Iddra leaned against the bar, idly wiping at the already clean surface with a cloth. It had been a very quiet day ever since that group of soldiers led by the pale giant man had marched away that morning. She sighed and pushed her hair back with one hand. Business was particularly slow. Iddra glanced around the empty common room and straightened. The local customers were simply not out tonight and it was getting to be quite late. She tossed the cleaning rag onto the well-polished bar and walked around it to begin setting up the chairs.

It was getting harder of late. The Braidwood Inn was seeing fewer travelers as tensions between the Stormcloaks and the Empire mounted ever higher. Of course the inn still had all of its rustic charm. All of the furniture was well made, if simple, and she was careful to keep everything clean and maintained. Still she couldn't help but worry that war would truly come and Kynesgrove would be either a battleground or cut off from the rest of the province.

Sudden heavy footsteps on the on the stairs leading up to the inn door made Iddra turn and look over just in time to the see the door thrust open. The enormous pale man had returned and ducked through the doorway. He saw her immediately across the firelit room and called out, "We require lodging. Food and drink also." He stepped into the room as he spoke, opening the way for his soldiers to pour in after him. She saw that several of them were wounded and surprisingly that several of the Vigilants of Stendarr, which had previously passed through town, appeared to be traveling in his company now.

Iddra nodded to him, looking over the crew filing into the inn once more. "I'll fix up a space for the injured and then bring out something to eat. Just a moment!" She bustled off quickly to see to it. Kratos nodded his thanks, though she was already turning away and likely did not see.

He turned back to his men, "Rest, eat and drink. You have all done well." As he spoke, Brother-Captain Caius Valerius' sharp-eyed gaze saw him lay a hand on the shoulder of a nearby soldier. The man was visibly wilting, exhausted by the long marches at speed, the combat, and the lateness of the hour, but he straightened immediately, eyes bright at Kratos' gesture. With his non-physical senses he noted the same distortion to the very aether that he had seen back at the cultists' cave. Caius' eyes narrowed slightly as the man then set off immediately to help settle one of the wounded at a table, helping to ease his injured compatriot down.

Kratos beckoned Lydia back over and when she had arrived, murmured to her, "Settle the men and compensate the innkeep. We will take stock in the morning." Lydia nodded to him and set out to see it done. The next few minutes was composed of organizational bustling as the men were fed, settled, and assigned rooms. The Vigilants were also swept up in Lydia's efforts, something to which Caius had no objection as they currently had no supplies or money and were effectively destitute.

Soon enough everything had fallen into place. Half of the men had retired to their beds, the rest were finishing eating, and the cost was settled. Lydia glanced around the room double-checking their situation. She did not see Kratos in the inn. Brows drawing neatly together she stood and looked about again. As there was no way to miss the man, clearly he had left. She out a short and somewhat frustrated sigh. Regardless of whether or not she believed that there was anything that could threaten her thane, he was just that. Her thane. Moreover she was supposed to be his shield. His red right hand. Lydia stood quickly and swept out of the inn onto the moonlit street of Kynesgrove.

The night air was cool and a gentle breeze rustled the treetops. Lydia stood for a moment on the porch of the inn looking about for any sign of the man. After a moment, she simply began walking, following a gut feeling. She came upon him suddenly. He was sitting completely still, axe resting across his lap, at the edge of the trees on the wooded rise of the eastern edge of Kynesgrove. When she noticed him it was as if he appeared from nowhere, a pale marble pillar in the night, marked in red, his unwavering gaze staring out over the sleeping village.

Lydia joined his solitary vigil and sat near him, noting the care with which he held his axe. They sat in silence for a time before Lydia broke it, "You are well, my thane?"

When Kratos answered he spoke softly, barely audible even in the still night, "I am." Lydia looked over to see him staring down at the weapon that held gently, with an almost reverent air. Remembering its origins, Lydia abruptly felt like an intruder, someone who had stumbled in upon his grief. She swallowed and stood, taking a few steps to go before pausing. She opened her mouth and almost spoke before closing it again.

After another aborted attempt she finally said quietly, "I wish I had met her." Before starting her way back to the inn.

