Skyrim in the property of Bethesda Softworks. Retconing happens from time to time and I felt the need to do it today. The original text of Chapter 26, "Nothing Shame Can't Fix," was highly inflammatory and after a negative review, I found myself less than happy with it. Until recently I was content to let the chapter stand and simply not allow Ieago to break character again. Recently however, I was reading an article called Avoiding Mistakes in Fanfiction Writing: A Beginner's Guide by 'Valis2' on a blog called sycophanthex. In it the author writes:

"And beware of giving them the most clichéd flaw that I can think of: having a bad temper. Certainly you can write an interesting story around a character with a bad temper, but most that I've seen in the hands of a beginning writer involve the character simply being angry without any realistic limitations or setbacks. In real life bad temper is not an asset, and people with anger problems alienate friends and family. Their outbursts are not tolerated the way they are in fanfiction."

This passage rang true to me regarding Ieago's screaming tantrum. I hope that I've grown as a writer somewhat since I published Dragonborn and with this new insight decided to replace the original text with a more consistent reaction from Ieago.

For the sake of disclosure, the original text of Chapter 26 is below. Feel free to message me or post a review discussing which version you like better.

Chapter 26: Nothing Shame Can't Fix

Jarl Balgruuf shook with rage as I relayed Ulfric's words, "You are dismissed Thane, but do not leave the city without my leave until after the battle," he turned to his steward, "Proventus, get my brother and Commander Caius up here. Now."

We bowed to our Jarl as one and left.

"I am bound by oath and honor to defend Whiterun in the coming battle," I announced. "I would have the Companions do the same."

I had gathered the Circle and Vignar Gray-Mane at the Skyforge to see if the Companions would follow me into battle.

"The Companions haven't been part of the politics of Skyrim since the First Era. Taking sides in this war would threaten our position as arbiters of honor and warriors for hire. Kodlak thought it was best to keep out of it," Vilkas objected.

"But what of your opinion Vilkas? I called us here to speak our minds."

Vilkas frowned deeply, "There are good reasons to fight. I just wish this war had them. Who cares who worships what dead god? Give me something to make me draw my sword."

"I am with my brother on this," Farkas said. I was disappointed by the apathy in my two best men.

"What of you Vignar?" I asked.

"The Empire has no place in Skyrim... not anymore," The old soldier said.

"Strange to hear that from a former legionnaire," I said, "You fought for the Empire in the Great War."

He snorted at me, "If this was my Empire, I'd be able to worship whoever I damned well pleased! You wish to see an Empire without Talos? Without its soul? We should be fighting those witch-elves, not bending knee to them. The Emperor is nothing more than a puppet of the Thalmor. Skyrim needs a High King who will fight for her, and Whiterun needs a Jarl who will do the same."

In my memoirs, I try to show rather than tell, but no amount of narration could do justice to how disappointed I felt in the wake of their excuses: I went ballistic.

"Are you fucking serious?" I screamed at them. "None of you are going to fight? Vilkas, Farkas, see all these houses around us? There full of our neighbors! You know? The people that have tolerated our violence and protected our secrets for millennia? When the siege opens, the catapults will flatten their houses! The Stormcloak assaults are going to tear apart their sons and daughters on the walls! Remember what we did to those bandits at Driftshade? Some of these people won't have enough of their faces left for their loved ones to know them by! I could never live down the shame of not fighting by them!"

I turned on Vignar next, "As for you, you wasted old fuck. This! Is! Our! Empire! This is the Empire of Alessia, Reman, and holy Talos! This is the Empire that our ancestors fought and died for! Now you want them to have bled for nothing? Fuck that and you!" I yelled, shoving a finger into his chest. The old man certainly didn't deserve it, but this was a release for a youth of fear and months of exhaustion and fighting. I pointed in the direction of Heimskr the street-preacher; for once silent while listening to my tantrum, "In Skyrim, a priest of Talos spends fourteen hours a day-every day-bellowing his gospel in the streets completely untouched! When I was fifteen, I helped cut my next-door neighbor's body down from a cross-and she wasn't the first I'd seen crucified! The Justiciars caught her holding a prayer meeting! And there are thousands in Cyrodiil just like me, aching for their opportunity to fight! To see their Empire free and noble again!"

