him once more.
Lord Carius stands up and bows back to you. “If there are any supplies you need, I will give them to you,” he said.
“I could use some new arrows…silver ones.”
************
Two days later, you and the other two warriors were camped out in the forest north of Whiterun. The Imperial guard captain, named Indus Phillida, appeared to be powerful, wielding a heavy Silver Battleaxe as though it were a twig. He had had an accident during a battle in defense of his city, and he could no longer speak well. You could sort of understand his mumblings, but he preferred to be silent. According to his story, he was lucky he was not beheaded. The Grand Champion was a different story. A Bosmer, of all things, with bright blonde hair and green eyes, ridiculously muscular, a look of wisdom and power in his eyes. He was very talkative, and his outlandish stories kept you entertained as you waited for the full moon to rise.
“As a child, the past Grand Champion of the Imperial Arena was my companion, and he trained me to fight as he did. Years of training with him made me strong, but one day he traveled into a Daedric gate in the Niben Bay and was never seen again. I joined the Arena soon afterwards, and with his training I was able to quickly ascend to Grand Champion. My companion’s replacement was strong, a woman named Branwen. Before we fought, she said she wanted an honorable fight, without weapons. I agreed, and I’ll admit that I’ve never seen such a skilled martial artist before, but in the end I knocked her unconscious, and even though she had not died, it was considered my victory at the request of the Battlemaster. Nobody has been able to best me in a hundred and ninety years afterwards.”
“What is your name, Bosmer?” You ask him, as you finish hammering the last tent pole into the ground.
“My true name is not very interesting, people just call me Torch. Don’t bother asking why.”
You spend the day hunting and gathering supplies, waiting for night to fall. You return to camp with two hours before sundown, dropping off a stack of firewood and a sack full of Elk meat.
“You should get some rest before nightfall. We will need all our strength to destroy this Werewolf. Carius said his name was Jolmir, if we fail to find him during the night we shall have to search local towns for him,” the Bosmer said, and he crawled into his tent.
You decide this is a smart idea, and lay back on the grass looking up into the
darkening sky.
***************
“Jolmir, leave some for me, would you?” You kick one of the Vampires off the bridge, and turn, shooting another down with your bow. Jolmir was behind you, wildly flailing his silver claymore at the Vampires.
“I can’t help it if you’re too slow, S’Raka. Either way, the bounty will be split between us, not by the kill,” said Jolmir, as he beheaded two Vampires with one slash of his blade. You draw your bow, firing another of your wood-tipped arrows into the chest of the last Vampire, and watch as he ignites, tumbling off the bridge and into the pit below.
“Their leader is still in the cavern. Follow me,” he said, and began to run towards the wooden door in the face of the mountain. He kicks it open, charging into the cavern, and you see a splash of blood as he’s tackled by a massive wolf. You run forward to get the animal off of him, but freeze as you see the wolf’s humanoid arms and legs, it’s elongated face…a Werewolf. It’s teeth are sunk into Jolmir’s torso, and you charge forward, thrusting an arrow into the beast’s back by hand.
It releases Jolmir, bashing you across the cavern into the wall. Miraculously, Jolmir is on his feet, raising his silver claymore. The Werewolf charges at him, and he thrusts forward, sinking the blade into the creature’s heart. The wolf roars, and tries to rip out the blade, but the magic of the silver weakens it, and it collapses to the stone floor, dead.
You get to your feet and run to Jolmir. “Are you alright, friend? I have healing potions, take it,” you say, handing the small vial to Jolmir, who silently downs the contents. The wound, which before had been bleeding heavily, began to slowly mend.
“Thank you, S’Raka, but while this may prevent my death today, I am already inflicted with the Werewolf’s curse. We must destroy the Vampire’s leader, we’ll worry about my wound afterwards.”
You support Jolmir and continue through the cavern. There was no other sign of life, and you walk through the winding tunnels until you reach a large stone door. You lean Jolmir on the tunnel wall, and search your pack, picking up a small blue vial. You drink the contents, and see a blue glow surround Jolmir, and another two blue glows about fifty feet away, on the other side of the stone door.