A few steps later she heard Kratos' voice rumble through the night, "She would have liked you." Lydia smiled and continued walking.

Kratos sat, lost in his memories of Faye where time had no meaning. It was only the lightening of the eastern sky that finally moved him. He turned when he saw the sun light the far edges of the valley; Kynesgrove still shadowed by the mountains and wooded foothills. He stood slowly and began to make his way back into the town. He had given the night to his memories. But he knew better than to lose himself to his grief. Time had dulled its ache but the wound was there and was, he believed, as immortal as he was.

Kratos made his way swiftly to the inn. Despite the early hour when he entered, there were quite a few people scattered around the common room. He was not surprised to see Lydia there as she had taken to his custom of rising well before the sun. Several of his own soldiers were present as well as the three Vigilants. He and Lydia exchanged a nod as he entered and made his way over to her. Seeing him, Brother-Captain Valerius made his way over as well.

Seeing Kratos' eyes narrow at his approach, Caius held up a forestalling hand, "I know that here we part ways. We are grateful for all you have done to help us, though it was not your mission or original intent. I only request that you give my brothers and I another opportunity to see to the wounded. We have rested now and should be able to do more for them."

Kratos nodded silently, upon realizing that he intended to say nothing, Lydia quickly interjected, "We thank you for the care of our injured. Please let us know your recommendations for further treatment as well."

Caius gave them a small smile, "Of course. I won't keep you. I hope to meet you both again under more pleasant circumstances. Stendarr's blessing on you both." With a final nod he walked over to his own men and they immediately set out to work their healing magicks. Kratos watched the man for few moments until Lydia drew his attention.

"You truly do not trust the man."

He gave a bare nod, "I do not."

She cocked her head quizzically "Do you think he will… do something?"

"He will not."

Her brows rose, "So he will do nothing, but you still don't trust him."

Another nod, "I do not know or understand his goals. A thief I trust to be a thief."

Lydia's eyes brightened, "So it's the nature of the person then." She shrugged and gave him a grudging nod as she considered his point. She looked at him, serious once more, "Do you trust me then?"

Kratos looked at her, catching her eyes and holding them in his amber stare for a moment before answering, "You are my red right hand."

Soon enough the company was on the road heading back towards Whiterun, though moving at a much more restrained pace out of consideration for the recently wounded. All of the injured were ambulatory now and were, for the most part, highly functioning. The healing magicks of the grateful vigilants had been highly effective and served to almost complete their recovery.

Lydia reflected back on the somewhat strange morning and departure. As they had made their final preparations to leave Kratos had been somewhat preoccupied, almost seeming distracted to her, which was not a term she had ever thought to use to describe the man. He had then declared that they would, at least for the first leg of their journey, avoid the main road and cut southwest across the main portion of Eastmarch before rejoining the main thoroughfare and the White River at the pass and continue into Whiterun. Lydia had immediately inquired on the reason behind this change of course as the only reason that she could see would be to avoid pursuit.

Lydia sighed and rubbed her face at the memory. He had only said that he "had a feeling" and that this should be their course. She was worried. Not because of the seeming lack of reason but because she had complete faith in that reason. She did not know how he knew what he did, but through whatever divine sense or mechanism it came, she new better than to disregard it. She remembered their hunting expedition, when he knew that one of their people had been taken, how he had tracked his axe by that same sense, and she saw no reason to disregard that warning sense now.

They traveled for the entire day without incident, their pace unhurried, not wishing to risk injury on the rougher terrain or to strain the recuperating members of the troop. However at Kratos' insistence a scout traveled ahead of the party and another trailed behind to keep a weather eye out for any watchers or possible interlopers. Similarly their camp that night was a cold one. No fires burned to give away their position and a vigilant watch was kept up through the night.

The next day passed in very much the same way. They continued west through Eastmarch, paralleling the White River but keeping out of the marshy region to the south, sticking to the band gnarled trees that occupied the space between the trees and marshland. They crossed several offshoots of the mighty White River that flowed off to the south and camped near the foothills of the Throat of the World and its associated range.

