Author's note: Not gonna lie the lack of feedback from the past few chapters have kinda been a punch in the gut. Even if you don't think it helps, feedback and reviews really does gets us going, so feel free to drop down a review down below, it really means alot.
invite code for my Discors server: DbVVh6Ypel does not own TES or HP!
12th of Second Seed 4E 202
Somewhere on the hills of Cheydinhal, a camp full of men in armor and war equipment moved with urgency as preparations went under way. A runner entered the camo and went straight to a large tent in the center of the encampment.
A High elf received the scroll and opened it, giving it a quick look. It was time.
The majority of the personnel in the camp moved with a practiced haste, as they began to move forward. Soon they were once more on the road, marching ever forward. Arriving at their destination, they waited for the signal. Soon it was heard as the thundering sound of cannons ripped through the air, the men took out their crossbows. It was small, about 10 inches long, 2 inches wide at its body, with the bow being a 60 pound shortbow with a lever in the back as the charging handle. It had a box on the top that fed its bolt when the charging handle was pulled, all in all it was an effective piece of tech, if only bugged by feeding issues and the short charge of its enchantments.
They spied on an Artillery line that slowly crept up on the castle. Seeing their signal, they moved with the cannonade, staying behind the salvos of the cannon before finally entering the castle walls. It was a new and devastating form of Warfare, combined arms, or so had their commanders called it. Every unit had an integral role, and they did it to maximum effect.
Unlike Bruma, which they had geographical advantage over the city, and the defenses had been stacked on its single gate. Cheydinhal was an odd fortified city, with the Nibenay basin splitting the municipality into 2 and having 2 city gates as well as the Illogical placement… needless to say, it was both easy and hard to position the army just right having only runners carrying the messages around.
Nevertheless the behemoth effort had paid off, and Soon on both sides the gates had been blown open. The shout of Unrelenting Force having even reached their ears even from the other side of the city.
From there on it had been a bloody battle, Cheydinhal had a large concentration of Nibenese troops, so every inch, every bit of square taken had to be taken from their cold dead hands.
Until finally Harry Stormcrown, High King of Snow drew in a breath as cold as the Atmoran frost. From there, many of the defenders dropped their weapons and surrendered before the righteousness of the Thu'um.
While the Niben was independent of the colovians and their Nordic influencers they had been well versed in the legends of the Dragonborn and the Thu'um and thus, by nightfall, many new soldiers were Inducted into the Ranks of Harry Stormcrown, perhaps with overreaching dreams of conquest. But little did it matter- Observed Legate Fasendil, newly reappointed officer of Skyrim.
The High Elven soldier made his way over to the hall, where Harry Stormcrown was Talking to the count. Unlike the count of Bruma, this one had been chained and sent off to somewhere. Likely to the Dungeons, but most likely to be executed. Perhaps to be made an example off.
Carvain had been cooperative, but this one had been awfully inconvenient.
"Legate." The boy interrupts the elf from his mental reprieve. "Consider yourself promoted to the Rank of General, soon I'll have to head back to Skyrim, I feel more clouds gathering on the Horizon outside of Cyrodiil."
"I understand." Fasendil states.
"No you don't, you WILL be returning with me to Skyrim. Your examplenary discipline and readiness were perhaps amongst the best. And like Tullius, I reward Excellency. I'm no Seer, but I can feel it in my bones. Skyrim will be needing our army soon."
The legate bowed as the boy- no man left the halls of Cheydinhal
As he did so Harry saw Miraak waiting for him at the Gate. Watching him with narrowed eyes as he greeted her, "The ruins of Fort Farragut are near, the structure itself lies in ruins but the defectors assure me it still retains an underground space, take a detachment and clear it out. We don't want to take chances with Guerrilla fighters, I also have reliable info it once served as a hiding place for the Dark Brotherhood. So do be careful, after setting up a Garrison there, return to me, we got plans for tomorrow."
A runner approached them "Sir, all of the surrounding settlements have been taken successfully."
The boy gave him a nod and dismissed him.
