Hey there, Destana again.  Last time I made the last few preparations for the Thalmor invasion, went through some training, rescued some people, fought some Thalmor insurgents.

 

The morning of the 29th day, Fenrir came to me along with Runa, Damien, Ulfric and Serana.

“Mom, we have two primary commanders with two forces so that if either major city is taken, we’ll have a reserve.  In Windhelm, Balfhe Hard-Heart.  In Solitude, Hrolf Witch-Slayer.  They’ve been running independent operations.  You may notice a few groups of Imperial Soldiers, many of which are stationed in Solitude.  They’re defectors to the Bandit King.  Still Imperial, but they came here to join the fight against the Thalmor, or because they were trapped here by the Time Break.”

“Hmm… maybe I shouldn’t have killed those Imperial troops on the way out of Markarth,” I muttered.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing!” I smiled.

“The Thieves’ Guild and Dark Brotherhood are ready,” Runa said.

“As are the Vampires,” Serana said.

“All right.  Let’s go see Balfhe,” I said.

Ulfric and Serana stayed in the throne room for now while the kids and I went to the map room.

 

Balfhe looked over to me, wearing similar armor to Ulfric.  He stood and shook my hand, “Nice to finally meet you, Stormblade.”

Then he whispered, “I know your station now, but are you still up for missions?  You fought in the civil war.  The people look up to you, respect you.  You helped free Skyrim.”

“Of course.  They couldn’t keep me away from doing this kind of dirty work.” 

“Good.  I finally have a lead on the staging point for the Thalmor.”

“Is it a prison?” I asked flatly.

“A hidden old fort.  The embassy was never where the true leadership lied, it was a cover.  This is the true nerve center.”

I smirked, “Sounds like something I can sink my teeth into.  I won’t leave any of them alive.”

“Great.  I knew I could count on you.  And don’t tell anyone.  The Thalmor have spies, and it’s better if they don’t know you’re coming,” Balfhe said.

 

I turned to the group, “Alright, who’s coming?”

Runa nodded, “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Fenrir said.

“I’m sure you guys can handle this,” Damien said, “I’m going to head to Solitude and talk to Hrolf, establish what we’re up to there.”

“Sounds good.  Do your best, son,” I said. 

Damien teleported to Solitude, and we traveled on our fast horses. 

 

 

It wasn’t but an hour’s ride from Windhelm, on top of a plateau and hard to see from the road; tucked away.  The door was coated in a strange magic, which I was able to dispel without a great deal of effort.

But as we stepped inside, a portcullis slammed shut behind us.

 

“I should’ve known,” I said.

“It seems we have a fresh catch,” a Thalmor said from behind a gate in front of us, “I am Aldarilar, and you are?”

“Destana Stormblade.  Runa Fair-Shield.  Fenrir Stormcloak,” I replied flatly, “Let us out of here.”

“And why would I do that?  It appears the Stormcloaks have finally found us, I hadn’t imagined it would take so long.  You must be the agents they sent to take us out, hmmmm?  Well, it seems this is the end of your journey.  I think I’ll send your heads back to your leaders in Windhelm.  That’ll send a message.  Any last words?”

 

“C’mon then.  Let’s see what you’ve got,” I drew my claw and dagger.

“Such arrogance!  I doubt anyone will miss you with an attitude like that!” He said, and the gate started to pull away. 

 

 

Runa had drawn her Goblin Bow and Fenrir his Dwemer Crossbow and they fired a couple shots as I ran in (how backwards).  I slashed at the mer in the doorway until they passed by me.  The kids drew their melee weapons to engage and I took on the next couple.  Runa and Fenrir slashed through the first ones in record time, and I threw up invisibility, letting the third and fourth go for them as well.  I took the opportunity and slit one’s throat, but Runa caved his chest in at the same time, and for the fourth one I FUS-RO-DAH’d him to the far side of the room. 

 

This gave me an opportunity to rush into the room, the others following.  Aldarilar was ready with powerful sprays of lightning, cutting through my vitality quickly, even as I slashed at him.  I strafed him about a pillar and healed myself while Runa and Damien flanked him. 

 

“TIID!” I shouted as I emerged at hyper-speed, slashing him in the back.  But he was very slippery and hard to pin down, backing away as he sprayed the kids with fire.  Even alone, he was no joke.  I threw a Nemesis on him, cutting through his life force with a baleful illusory copy of Aldarilar, while Runa gave him the last few strikes he needed to go down.  I breathed a sigh of relief and threw down a group heal.  Clearly, these were the elites.  Their leader could even give me trouble with support. 

