A/N: Hey friends, a friend of mine wanted me to write a Skyrim story, so that's what I'm doing. I apologize for any mistakes in the lore or geography, I didn't play Skyrim long enough to even find out what a Riekling is. If you see any false information printed, please tell me by PM or review so I don't continue the mistake. I'll try to update this story whenever I can, or not depending on if people want me to continue it. This takes place before "The Chief of Thirsk Hall" and the Dragonborn isn't included, therefore doesn't become chief.

Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim, yet that is.

Let's get on with the story. Enjoy!

~Solstheim - Thirsk~

Quite the normal day among the Rieklings, some crafting, some fighting trees, some sleeping, and all speaking in their 'language' if it could be called that. The Chieftain brandishes his spear at hand, stepping around his people with great ease. A lone figure stalks among the trees, observing the Rieklings as if they were the unknowing victims to the perfect plan, they probably were after all. The figure wears a dark green cloak over his tanned leather armor, his hood masking his face, two swords at his waist. He steps out of the woods with a sigh, approaching the Chieftain. Immediately he is attacked by a herd of Rieklings, all bearing arms, and yelling in their language. Swarm tactic. Good.

Without a second thought he draws his swords, scabbards still on, and hits all of them upside the head. I need an army, not of the dead however. The Chief approaches, spear at the ready.

"What do you want here?" he growls, anger evident in his eyes.

"Your army..."

"No, unless you defeat me in a duel. To the death!" the Chieftain yells, already charging the stranger. A few Rieklings awaking and recovering from the scabbard swipe. Tossing his scabbards to the side, hardly quick enough to block the spear. The Chieftain turns his spear and rolls to his opponent's side, going for another stab that hits the cloaked man's thigh. With a grunt he turns with both blades, the first missing, the second slicing across the spear-wielder's stomach. Chief doubles over as blood stains and drips from the deep wound. Using this moment to his advantage a sword finds its way into the spear's handle, making the spear seem like a splintered piece of wood. The Riekling, not interested in dying, pounces at the stranger, grabbing onto his wrist for a split second till his blade enter's the chief's chest. He falls to the ground, blood running down the sides of his face.

"Who.. are, you?" he asks weakly before falling into the eternal slumber of death.

"I am Lakrogim! Now your Chieftain! Listen carefully, I need to take back my home, and you all will be my army!" Lakrogim decrees, dropping his hood to reveal himself as a Nord. The Rieklings sway and mumble in their lang.

"Chieftain!" one shouts, leading to the chant of the word across the ranks.

I have my army, they need training bad but after that, I'll rule all of Solstheim! And nobody will get in my way...

~Three months later - Thirsk~
Lakrogim's POV

My military of basic minions line into an orderly block position, weapons hiding in the scabbards and shields balancing on their backs. In the three months that passed these Riekling went from a hopeless group of hooligans to a ready-to-fight minutemen in no time. First hings first, testing the ranks in water, a navy. I whistle in a certain pattern, my generals all coming forward.

"I'm about to start a naval unit, pick one of the Rieklings in your section each, after tell them to meet me at the docks. Disperse."

They instantly turn as if in a wild goose chase for their best swimmer. Chuckling to myself , humored, I begin walking forward to the docks.

~At the docks~

Almost immediately as I arrive I see eight Rieklings sprinting at me. At least those generals got their job done in a record time. I see a ship in the distance, armed with cannons and grappling hooks. It begins to rain, a bit of thunder booming in the distance. The rain better prepares the soldiers, this is good for them. Looking behind I see that all of them have their shields and spears.

"Nice to see you all got here. Anyway you see the ship out there, what you need to do is take it over. Tie your shields together with the rope here. Your shields can make a nice raft but they still require steering. Pick a captain. I'll join you to loot the ship it looks like your opponents have swords, but are unaware for an attack. Prepare and perform!" They make quick work, the ship seems to be having some difficulty as they are just drifting now, it's odd though, as the storm intensifies so should the wind power.

The Rieklings finish linking most of the shields together and put the raft in the water, it floats, somehow. They all hop on at the same time causing the raft to gather a bunch of water. I walk forward and test the raft myself, I get on and it doesn't sink. One of the Rieklings get on and it stays afloat. I get off and five Rieklings take my place, it stays. One more gets on, it sinks. It gets off and the other takes it's place, it floats.

"We got our team, go." The storm rages mercilessly, the ship swaying uncertainly, my Rieklings making in fast progress treading the water. Then I see a head bobbing behind the raft, is that... I look to my left and see the lone Riekling wasn't there. Of course. The members of the far ship fall over the side as the waves rock the wooden battlement. The sky darkens with the storms raging attacks of lightning and the sudden gusts of wind. Almost all the members of the ship were tossed overboard, oddly devoured by a yellow light that vanished with the sailors. My navy only had to knock the few remaining over the side of the ship and the ship was theirs with hardly any difficulty. The Rieklings cheer and steer the ship closer to shore despite the storm, however, being the first time on a ship they had plenty of difficulty.

When the ship gets close enough I climb aboard and search the cannon level. On the level there is food, supplies, harpoons, and a quite excessive cannon ball collection that makes slight sense for the six cannons.

"Great job boys! Now we have our two preliminaries set!" Now Solstheim is guaranteed to be mine...

~Solstheim - Skaal Village~

In Skaal Village a person stands by a table, mixing potions and infusing magical energy into a staff. The plain staff glows an icy blue, being raised off of the table. The magic user mumbles a few words to the staff, and it glows brighter, runes engraved into the handle, the head taking the shape of a halberd's. The caster wraps a navy blue strip of cloth around the point where steel meets wood.

He walks into the snow lathered environment outside the ruins and stabs the hilt of the spear into the snow, a beam of black energy rockets from the tip of the spear into the sky. An hour passes, then undead start lumbering from the forest, armored with steel and equipped with a variety of weapons. They charge forward only to stop in columns, when they are all filed in they kneel as one unit.

"I am Kyftar, your summoner. I have one request, then you all may return. I need to take over one establishment, maybe more if you feel up to it. You will receive plenty of food from the inhabitants and I will gain control of it, a win-win situation." Kyftar explains.

Beware Gujriyl, you may be my brother, but you will not have Solstheim.

A/N: It's a really short chapter to build up the plot, don't worry they will get longer as time progresses. These are two of the main groups fighting in this War, Lakrogim wants Solstheim to then progress to Skyrim, eventually all of Tamriel. Kyftar wants Solstheim to show his over-achiever of a brother that he can accomplish domination of territory. I'll update every Tuesday, or try to at least. If you have any tips, suggestions, questions, or want to tell me how I'm doing please type me up a review, and I'll continue updating this if you readers want to see more.

A Couple Name Pronunciations: Lakrogim (Lack-row-jim), Gujriyl (Guh-jer-e), and Kyftar (Kai-ef-tar).

Meanwhile, Keep Calm and Hop On ~ BrassHopper :)