Disclaimer: The story written below, is fan generated content, produced for the purposes of recreation. The Elder Scrolls series and all affiliated media are property of Bethesda softworks. Enjoy.
Cole
Chapter 1: Kodlack's Successor
"Cole, Cole, wake up you lazy good for nothing! It's morning!" Aela shouted as she rapped on my door. "Ok, ok, by the divines I'm up all ready quit it," I groan as I squirm out of bed. I stretch and spin my arms around to shake the sleep loose. I run my tongue over my teeth, they're all fuzzy, just like they are every morning when I wake up from a good night sleep, hmm a good night sleep, I had that last night, just like I had one the night before. I guess this is what it's like to be a warrior in peacetime.
Aela stopped knocking, I guess she left already. I sit up in the bed; huh I still call it the bed instead of my bed even though I've been sleeping here the past two months. It still feels like this is Kodlack's room, I still haven't gotten use to the fact that I'm in this position. I mean me, an Imperial, now not just a member but leader of The Companions the Nordiest group in all Skyrim. I look around the room. Cotton tapestries hang on the walls depicting battles fought long ago. A pine wardrobe stands in one corner, full of Kodlack's old clothes that I now wear. There's a table with some gold and few trinkets on it, and it's surrounded by two ornately carved wooden chairs that are worn with age. But what I like most about this room is its size; it's just large enough to give me some room to pace around when I'm thinking, but small enough to be snug and warm. Kodlack really made this space into a secure place, but it was his space I'm just taking it up. No matter how much time I spend in here I can't feel like it's my room. Maybe it's because Kodlack's spirit still echoes through the stone walls, maybe it's because I've yet to make my own mark, but regardless I just don't feel a sense of ownership here. Hmm, maybe I'm not meant too, one day I'll die and this room will pass on to whoever replaces me, and maybe they'll have the same problem. But enough pointless deep thought, I'm a warrior not a philosopher.
My feet haven't completely woken up yet. I stomp them a bit so that they get the message. Finally I'm up, I stretch my body out once more, galvanizing my muscles with the exercise, and I'm ready to conquer the day. I reach over to the nightstand next to me, and fish out my morning mouth potion, it's a little something Arcadia whipped up for me to help with that annoying fuzzy feeling on my teeth. I take a few sips, it tastes like milk, but it stings like alcohol, I rinse my mouth with it and spit it into the chamber pot, the fuzzy feeling has been washed off my teeth. I strip off my night clothes and armor myself with the wolf armor that has become my protection of choice in recent months. I really like the wolf motifs, I've always admired wolves even before I became a companion they have such comradery with each other and they take care of their own. Once I'm fully armored I open the bedroom door and head up to the mead hall.
Everyone's laughing and joking as they enjoy breakfast. Vilkas has bread in one hand and a cup of mead in the other; Farkas sits next him, ripping into a steak. Aela sits at the end of the table delicately savoring her chop of roast venison, which was a bit on the rare side, she ate as though she were a cross between a noblewoman of high breeding and a ferocious she-wolf.
"So nice of you to join us Legate Bacchus," Old Vignar sneers at me from the other end of the hall. He's still angry that I took the Imperial side in the Civil War, I've tried numerous times to get him to see my viewpoint but he just won't have it. "Vignar…" I pinch the bridge of my nose for a minute and think, "Look I'll debate with you later; right now I need breakfast." I plop down in one of the seats, "Tilma mead please!"
"Hahaha," Aela giggled.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
"The way you shouted at Tilma to bring you mead," she responded.
"So? You all shout at Tilma to bring you mead."
"Yes, but we always just say, TILMA MEAD! You squeaked a little please at the end."
"Did I?" I asked quizzical.
"You did, it's funny because little manners like that are near foreign to this hall."
"Well what can I say, I've lived in Skyrim most of my life, but I'm still an Imperial. Little manners like that are in my blood."
"Cole do you plan to train with Wuuthrad today?" Vilkas cut in.
"Uhh yeah, but first we need to get the business side of things sorted out, do we have any prospective contracts inbound?"
"Are you using big words so that I don't know what you're saying again?" Farkas interjected.
"No Farkas, he's just asking if we've got any jobs," Vilkas answered him.
"Oh, you could have just said so," Farkas said before going back to his steak.
Vilkas continued, "Anyway in answer to your question, yes, we have contracts coming in by the bucket load. Athis, Ria, and Torvar already picked some up and left."
"What are they on?"
"Just a few bandit raids, nothing they can't handle. I wouldn't let them have any of the extremely dangerous jobs."
"What do you mean extremely dangerous?"