 

 

We proceeded to use maximum stealth to clean out the rest of the secret fortress, all of us using our ranged attacks.

“That is a nice crossbow, Fenrir,” I said.

“I’ve been studying the construction and pieced together a few schematics, built them all myself.  This one is a very rare later dwemer bowgun that uses magazines; an autoloader.”

“You mean you don’t have to reload after every shot?” I asked.

“Here, give it a try,” he tossed it to me.  I shot the next Thalmor with precision accuracy and it loaded the next bolt itself.

“You can have that one.  I know it’s not magical like the Nerevarine’s Bow, but it might come in handy.”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I have two more,” Fenrir pulled out a similar looking one with a beefier looking barrel.

“What’s that one do?” I asked.

He aimed around the next corner and shot, it blasting five bolts at once.

“WOW!” I blinked, “That could tear through an enemy.”

“Only problem is it eats through ammo, and I have to reload one of these magazines after every shot.  But it’s not any slower than a normal crossbow.”

Runa sighed, “You and I need to find something to nerd out about together.  You guys have this, you and Damien have magic.  I use heavy armor and greatswords and you use small weapons and… no armor.  Or clothing… I guess.”

“I mean, you could probably pull this off too,” I smirked.

“Mom!” Runa groaned.

“We could get our hair done!  I like your hair!”

She smiled, twirling her braid, “Thanks.”

Later as I was breaking into some footlockers, Runa said, “You know you don’t need to open every single lock in here.  How much is actually in those?”

“Only about 20 gold in each locker.”

“How much gold do you have?”

“Like… 270K I think.  I donated a bunch to the war effort.  It’s hard to keep track when you can just stuff it in the dimensional bag,” I chuckled, “And to answer you – I’m thorough!”

 

When we were done, Fenrir asked, “Could you drop me off at Solitude before you go back to Windhelm?”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to stop by the Dawnstar Sanctuary,” Runa said, “Only a bit north of here.”

When I got back to Windhelm, I was alone, and the teleport puts me in the Gray Quarter.  So I walked up to the Palace of Kings. 

Suddenly – the sounds of a mass teleport.  The plaza was covered in Thalmor troops, but it had already been loosely populated with Stormcloaks and armed citizens who joined the melee.  I joined the fray and after a few minutes we took them all down.  A few guard casualties, but all the Thalmor casualties.

 

 

 

“They’re getting bolder,” I said as I walked into the Palace of Kings.

“How did it go?” Balfhe asked.

“It’s done.  No survivors.  Those guys were surprisingly tough.  Maybe that’ll make it harder for them to coordinate an attack once they get here, but I doubt it.”

 

 

“But in the short term, it’s good.”

“What’s the latest?” I folded my arms.

“Just like you predicted, they’re massing at the Cyrodiil borders.  We’re struggling to get supplies where we need them.  You’re pretty good at getting places fast right?  Mind looking for our last convoy?”

“Sure.  Mark the map,” I held out my quest book’s map.

 

 

 

I teleported to a Forsworn site and flew there.  I approached the convoy in stealth to find it being ransacked by Thalmor.  I shot them down.  They put up a good fight with magic, but I won.  No survivors, for or against me. I teleported back to Windhelm and gave him the news.

“Damned Thalmor.  We need to change up our routes.  Do you mind doing another small job?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“This is probably beneath your station and job description, but with your mobility… also, durability, I know these will get to their destinations,” he handed me two packets of official battle plans and orders, “We all know you can look after yourself.”

“Fine.  Where?”  Fort Neugrad in Falkreath Hold and Fort Greenwall in the Rift.”

I took the first to Velfrid, and we were immediately assaulted by two assassins headed right for the commander.  I used stealth and stabbed the first in the back and fought the second off with Commander Velfrid’s help. 

 

 

Then I took the second to Commander Savild.  Nothing interesting there.  And I was back in Windhelm. 

“That’s all for now,” Balfhe said, “We have a covert op we’re putting together tonight.  Be back here later if you want in.  At the very least, try to be back here in the morning.  Everybody knows when that barrier comes down it’s going to be Thalmor city over here.”

“I’m going to Solitude,” I said, “Be back in a few hours.”

 

I appeared at the gates and headed over to Castle Dour.

I walked in to the map room there and found a man in Stormcloak armor, pouring over the map.

“Ah, I recognize you.  Stormblade, right?  I saw you with Ulfric before the battle for Solitude.  Great day for Skyrim.  I’m Hrolf Witch-Slayer,” the man shook my hand, “I’m sure you have all sorts of wild stories to tell.  I’d love to hear them when I have the time.  You come here to help in the defense effort?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.  Seen my boys?” I asked.