Lydia awoke the following morning to find her thane already awake as usual but seeming more agitated. Lydia quickly armed herself and checked over her armor, securing the leather straps. With that completed she approached Kratos and joined him as he gazed off to the east. "What is it, my thane? What troubles you?"

He answered without turning, "Battle is coming." His nose wrinkled in a silent snarl, "I can smell it." Lydia waited for a moment, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She only smelled the crisp clean air of Skyrim, redolent with the scents of pine and fir. She opened her eyes and looked over to Kratos with a shrug. He minutely shook his head, "No. Again. Focus." He reached out and gently tapped the tip of her nose, "You are not just using this." He moved his finger and placed it at the center of her forehead, "You are using your head," he dropped his and tapped her breastplate, "and your heart."

Lydia took another deep breath and closed her eyes, pushing outwards with every sense. She tried to reach outside herself. She felt nothing. But… as she waited she became aware of a sense of pressure that weighed on the outer edge of her awareness. She opened her eyes, her brow wrinkled in thought, to find Kratos looking at her intently. She cleared her throat, "There is… something. I don't have the words to describe it. But something is out there. Almost a weight, but that's too physical a term." She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, searching for words to express what she had felt.

Kratos nodded slowly, "Good. Be aware. Trust your instincts." He looked off again into the trees, quiet again for a moment. "Today. Tell the men to be ready. We will spill blood this day." Lydia nodded, no doubt in her mind. Though he spoke softly his pronouncement seemed to hang in the air like the tolling of a graveyard bell. Lydia immediately went through the camp, waking the men softly and telling to get their gear together quickly. Soon enough, they were assembled together, armed and ready.

Kratos stepped up to the head of the group. "We continue our journey. But we will do battle today. Be ready." Lydia called out the marching order and named the forward and trailing scouts. They set off towards to the foothills, an understandably tense and serious mood hanging over the company at the earlier pronouncement, but also with an air of excitement. They were finely trained soldiers; battle was their choice and calling.

They continued westward up to the foothills and soon enough, entered the sparse pine woods that covered the low hills and steeper slopes leading up into the mountain range and to the Throat of the World. Kratos led them up to the edge of the mountains and then turned their course northward, towards the main pass and path back into Whiterun Hold.

Kratos walked along at the rear of the main column, leaving Lydia to see to the van. He glanced up at the sun, it was early afternoon, and they had been on their northerly heading for perhaps an hour. Kratos' brows drew together as he felt it, the familiar stillness before a battle. "Lydia, to me." Lydia looked back at Kratos, turned to the man behind and waved at him to carry on the path and then slowed dropping back down the column.

When she reached him, Kratos was looking over his shoulder behind them, staring down the path from which they had come. Lydia shot him a quizzical look, "What is it, my tha–" She cut off as Eyja, the rear scout, burst from the bushes making for the main column. Lydia's brows rose as she looked over at Kratos, who was waving Eyja over.

"Report." Kratos rumbled as the scout approached. Eyja slowed, stowing her bow on her back and saluted, raising her fist to her heart as she breathed heavily.

"Thane, housecarl. We are being pursued by a group of perhaps 40 stormcloaks. They are traveling hard and are not far behind. I do not know their intentions but they are well armed and clearly soldiers."

Lydia turned to Kratos, "The wounded are largely recovered. We could push and perhaps stay ahead of them to the border."

Kratos shook his head. "No. We push until we reach a defensive position. Then we do what we must. Call back the forward scout." Lydia nodded and set off immediately up the line to dispatch one of the men. Kratos waited for a few minutes for the scout to regain her breath before continuing, "What more can you tell me?"

Eyja closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Stormcloak uniforms. Clearly tracking us. They have some competent trackers. I have done some work to obscure our trail. I do not think it likely that they came across our trail and then decided to investigate. They are too many and too set on us, especially given our heading and proximity to the border." She was quiet for a moment as they marched, before continuing, "I believe you are being hunted, my thane. Perhaps you made a larger impression in Windhelm than we originally thought."

