"Watch out!." Was the cry of a soldier as a projectile blew open the wall he was supposed to be guarding, a hole gaping and wide opened itself as troops began to pour in from the open space. Armed with crossbows and swords the men in blue/red armor, with lifted weapons up to their shoulders as they targeted the platoon that had been responsible for this section of wall.
This was it. The last independent stronghold in Cyrodiil. The Imperial city, the white gold tower. For close to 2 weeks now those who weren't captured, killed or bowed down to the new empire fled to the capital of the heartlands. 30,000 strong made to defend the iconic tower.
It was an interesting thing, the nords of skyrim had controlled the Imperial province for almost a month now, and 3 weeks since they took control of the River Niben and Lake Rummera. 2 weeks since the Nords decided to simply starve the city. Or so they had thought.
Unknown to the Imperial defenders, however, the spread thin Army of Skyrim had received a massive boost of 10,000. Which, 60% of it consisted almost entirely of long range units and High elven mages. It was 6 months after the Battle of Skingrad. After taking Anvil and kvatch, campaign season had slowed down to a halt. In this time The occupiers had taken time to integrate all of the conquered territories and entrench themselves. Which the defenders of Cyrodiil. Which is what they had taken to calling themselves, also did.
Yet, no matter what they did, they could do little to stop the cannonade. Or at least they thought they couldn't.
At this stage in the battle, it was the end. The decisive blow. As the cannonballs ripped through the air the defenders moved the civilians deeper inside into the tunnels, through the imperial prison. However, to their surprise a boy in silver armor and blue cloth surrounded by an army of blue armored men carrying those horrid weapons of war, the murmurs of scared children and crying women.
"Put your weapons down, we shan't fight."
The boy spoke.
Crossbows loaded with a bolt that had a point that glowed with a fiery red. A sign of the explanation enchantment some of the defenders had encountered in previous battles. There was no mistaking this unit.
The feared Dragon guard, infamous for following the High King of Skyrim into battle. Therefore that meant that the boy in front of them…
"The Hing King himself?" The head defender asked, clad in the officer Armor of the now mostly dead empire of cyrodiil.
"Hn. So you finally recognized me?" The boy- king in question asked.
"I've heard rumors. I'd never thought you would come to take our city yourself, much less lead such an underhanded attack." The caption said.
"I am capable of much more." The stomcrown said, as he waved his hand, he disarmed the rest of the defenders of cyrodiil. Weapons flying away from the hands of the men.
"Lets not butcher each other, not here. In front of the innocent." The boy continued.
The captain took a moment to look at the huddled masses, the thousand long lines. Taking a deep breath, the captain said "It's awful loud out there. When the battle started. We have seen those horrid weapons of yours take chunks out of our city walls. Homes with innocents blown to bits. The stubborn ones who refused to leave, but innocent nonetheless."
"If you are worried about the fate of Cyrodiil, don't. Everywhere I go. Every city destroyed in battle, my army stays to rebuild. Bring education to all, security from the foes. Don't think of my empire as a foreign aggressor, but a continuation of the empires of the men of yore."
Harry took a step forth "The Mede empire was weak, they wouldn't have stood a chance against the dominion. My empire liberated Skingrad from the hands of the elves within hours of their landing."
Above the tunnels, the fighting was growing fiercer as more and more poured through the walls
The Waterfront, Talos Plaza and the Eleven Gardens were being overrun. The Imperial city prison had been stormed.
Soon, the defenders were hiding behind the tombstones of the deceased emperors, in the Green Emperors graveyard. For all intents and Purposes, the White-Gold tower. The symbol of empires. The sigil of power, the Tower of space. Had fallen.
The only still to take place was the Arcane university, as A glowing protective barrier stopped all explosive bolts and the cannonade. No mage present could bring it down, not make a scratch.
The remnants of the Ruby legion met the Storm head on as the blue armored men kept storming in. A rogue cannon blast blew open a hole into the White Gold towers gold doors. The power of the explosion rippled through the air as another blast ripped through.