“Yeah, I already put them to work.  A local warlock making it hard for us to muster defenses in the Pale, and a man dueling half the countryside.”

“What you got for me, commander?” I asked.

“I do have a small job for someone of your…” He looked me up and down, “Talents.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” I asked.

“A supply convoy got ransacked, we think it was by Forsworn.  What did you think I meant?”

I blinked, “Honestly, I don’t know.  Just mark it on my map.  I bet it was the damned Lost Tribe.”

 

I teleported to a nearby town, and found it was under attack by a dragon, the first I’d seen in a couple weeks at least.  This one was colorful and powerful.  They must be weeding out the lesser boys, or at least getting them in line. 

I hovered, peppering him with arrows, then threw down a Dragonrend to get him on the ground. 

“Balaan hakoran!  You are brave, your defeat brings me honor!” The dragon shouted. 

 

 

Him and I fought hand-to-hand for a while.  A large white bear and hunter joined in, and the dragon was downed.  I thanked the hunter and his pet, and made my way to the convoy site. 

 

I found dead Stormcloaks, a wagon driver, and a few Imperial auxiliaries, and a dead Forsworn.  Yep, definitely the Lost.  As I finished my investigation, I was attacked by bandits, probably figuring they’d scavenge what the Forsworn hadn’t taken.  But I took them down.  I followed the trail of blood from an injured Forsworn and it led me to a cave to the South with another dead Forsworn.  I stepped inside. 

 

A shirtless Forsworn n a headdress greeted me at the entrance, “Our chieftain, Chlodio, wished to speak with you.  Please, come this way.”

I walked through the cave, finding only maybe a dozen emaciated forsworn, more than half noncombatants and children. 

I stepped up onto a rock plateau and he said, “Greetings.  I knew you would come.  Saw it in the blood.  It never lies, you know?  More truth in the dead than in the living?”

“You a shaman?  They still haven’t taught me everything,” I said.

Chlodio tilted his head, unsure what to make of me.

“I know, a Redguard woman in Forsworn garb representing the Stormcloaks is kind of confusing.  I strive to be the peacemaker amongst the tribes and the holds,” I replied.

“The blood said – a great hero of the blue ones.  Those who would bury us under their boot heels.  Ironic that you’re this tribe’s last hope.  You’re the one who put Madanach back on the throne?”

“Yes.”

“Be advised – not all the tribes swear fealty to him.”

“I know.  Hagravens and the human witches under them work with us, but I hear they have a shadowy mistress called the Night Matron.  And the western reachmen in High Rock aren’t with us.  Then there’s the Lost,” I said, “Your name, not mine.”

“I must admit, that was my pet project.  But it may have spiraled out of control.  Many of them are independent now, roving and pillaging as they please.  As you can see, now, this group is in no shape to resist you.  Thank you for staying your hand.”

 

 

“You’ve seen what I can do.  I like to take the weak and build them back up.  Because…” I paused, “Because I used to be weak.  I know what it’s like.  So, what brought you to this lowly state?”

“We’re cursed.  Some time ago a Stormcloak patrol found our original home, burning, killing and pillaging indiscriminately.  My own wife was dishonored, maimed.  She took her own life later.  Shaming us was not enough for them though.  They took our most precious heirloom.  Betrana’s Jug.  It was used by the great hag, Betrana.  She would pour the fresh blood of screaming enemies into the vessel, chanting to the old… actually that’s not important.  Without the jug, we’ve grown weak.  The curse weighs heavily on us all.  If you manage to return it, my tribe will be in your debt.”

 

 

 

“First of all, can you blame them, after how many your tribe has killed?” I asked, “But an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.  I aim to end this cycle of hate.  Where was your camp and how long ago was this?”

 

 

He marked it on my map, and I followed the trail, covering large stretches of land by flight.  I found a small warparty in the afternoon, fighting off a group of wolves just outside their camp.  When I set down, they were divving up spoils from their earlier hunt.

 

“Who goes there?” One of the men said.

“Fool, that’s Stormblade,” the man looked me up and down, “I heard you’d gone native, but I didn’t expect this.  I remember you wearing Nightingale armor, or maybe it was dragonbone.  Who remembers after ten years?  Either way, it’s an honor.  Please, sit and drink with us.  Surely you have some stories to share.”

“I do.  But you know the Thalmor are going to invade tomorrow.  I’m on a timetable.  I heard you guys looted a jug from the forsworn.  Could I have it?”

“I have it,” one of the men said.

“Look at this!” The first man said, “You came here for some junk we took off a savage wench?  You have gone native.  And soft. 

