Here the Ralof chapter is! I know its not quite as comical as his other ones are, but there wasn't much time for that now. Anyway, the battles started, finally.
The thanks: to HereLies, thanks for the review! I'm happy that you liked the Kodaav, and that you were pleased to see the Companions reference. They'll be another one later! To DraGG, thanks for the review! I kinda improvised/took bits from the game for the Odahviing conversation, so I'm glad you liked it. To RaptorZeroOne, thanks for the review! I love dropping your jaw. Hopefully the next chapter will dislocate it! (Er, I mean you no harm when I say that.) To Delphine hater, thanks for the review. Set up an account and I'll happily look at your ideas! That way we can exchange Private Messages. Also, thanks for the vote! To JakMar, thanks for the review. Seeing as you're Batman, it means that yes, I'll have to implement all your ideas. I can't say no to Batman can I? To krabbizzle, thanks for the review and the vote! Glad you like my story! Hope you keep enjoying it. To Lucie, thanks for the review. I loved reading it, and as for your ideas on Sovngarde, well it's the next chapter! To CupNoodleSoup, thanks for the story follower! To Aero, thanks for the review! Hopefully this chapter will get your adrenaline running again. If not, the next one should. To DoctorDovah, thanks for the review! This is the next chapter, so let's see if that pumped-ness was actually worth it! To Bloodmark Mentor, thanks for the story favourite, story follower and follower thing! And to SimonStormcloak, thanks for the two reviews and story favourite! Glad you liked Ralof's POV. Here's another now!
Imperials- 4, Stormcloaks- 4, Other- 2
Ralof, of Riverwood
Ralof, of Riverwood sat in the dark, musing again. He couldn't say how long he had been confined here for, but the rapid sounds outside and the excited air of the Nord who brung him food suggested that they were nearing Solitude.
His days had all passed in the same way; food was given to him twice a day, and when they had moved him to a small room below deck, which Ralof suspected was actually a storage cupboard, they had taken his weapons and armour and dressed his broken leg. If there was one perk, it was that his confinement had allowed it to heal quickly. Ralof could walk well on it now, but he hadn't seen anyone since then, save his mysterious food-giver who appeared to be deaf. That, or he had a talent at ignoring people.
Naturally, Ralof had thrown his ideals out of the window after his leg had made a good recovery. He ahd tried to escape, but the door had proved unrammable and when he had attempted to overpower his captor, it had only earned him several new bruises.
As with all things in this accursed hole he couldn't be sure, but it also seemed that Ulfric had forgotten about him. Ralof supposed that the Jarl had better things to concern himself with than a traitor. The Captain had already accepted the hard truth that he wasn't going to be given a trial, but after weeks on end Fear had deserted him, and left the rebel empty of any emotion, be it terror, excitement or even anticipation for their arrival. He was bored.
Ralof had taken to playing with his food. He used any round pieces of fruit he was given as a ball to bounce against the walls. If there was one thing that this 'cell' had, it was walls.
Naturally the 'balls' only lasted a few throws, but even so when the guard had caught him throwing it, all types of fruit had been removed from his food, leaving him with nothing to do. Fruit throwing had been rubbish anyway. I was never much good with ball.
It was a cavalier attitude he had, Ralof realised, but there was really nothing else to do. All feeling had left him as the weeks had gone by, so he couldn't worry about his fate, he could only laugh about it, though even that was a struggle now. But if there was one thing that Ralof had discovered, it was that the cause he fought for was no longer the one had sworn an oath to.
With this revelation came both a certain amount of relief, but also uncertainty. While he was now free to do as he wished without moral consequence, the rebel was also faced with the difficult prospect of deciding what he could do. Should he return home? Did he want to fight for the Empire? Which cause was right? Now that he had finally broken out of the spell Ulfric had cast on him, Ralof realised that he could look at both factions and make a informed decision, not bound by who he knew, what was expected of him, or any of the things which might make him favour a cause, but by true judgement.
The Empire was weak, but no more so than a divided Skyrim. Despite what Ulfric thought, the country would take years to actually regain its stability. And then what? The Jarl had no heirs, and his military power would have been greatly degraded through the war, making any fight against the Thalmor next to impossible. In addition, the Jarl had also managed to alienate several other races, such as the dark elves, who Ralof was none to fond of either; the Imperials and the Bretons, after his role in the Markarth Incident. And on top of that, Ulfric was too proud. The Stormcloak's rarely accepted help, and even then only when it was absolutely necessary. Skyrim will have few allies when the Thalmor finally march onto our soil.
But at least Ulfric represented a vision; a free Skyrim, unchained and able to practice its beliefs as it saw fit. The end of Talos had been a betrayal, and one the Empire could never recover from. Their weakness had created the Thalmor as it is known now, so in a way, the Empire was responsible for all the hurts they had faced in this war, and the Great War. Ralof agreed that they needed strong leadership, but the further they came, the more he was convinced that Jarl Stormcloak wasn't it.
He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, exhausted by his revelations. Ralof could hear voices outside and mechanical whirls. He realised with a sudden burst of excitement that they must finally be at Solitude. Soon, blood would be spilt, but for the first time, Ralof couldn't decide if it was for a good cause or not.