Kratos shrugged slightly and let out a small rumble, "They should be cautious. If you go hunting something, you may catch it." A razor sharp grin flashed across the scout's face, giving her a feral aspect momentarily. They both looked up as Lydia and the forward scout returned.

Lydia saluted as she returned, "My thane, we have good news." She gestured to the scout to continue.

He saluted as well, falling in beside them, "Thane, not far ahead there is rock slide, and beyond that there is an area where they underlying stone of the mountain comes through. There is hill leading to sheer rock above and only two viable paths up, one over the very difficult terrain of the slide."

Kratos nodded along with his words. "Good. Go. Lead the column there." The man saluted once more and set off to the front of the column, Eyja on his heels. Kratos' eyes flicked over, noticing the troubled expression on Lydia's face. "Speak, girl."

She hesitated briefly, "That terrain would defend us but also trap us. They could wait us out."

Kratos nodded, "True. But this is no war. They have no supply line. They will have no more supplies than we do." He shrugged, "And I will break their line if need be."

Lydia let out a surprised chuckle at that, "You change the dynamic of the battlefield, don't you?"

He nodded, "We do."

Lydia smiled, "Then we face them here." Kratos merely let out a grunt of assent. They both fell silent as they followed along at the end of the column being led by the two scouts. Soon enough they came across the rockslide and the hill that the scout had described.

Once they had arrived at the top Kratos turned to the men, "Eat lightly and drink. Rest. They will be upon us soon." Kratos went to stand at the top of the only clear approach to the hill and waited, looking out at the land and woods below. Lydia joined him, a silent shadow one step behind his right shoulder.

A stormcloak scout emerged from the woods and froze when he saw them. He slowly stepped back into the trees and Kratos let out a derisive snort, "Sloppy." He turned slightly to look back at Lydia, who stepped up level with him.

She nodded, "They will be here soon." True to her word the stormcloaks arrived shortly thereafter. They made no attempt at stealth but filed out of the woods and formed up at the base of the hill, a solid block of 40 soldiers with their officer standing in front. Silence reigned for a moment as Kratos and Lydia looked down at the stormcloaks, their soldiers standing in stoic ranks behind them. Lydia turned to the company and with her voice pitched low delivered her orders, "Five and five, rear rank bows, shields front. Keep them on the slope." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Kratos nodding along.

A cool wind stirred the branches of the nearby firs as the two armed groups faced each other in silence, the whole scene a frozen tableau. After another few moments the stormcloak officer stepped forward, he was dressed in the standard stormcloak uniform of leather and chain armor with a blue tabard. He stood in a parade rest and called up the hill, "I would speak with Thane Kratos of Whiterun! By your leave I will approach with two of my men."

The words hung in the air for a moment before Kratos gravelly voice reverberated across the intervening space, "Come." The officer turned and sharply gestured to two of the men in the company. They joined the officer and the three trudged up the hill to Kratos, Lydia and their company.

The officer raised a hand in greeting as he approached, "Hail, I am Captain Darynn of Windhelm. I bring a request from Jarl Ulfrich that you attend him immediately in Windhelm." He paused meaningfully, "We are to escort you there." The captain looked as if he were about to say more but he was interrupted by Kratos' snort.

Kratos' lip curled as if he smelled something distasteful. "You bring an armed company of 40 soldiers to convey a request."

The captain nodded, "Yes, thane. Jarl Ulfrich is – "

"No."

He blinked, surprised at the abrupt declaration. "You mean–"

"Your jarl is a fool. I deny his request." Kratos crossed his arms and looked down at the man who seemed diminutive in his shadow.

The captain's face clouded with anger and the men accompanying him were clearly stunned by Kratos' words. He glared up at Kratos, "We are here to escort you to the jarl. And we will. We have 40 soldiers." His voice had risen in volume and he cast a meaningful look at Kratos' greatly outnumbered company.

Kratos let out the type of grunt that Lydia had come to associate with his sense of humor, if one could call it that, before answering, "No. You have 40 men. I have 10 soldiers."

The captain scoffed, "And you would waste their lives so freely? You are outnumbered. They will die here."

Kratos turned slightly to his soldiers, "Will you follow me?"