“She can have it, I don’t care,” the other man said.

“No, don’t give it to her.  Look at you, groveling and pleading.  It sickens me you ever wore the same uniform as we did, coward,” he turned to pick up a piece of the meat.

 

“You know, I can see why so many people hate the Stormcloaks,” I said.  When he turned back, I’d already touched the Nerevarine’s Bow and gone invisible.  They shrugged and went back to their feasting.  I took the easiest path forward:  I pickpocketed the jug off the man’s belt, they didn’t notice, and I went on my way.  I flew back to Chlodio and gave it to him.

“There it is, Bretana’s own vessel.  We are forever in your debt.  If we are capable, I and what’s left of my tribe will gladly fight by your side,” he sighed, and continued, “You’ve already done so much.  But I must ask you one more favor.  Deeper in this cave, beyond the barrier we made, is a deep Falmer hole.  They’re at our throats.”

“Killing Falmer?  Fine.  It’ll probably take the afternoon, but I can do it,” I said.

I ventured deeper, casting a Perpetual Light spell because it was extremely dark down here.  I used my normal method:  stealthy archer, until I got to the end which reminded me of the Pit of 100 Battles.  Waves of Falmer assaulted me until the chief came in.  But I transformed into a Vampire Lord and blasted them all with Blood Storm.  I gave the forsworn the news, and they pledged their undying loyalty to my cause.

 

 

Then I went back to Solitude. 

“I ended up helping the small group of Forsworn.  They want peace now,” I said, “Got to kill a bunch of Falmer.”

“I’m fairly skeptical about the whole ‘forsworn joining the cause’ thing.  But I’ll trust you on this,” Hrolf said.

We waited there for a while for the boys to come back.  Eventually sitting around the table we got to talking.

“So what are you going to do if we survive this war?”

“You mean like after we’ve secured Skyrim and the Thalmor are no longer a threat?  Not sure,” Hrolf pondered, “What about you?”

“I dunno.  There always seems to be something for me to do.  Maybe go to Solstheim?  Maybe go back to Hammerfell for a little bit?  Or I could enjoy being a queen.”

“Well, I love hunting.  Always have.  I like the outdoors, and … being alone.  I don’t like being with people.  I know most people don’t want to admit that but I like solitude,” Hrolf said.

“I can understand that.  I do my best work alone,” I said.

“If I had my druthers I’d just live in a cabin in the woods, hunt some deer every now and then, read, and, I don’t know, maybe other things.”

“What kind of other things?” I asked.

“The kind of things you don’t freely share with fellow Stormcloaks,” Hrolf said, “I’m going to tell you, but I swear to Talos if you tell anyone, I’ll cut your throat.  I mean that.”

We paused, and finally he said, “I like to paint.  I love the vistas and the views outside.  I like to sit up on the mountains and paint the world as I see it.  Obviously not the kind of hobby you talk about when you’re supposed to be a bloodthirsty Stormcloak officer.  The natural world fascinates me.  I love animals.  I mean, I hunt them, but just the bare minimum to survive and keep myself sharp.  Besides, if I couldn’t hunt, it’d be just one more thing for the ‘nord’ nords to criticize me about.  They’d say the Breton was coming out and I was weak, so I hunt the animals.  But I respect them, no question.”

“I understand.  I play the Lute, I like to build buildings.  I read and write.  I enchant.  They’re all art.  Runa loves to cook,” I said.

“I’m quite the smith and I love dwemer construction,” Fenrir said as he walked in.

 

Hrolf stared daggers at Fenrir, “Private conversation.  What do you have for me, prince?”

Fenrir smiled, “I fought the man.  It took hours, but I won.  But let me tell you the details…”

 

---------------------------------

 

Hey, this is Fenrir.  I’m pretty damn excited to finally let my voice be heard here.  Runa gets to do this, why shouldn’t I?  Anyway, I approached Hrolf first.  He looked me up and down. 

“Hey, I’m Fenrir.  Got any tasks for me before tomorrow?”

“You know, from your letters and what I’ve heard, I pictured you differently,” Hrolf said, “Doesn’t matter.  I got something.  You a good fighter?  One-on-one?”

“Sure.”

“For all its faults, the Empire has a sound legal system that offers a uniform code of law for all of Skyrim.  But now, there are problems,” Hrolf said, “For instance, the revival of the Holmgang, also known as a trial by combat.  It’s a traditional method to resolve disputes between Nords.  Rare under the empire, only really used by independent Nords like the Sverd.  However, it is apparently back in fashion.  A man named Gunnarr has been roaming Skyrim, challenging Nords to duels.  By doing so, he’s able to intimidate people into giving up their assets.  Only a handful have face him and all perished.  He is abusing the tradition and mocking our laws.  He has to be stopped.”

