Skyrim: Dragonborn Returns
4E 218, 17th of Morning's Star
Town of Helgen, Province of Skyrim
Bayleon Charteris sat at the desk he had taken over for himself at the top of the Helgen Keep. The town had remained rather small since it's decimation at the hands of the Dragon Alduin but it was substantial enough to support at least a small percentage of his army. The townsfolk were not warriors and they had no Hold Guards left in Falkreath as the rest of them had been hunted down and slaughtered.
Now, Helgen was a staging ground for Charteris' war effort. The perfect crossroad. To the East, the Pale, the West, the Reach, and to the north, Whiterun. Charteris surmised that the conquering of Whiterun would be the most difficult and therefore top priority.
The map of Skyrim was laid out across his oak table, the large portion of the Falkreath hold that had been taken was already outlined by dark ink with small Imperial banners representing troop movement. Small Stormcloak banners represented the movement in the north reported by his spies in Solitude and Winterhold.
There was a knock at the door. Bayleon's concentration was frustratingly shattered. "Come in." he said, rather annoyed by the interruption.
In came a courier holding a scroll that was bound tightly by a golden ribbon. Bayleon knew what that meant. Without a word, he nodded and took the scroll. The courier promptly left and shut the door as quietly as possible.
Bayleon took a moment to examine the scroll. Fine parchment, a golden ribbon. Only a scroll sent by a member of the Aldmeri Dominion would be bound by a gold ribbon. He opened the scroll and read it.
General Charteris,
You are hereby summoned on this day, 15th of Morning's Star, 218th year of the Fourth Era to appear before a representative of the Aldmeri Dominion and the Gilded Armies in Bruma in one fortnight's time to discuss the assistance and military access of and to Commander Velos Straetandil. This is not an inquiry but an order of the utmost importance. Failure to appear at this meeting is not an option.
Deepest respects,
Ondolemar, Head of the Justiciars
Bayleon stared at the words. The Aldmeri want to negotiate military assistance for the invasion of Skyrim. He knew how they operated, he spent most of his tenure as an Imperial soldier being ordered around by members of the Thalmor. He knew that if they helped him seize Skyrim, they'd demand it be handed over to them as recompense. A new strategy was needed to take on the Thalmor.
Bayleon just didn't know what that strategy was.
/
4E 218, 19th of Morning's Star
Whiterun Hold, Province of Skyrim
Jarl Frothar had become increasingly concerned with the growing reports of Imperial activity. The largest of which being an entire town's worth of people saying Falkreath and Helgen had been conquered by an Imperial force. In response, Frothar organized a small army of Hold guards and soldiers of the Army of Skyrim to guard the narrow pass between Helgen and Whiterun.
If the reports were to be believed, the Imperials were 12,000 men strong. He and his force were a mere 954, the balance of power was not on their side. But strategy was. Archers had been placed all along the dense woods surrounding the only trodden path in hopes of thinning out the Imperial Legion prior to them even reaching Riverwood. Other traps had been set along the way.
Frothar was aware that he wasn't experienced in the art of guerilla tactics but Commander Sinmir and Lieutenant Soljar; the commanding officer of the Army's forces in Whiterun had some experience between them.
Soljar was relatively young, he'd been born during the Civil War in Windhelm and orphaned as a result of the War. He joined the Army after their victory over the Empire and rose through the ranks to lieutenant and then was assigned by Galmar Stone-Fist as leader of their forces based in Whiterun.
Frothar's forces had gathered and made camp a few miles outside of the walls. They had only a few cavalry men and one catapult, the rest were infantry.
Frothar entered his command tent and there, sitting in the corner reading, was his half-brother Nelkir. Nelkir had never had a taste for battle but it was an unusual time and he'd personally volunteered to fight and advise his brother in the battle to come.
Frothar sat down next to him, Nelkir took notice of his presence as he looked up from his book. "Jarl, how goes it?"
Frothar replied simply. "As well as can be expected. What news?"