“The Vampire is in the next room. You can’t fight like this, I will kill him.”
Jolmir groaned and tried to stand. “No, I can still fight,” he said, before collapsing back to the ground. “Very well, this one is yours.”
You push on the door, but it won’t budge. You grab Jolmir’s claymore and shove it in the door crack, pulling with all your weight. The door slowly grinds open, and you return the claymore and slide into the large chamber.
There were wooden supports holding up the stone ceiling, and you could see the Vampire in the rear of the cavern, engaged in combat with another Werewolf. The Vampire was blasting a stream of fire at the beast with his right hand, a stream of lightning from his left. The Werewolf was flailing madly, it’s fur a burning pyre. It falls to the ground dead, smoke rising from it’s corpse.
The Vampire stands over the beast’s body, and you draw your last wood-tipped arrow, aiming directly at the oblivious Vampire’s chest. You release the arrow, hear the soft woosh as it soars through the air, striking the Vampire directly in the heart. He bursts into flames, igniting the wooden supports around the cavern. The flames spread at alarming speeds, rushing towards your position.
You sprint towards the stone door, looking over your shoulder at the fire, and crash into the door- It was closed.
“JOLMIR, ARE YOU THERE? OPEN THE DOOR!”
“Sorry, S’Raka. This is a very valuable contract, and once they find out you died in combat, the entire reward will be paid to me. I’ll use the gold to seek a cure to the curse of the Werewolf.”
The flames surrounded you, burning your fur and skin, you fall…
*************
“S’RAKA, WAKE THE HELL UP!” You feel a heavy boot kick you in the side, and you gasp, being shaken from your dream. You look to the sky, the moon low on the horizon. Torch was standing over you, wearing light Mithril armor and carrying two Silver longswords. “It is nightfall, the hunt begins.”
You stand and strap on your bow and quiver, you and Torch ready to go as you wait for Indus to put on his heavy armor. “I’ve never known how people fight with all of that. Why would you want to deflect blows when you can just avoid them in the first place?”
Torch chuckled. “I agree. In all my time in the Arena I’ve never taken a hit, due to my opponents trying to fight in heavy raiments.”
Indus finished getting his armor on, lifted his axe and walked to you and Torch. You reach into your pack and pull out handfulls of small vials, some filled with blue liquid and others with green liquid. “I have potions for all of us. High quality Night Eye and Life Detection. Take a couple of each and down them, and we’ll search the forest for any signs of Jolmir.”
The two warriors drink the potions, and you see their eyes gain a cat-like shape and glow. You drink the Life Detection potion, but have no need for the Night Eye, as you were a Khajiit. The three of you head into the forest, peering through the thick trees.
You scan the area searching for any signs of life glowing in the distance. There were animals, small wolves and deer, fleeing as you got close. You walk for hours, no sign of anything larger than an Elk. Five hours until daybreak, hopefully there would be at least a clue to his location by then.
Another fruitless two hours of walking, and Indus throws out his hand, stopping you and Torch. He points to a clearing to his left, and you see a mangled body laying in the brush. You carefully approach the corpse, and see it’s an Orc woman, ripped limb from limb. There was a bite mark near her neck, and others on her scattered limbs. They were much too large to be a normal wolf, too large for even a bear, and from what you knew of Orcs, they would not be bested by any natural animal. Your thoughts wandered to a small Dragon, but if that were the case there would be nothing left of her.
“The body is relatively fresh. I’m almost sure this is the work of a Werewolf, he must be close. Keep watch in all directions, we can’t be taken by surprise. As you know, if one of us gets bitten, we each have orders to kill the bitten one in order to avoid the same situation Jolmir is responsible for. Do NOT let it happen,” you say sharply. “Give me a minute to see if I can find a trail.”
Indus spoke in his soft, grunting voice. “Don’t those Life Detection potions detect blood? Shouldn’t we be able to see a trail?”
“No, that’s popular belief, but they actually detect the faint traces of Magicka that are within every mobile creature. Even zombies and skeletons can be seen with it, because they’re controlled with Magicka. I think I have a trail, branches are snapped and roots are disturbed, heading east. Follow me.”
