Chapter 10

A Battle for Whiterun

It was a grisly scene, legions of soldiers colliding with one another upon the fields of the Whiterun Hold. Imperial soldiers were gaining the advantage in a tenacious battle with the Stormcloaks. "Retreat back to camp!" An officer yelled at the highest point of his lungs, the wave of blue turning to spare themselves. Galmar Stone-Fist, the relentless Nord wielding a blood stained, iron battleaxe, stood solid like his namesake from his post in the military camp just outside the field of battle. Their endeavor to capture the city of Whiterun was taking a turn for the worst.

Looking over the remaining troops, he might sigh, a large portion of them were injured or new recruits, who hadn't been to long off the ranch, or out the bearings of youth for some.

"Stand strong! We will provide support for the withdrawing bands then we will head back to Windhelm..." Galmar trailed off as he and the other Stormcloaks viewed a noiseless blue-armored companion charge through his retreating brethren.

"What's the matter with you?!" Some Nord yelled as every living soul viewed their sprinting ally draw an unrecognizable short sword, the weapon's shape and length foreign to any work or design forged in Skyrim. "He's brave or stupid whoever he is!" Galmar called, the advancing male pulling off his helmet to show his face to the Imperials and reveal his identity to the comrades who gazed at him from behind. "It's the Unblooded Redguard!" Everyone in the camp yelled with a restored spirit, every last one of them getting their weapons and taking off after him into combat, to win or die in glorious combat.

His feet carried him faster than any of his allies, the limbs experienced from running through the coarse sand of the deserts of Hammerfell. The first Imperial soldier who met him raised a shield as he saw the Redguard charging toward him as if he meant to run through him. Planting a foot on the front of the shield, the Dragonborn would launch himself into the air, his favored short sword held out parallel to his side as he roared.

Other Imperial soldiers were soon transfixed with fear, as the Redguard Stormcloak seemed to fly through the air in slow motion. Bringing his sword down with a heavy swing, the short blade might slice through an exposed neck. Crimson blood sprayed Damos, coating him with the thing red liquid before he would hold his ground with another pair of Imperials.

Posted on his front, the first soldier would lock swords with the Stormcloak until the Dragonborn buried his blade in his enemy's shoulder, slicing even deeper as he forcefully pulled it from the Imperial's shoulder. This fluidly worked into an elbow thrust that struck the second soldier behind him in the chin.

Sweeping with his left leg, the Redguard would trip the same soldier. Flipping the blade in his hands, he would stab the one that had fallen through the chest before continuing with his comrades with Galmar in the lead as the wave of blue might slam into a dispersed variant of the once organized force that protected the city. Left and right, the Stormcloaks slew two's and three's of the opposing Legion soldiers. As he watched his troops gain the upper hand for the first time, Galmar Stone-Fist would chuckle as he shouted through the heat of battle. "Unblooded! Move through the fight and lead the troops into the city! But do what you have to to get rid of those catapults first!"

Nodding back, the intended receiver might shout and point with his sword, telling his comrades to make their way for the drawbridge. Roaring along, the Stormcloak army might rush ahead gradually, slaying any who tried to stand in their way.

For some time, it seemed that all would go well but from inside the outer wall came a volley of flaming boulders, tossed by the group of catapults Galmar had told Damos to get rid of. "Take cover!" A voice called although it was drowned out by the sound of stone crashing into earth as one of the inflamed boulders landed in the middle of the advancing army, slaying both Stormcloak and Imperial soldiers. In every direction, the giant spheres of flame killed any who dared to meet them while setting fire to others.

Growling to himself, the Redguard's anger would spike his lycanthropic abilities ever so slightly, but he held on, barely keeping a stable condition. Now stooping over in an effort to not shift in this risky area, the male may feel the consoling hand of somebody grace his back as a familiar voice filled his ears.

"Are you okay?!"

Turning, the Dragonborn may rest his eyes upon Ralof, the golden-haired Nord clasping hands with his companion as he encouraged the other to his feet.

"Yes...just a little weary..."

"Well, with all things considered, I can't have my friend slain because he being tired! Come then, whoever slaughters more Imperials gets a free bottle of Black-Briar Reserve!" Swinging his long sword, the Nord moved energetically, killing two Legion officers right off the back, his healthy voice blasting over the clamor of fight as he laughed with the promise of mead on the wind after the battle.