"Yes, thane!" came the resounding answer.

"Would I lead you to defeat?"

"No, thane!"

Kratos turned back to the stormcloak captain, "Go back to your men. Go home. We have no quarrel." His face darkened and he took a step toward the captain, "Or come up this hill. I will make your wives widows and your children orphans." The captain swallowed heavily at that but stood his ground. No mean feat in the face of pale behemoth that stood before him.

He shook his head, "I wish that you would see reason, thane."

Kratos only shrugged, "I have. I have not followed you seeking blood. You choose what happens now." The captain sighed and turned to go down the hill, his men following quickly on his heels. When they had gone, Kratos turned to his soldiers, "Your greatest shield and your greatest weapon is the soldier standing beside you. Fight as one. Victory is ours to lose."

Lydia then raised her right fist into the air and the rest of the company followed suit. They all then struck their breastplates twice in rapid succession, letting out a great shout with each blow. Lydia retrieved a small bowl from her pack and quickly mixed their signature deep red warpaint. She went down the line and each soldier dipped their fingers into the bowl before drawing a red line from their hairline, over their left eye, coming a point at their jaw. Lydia drew her own last and set aside the bowl.

Kratos drew back and gestured the company forward. They quickly formed up at the top of the path leading to the top of the hill, the front forming a shield wall across the narrow path. He watched as 30 of the stormcloaks raised their shields and began storming up the path, holding their line well. The remainder stayed below and began to loose arrows at the defenders. Kratos waited for the first shaft to fall, striking one of his soldier's shields, before commanding his own archers to respond in kind.

Arrows flew between the two groups, Kratos' troops faired better at this stage, his archers hiding behind the shields of his men who could cover themselves far more effectively than the stormcloaks trying to come up the hill. Only a couple of the stormcloaks fell to arrows as they stumbled on the difficult terrain, giving the Kratos' archers opportunity. Kratos stood impassively glaring down at the approaching enemies, occasionally smashing an arrow from the sky with the Leviathan Axe. Seeing that contact would be coming soon, Kratos abandoned his vigil and made his way over to the rockslide.

The arrows coming up from below slowed as the main party of stormcloaks neared the small shield wall, the close conditions making it difficult to avoid hitting their own soldiers. The archers of both sides seized their other weapons and moved to join the fray now that they could not have certainty of not hitting their own. The stormcloaks let out a yell and began to run, gaining to momentum to crash into the shield wall, before a large stone, roughly the size of a grown man were he to be curled up, soared over the defenders and smashed into the center of their charge, bowling over several men and cancelling all of their momentum.

"Forward!" came the bellowed command from behind, and the defenders dashed forward in a brief counter charge, moving in lock step, crashing into the now disorganized formation. Lydia watched as the battle was joined, keeping her eyes open for any wavering in their formation requiring reinforcement. She glanced aside to see Kratos dusting off his hands before drawing the Leviathan Axe from his back once more.

The small battle was furious and the foothills rang with the discordant clash of steel, enraged shouts, cries of pain and the falling of bodies. Several of Kratos' men were wounded but all continued to fight, rotating out smoothly to bind wounds when they had the opportunity. The stormcloaks did not fair so well and despite being true sons of Skyrim, many of them lay bleeding into the dust and rock of the hillside.

Movement off to the right caught Kratos' attention and he turned to see several stormcloaks making the slow and much more laborious climb over the treacherous rockslide to attempt to get above the company and attack from behind. With a grunt Kratos spun and hurled his axe. It spun as it rocketed through the air before slamming deep into the side of a shocked stormcloak. The man was blasted from his feet and tumbled down the boulder-lined slope. He let out another final cry, when the now bloody axe wrenched itself from his body and soared through the air back to Kratos' outstretched hand. The deceleration of the axe when it slapped into his palm threw a spray of blood across his face and chest.

The stormcloaks clambering across the slide had frozen in shock on seeing the Leviathan Axe fly back its master like a hunting hawk returning to its lord. The still moment was shattered when Kratos hurled the axe again, splitting another skull. The remaining men fled for cover seeing another one of their number's body cast ruined down amongst the stones.