"I mean the Civil War is over and Skyrim is still mad." Vilkas got up and went to one of the tables in the hall that was loaded with papers; he dropped them in front of me, "Look at this bounties for Giants, Dragons, necromancers, requests to clear out barrows of undead. Most of them don't even offer a reward that's sufficient for the amount of work that has to go into them."
"Huh…" I thought about the situation for a minute, "Let's start with the one's involving dragons."
"I figured you'd want to take care of those first. There's two of those, one at Bonestrewn Crest south of Windhelm, and another one that's wondering around Falkreath Hold."
"Have they been attacking anyone?"
"The bounty letter's say that the one in Falkreath has been devouring livestock, but the letter for the one in Bonestrewn Crest says that it's a "cause for concern" whatever that means."
"What I can take that to mean is it's not worth our time, a dragon can't be penalized for needing to fill its belly. And as long as the one at Bonestrewn Crest stays put, which it likely will, and people are smart enough to stay away, which they likely are, it shouldn't be a problem."
Aela jumped in, "How do you know the Dragon at Bonestrewn will stay where it is?"
"I've been to Bonestrewn Crest before there is a word wall there, for some reason Dragons have the instinctive need to guard those walls so they never leave them."
"That's fine but we can't let those winged lizards fly around making lunch of people's livelihoods whenever they please," Vilkas said.
"I guess you're right, I'll head out to Falkreath and see if I can have words with it."
"You intend to parlay with a dragon?" Aela asked.
"Yeah, I'm tired of constantly going through the mess of slaying them, and besides now that Alduin is gone they're free to think for themselves so odds are they can be reasoned with."
"And just how do you plan on making them listen to you?" Vilkas asked.
"Like this, FUS!" Vilkas was pushed back by the force of my shout, I held back quite a bit and barely put any breath into it, but it still made him stagger and it scattered some of the table setting.
"Oh, if you must use that awful voice take it outside where I won't have to clean up!" Tilma complained.
"Sorry Tilma it was just a little joke."
"And you couldn't have used a "joke" that didn't spill perfectly good mead all over the floor!" Vilkas said, as he pointed to how the floor was now covered in mead, and good pieces of fruit, bread, and cheese.
"Oh, now that is a pity, but you know what they say; no use crying over spilt mead."
"Ohhahaha hohaha ho," Aela was laughing uncontrollably, "I'm pretty sure they say that about spilt milk, ohahahaho."
"See Aela thinks it's funny," I point out.
"Yes well I don't, put em up Cole." Vilkas raised his fists into a boxing stance.
"Oh come on, can't it wait till after breakfast?"
"You just ruined breakfast."
"Ehhh, fine." I stood up and raised my gauntleted fists up to chest level. I got up and met Vilkas face to face.
Vilkas takes the first shot, and throws a left hook at me. I shift my shoulder just in time to block the blow with my shoulder plating. It's a strong punch but I've handled stronger. I throw a straight punch at his face, hoping to finish this in one blow, but he blocks it with his right, picks up his left again and delivers a hook to my gut. My armor protects me from wound but the force of the punch winds me. He delivers another blow straight across my jaw, I feel my teeth rattle. A normal man would be out cold at this point, but I've taken far too many hits in my life to go down like that. I stagger a few steps back, I can taste blood swishing around in my mouth, I swallow it, I don't want to spit my blood in the mead hall it's disrespectful.
I get back up. Vilkas comes charging forward, left fist ready for the final swing. I crouch down and sidestep to the right, his fist misses me by a hair, I'm right inside his guard, the opening could not be more clear, I clench my fist, spring straight up and "WHAM" a beautiful uppercut connected with his chin. "CRUNCH, CRACK." Vilkas is on his back. And I'm standing. "I yield," Vilkas groaned.
"Haha," I laugh through my clunked teeth, "let that be a reminder as to who's in charge here." I extend a hand to Vilkas which he humbly accepts. "Are you and I square now Vilkas?"
"Mmm," he grunts. I swing his arm over my neck and brace him up. "Alright let's head over to the temple. You knocked my teeth around and I'm pretty sure your chin is in splinters." Vilkas and I walk out of Jorvaskr's front door.
It's a beautiful day in Whiterun, the sun is shining and the clouds are nice and fluffy. And the usual Skyrim chill was in a more mild state making it a pleasantly cool temperature for any race. "You can let me go, you broke my chin not my legs," Vilkas said as he pulled away from me. "Suit yourself," I glance at Vilkas broken chin it's starting to swell up pretty bad. "We better get that fixed before it gets infected." We make our way down the steps stone steps into the main hub of the Wind District, it's a business day so it's particular crowded with people going up and down from Dragonsreach to the Plains District. Fortunately it's just up ahead. We swerve our way through the crowd, everyone's so busy they don't pay us any mind. "Cole, Cole!" came an old women's voice. I turn my head to see Fralia Gray-Mane, she looked winded and worried. "Fralia whas da matter?" My speech is slightly garbled by my misplaced teeth and now swelling gums.
