A/N: "War of the Great Wind". Lofty title. Essentially this is a story set during the Great War (4E 171-4), in that mystical land known as the Akavir. For those who don't know, Akavir is basically TES' version of...in fact, I'll let Donald Trump explain: watch?v=RDrfE9I8_hs. In any case, this continent has had a lot of influence on Tamriel ( has a great article on it as well as an anthology of in-game literature on the place, if you're that keen), from the Blades to the Dovahkiin, so I figure it's time we examine a story about Akavir itself.

I should stipulate: I made this up. Completely. Like, I used the lore available about Akavir, so it's as lore-friendly as it can be, but let me be clear that it is completely fictional (I mean yes TES is fictional too...non-canon then). Don't be thinking this is legit and like TES VI will hold any bearing to this.

This is the introduction, where we mention very little of Akavir. If you don't like intros, please wait for the first chapter (expect v. soon), but until then, get up off your arse, sit back down in the chair you just got up from, and read it anyway because frankly it's hilarious.

Alright, if we're all happy, let's get this show on the road.

Sofie was angry. She had been working up the courage to ask out the cute Argonian working at the docks for nearly two months. Despite all her friends warning her off from the man, all the bullies calling her a "lizard lover", despite the fact he smelled of frost tuna, she had harboured a love for him like no other could no (she was 13 after all), and he had the gall to reject her.

"I just…don't think it'd be right."

"Mama won't mind! She's married to a Redguard, and she's banished residents for racism. I mean, my mama is the reason you can actually come into the city now!"

"No, it's not that. It's the…class issue. You're the Countess' daughter, I'm a fisherboy. It's not right for us to mix."

"This isn't the Aldmeri Dominion Icefisher! Everyone can love and marry whomever they please. Come on, you know we'd be great together."

All of this begging to no avail. She was left rejected and heartbroken. Sofie marched into Hjerim and slammed the door. Her mother was sat by the fire in some ragged robes, reading aloud a book on Dwemer history to Sparkly, her "pet" Falmer. She looked up to see her daughter's tear-logged face and stopped.

"Honey, what happ-where have you been? It's past eleven."

"I was at the dock…fucking lizards."

"Sofie!"

"Oh big deal, I called them lizards. It's what they are. Scaly, slimy liz-"

"Alright, let's cut the racism a minute. What happened?"

"Okay…don't be angry but I went down to the docks to ask out Icefisher and he rejected me. Me! The Dovahkiin's daughter, the Countess of Windhelm's daughter, the Justiciar of Skyrim's daughter! The richest girl in Tamriel!"

"Icefisher? You mean the pink-skinned Argonian? Works with Rikke?"

"Yes! And he said no."

"Sweetie…"

"He said it was because I'm from a higher class than him, like that matters. I mean who cares about classes anymore?"

"Sofie, darling…"

"I mean dad used to be a beggar, and you married him, even after you became Justiciar. And Lady Elisif married a barkeep! No…no, he must just think I'm ugly."

"Sofie, Icefisher…"

"Is it because I don't have boobs yet? They're gonna come. I mean look at yours. Just because that bitch Relmyna got hers early doesn't mean all of the girls in town apart from her don't exist. You know I bet that's why, he's with her. I'm going to kill that stupid red-eyed little-"

"Honey, Icefisher is gay. He's with Harald Sweynsson."

"Harald…as in my best friend Harald?"

"Yes," her mother responded, not controlling her laughter any longer. "His mother told me about a month ago".

"Oh my god…"

"That's so cute! You fell in love with an Argonian but he already had a boyfriend!" She began her signature laugh, that of a Wild Boar, and shot mead through her nose all over Sparky. He snarled and got up from the chair.

"It's not funny mama! And it's not cute, it's horrible. I'm so embarrassed."

"Sofie, sweetheart, this is not embarrassing. You aren't old enough to know true embarrassment."

"Don't try and lecture me, mama. You're Elsa Peytiiz, Countess of Windhelm, Justiciar of Free Skyrim, the richest person alive, and the Dragonborn. You're so powerful that you got to pick your own surname and no-one complains. What could ever have embarrassed you?"

"What about getting caught in bed with an Acolyte of Stendarr?"