Nelkir put the book down and got up. "Scouting report says the Imperials have yet to move from Helgen. I advise possibly changing positions. If we take the fight to them, then we might have a clearer advantage than waiting for them to make the first move."
Frothar shook his head. "I cannot risk it, we have to little men for that kind of assault."
Nelkir considered Frothar's words. "I see."
Frothar put a hand on Nelkir's shoulder. "You know why I ask your advice? Because your word is the only one I've ever trusted. Since Father left us, and then Proventus, a great deal of responsibility has been placed on our shoulders."
Nelkir nodded. "And as usual, Dagny ran from hers."
Frothar realized, Dagny was with her husband in the Falkreath Hold and subsequently closer to the Imperial forces. But he didn't have time to worry about her.
"Right." he said. "You know I would lay down my life in defense of Skyrim, but I'd also lay it down for you."
For the first time in what seemed like years, Nelkir smiled and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You have my word, brother. Whiterun will not fall."
/
4E 218, 19th of Morning's Star
Imperial Controlled Falkreath Hold, Province of Skyrim
"So." Jodrik said finally after a long, drawn out silence. "You want me to join a war I won 17 years ago?"
Istanir grimaced at the reality as well as the irony of his situation and the possible task of convincing this man of rejoining the Army of Skyrim.
"I don't expect you to be eager, but we're desperate and underprepared for the kind of threat Skyrim is faced with. If your old friends are to be believed, we need someone like you."
Jodrik turned to look at the young man. "Did they tell you who I really am?"
Istanir's expression was blank. Jodrik chuckled. "Guess not."
He turned towards the treeline and dug his heels into the dirt. "Fus…"
"What in the Eig-?"
"Ro dah!" Jodrik shouted and a shockwave emitted from his mouth and trees in front of him snapped in half like twigs and the dirt and roots unturned and blew in several different directions.
Istanir covered his ear but he wasn't quick enough. The force from Jodrik's shout popped his ears and gave them a high pitched ringing.
Jodrik laughed. "That was about half effort."
Istanir was now sitting on the ground, groaning and holding his ears. Jodrik knelt in front of him, still smiling. "You need help? Alright. I'll do it. But I need to retrieve some things first."
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4E 218, 21st of Morning's Star
Abandoned Subterranean Prison, Rift
Inside their rather large but still confined cell, the two Khajiit cousins tried to entertain themselves in any way they could. The older one practiced his spells while the younger one clambered around on the ceiling, digging his prosthetic claws into the stone. His real claws had been taken off when he was first captured by Rift Hold guards for breaking into some fancy house owned by the Black-Briars.
It was no big deal, he thought. Despite this, he and his accomplice; J'zargo were subsequently locked up in an abandoned prison and forgotten about.
"Maven is a bitch." Suban Sunji muttered as he hung upside down from the ceiling.
J'zargo was sitting cross legged on the stone floor with his feline eyes closed, trying desperately to ignore Suban's antics. Finally, he gave in and replied.
"J'zargo thinks there were better ways of infiltration other than the front door in the middle of the day, cousin."
Suban frowned. "Suban thinks J'zargo should go eat his tail." he said, mocking his cousin's tendency to talk in the third person.
Suddenly, there was a loud clanging noise as metal was being blasted apart by something. The stone wall behind J'zargo and Suban collapsed and two men were standing on the outside. One was older and the other was extremely young and looked like he'd seen a ghost, or someone yelling at a wall and it falling down.
"I'll never get used to that." the young man said.
J'zargo recognized the face of an old friend. It was the stubborn Nord from his time in the College. What was his name again?
"J'zargo." the old friend said.
Suban dropped down from the ceiling. "Who is this oaf, cousin?"
The name finally clicked. "Jodrik from J'zargo's youth, cousin." J'zargo turned to Jodrik and Istanir. "It is good to see a friendly face."
Jodrik and J'zargo shook hands. "Likewise. Look, there isn't much time. I need to call a few fifteen year old favors from you."