"Harbinger, calm..." but I cut Aela off with a wave of my hand.

"You cry and bleat at me about not being able to worship the God of Men Vignar? Go cry me a fucking river! You know nothing of oppression! Nothing of what it's like to be hunted for being faithful! Not the way any Cyrodiil knows it!" I paused, but the shaking would not stop, "Now in less than a week, an army will surround Whiterun and the siege will begin. You were at the Battle of the Red Ring. You know damn well what a siege will do to this city. The Companions founded this city! You people want a reason to fight Farkas? How about this: I'll be gods-damned if I'm going to sit on my ass while some upstart on a mission burns Whiterun to the ground and shits on everything I know of honor!"

None there but Aela had seen me in a rage before. I took a breath and spoke again, my voice ragged, "Let it be known to all the Companions down to the rawest new blood: their Harbinger goes to war," I sucked in another quivering breath. "Any who would stand with him in battle should be here tomorrow noon. I expected better from you all. Great warriors my ass."

Aela found me sitting cross-legged on our bed. After my explosion I had left the group and gone home.

"Usually you're only frightening with your hood up or with your blindfold off," she said, sitting at the foot of the bed. "I think half the city heard you."

"I hope I inspired some of them," I replied. "Everywhere I go up here, I hear the whispers, see the meaningful looks: 'Imperial bastard,' 'you shamed us all,' 'go back to Cyrodiil,' I pretend not to hear it, but I get so sick of it. We're a people worth fighting for and so is our Empire."

"So many of us saw our loved ones march off to die. When the White-Gold Concordant was made, too many of us saw our friends and family die for nothing. Skjor used to whisper the names in his sleep."

"I've seen the camps," I told Aela. "All along the borders with Valenwood and Eslweyr. It's mile after mile of camps and watchtowers. When you look across the border it's the same thing on the other side, but it's a Bosmer or Khajiit ranger staring back at you. The war is hardly over. And if Skyrim is not part of the next war, if its people cannot stand with those of Cyrodiil, Morrowind, and Highrock, then all our sacrifices will be in vain."

Aela wrapped her arms around me and guided my head to a pillow, "You should rest. You've been riding hard for the last month. The Jarl will want his thanes at Dragonsreach for a council of war early tomorrow."

"I hope I bring him men," I whispered, "He's a good ruler."

Before I go I have a few acknowledgements. Thanks once more to Meyer331 for calling me on my bad work. I am grateful for every critical review and every kind word.

I hope you read this Kai, in response to the questions you raise in your review of Chapter 29: The "coward's ways" Hjornskar references in Chapter 29 are things like Ieago's use of a mage to drop the bridge with a fire spell, using hit-and-fade tactics, and running away from the dragons like a wuss. Hjornskar is hardly a traitor for calling out Ieago. After all, the Harbinger/Dragonborn has openly declared his opposition to would-be King Ulfric's designs. Ieago is an enemy to be removed from Ulfric's path.

To bring things to a close, The difference between Ieago's use of the Voice against Hjornskar and Ulfric's against Torygg reveals one of the basic differences between two characters who behave in basically the same way. It is my view that Ulfric thinks of the Voice as a tool to achieve his ends. He is willing to use it often and deal with the consequences afterward. He is not a stupid man: he knows what killing Torygg looked like.

While Ieago hardly agrees with the Greybeards' pacifism, he does believe that the Voice is something special. As a result, he limits its use to the most potent enemies and dangerous environments. What makes his scene with Hjornskar jarring is that for the first time we see Ieago misusing the Voice and Shouting out of anger.

I could go on discussing Skyrim and Skyrim fanfiction all day, but I really have more to write. Thank you all again and again for the follows, the favorites, the reviews, and the questions. I have a tremendous amount of fun writing out Ieago's adventures. I have learned a huge amount about writing from doing this. Rest assured, nothing in my stories will be without lasting consequence: All the controversial things Ieago's been doing for the last three stories are about to come back to haunt him.