Force.Balance.Push.

Dawnstar

Svedi was right, Adair did like Dawnstar. It was probably because most of the city was located on or very near to the shoreline, it reminded him of Daggerfall in that respect. The immediate sound of the sea and the bustle of the docked ships, brought back memories of a long ago childhood. It felt strange to call Dawnstar a city, as it was far closer to the size of a town than a city. He supposed it was the capital's lucrative sailing industry that had named Dawnstar the capital of The Pale.

The cart ride to the capital from Windhelm had been an experience. Himself, Svedi and the other soldiers bound for Dawnstar had alighted onto the wagon in the early morning. Their companions on the journey were a group of soldiers -twelve men and women- unbloodeds like themselves. Though the journey had been frightfully cold, a seemingly bottomless flask of mead had been passed between all fourteen of them and it helped to keep their belly's warm and their spirits up. For the first leg of the three day journey games of cards had been played and stories animatedly told amongst the little band. The last two days had been spent bent double, huddled into each other's neighbour against a snow storm.

As the cart had rolled into the city they had all disembarked outside the Jarl's Longhouse. As soon as they had all lined up to attention outside, waiting for their captains and orders. The Stormcloaks who had been previously been on guard duty had ascended the cart the new arrivals had just vacated. With their shift over they would be sent back to Windhelm for further orders. The new guard watched the old guard intently; they looked like they hadn't slept in weeks. All haggard, pale gaunt faces and dark bags under their eyes. All fourteen shared dubious looks with each other as they watched the cart pull away. None dared say a word, but that didn't stop the looks of curiosity, dread and the raised eyebrows.

Quite suddenly the door of the Longhouse swung open, all fourteen heads snapped forward. A red haired Nord emerged; it was obvious from the belt of rank around his middle and the symbol on the pommel of his sword that this was their Captain. The man looked no better than the Stormcloaks that had left in the cart moments before, in fact he looked worse. The Captain stepped forward to address his new charges.

''Right, name's Erold and I'm the Captain of the guard in this city and while you're all stationed in Dawnstar you're all under my command. Do what I say without any bullshit and we won't have any problems, is that understood?''

There came a rumble of the affirmative from the group.

''Good.''

The Captain's eyes ran over the group, they fell upon the figure of Adair. His brow creased for a moment, there was a flicker of some recognition in his eyes, but it was quickly forgotten as he addressed the Stormcloaks. ''I know that many of you don't come from The Pale, but remember as the guards of this city you are Dawnstar's main defence and must be ready to lay down your lives as if this was your home. Is that understood?'' He barked

A collective rumble of ''Yes, Captain.'' responded.

Erold gave a small nod ''I know you're journey has been hard so go and rest up for a bit in the barracks. If the supply of mead runs out there's the Windpeak Inn up the road. You while receive formal orders shortly, until then you are dismissed.''

...

It was on Adair's second day at Dawnstar that he and another guard were given the job of apprehending a wanted criminal spotted in the area. The Stormcloak that he had been paired with was a young Nord by the name of Orvar. The man was quite a few years Adair's junior and a soft spoken, kind lad. It was general thought that if any of them was to be made Captain it would be Orvar before all of them, the man was a tactical genius, even if he was too young to grow a beard. The two had managed to persuade a farmer to allow them to ride in the back of his gig for a bit of the way, the farmer had agreed to take them down the road (about two miles) to near where the criminal had been most recently spotted. They had refused the offer to sit alongside the driver instead opting for the far less comfortable wagon filled with hay.

Adair grunted as he tried to seat himself in a position where the hay didn't stick into him, the effort was in vain however, as no matter which way the Breton tried to position himself he found the hay sticking itself into him in the most uncomfortable of places. And to make matters worse the gig constantly bounced about on the uneven road surface, tossing about its two passengers. It was better than walking for two miles, but barely.

''Remind me again why we're sat back here?'' Adair said as the gig gave a lurch beneath them.