 

“So you want me to fight him?” I asked.

“Yes, we need proof that there’s justice in the Holmgang.  You will prove this by challenging Gunnarr to a duel and defeating him.”

“Well, what if there’s not justice in the Holmgang?  Whoever has the strongest man is just right.  I know, I know, the theory is the gods will decide.  But you think the gods really take such a personal interest in our petty squabbles?”

Hrolf sighed.

“Alright, alright.  I get your point.  Can’t have a guy going around beating everybody up.  I’ll take care of it.”

“He’s rumored to be loitering at the Nightgate Inn.  If he’s a traditionalist it shouldn’t be much trouble to goad him.”

When I got to Nightgate (which took me a couple hours, Runa let me borrow Shadowmere) I found a few colorful characters.  A man wearing draugr armor called Moris the Draugr because of his prowess on the battlefield.  A hunter with a white snow bear, and then Gunnarr.  I walked over to him.

 

“I heard you’re quite the duelist.”

“You heard right.  Wait, I know your face.  You’re that big Stormcloak leader aren’t you?  Stormdrain?  I have to say you’re … underwhelming.”

“Yep.  That’s me.  Fenrir Stormdrain,” I said. 

“What do you want, a drink?  Stick around and we can bottle up some piss for you, Stormdrain.”

“Actually, I came here to pick a fight,” I said.

“Well, you’ve got it.  It will be my honor to beat you up.  Go to where the three roads meet and we’ll let the steel do the talking.”

I went straight there and found him in the middle of a snowstorm, making the afternoon pretty dang overcast.

 

 

He took out his sword and shield and I my axe and shield and we spent an very large amount of time feinting, blocking and striking, feeling each other out.  Don’t get me wrong, he was tough and a master swordsman, and I would’ve lost within a few minutes if I hadn’t adjusted my strategy. 

 

First, when I got hurt, I chugged a potion, then I swapped to my old Stormcloak axe that sends my target flying onto their back after they take so many hits from it.  When I got him down the first time, I swapped to one of my Dwemer Crossbows (the one that fires five shots at once) and buried the shots in his chest.  When he got back, I was ready for another round of shield tag.  This went on for a while until the ground was coated in our blood and it was afternoon.  Finally, he yielded.  Surprisingly, pretty boring.  But I learned a few things about using a shield from fighting the man for hours. 

 

He saluted me, “You did well.  I knew it would be a Stormcloak in the end that would beat me.  I only ask you hear my request before you send me to Sovngarde.”

“Honestly, I don’t see the need to kill you.  Just stop dueling people,” I said back, “What’s your request?”

“I fought for the Legion.  I fought well.  Earned my retirement just before Ulfric’s rebellion.  I was sick of war, so I stayed out of it.  Never thought that pompous blowhard would pull it off.  He’s doomed us all, you know?  Skyrim, all of Tamriel.  The Dominion will destroy us.  I figured I’d join in old Nord traditions with the Holmgang, and I made a killing.  No shortage of cocky Stormcloaks willing to duel.  Wasn’t trying to get rich, though.  Trying to prove the stupidity of the tradition for one thing.  For another, I used it to smuggle people out of Skyrim.  Up until a few months ago, that is.”

“Why, though?” I asked, “Ulfric is my father.  He’s changed since the old days.”

“Boy, you might be your father’s glowing diamond in the rough, but he sees you and your mother as exceptions to the rule, mark my words.  Anyway, don’t matter now.  I want no part in Ulfric’s Skyrim.  I’m no position to ask you this, but will you help my family escape?”  He asked.

“I can help you to the border so that when the times line up you can step across.  That should be tomorrow morning.”

“You’re serious?  No tricks?  You’re an honorable man.  Certainly more honorable than I’d have expected from a Stormcloak,” Gunnarr said, “Time is of the essence.  Meet me outside Riverwood, and we’ll depart for Hammerfell.  The Cyrodiil border is too risky right now.”

“Agreed.”

I rode with him to Riverwood.  We picked up his family and their scant belongings, and took our leave. 

 

 

Near the border, we were ambushed by Bounty Hunters and they brought a few with them.  While Gunnarr, Shadowmere, and I were fighting with the hunters, we were all ambushed by a large group of bandits.  To protect the children, I knew it was time to pull out the third crossbow, and I set it on autofire. 

 

 

 

After mowing through the bandits and hunters, and looting them for what they had, I showed Gunnarr and his family the border.  They thanked us and I made my way back here.