"What?"

Elsa grinned. She had never told this to anyone, even though it was the most important thing that had ever happened to her.

"Okay," she grinned, motioning Sofie to the chair opposite, "so I was born on Solstheim, in a tiny little village in the Mountains. The only reason this village existed was to service the nearby Hall of the Vigilants of Stendarr. Now Solstheim is conservative enough, but add the bloody Vigilantes and you get something that Viola Giordano would call stuffy."

"I was never a good child. I think the only time I ever prayed was to a Talos shrine after I found out it was illegal. I used to steal stuff, get drunk, and get…acquainted with the local men and women of the village."

"Ew! Why?"

"Hey, you have three pets, mountains of books and thousands of Krone to spend. I couldn't read, no one could, and we didn't even have enough money for furniture. And, well, if there aren't any chairs to sit on, I may as well sit on a-"

"Mama no! That's disgusting."

"Alright, alright. So anyway, I was with my friend Hilda, and we were playing truth or dare. And Hilda was a bit of a smartarse, so she goes 'I dare you to surprise me.' I thought about it for a moment, and then the idea came to me: defile a man of the gods."

"I go to her 'Hold my beer, watch this,' and lead her to the Vigilantes hall and spy this young Acolyte, no more than 15. I go over and work my magic, and it doesn't take long before he's mine. We go to the stable and start…doing the bidding of Lady Dibella"

"Oh my god…part of me is grossed out but another part of me is impressed."

"You haven't heard the punchline yet: this boy had taken his previous vow of celibacy seriously, and as a result it wasn't exactly a long drawn out affair. Plus he was loud, louder than me by a long way, which attracted attention. The shepherd came in, despite Hilda's best efforts to stop him, and was so shocked to see a priest with a believer down on her knees that he dropped his torch, which promptly burned the stable down. I've got the scars to prove it."

Elsa told all this to her adopted progeny with glee and sparkle, and she listened intently with awe. Her mother had always been a magical character, positive and full of life, but something like this, which would have left most Nords contemplating suicide with shame, left her stronger and happier, something which amazed Sofie.

"So what happened?"

"Well, he was banished from the order, permanently. But I think he did okay in the end, moved to Chorrol as a bookshop owner. I was sentenced to death for adultery, but I was given the option of permanent banishment from the town, which I took. So, the following day, Hilda (she came with me because she thought it was her fault) and I said our goodbyes, and left for Vvardenfell. Now, that was embarrassing."

Sofie laughed, "Yeah, mama. That's actually made me feel a lot better. Hey, can you tell me about you and Hilda in Vvardenfell? That must have been so cool!"

"Soph, Vvardenfell is a story for when you're older. It's a bit too…graphic for you."

"And that story wasn't? Come on mama, please?"

"No, not until you're an adult. I'll tell you what, I'll tell you a much better story. You get ready for bed and then come back here."

Sofie walked out of her room in her bedclothes back to the fireplace. Her mother had two frosted cups with white and gold liquid. She offered her daughter a glass. Sofie sat down and smelled the drink.

"Alcohol? You're letting me drink?"

"Better now than later. I don't want Brunwulf trying to harden you up with Black Briar Reserve. Try it, it's cream, homemade spiced mead, and some floral hints. The 'White Gold Tower'."

Sofie sipped, and coughed as is custom with new drinkers. After a moment of spluttering, she smiled.

"I like this."

"Don't like it too much, it's got a kick. Now, the story. Ever heard of Akavir?"

"Yeah. Uncle Esbern talks about it all the time."

"I know…but not properly. He only knows about Akavir of the olden days. Akavir still exists, and in fact had a revolution just recently."

"Like the Liberation War?"

Elsa laughed and sipped her cream cocktail, "In a manner of speaking. This war was bigger though, much bigger, and much more exciting. They call it the War of the Great Wind, because of…well that would spoil the end, but this war makes the Liberation War look like a minor skirmish."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, the losses we sustained were peanuts compared to the dead in Akavir. But, our story doesn't start there. Our story starts in Hammerfell, at Port Mashriq, with a young, dashing corsair called Samatar."

The beginning of something special, hopefully. Please favourite and follow and all that good stuff. - C.A.D.