The three of you jog through the thick trees, weaving through branches as you try to keep track of the trail. Eventually you come upon a large cave entrance, and you see the light blue glow deep inside of the darkness. The mass was large, easily large enough to be a Werewolf. It could have been a bear, but it was too tall, it seemed to be standing on rear legs.
Indus starts walking towards the cave entrance, unstrapping his battleaxe, but you hold him back. “We have him trapped in the cave. We wait here. If he comes out in his wolf form, we fight him as planned, but if we’re lucky enough that he doesn’t attack us before morning, we’ll simply enter the cave and kill him in his human form. We must be wary of any traps, although I doubt there are any, he would have activated them entering the cave in his Werewolf form.”
“Very well,” Indus grunts, and he sits, leaning against a tree. You stay standing, bow in hand, arrow nocked, waiting for any sign of movement from inside the cave. Two more hours pass, and you can see very faint light on the horizon. The glowing shape inside the cave seemed to be laying down, likely asleep after a night of hunting. Once the full moon sunk under the treeline, the three of you would storm the cave and behead Jolmir. You had strict orders to kill him, he was far too dangerous to simply take as a prisoner.
You hear a rustling in the forest behind you, and as you turn to search the treeline, a massive bear charges from the darkness, tackling Indus. The bear slashed at the pouch of dried meat on his belt, it’s long claws cutting through the thin armor on his waist, into his side. Torch draws his longswords and sprints for the bear, slashing at it’s side. The bear swipes at Torch, and he rolls out of the way, thrusting his swords into the bear’s arms. You draw your bow, trying to get a shot past Torch and Indus. You focus, and the world around you seems to slow. You see an opening and release the bowstring, the arrow soaring through the air, missing Torch’s arm by two inches. The arrow found it’s mark, sinking through the bear’s eye, into it’s brain, killing it instantly.
You help Indus to his feet, digging in your pack for a healing potion for his wound. Indus’s eyes open wide in fear, staring over your shoulder, and you spin around. The Werewolf stood behind you, ten feet tall with pitch black fur, dried blood coating it’s chin and chest. In it’s right hand, it held Torch’s head, his body laying in a heap under the Werewolf’s feet.
It drops Torch’s head, and charges for you and Indus, slashing through the air with it’s four inch long claws. Indus throws you out of the way, slashing at the Werewolf with his battleaxe. He cut through the beast’s arm, and the holy magic of his silver weapon burned through the Werewolf’s skin. The beast roared in anger, and charged forward, bashing Indus fifteen feet through the air, and he crashed head first into a large tree, crumpling at the bottom, his neck broken.
The Werewolf sprints at you, smashing it’s heavy fist into your chest, and the world goes black as you lose consciousness.
***************
You open your eyes, and try to sit up, but your arms and legs were bound by thick rope. You roll over, and see you’re in dark cave, firelight flickering from the center of the room. A battered and scratched up man with long, filthy hair was sitting next to the fire. The moon must have fallen seconds before he killed you.
You struggle to break the ropes holding your limbs, and the man hears you, standing and walking over to you, holding a rusty iron claymore. Even with the unkempt beard and hair, you could easily tell it was Jolmir. He grabbed you by your hair, slamming you against the cave wall.
“S’Raka, as happy as I am to see you, I must ask how it is that you are alive.” He spoke in a coarse voice, as though he hasn’t spoken for months.
“Jolmir, you forget that I am a master Alchemist. I always carry potions of Fire Shield when facing Vampires.” You pull your head away from Jolmir’s grasp.
Jolmir kicked you in the side, and you feel a rib crack, and he shoves you back against the cave wall. “I see. I doubt you have any potions that can prevent your throat being cut,” and he places the blade of his claymore against your neck, and you feel the blade sinking into your flesh. You shut your eyes, waiting for death.