 

“You didn’t kill him, though?” Hrolf asked.

“Well, no.  But I didn’t need to.”

“Get off the kid’s back,” Mom said, “He dealt with the problem.”

 

In the meantime, Damien had walked in and was ready to tell his story. 

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Hello, audience.  This is Damien Guivenne and now I will tell my story.  Unfortunately, Meru is off doing whatever (she doesn't really tell me where she goes, probably back to Oblivion) so this story will be a little light on the titillation.  

"I'm here for the Stormcloaks.  I'm Fenrir's older brother," I said.

"Your family is confusing," Hrolf said, "Anyway, I have a job for you.  An ex-Stormcloak named Einarr Broad-Axe is positioning himself as a warlord in the Pale.  To his credit, he is efficient in dealing with outlaws.  He was a fine soldier, and might've been a good jarl... but Skald if Ulfric's man in the Pale.  He's an idiot, but he's a loyal idiot.  More importantly, we can't have regional strongmen popping up and taking the law into their own hands.  There would be chaos."

 

 

"I mean, that's kinda what Ulfric did, though I guess he did use a legitimate challenge for the kingship," I said.

"You done?" Hrolf asked.

"Please, continue," I replied.

"We have to be united, no matter what.  We have to show we're united behind Ulfric and his laws.  We cannot afford to be seen as lawless barbarians.  Talk to Einarr, try to convince him to step down.  If that fails, do what you need to."

 

I teleported and flew to Einarr's cave, and you know how I said there would be no titillation?  Well, two guards were having sex on a spare bedroll when I came in.  I crossed a snow-covered bridge across a (somehow) bottomless pit and found Einarr sitting on a wooden chair flanked by guards, nearby a cage.  I approached Einarr.  

"What's with the Thalmor in the cage?"

"Oh, he's a little project of mine.  My unit snatched him before he could flee Skyrim, let me keep him in exchange for some mead.  Cut his tongue and broke his hands to make sure he couldn't hex us with that filthy elf magic.  Beat him when we get bored."

I looked down at my hands, robes, staff, but said nothing.

He continued, "Found out he tortured some Nords to death back in that keep of theirs.  I make him watch when we kick his comrades into the pit."

Gotta wonder which keep they're talking about... the Thalmor have so many secret prisons in Skyrim somehow.

"We'll put him out of his misery someday, but first I want to see him crack.  I told him I'd make it quick if he acknowledges Talos.  But he's a stubborn elf."  

"So what'd you do in the war?" I asked.

"I scouted and hunted Thalmor.  They had free reign in Imperial territory, hurt a lot of people, made others disappear.  All for worshipping Talos.  We mostly worked as scouts until the latter part of the war.  Then the Thalmor panicked, most tried leaving Skyrim.  Some got away.  Others... not so lucky.  We bled some, burned others, crushed a few.  That was my favorite, hearing them break apart under the stone.  Bad way to go."

What a delightful man.

I asked, "So you aren't worried about the Thalmor?"

"Individually, no.  As a group?  Definitely yes.  They've had years to bleed out the Empire and take their riches, building up their forces.  Here we are at the top of the continent, completely unprepared to fight them.  We're vulnerable... at the moment.  Though I don't think the Thalmor are as strong as they let on.  Even so, we have to be vigilant.  I wouldn't put it past the Empire to align with the Thalmor out of desperation.  I don't know.  Crazy times.  By the way, who are you?"

 

 

"You told me all that without knowing who I was?  I'm Damien, here on behalf of the Stormcloaks.  We need to talk," I replied.

"I know who you are!  You're Stormblade's son!  In the flesh!  This must be serious.  Welcome to my keep.  Help yourself to the fire or the vittles lying about.  We came about them honestly, if in a roundabout sort of way.  Down to business though, what can I do for you?"

"You're undermining Skald's authority here in the Pale."

"Skald's authority?  Ulfric should know better.  You know what his authority is?  Sitting on his ass and groaning about giants.  That's it."

"You're not wrong."

"I fought for the Pale... fought for Skyrim.  I bled, only to come back and see chaos taking hold of my home because of Skald's stupidity.  So I acted.  I get results.  I lead by example.  I can't help it if people come to me for help.  Maybe if Skald got off his pampered ass...  I'm not stupid.  I know how this will play out of if I resist.  However, I have made certain commitments.  I want to see this thing through.  Help me finish what I started, and I give you my word I'll step down and... take up farming."

 

"First job, a man named Grettir.  No nickname.  He's killed six men in the pale and just won't die.  One of mine said they saw him fighting with a sword in his guts.  Still, I need somebody who can think outside the box."