Lydia noted the approach as well, "Eyja! Algar! Arrows right! Go… NOW!" The two soldiers dropped back out of the formation without hesitation and ran to take up their bows again. A stormcloak rushed at the gap created, his shield a bulwark before him, only to be blasted back when Lydia's plate boot smashed into him with preternatural force. Lydia stepped into the gap, deftly ducking a swing from another stormcloak and with a twist of her body throwing all of that force into a punch with the edge of her shield aimed at the man's knee. He fell back screaming, attempting to clutch at his pulped joint only to be silenced when her blade whipped across his face. Lydia's momentum carried her forward and with a blisteringly fast exchange, knocked another foe's shield aside and ran him through. His blood gushed over her sword hand, staining it crimson.

"Spartans! Forward!" came a familiar roar that cut across the battle with crystal clarity. The line formation extended becoming a wedge in the advance, with Lydia leading it as its bloody edge. The command put new life into the soldiers and the moved forward with renewed ferocity, cutting down the less disciplined and worse trained stormcloak soldiers.

Kratos surveyed the skirmish coolly. The two archers had dispatched the remaining flankers and stopped any others from having ideas of repeating it. Lydia was showing what she had learned under his tutelage at the front, her every move demonstrating economy of motion and grace, spilling blood at every turn. He watched the stormcloak 'formation', he snorted quietly to himself, if you could call it that at this point, waver before breaking completely. His troops cut into the routing stormcloaks, felling even more before he called a halt.

Lydia stood at the front of the line, blood dripping from her blade, her breathing easy, watching them run. Between the last push, those who fell in the rout and the archers efforts there couldn't have been more than six or seven men who actually made it away into the safety of the trees. She looked up as a hand fell on her shoulder. She saw the edges of Kratos' eyes wrinkle slightly as he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and she a broad grin broke across her face. Kratos stepped out in front his soldiers and turned to face them.

He was silent for a moment, examining them. They all stood, panting, gasping and bloody. Most sported a variety of minor wounds and contusions. He gave the sight a slow nod, "You have done well." His voice rose and he thrust a hand into the air, "This is your victory! I name you Spartans, for so you have fought!" Lydia could see the soldiers – Spartans – swell with pride. She let out a yell and raised her sword to the sky, the others roared their own agreement and followed suit.

Kratos watched as they celebrated and saw a scarlet trickle snake down Lydia's wrist from the blood on her blade and hand as she held them aloft in victory.


It was a rather quaint town in Aranea's opinion, but clearly growing extraordinarily quickly. There were signs of new construction everywhere. She smiled as she walked down the central street surveying the hustle and bustle of the community. She drew a few curious glances from the townspeople as she went. Aranea was not the only dunmer that she had seen, but the town was certainly and unsurprisingly predominantly nord. Perhaps it was instead her robes?

She clucked her tongue, somewhat chagrined. Of course it was her robes. Nords by and large had a very suspicious attitude to those who studied the arcane and her blue grey robes picked her out as such a one. She had evidently spent too long in the mountains secluded from the rest of the world if she had forgotten such a thing. It was rather exciting to be amongst others again. Her extended seclusion had made the world fresh again, despite her long life. She was also intrigued to see the reason why she had made this journey.

Aranea smiled up at the sky. How appropriate. It was the grey twilight hour, the sun had gone down, but its light had not abandoned the sky. She climbed the steps of the longhouse in the deepening dusk and then through the open door into the entry hall. She looked about at the rather austere and simple furnishings. Very interesting. "May I help you?" Aranea turned to see a rather nondescript and unremarkable man standing in one of the doorways.

She nodded in her voluminous hood, "I hope so. I have come to see the thane."

Thomas looked her up and with a brow cocked in question, "What is your business with Thane Kratos?"

Aranea smiled. "I am here to be his court mage."


AN: This took longer to get out than I wanted to. Work has been crazy. Hope it was worth the wait!

A big thanks to all of those who have reviewed so far! I love to hear your feedback. Please take a moment to leave a comment. I do appreciate hearing from you.

Until next time.