Shaking his head, the Dragonborn spun his short sword in his hand, eying three more enemy soldiers before he began to defend himself. With his empty hand, the Redguard would firmly grasp the arm of one of Imperials as the latter attempted to cut him down with a mace. Relieving the weapon from the man's grip, Damos would use the heavy mace to crush the bones of its owner's arm before he might slay he might slay the same soldier with his sword with a quick flick of his blade.

Blocking the other two's incoming attacks, he would knock one of their swords away, hitting thrice up the man's legs before slamming the mace hard across the other soldier's face. With one dead and the other two crippled, the Redguard would proceed.

"I'll have to get rid of those catapults fast!" He spoke to himself, his eyes glowing faintly red as the male's pupils turned to vertical slits. Groaning in pain, the Dragonborn could feel his canines growing to a long point, his nails changing into claws until a familiar and soothing voice filled his head.

Keep yourself calm, my child, this new "thing" inside of you is unlike anything I have seen before in the mortal plane. Azura's tone was full of worry. But you have to keep moving to avoid your death!

Nodding, the Redguard would use the momentary influence of his inner wolf to speedily move across the battlefield. Using his new found burst of adrenaline, Damos dodged through and cut down enemy troops. Covered in blood, his lust for death would finally surface as he slew all who worked opposite of him. Just as his sword was to take its hundredth victim, the male pulled himself away from participating in the game that he and Ralof had started, deciding to slay only when it was needed.

As he reached the outer wall, he would place an ear to the cold stone, clearly hearing the "twang" of ropes, and the lurch of a catapult as it let loose another boulder.

"Feim...Zii Gron!"

The Become Ethereal shout worked fine enough, the male moving slowly through the wall before he appeared on the other side unscathed. But even with his improvised method, he was still detected by a few Legion soldiers, who in turn alerted their comrades before they all moved in on the Unblooded Stormcloak.

Sheathing his short sword, the Dragonborn would charge two spells, one in either hand. Casting Phantom Image, a perfect spectral replica would appear before them as he might cast the next quickly.

By itself, Feint Nemesis did nothing. When used in conjunction with a Phantom Image, the second spell would take effect. Growing to the size of a giant, the ghostly clone might scare all of the soldiers away, although the effect wasn't permanent, it did give a few moments to create a new strategy.

Using them wisely, the Redguard look around before smiling at a group of simple, yet decorative clay vessels, all of which were filled with thick, black, and highly flammable oil. Taking several of the oil filled pots, he would throw them against the catapults, until they were nearly covered completely in the black ooze. Fire was all that was needed, and as he looked for a torch, the male was interrupted by the returning guards, deflecting multiple attacks that inflicted many injuries from the ones he could not.

"Damn!"

Looking to his right to the catapults, he would duck and lunge, sheathing his sword once again before holding both palms out in front of him, casting Flames to alight the catapults. As he was thrown back from an explosion caused by the amount of oil, Damos would seize his wits and retreat. Moving further away from the soldiers who now chased him, the male could see his own comrades nearing the drawbridge of the city as he had instructed. Biting his lip, he would shout.

"Wuld Nah Kest!" His shout carried him the remainder of the way to the raising chains of the structure, his blade cutting through the entwined metal rings that held onto the counter weights. As the heavy weights slammed into the ground, so did the large wood drawbridge, the large oaken planks that it was made of suddenly trampled by hundreds of Stormcloak soldiers as they rushed the city. Jumping from his perch above the site, the large formed Redguard would be joined up by the general, Galmar Stone-Fist.

"You've done well for us this day!" The old Nord yelled, advancing with his troops.

Before he could continue on however, the Dragonborn was grabbed by the golden-haired Nord, Ralof, the latter beginning to speak.

"Is it safe to say that you are a demon?! I saw you on the field of war, no less than a hundred soldiers fell to that razor sharp sword! Where did you get that weapon?! It is unlike anything I've ever seen!" Eying a bit of shrapnel that tormented the Redguard's back, Ralof might pull it free, watching as the wound disappeared in a matter of seconds.

"Uh...Hammerfell! The blade was forged in my homeland!" Damos chuckled nervously.

"Come Ralof, I might have you at my side as we surge the city, provided that you want us to proceed our game?"