''Sorry lads, pothole.'' The driver supplied pulling at the reins to slow the horse.

Orvar pulled a few lengths of hay from his hair. ''Say that we sat up with the driver, what would happen if our target happened to see us? She'd have scarpered and we wouldn't even know it.''

They again lapsed into silence, instead concentrating on not being thrown over the side of the cart. True to his word the driver dropped them off two miles from where their target had last been sighted. Adair and Orvar jogged through the gently falling snow, it didn't take them long to find a recently used camp site. The firewood still smouldering hot, they had set off after a set of tracks leading to the east.

''So, this person that we have to apprehend, what'd they do?''

''Generally thievery, she picked some pockets, broke into a couple of houses, stole valuables and weapons.''

''So what's the protocol with thieves?'' Adair asked, generally there were different rules of thumb when dealing with different types of criminals.

''She's past the point of simply paying off her bounty. We apprehend her if possible and take her back to Dawnstar to stand trial, that's if she comes quietly. If she doesn't...''

''We kill her.''

''Right.''

A few hours passed, both Stormcloaks had jogged in a wide circle hoping for any sign of their thief, they had found nothing. Adair was beginning to think that the woman must have seen them at some point and bolted. Not wanting to keep walking around in the cold and wind on a wild goose chase Adair was about to suggest they turn around and head back home, when quite suddenly there came a strange yowl to their right. Adair and Orvar both leapt for their weapons expecting a wild cat to leap out them, instead, and quite surprisingly, a woman stood before them.

To call her a woman those was to regard her as human, this woman before them seemed far from it. Her eyes were dark and restless, some kind of primeval energy held there, making them roll furiously about their sockets. Her hair was a mess of matted knots twisted and sticking at all angles about her face, a number of ugly scars were chiselled into her face. Her skin was thick with dirt, so much in fact it was hard to discern the original pigment. There was a bow strapped to her back, a far too handsome weapon for her to wield.

''Stop thief! You've violated the law serve your sentence or die.'' Orvar shouted, on the second syllable of 'sentence' his voice cracked which sent the wild woman into a fit of cackles. Orvar's face grew hot; Adair pulled himself to his full height and raised his sword to point in the direction of the woman's jugular.

''What say you thief?'' Adair growled.

The mad woman stopped her cackling and gave a soft sight and wiped a moist eye, Orvar spluttered in anger. ''What do I say?'' The woman asked in a unusually high mocking voice, it was quite obvious she was insane. ''I say you leave before I fill you with arrows.'' The woman growled dangerously, she reached for the bow slung across her back, quicker than either of the men could breath inwards, an arrow was shot from her bow. It found its target with deadly accuracy. The arrow struck Orvar's throat, the boy toppled to the ground a gargled howl of agony arching out from his mouth. The boy twitched and writhed on the ground as his mouth red froth spilled from his lips. Adair felt bile rise up into his throat as the boy's eyes stared pleadingly into his, Adair could do nothing as Orvar's convulsing body slowly stilled, the boy's once bright eyes dulled and became blank.

A sharp cackle stabbed through the air, Adair turned to see the foul woman bent forward clutching her knees laughing manically. A roar of fury flew from the man's throat as he rushed for the woman; reflexes like a cat the woman reached for bow and lanced a few arrows. These found their mark in Adair's shoulder, but the man continued sprinting at the woman, he threw himself upon her forcing her to the ground. The wild thief howled and scratched his eyes; her frenzied movements only relented when the Breton's sword ripped through her neck.

...

The door to the barracks creaked open; a figure stepped inside the door he was met by absolute silence. All eyes were wide, nobody dared breath. Adair stood in the door way eyes distant, bleeding from the shoulder. All eyes were upon the small crumpled body in his arms, Orvar. The man crumpled to his knees, exhausted. Svedi leapt forward to catch Adair as he slumped to the floor. The only sound in the barracks was the crackling of the fire.