"What happened to your teeth? Never mind, I just got a letter back from Thorald," she said.
"Whas he say?"
The poor old women bemoaned, "He says he's still afraid for his life and he can't come home."
"Why? Doeshn't he know zat I'm teh Legate of Whiterun now? I can protect him from any Imperial persecutors here, and grant him full amneshty for war crimes."
"It's not the Imperials he's afraid of, it's the Thalmor."
"Damn it, dats right. Dose damned elves can't let anyshing go."
"Hehehe," Vilkas was chuckling.
"Was so funny?"
"You sound ridiculous," Vilkas laughed, clearly the effort hurt his jaw but he didn't care.
"Thorald Gray-Mane's life ish in danger and you're making jokesh abut my shpeech?"
"Hahaha, stop talking please, your killing me now worse then you were back at Jorvaskr a minute ago," he gripped his sides as he laughed.
"Can we dishcuss this inside da temple?" I ask Fralia.
"I'd rather we talk about this in the privacy of my own home, but clearly you need the healing and this can't wait, so yes."
We walk into the temple, Vilkas, Fralia, and I. It's empty apart from Danica Pure-Spring, who greets us warmly. "Hello everyone, oh Cole, Vilkas what have you two done to yourselves?"
"Jusht a friendly vawl Danica, can fixssh us?"
"Huh?" She asks, confused and unable to understand what I'm saying.
Vilkas speaks up, "It was just friendly brawl Danica, can you heal us?"
"Have a seat," she ordered.
We did as we were bid. I sat on the one of the stone slabs intended for sick and wounded and Fralia sat next to me. Vilkas took the one opposite me at the other end of the small temple. Danica tended to Vilkas first. She put her hand on his chin and commenced the healing spell, her hands lit up with holy light. In the meantime I continued speaking to Fralia, "tell me whas happening."
"The last time I was able to get a letter through to him, I told him it was safe to come home, now that you were in charge of the legion in Whiterun. But when he wrote back he told me that even if the legion didn't think he was important anymore, he was still being chased by the Thalmor. For some reason they just won't leave him alone, and they're hunting him relentlessly. If he were to come to Whiterun they would just follow him here."
Those damned elves, they never let anything go. If I wasn't a Legate they'd be sending assassins after me too. What can I do though? The Thalmor are probably the most evil combination of greed and ferocity one could possibly imagine. Each one of them is so hypnotized by their doctrine that they are beyond being able to be reasoned with. The level power they have politically, economically, and militarily is beyond anything the world has ever seen before. No one should have the level of power that they do, there's too much room for abuse, and abuse it they most certainly do. Forget the way they banned the worship of Talos, numerous atrocities have been enacted by the Thalmor that have gone completely unnoticed, both in Skyrim, and the rest of Tamriel. Kidnapping's and mysterious disappearances in the middle of the night, the cruelty with which they've tortured their captives even when they knew full well that who they were torturing knew absolutely nothing, and worst of all the things they did to my friend Martyroun. I still shudder every time I think about what she told me they did to her on the Summerset Isles, it was a miracle she survived.
"What am I to do Cole?" Fralia asked, clearly begging for my help.
Danica came over to me and began casting the restoration magic. My jaw was enveloped in warm golden holy light. I could feel my gums shrinking back down, and my teeth shifting back into place. Not only were they healing they, they were strengthening. I could feel the blood rushing through the veins of my gums thickening them, the teeth themselves were growing just a bit and expanding around the base. Magic truly is an amazing thing, a great gift to all, I didn't always think so, but Martyroun taught me otherwise. And the Thalmor, they abuse this gift, they pervert it and use it to cause unimaginable suffering. I'd made up my mind on what needed to be done. "Don't worry Fralia I'll take care of everything I promise."
I stand up and bid Vilkas to come with me back to Jorvaskr. It was a short walk back to the mead hall, but a tense one. I was about to make a very serious, very dangerous announcement, so I could help but shake a little bit. When we reached the doors of Jorvaskr, I stopped and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say. I opened the doors and walked in, Vilkas following. Everyone was where we had left them. I stood tall and proud and made my announcement, "Everyone I've made a decision that's going to change everything around here so listen up!" Everyone straightened up a bit, they could tell what I was about to say was important.
I said it loud and proud, "We are going to war against the Thalmor!"
A/N: Please leave reviews they really encourage me to keep working. Also if I made any mistakes grammatically, or with the first person please let me know.