Suddenly, you feel a blast of heat, see a flash of light through your eyelids, and feel Jolmir tumble off of you, and you open your eyes. You see a woman wearing a green robe, her hands surrounded by fire, and next to her, Lord Carius himself. He draws his two longswords, and charges towards Jolmir, who swings his claymore at Carius. It glances off his Ebony armor, and Carius kicks out, landing his heavy boot on Jolmir’s chest, and he falls backwards.
The woman runs to you, drawing a small steel dagger, and cuts you free of the ropes. “I am Joanna, the wife of Lord Carius.” You stand, and sprint across the cavern, grabbing your bow and quiver that was laying on the floor next to the fire. You nock an arrow, draw the bow and aim for Jolmir, and release the arrow. Jolmir sees you, and dives away, the arrow striking the stone wall.
Carius was charging him head on, his armor easily taking the blows from Jolmir’s sword. You were firing arrow after arrow at him, and Joanna was firing spells at Jolmir from across the cave, but he was fast enough to avoid all of them. He was indeed an amazing warrior.
You glance around the small cave, searching for something to use to your advantage, something to slow him down or disable him so someone could land an attack.
Jolmir swings his claymore upwards, hitting Carius on the leather part of his armor, under his armpit. Blood seeps from his armor, and he stumbles backwards.
“CARIUS, NO!“ Joanna shrieks, and Jolmir sprints for Joanna, and she wildly hurls spells at him, none of which hit their mark in her panic.
You see a small jar of oil next to Jolmir’s bedroll, likely used to help start his fires. You run to the oil jar pick it up, hurling it at Jolmir, and it smashes on the ground in front of him, and he slips and falls, scrambling to stand on the slippery oil.
“JOANNA, FIRE SPELL!” you shout, and she launches a large fireball, but in her panic she fires it too far left, and Jolmir is on his feet, running towards her, his claymore raised over his head ready to strike her down.
In an instant, you clear your mind, focus only on Jolmir, and once again the world seems to slow. You draw your bow, firing your last arrow, your timing flawless. The arrow passes through Joanna’s fire spell mid-flight, igniting the wooden shaft, and the arrow catches in Jolmir’s shirt, the oil remaining on his clothes igniting. Jolmir goes up in a pyre, screaming in agony and thrashing his arms. Carius is on his feet, and he charges towards Jolmir, swinging his longswords with all his strength, cleaving Jolmir in two.
The battle was over. You exhale in relief, and grab your pack from beside Jolmir’s bedroll, searching for a healing potion for Carius. You find the small red vial, and hand it to Carius, who drinks it, and you see the blood immediately stop flowing from his arm. “Thank you, S’Raka. I’m glad to see at least you survived.”
“All thanks to you and your wife, Lord Carius. I’ll admit I was beaten. How did you find me though?” You ask, gathering your arrows from around the cave.
“Joanna was watching over you with her magic, and when you were captured, she teleported herself and I here to help you. I’m very sad that the other warriors fell, but against Jolmir’s Werewolf form, even the three of you were no match. You’re lucky the moon fell when it did. Come, we must return to Windhelm. Joanna can transport us.” You walk to Carius, and Joanna places a hand on both of your shoulders, and you feel a strong pull and a flash of purple light, and you are standing in Carius’ study.
“I’ll leave you two to your discussion,” Joanna said. “I have matters with the College of Winterhold to attend to,” and she left the study. Lord Carius placed his swords on the desk, pulling a cloth and a small jar of mineral oil from his desk drawer, sitting in the soft chair and proceeded to clean the blood off his blades.
“I lost two of my best warriors, but the only thing in my way has been taken care of. I will send soldiers to recover their bodies, and we will give them proper burials. S’Raka, you will be one of my captains, and with the army I’ve raised, we will finally bring democracy and justice to this barbarian land. I thank you for risking your life for this cause, you are a very noble person. We will fight the corrupt kings from the shadows of the storms and blizzards of Skyrim. From this moment onward, we are the Stormcloak Rebellion.”
******************************************************
Hope you enjoyed the story, and guys, if I make another "Give me Ideas" thread, please respond to it correctly and don't troll my topic with your stupid stuff. Thank you, CheeseSauce13 for being intelligent.