And another, and another. The blasts were no longer rogue. But conscious and deliberate. Once the Ruby general realized what was happening, the now infamous tactics is bearing down fire while the troops moved into position. It was game over, the resistance inside surrounded the tower collapsed.
"Cease fire" the general screamed.
At first nothing. But he tried again, this time. He did hear the call from the other side.
The lines yelling cease fire. And soon the cannons silenced. A woman, with red and blue robes stepped through the smoke, with brown hair and a sword by her side.
"So the mighty ruby legion surrenders at last." The patronizing slow tone spoke.
"We know better than to mess with the coordinated armies of the north. Especially when they bring to bear those things on us." The general said in a monotonous tone, hiding his hurt pried as other legionaries dropped their sword and surrendered. Some still tried to make a last stand but were quickly cut down.
The Ruby legion made the last stronghold of Cyrodilic resistance, the war in Cyrodiil was over.
The only place left was the Arcane university, which remained under the protective ward.
Soon The civilians began to emerge from the underground, with the Soon to be emperor leading them. The Imperial city was almost unrecognizable, not even the Thalmor had hit the city this hard. Entire sections of city Walls, Residences and buildings laid destroyed.
Harry took one look at the wall and said to Miraak, "Someone get me J'zargo."
The minutes passed and slowly, life seemed to have been returning to a somewhat normal state.
The Corp of engineers had set to rebuilding the lost residences, setting camps for the temporarily displaced. Harry himself had sent out summonings to all the provincial counts and duchess.
Cyrodiil would be changed forever by this one event.
The dead were being gathered, they would be buried just outside the city walls. At least, they could all be afforded this much.
As Harry walked through the city, he caught the corpse of a small girl laying on the streets. He didn't need to guess how she died. Another corner and a mass of people. Their looks said it all, fear, anger, hatred.
A young imperial mother clutching her babe, their husband/father nowhere to be found. He sighed, integrating the province was no doubt going to be a herculean task. This was all due to him. No denying that. What a weird time to suddenly grow a conscience.
A mother crying over the corps of her child, a soldier.
He closed his eyes.
"You don't look so well my friend." Aragorn's voice came from beside him.
"Not a well day." Harry replied in kind.
"No doubt about it. But this is what happens in conquest. Do not dishonor their memories now. They were good boys and girls. On both sides."
Harry raised his eyes "Why didn't they surrender when we came for them? Did they not realize it is hopeless?"
Shaking his head Aragorn said "Do not underestimate the spirit of these people. They are willing to take the punishment of war, if only to have someone to dump it on later. Usually their leaders. Good luck."
"You're the king." Harry said.
Aragon stopped.
"You are the King of White Gold city."
Aragorn turned around. "Why me?"
"Because this is Akatosh domain. You are a child of Akatosh. Not me."
Aragorn shook his head.
"We'll talk about this some other time. Lets go, ale awaits us."
A child look as the woman addressed his wounds with a golden light that soothed his pain.
"There you go. Now run along" Miraak said as she watched him. He remained seated.
"Why did so many people have to die?"
The boy asked in a low tone.
Miraak thought for a second. "Sometimes… Sometimes, things must change. And at times, the price of change. Is a price to be paid in the blood of many. Timber Septim built a beautiful empire. But none tell you the hideous bloodshot that it cost to build. To bring peace. Only that the times before were turbulent times. And that he brought us peace. Your new emperor… Well, the bloodshed spilt today, may have been enough to stop the blood that may need to be spilt tomorrow."
2 hours after the battle of White Gold Tower.
Harry was sitting at the steps of the Imperial Palace, he hadn't gone in yet.
He saw the General of the Ruby legion approach him. "Your Imperial majesty-"
"Harry, just call me harry." The boy said.
"Yes sir-Harry. I must ask what of my soldiers?"
"The will be given full military honor, everyone here today, be it Imperial or Nord. Defender or invader. It doesn't matter, the dead will be honored with their military tradition. All will be awarded well. Have the cloth workers produce small banners, I have my own tradition to introduce." Harry said.
The general bowed "Thank you."
"May i know your name?" Harry asked the general.
"Rodvir."
"Cyrodiil will need men like you soon again Rodvir." Harry said as he watched the General walk off.