J'zargo's brow raised, as did his whiskers. "What kind of favor?"
Jodrik frowned. "The Empire wants Skyrim back, we're going to stop them. Your cousin can tag along."
Suban crossed his arms. "I do not play tag. I alway get caught."
J'zargo chuckled. "And that; Suban, is why you and J'zargo are in this dungeon. Where to next, Jodrik?"
Jodrik smiled. "Rorikstead. Through Imperial territory."
/
4E 218, 24th of Morning's Star
Hjaalmarch Hold, Province of Skyrim
For the first time in ten days, Hadvar awoke. The fall into the river from the walls of Solitude left him unconscious. He and an equally unconscious Faendal floated downstream into Hjaalmarch and were apparently fished out by an old woman who was once a student at the College of Winterhold named Brelyna. She studied and practically lived the School of Destruction but after a traumatic event, abandoned it and moved to Restoration. She was a Dark Elf and apparently a member of the House Telvanni.
Hadvar sat up in the rough bed and his nose was assaulted by the smell of herbs that had been blended together. Separately, they smelled nice, but together were utterly horrible. Brelyna sat in the corner, humming to herself.
"Good morning." She said. "Nice to see you're finally up."
Hadvar groaned as he threw his legs of the bed in an attempt to stand. He was groggy and nearly every joint popped, but he could stand.
"Where am I?"
Brelyna smiled. "My home in Hjaalmarch near Solitude. It is a little shabby but it ought to be comfortable enough for your recovery."
"Recovery?"
"Oh, you still have a lot of internal bleeding, friend. Not as a bad as the other man you were with but…"
Hadvar cut her off. "Other man?"
"The Wood Elf, he's outside."
Hadvar looked out one of the windows to see Faendal sitting on a log staring out across the marchlands. He could only see Faendal's backside, but his body language was sullen and sad. Hadvar went out and sat beside him. He didn't even look up.
"Is is over?" Faendal said after several seconds.
"What do you mean?" Hadvar replied
"All of this. It has to be."
"What are you rambling on about?"
Faendal looked down at his legs, which were sprawled out in front of him. "According to Brelyna, not only do I have serious internal wounds, but it's unlikely my legs will ever work again."
"You're-?"
"Paralyzed, crushed my spine in the fall. Gods, I am so stupid."
"We had no other choice."
"Imprisonment and chance of escape or permanent inability to walk for the rest of my life? I should never have jumped. At least you turned out fine." he said in a grave tone.
Hadvar was taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Faendal looked at him with a look that could've paralyzed Hadvar as well. "Just go. Get healed and rejoin the fight. I'm staying."
Hadvar hesitated, but in the end he got up from the log and walked back to the cabin. Suddenly, Faendal's voice rang out again.
"I lied to you in Solitude by the way."
Hadvar turned back but didn't say anything.
Faendal continued. "I guess I was lying to myself really. Didn't truly want to hear myself say it out loud but… It was lying all the same."
"What did you lie about?"
"About Gerdur and Sigrid, Frodnar and Dorthe… They didn't go to Whiterun."
Now Hadvar was invested. "Where then?"
"...They were strung up with Hod and Alvor."
Hadvar didn't reply, somehow he expected Faendal to say something like that. He was stricken with grief and was rambling. But Hadvar had other things to worry about. He walked back inside the cabin to meet Brelyna again.
She smiled at him sympathetically as she stirred a pot of stew over an open fire. "The realization is difficult, but he will come around."
Hadvar sat back down on the bed he'd woken up in. "Thank you, for everything. But I must be leaving soon."
Brelyna again looked from the stew to Hadvar. "I wouldn't advise it, but you are not a prisoner. You may go if you wish, but try to fall into any more rivers." she said with a smile.
Hadvar smiled too. "Take care of him."
"He is Mer like me. I will care for him like a brother. But, where will you go?"
Hadvar thought a moment. "I am needed elsewhere."