 

I made my way to the bandit fort and approached like a mobile artillery platform, blowing them all to Oblivion.  Strangely, I knew exactly where he and the bandit captain were, but they refused to come outside.  I used invisibility, and mark and recall.  I stepped inside, and they saw through my invisibility nearly immediately, so I recalled.  I tried again by summoning a couple creatures, and the Grettir and his two captains chewed through my summons in seconds.  I noticed their wounds were closing unusually quickly.  I recalled again.  This time, I casted invisibility, snuck to the back of the room, blew them to the front door with a blast of air and spent the five seconds (an eternity in combat) casting Flame Tempest.  They were all three engulfed in flame, and HITTING ME THROUGH THE TORRENT OF FIRE!  Fortunately, they all became charred corpses.  I healed myself and returned to the cave.  

 

 

"They were vampires.  Strong ones, too," I said.

"Makes sense.  Second job is a man named Cato.  He was an Imperial soldier that we captured some time ago.  After questioning him and... utilizing him for manual lagor I ordered some men to dispose of him.  I underestimated Cato, because he somehow escaped.  Now he's leading what I believe is a band of bloodthirsty Imperial partisans who attack Nords on sight.  Men, women, children - doesn't matter to Cato.  They kill them and rip them to pieces.  And eat them."

"That got dark quickly.  I'll take care of it."

I used the clues given, followed the trail and eventually it led to a road and I was rushed by a werewolf.  

"Who are you?  You're not one of Einarr's men.  You have his scent, but it's faint."

"I'm Damien.  Hey, have you been eating children?" I asked.

"Those Nords captured me, beat me, burned me, made me work for weeks.  Then they went to kill me.  If not for the werewolf in me I'd have perished.  That is why I hunt them."

"Yeah, I understand.  But... did you eat the women and the children?" I asked again, "And I'm a mage.  I'll know if you're lying."

That was a bald-faced lie.  I'm actually better at illusion then destruction, but this seemed like a destruction kind of day.  

"Yes."

"I can empathize with you.  But, now, you have to die," I said, and I blasted him with a double-handed Elemental Blast, then I finished him off with a Custom version of Flames.  

 

I returned to Einarr, "He's dead."

"Good.  There's one last thing.  Someone is burning travelers in the Pale.  I suspect a rogue pyromancer."

I nodded.  This job seemed more aimed towards me anyway.  A spell duel.  Again I followed the clues - burned corpses and scorch marks leading up to a Vigilant of Stendarr.

"A vigilant?  Why would you burn those people?" I asked.

"Come to admire the handiwork of Stendarr's faithful?  Iniquity is always cleansed by fire, you know.  They mocked us after the hall was destroyed by those fanged devils, called us useless, weak.  So many brothers and sisters killed.  The attack on the hall was punishment for our weakness, our irreverence.  We will return to the true path of righteousness."

"You're quite mad," I replied, readying my casting hands.

 

 

"Your charred corpse will make a fine monument to the might Stendarr!"

"I'm sure this isn't what he had in mind," I said.  He flung a fireball at me, but I blocked with a Greater Ward.  I threw a Calm spell at him, and he stood there for a second, unsure of what to do, just walking around like an idiot.  I summoned a Dark Seducer, powered up a Black Winter, and by the time he was realizing I was an enemy again, he was a frozen corpse.  It might've been overkill, but people who use magic for such things to terrify innocents annoy me. 

I returned to Einarr again.

"As if those fanatics don't have enough problems, now they're roasting random travelers," he said, "Well, you took care of all my loose ends.  Now I'll honor my part of the bargain.  I'll return to farming, I guess until the hold needs me again.  If Ulfric wants Skald, he can have him.  As for me, I'll be in Falkreath.  I don't think the Pale will be safe for me without armed men around.  FOr what it's worth, thank you.  I didn't expect you to follow through, but maybe I've grown too cynical."

 

Then I came back here.

 

"Damn, Damien.  Excellent work."

"I wonder what Runa is doing?"

 

----------------------------------------------------------------

Well, here I am.  I showed back up in Windhelm.  This is Runa.

 

"Hey, Balfhe, where did the others go?" I asked.

"They're helping the other Commander in Solitude."

"Oh yeah."

"Hey, since you're here.  do you have a moment to help me out?" He asked.

"Sure."

"You're Stormblade's daughter and she swears by your loyalty," Balfhe leaned in and whispered, "We have a spy in our midst.  Since you're something of a spy yourself I thought you might help me out.  It's the only way they keep finding out convoys.  And one of our high ranking officers was assassinated at a Stormcloak camp in the reach."

"Well I did pit the Crimson Scars and Morag Tong against each other through trickery."