The rebel was yanked from his musing by footsteps and the turn of a key. Light fell onto his face and Ralof used his hand to protect his eyes, squinting through it to see a familiar figure.
'There you are,' said Darien. He moved forward and pulled out a dagger, which he used to saw through Ralof's bonds. He was dressed lightly, with only the dagger by his side.
'What's going on? Where are we?'
Darien's face was unusually tense. 'Where else? Solitude. The battle's started, and I need to get you out of here.'
Ralof recovered from his shock and grabbed the other Nord's arm. 'Why? Why save me?'
Darien looked at him, carefully. 'Because I think you're right.' He hauled the other rebel to his feet, but Ralof lurched and stumbled. 'You'll get used to walking again.'
'I'm not sure. I must have been in there for months.'
'About one, yeah,' agreed Darien. 'Come on. The city's well defended. Our ships are taking a battering, and the Imperial navy is coming to trap us from behind. This is our only chance to get clear.'
'Wait, wait,' Ralof said, grabbing the Seastride man's arm. 'We're deserting.' His very instincts rebelled against the thought, but equally hadn't he wanted to leave anyway? Why not now?
Darien turned to look hard at Riverwood. 'We're as good as dead anyway. Me in battle, probably by an arrow, you by the headsman's axe. Or the deep blue,' he added as an after thought.
The comment about the sea worried the former Captain. 'You have a boat to escape,' Ralof asked uncertainly.
'No, we'll have to swim.'
Ralof started shaking. The thought of the water sent a cold fear through him, leaving him clammy and feverish.
'What?' Darien asked. 'It's the water or the fire.'
'Fire?'
'Tullius loaded barrels onto the catapults. Half the navy's gone, either blown up or deserted. Ulfric's reached land, but last I heard, he was dead; one of the men claims an arrow went through his throat.'
Ralof was shocked. 'He can't be dead,' he mumbled in disbelief.
'Why not? He's a man, and that's an arrow.'
'What of the cause?'
'What cause? You said as much yourself, not me. Look, we need to go, now.'
'Right.' Ralof took the steps slowly and emerged up on the deck of The Storm. The site that greeted him was nightmarish, torn from one of his bad dreams.
Fire burned on the water, which was choked by the wood of ships. Fights clashed on various decks, as men struggle to survive. Blood was turning the choked water red, and as he looked around he saw that Darien had told it true; half the fleet was gone. Along the shore were piles of bodies, but Stormcloak men were still throwing up lines and ladders to try and scale the walls. It was chaos.
'Let's go.' Darien ran to the edge of the ship, ignoring the fighting that was taking place as another longship tried to ram The Storm. 'The west coastline. We'll make for there, then Dragonsbridge, aye?'
Ralof nodded his consent as he stared down at the water. He felt sick, and his head was spinning.
Darien was about to dive, but Ralof grabbed him. 'I can't,' he told the other rebel.
'Why not? It's death, or this. Take one.'
'I can't go into the water.'
'You can, and you will.' Without warning, the Seastride man shoved Ralof off the deck, and into the sea.
The blue darkness closed around him, and he struggled desperately. Dead, mutilated faces entered his vision and left. Ralof screamed, struggling and writhing, pushing at the water, even as it sapped his strength. Darkness crossed across his vision but he didn't care anymore. It would save him, and lift him up, out of the water. And it did. With a hard tug he was up above the surface, spluttering and taking deep gulps of smoky air.
Ralof coughed, treading water and shaking. Darien was next to him, his hair plastered to his scalp.
'Let's go.' He pulled the other rebel through the water, the sounds of battle slamming against their ears. The heat of the fires that laced the water burned their faces and they struggled through the blood, making for the west shoreline. Darien was a strong swimmer, which was fortunate as Ralof wasn't. His strong strokes cut through the bloody water as he dragged the former Captain behind him, glancing up fearfully as arrows and stones hit the water, making it writhe and shift.
Ralof looked up at the walls of the city. Ropes and ladders had reached the top. The combined navy of Ulfric's ships, and the Jarl of Dawnstar's, were beginning to overcome Elisif's, and they were turing their attention to the walls. Already Ralof could see the impact they were having; Solitude's high defences were heavily scarred.
He looked back to see the shore only a short distance away. Relief burst through his tired limbs and Ralof increased his own stroke. Noticing this, Darien let go of him and started to power through the water. But suddenly, he stopped and looked up. Ralof followed his gaze and saw arrows whizzing down on them. Fear overtook any emotion and without thinking he plunged into the water as the missiles hit the surface. Darien wasn't so lucky.
The arrow caught him in his throat. He started choking and sank into the water, past the horrified Ralof. The rebel tried to grab the body, but it was sinking quickly and he dare not go any deeper. The water's depths still scared the hum, so instead he turned and broke through the water's surface. Without looking back or giving in to the dark feelings of loss that had suddenly sunk into his mind, Ralof made for the shore, his mind driven by one desire. Survive. Behind him was nothing but pain, fear and defeat. In front of him was a new future. Ralof swam faster.
Please review! You'll like what happens next chapter, I promise you. On that promise, please review!