8 Days later
Aragorn, who had the significantly larger bulk of the Army, around 6,000 men was wrapping up his end of matters, he had solidified his gains in Bruma, capturing all the forts, landmarks, caves and settlement down to this City. Now with Chorrol under his control so quickly, he could push on a bit more ahead of schedule.
Moving over to his tent he sat down and wrote down a scroll detailing his progress, before handing it to a courier to deliver to the stormcrown king.
Though no match for the might of his army Aragorn knew that Harry had set a specific set of strategic maneuvers which required the armies to be broken down in small squads when not laying siege or taking cities. And therein lay the real danger, smaller units facing off against other smaller units, while individually not a recipe for heavy casualties at first glance, a collective of them would however quickly mount the numbers. So he needed to be careful how to position his units and how. The recommended unit was 3 dedicated archers, 4 regular soldiers, 3 artillery men, 4 battlemages and 3 dedicated healers. All in all, 17 men per unit, but based on the individual scenario, the type and number of units could be adjusted. The only thing actively hindering their efforts of breaking down the armies into smaller pieces was the limited advancement in Technology.
Good ole parchment and paper delivered via a courier on horseback. At least that was an upgrade from the fact that previously they had to run on foot. Not only that, while his camp was the main one on this side of the Bank, there were many smaller encampments spread out across occupied cyrodiil.
Aragorn sighed as he continued to plan coordinated strikes on many locations starting in the Ayleid ruins of Wendir, where he knew a force was hiding. Down to the Ruins of Ceyatatar. That was of course hoping that everything went well. Either way soon he would need more men to refill his army.
An officer enters his tent, "General, we have captured the Weynon Priory and the Odiil farm as well as fort Ash and fort Carmala, we can expect to begin another assault tomorrow as well."
Aragorn shook his head "No, the men need a bit of rest, we have been marching non stop for 14 days non stop, we are spreading out a bit then, we will wait for the reinforcements, which should be here within 5 days, then we attack. The next offense will be bloody and lengthy as we bypass Skingrad and go straight for Kvatch and Anvil, we will need those shipyards."
The officer nodded, before asking the golden question "How do you think The King is fairing."
Aragorn laid back as he sat contemplative, "It's true that the only major settlement in the Niben is Cheydinhal, but there a lot more cave, forts, settlements and encampments, they also had a smaller force to set out with alongside the fact they also have to cover a bigger area than us. Yet, they also receive and rotate reinforcement
More often than us. Lucky for us, we can cover more ground quicker as it seems everything is closer on our side, while there's is more spread out."
2 Days later
Harry Stormcrown looked down at Fort Gold throat with Disgust evident in his eyes. Aside from a small group of Imperials, there was very little in the way of this fort. What's more, is that The boy was vexed with how abandoned many of the forts in Cyrodiil were.
Miraak came to stand next to him "Problem my king?"
"Yes, everything in this province seems to be abandoned since even before the oblivion crisis!" The boy began to Rant. "That was 200 years, the great war was only 25 years ago! That bloody Idiot Titus Mede ought to hang himself from the highest point of whatever hole he is hiding under! You would think with The Thalmor on our border he would want to restore a few of these, you know slow down the Thalmor advance. But nooo!!! Cause sacking the imperial city once wasn't enough! Seriously! Is this Goddamned idiot this stupid? Does he really think he can win a war by keeping them out the border? Goddamn Wanker! Might as well go and build a bloody wall while he is at it."
Miraak placed a hand on his shoulders "Calm down Harry, soon we will be in control of the province. Almost everywhere we go they surrender on sight, Aragorn while encountering resistance is making significant gains."
Harry shook his head "I am sorry Miraak, but you also have to take into account every septim that will have to go into restoring the forts and the ruins. Ugh, I am so going to Enjoy executing those in charge of the treasury."
The lady giggled "Well, we can't win every battle now can we?"
The boy crossed his arms, and tried not to pout or scowl as he gave the order for a few to remain behind to await the next wave of reinforcements while the rest of his army marched on to their next destination.