Overlooking the marvel he had viewed before him, the rather faint Nord may grin and nod, yelling in his fervor. "Well...what are we holding up for?!" Patting his companion greatly on the back, the Nord might surge into fight emulated by the cool developments of Damos.

…

Dragonsreach stood proudly in spite of the bedlam that went on down in the city it stood above. Left and right the remnant of the city guards and Imperial Legion fighters were slain by the advancing Stormcloaks, making the way for the Unblooded Redguard, Galmar Stone-Fist, and Ralof. Ascending the steps of the large tower.

"I suppose you've earned the privilege of challenging Balgruuf in battle! Do you acknowledge this honor...?" Silent, the Dragonborn would just nod. "Exceptional, now since there are bound to be some guards posted between us and the Jarl, me and Ralof will..."

"Stand behind me and let me take care of the matter!" Damos finished. His words were absolute, and even the Stormcloak General didn't dare to go against them, for fear that the male before him would turn from battle.

"Fine, but we will provide assistance if someone dares interrupt the fight, or take you from behind while you are not looking..."

Moving forward, the heavy set Redguard would pause at the large double doors of the famed castle which was built to capture a dragon. Squeezing the grip of his short sword, the male would roar, kicking the door with his feet as he shouted. "Balgruuf!"

Before them stood the Jarl of Whiterun, adorned in his special armor of plated steel. A steel blade glinted in his hand, much longer than the simple sword the Dragonborn sported. Next to him stood Irileth, the Dunmer steadying herself, and the three guards under her command in front of them.

"Ulfric Stormcloak does not face me himself! Expected from the coward, but you, the Dragonborn to fall under the orders of such a man?! You couldn't even sum up the disappointment I hold for you now..."

"I do not wish for your favor anymore!" Damos returned, pointing with his sword.

"Why?! As you bend to the will of Ulfric Stormcloak, my troops regroup in this very castle!"

"Then I must defeat you sooner than I expected!"

On the last word, the male would charge forward, running into the trio of guards with nothing but his short sword to protect himself, although he wouldn't need it. Seeing him advancing, the three guards would raise their shields, only for him to use it as a medium to launch him over them. Roaring with anger, the Redguard stormed ahead to match Irileth, the Dark Elf defending her old friend as she and the Dragonborn locked swords. Galmar and Ralof made quick work of the three guards, the latter having turned to watch their enemy fly through the air with use of their defense.

"You've turned from the affairs of the Dragonborn to bend to the heel of the Stormcloak Rebellion?! Was the endeavor we faced together nothing to you...!" Irileth shouted, swinging her sword in wide arcs as she spun to give it more slashing power. Taking hold of her forearm, the male might headbutt her, using the grip to fling her over his shoulder.

"It is the only reason I choose to spare your life! Do not move, for you are out of chances!"

Looking forward, Damos would catch the heavy blow of a balled fist rock against his cheek. Reeling back, Balgruuf would take the advantage, lunging forward and swinging his sword to knock the Redguard's from his hand. Coming back from the daze of the blow, the latter might duck the arcing blade, rolling away and over his blade before he was on his feet: sword clutched in hand. "Tell me, when did you decide to bend for General Tullius and the Imperial Legion...?"

"Never have I done such a thing! The only reason I sided with them was to protect my people! You have no idea how it is to make decisions that could change so many's lives forever!"

"On the contrary! I spent months leading an entire army of warriors from their imprisonment back in my home province of Hammerfell. We were forced to bend to the will of our masters, who now stand dead for placing foot upon neck! Eleven years I was forced to serve the will of someone else, and now you deny that you do the same, although it may not seem like it, but this is the same! A king bows to someone else!"

His speech sent Balgruuf into a fit of rage, the Nord rushing ahead, swinging his sword while drawing a dagger to dual-wield. Scoffing, Damos would block and dodge the Jarl's attacks. Easily seeing through the man's movements, the Redguard might stoop, spinning and cutting through the Nord's armor and into his side. Blood stained the ground below a wailing Balgruuf.

"I won't be defeated by such a man as you!"

"Such a man as me? The Nord people are definitely resilient, but when it comes to being defeated by someone not of their culture, none of you are very honorable!"