"Sounds like a party.  It's one of the Commanders.  I'm going to take a little trip.  Meet with the three senior officers and tell them I'll be traveling to a small camp away from the major cities.  Tell then I'm only going to have a few guards."

"So what's your plan?  Tell each one of them a different location?"

"Yeah, actually.  You're clever," Balfhe replied.

So I did it.  I told Debent he would be going to the Pale.  Clagius I told he would be going to Hjaalmarch.  Hodlin the Brave I told he was going to Winterhold.  And I went to the camp in the Pale.  

 

"Anything happen yet?" I asked Grisveld, the captain there.  

"Not really.  A farmer walked by about an hour ago, Hrongvir here almost put an arrow through his heart but I stopped him."

"Well, best be ready," I said.

"Hopefully it won't be necessary and the Thalmor are just that good," he said, "Anyway, while we're waiting is there a Mister Fair-Sh ~ Oh shit what is that?" 

A small group of lightly armored Khajiit and Altmer began firing on us, but they didn't plan on this force being this well trained, and having me at their back.  We iced them quickly.

Grisveld said, "Well fought.  You should go to Windhelm immediately.  Balfhe will want to hear about this."

I traveled back (god, I miss Shadowmere).  

Balfhe was waiting with bated breath, and had apparently changed to lighter armor, "Good.  You're back."

"Debent is the spy," I said flatly.

"Dammit!  Thanks for figuring this out.  Do you want to deal with him or should I?" He asked.

"I'll do it."

"I can see the look in your eye, Runa.  Try not to kill him if you can help it.  And go immediately.  Don't want him getting wind of this."

"Right," I said as I walked up to the Palace bedrooms.  

"Hello again, what can I do for you this time?" Debent asked.

"You're under arrest," I said.

"By who's authority?" Debent asked.

"Balfhe.  We know you work for the Thalmor."

"How could you possibly have come to that conclusion?"

"The Pale camp was attacked."

"By the gods, is he okay?"

"I lied," I said, "It was to flush out a spy."

"It must've been Catanius.  He's a slimy bastard!" Debent said.

"I only told you that I was going to the Pale.  I told the others different things."

"Uhh... I... "

"Give it up."

"Fine!  It was me.  What are you going to do about it?  I could crush you like an insect."

I laughed out loud.  When I was done, I said, "This doesn't need to end in one of us dying."

"I suppose you think I'm going to go quietly?" Debent asked, drawing his sword.

"If you want to keep your head you will," I smiled acidly.

 

"Hah!  We'll see about that!" 

"KRII!" I shouted, marking him for death.  I drew the Moonlight Greatsword up and came down with great force, and a Windhelm guard rushed into the room, jumping in front of my blade.  I stopped my stroke just an inch from his head.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" I shouted, "Out of the way!" 

"FUS!" I staggered both of them, then slashed Debent across the chest.  He got one good swing on me and then I brought my greatsword down on his head, crushing his skull.  

 

 

Then I reported back to Balfre with the letter he had on him, from the Thalmor.

"I see he's not with you."

"Yep, and he had this note.  I think it's time for me to use my skills as an assassin to take out his informant.  He's waiting for this letter at the Nightgate Inn," I said.

"My thoughts exactly," he replied.

I traveled to the Nightgate and found him easily.  A Thalmor in a cloak.  When I approached him, he knew what was happening and tried to defend himself.  Just like before, a man rushed in to help me, but this time he was in full imperial armor, not a guard, and he stabbed the Thalmor in the back, which was helpful.  

"Umm.. hi," I said.

"Ma'am, I was a Legate in the Imperial army, trapped here by the Time Break.  I was watching that Thalmor all evening, and I knew he was up to something.  Are you by any chance with the Stormcloaks?"

"I am.  Are you going to challenge me to a fight or something?" I asked.

 

 

"On the contrary.  The Imperial troops still in Skyrim are scattered, and I want to know that if I bring men to Windhelm you know we're there to help you.  We hate the Thalmor as much as you do," he explained.

"We already have some Imperial troops working with us.  At least one of our commanders, Clagius, is a former Legion Commander."

"Good.  I will off to fetch them!" He shouted.

"Wait, what is your name?" I said, but he'd already charged out the front door. 

Well, back to Windhelm.  At this point it was night and time for bed.  When I walked in to the Palace of Kings, Fenrir, Damien and Mom were there, already talking strategy for the morning.  

"The informant is dealt with.  Also, more defector Imperial troops want to join our cause."

"Good," Mom said.

 

"Oh and Fenrir, gimme back my horse!"

 

 

 

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