Dropping his sword to cover his wound, the king of Whiterun might stagger slowly toward the Redguard. Side-stepping once the steel dagger swung down at him, the Stormcloak might grab Balgruuf's wrist, twisting it and wrenching the blade from the Jarl's grip. Punching with his fist, Damos would uppercut Balgruuf before kneeing the man's arm, snapping the bone within it. Growling in pain, Balgruuf would swing with his other hand, his intended target only ducking and moving away from him. Running forward, the Redguard would inhale deeply, focusing his sight on the Jarl of Whiterun as he released his breath in a powerful shout.

"Fus Ro Dah!" As his shout ripped from his mouth, the environment around would react to the incredible blast of power. Both long tables were flung into the air, their contents flying everywhere and covering every inch of the walls and floor with food and drink. For Balgruuf, the Nord would fly back, right into the large fireplace in the center of the dining area. His screams filled the air, and Damos might turn to see Galmar Stone-Fist and Ralof gawking at his actions.

"Pull him from the pit, I wouldn't have him die, only knowledgeable of the repercussions of going against the natural order of things! Everyone man, woman, and child deserve to be free of someone ruling over them!"

With a nod, Galmar Stone-Fist and Ralof would move away, pulling Balgruuf the Greater from the burning fire. Turning, Damos might be greeted by a face that he hadn't seen throughout the entire ordeal, although the latter was for it.

"Hello Vignar, I take it that you and you're family were fine re-entering the city?"

"Of course, Dragonborn! We were greeted by our brothers in the Stormcloaks. Since Jon fell to that mysterious beast several moons ago, the Battle-Born clan have been very quiet in their affairs, and proved no problem with taking the city, no doubt their participation could have turned the tables in the battle! But no worry, the Stormcloaks have taken Whiterun! And now, I, Vignar Gray-Mane, shall take the throne from Balgruuf the Greater and become the Jarl of this magnificent city!"

Nodding his head, the Redguard might watch the elderly Nord take his seat upon the throne, his daughter, Olfina Gray-Mane, taking her spot next to him as his new housecarl. Walking toward the newly appointed Jarl, the Dragonborn might speak.

"Vignar, is it over now? I mean, there are many more Imperial soldiers out there, they still have camps in this Hold, what shall we do about them...?"

Laughing heartily, the old Nord might rise from his throne, placing his hands upon Damos' shoulders as he spoke. "Trust me, boy! Now that we've taken the city, there shan't be another problem with them in this Hold, regardless if they camp within it or not. Do not worry, we have seized the day, and it is all thanks to you!" Clapping his hands, Jarl Vignar Gray-Mane might call his daughter toward them, the female wrapping her hands around the Redguard as her father spoke.

"I have come to find out that the two of you have been known to take to the same bed on occasion, correct? Take your fill of food and drink, and confide in my daughter for comfort, is is getting late! You may have my quarters for the night, I have more than enough things to take care of to keep life running in my city, and I won't be resting tonight. Now, enjoy yourself, for we have won, and know that the entire Imperial Legion will be next!" Holding the Dragonborn by the sides of his head, Vignar would laugh loudly before calling several people and his new steward, Brill to his side, leaving the Redguard and his occasional bed mate to themselves.

"Well Damos, can you stand the company of such a strong and enduring Nord woman?"

Chuckling to himself, the Redguard's lips were soon set upon by Olfina. The woman soon might giggle, parting their lips before skipping up the stairs, the woman shedding her gown during the last glimpse he had of her before she disappeared into the Jarl's Quarters. Grabbing two bottles of Black-Briar Reserve from the ground, the Redguard might smile.

"Why am I so lucky!" He laughed to himself, running up the stairs after her and into the Jarl's Quarters.

Hey everyone, I know it's a thin chapter this week, but I wanted to put something out that didn't involve the Dawnguard main quest line, and I wanted to finally show Damos' views on the Civil War. I guess you could say I antagonized Balgruuf a little, but to be honest, when I completed the quest on my own game, I had a sour taste in my mouth once the Nord explained why he was on the Imperial Legion's side, so in turn, I mirrored that here with Damos. New chapter already in mind, although I'm not sure if it will continue with the Dawnguard quest line or not, we'll all see. Review's are making me happy, I like them a lot, especially the guy who said Damos was a lady killer, just another mirror of the author I would guess. But please review, and like the story, thanks a lot! Ji-Smith out~