Arc 3—Uncivil War—Chapter 13:

Going across country and avoiding everything we could on the roads, we made it to Solitude by late afternoon of the third day. I gave my name as Bjorn at the gate, and Serana used the name Sewainie. We took a room together at The Winking Skeever. Serana stayed in the room that evening when I ventured out to make my way to Castle Dour.

"Hate to say it but I'm here to enlist," I said to the guard who challenged me.

"Little late for that tonight," he replied. "Come back in the morning. Sure the recruiters will be happy to find a place for you then."

"No. This was a personal invitation from General Tullius. You better send word to him right now if you don't want to be mucking latrines for the rest of your enlistment."

He glared at me but called out, "Grendt, got one who claims the general's given him a personal invite."

"What's the name, son?" asked the older guard who approached.

"Aerik. He'll know who you're talking about."

Minutes later, I was ushered in front of the general.

"You'll be joining us, I take it?"

"Perhaps," I replied. "We need to talk about where we're going with this and what's going to happen when it's done."

"You seem to be ahead of yourself. The Empire doesn't make deals."

I laughed. "And the general doesn't have a sense of humor. Of course the Empire makes deals. All the time, though they couch such deals in flowery terms to make it look like they've gotten the deal while their enemy is getting a pittance in return. I spent half of my life in Cyrodiil and saw how things work, remember? In this case, you want me and my help so you can do your little incursion into the Khadakkan Hills to allow you to put a damper on the Thalmors' plans and so you can eliminate the threat of Ulfric Stormcloak. I want my land at peace and our people to quit being killed so we can worship the Nine—yes, Nine, not Eight—as we please without worrying about Thalmor thugs breaking down the door to haul us away. Let's work together so we'll both get most of what we want for the good of both sides."

"So how do you propose we do this?" he asked with an amused look on his face. Generals are in the business of telling, not asking, so I suspected he was expecting me to be surprised and confused at his invitation so he could move in and take charge.

That wasn't my plan. With a smile, I reached into my pouch and pulled out some paper. "Funny you should ask, General. Here's a letter that outlines my proposal. Yes, there are two copies, one for you and one for me. We'll mark any changes as we go and we'll both sign when we're done. Now, let's get started."

~ESV~

It was actually easier than I figured, but, in truth, we both wanted approximately the same thing; he hadn't even blinked about the pardon for Angi. There were two points that took a while, but in the end, we made the minor modifications, initialed them and signed the overall agreement, and then turned to the map of Skyrim showing the distribution of troops.

"I have a plan that will allow us to retake the lost Holds and drive Ulfric back," said the general. "It's rather classical military strategy, very complicated, but—"

I pointed at the map. "This, this, and there," I said. "Take them and provide the right opposition and Ulfric will have no choice but for his troops to fall back into the eastern part of The Pale and, possibly, all the way into Eastmarch."

He nodded slowly. "Go on."

"You'll need two forces, one opposing here to keep him occupied, while the second, a smaller force, takes these positions to use as the anvil. If he fails to fall back, your primary force, the hammer, drives him back against the anvil, in effect, crushing him."

General Tullius smiled. "Well, maybe it's not that complicated after all."

He showed me a few minor issues with my plan, which I'd worked out with some input from Lydia and Vilkas on Angi's table a few days earlier, but the final plan was essentially what I'd suggested. We worked out the timeline and assignments and were finished well before midnight, though I noted that he didn't tell me where I fit into all of it.

"Lady Dreanna is in a room upstairs. Perhaps you'll wish to join her tonight?"

I shook my head. "I'll see her before I depart, but it's quite late so I wouldn't want to disturb her tonight."

"As you wish," he agreed, again surprised at my actions. "You have other plans for tonight?"

"General, I've been on the road and haven't slept well in the past several nights. I've rented the best room at The Winking Skeever and I plan to sleep."

~ESV~

Dre was surprised the next morning when her servant announced me, better rested and much cleaner than I'd been in a week. Not happy about the surprise, she shouted at the girl to tell me to come back in an hour when she was dressed. The flustered servant girl had tears streaming down her cheeks when she ran to stop in front of me.

"I'm sorry, mi'Lord, but Lady Dreanna—"

I picked the young lady up by her upper arms and gently set her to the side so I could pass. A single finger to my lips and a stern look frightened her into silence. She fled into what I guessed to be the boy's quarters.

Dre was sitting at her dressing table wearing a thin silk gown while looking in the mirrored glass, brushing her hair. She started when she saw me, shocked at my forwardness.

"Aerik, you frightened me!" she said. "Come back in a little—"

"Shut up, Dre," I told her. Trying to keep from staring at her breasts, visible through the thin fabric, I picked up a shawl and tossed it at her. "And cover yourself up."

Her hands went to the string tied in a bow at her throat. Untying it and pushing one side of the gown toward her shoulder, she said, "Just like you used to be. Can't take your eyes—"

I pushed her down in the seat, picked up the shawl, and wrapped it around her, covering her where she'd refused to do it on her own. "Don't you dare let that fall off," I warned her, hoping against hope that she wouldn't. I'd never smacked a woman and didn't want to start, particularly with what I had to do.

There was a defiant look in her eyes as she raised a hand to pull it away, so I took the other option. I grabbed her upper arms like I'd done with the servant girl a few minutes earlier and picked her straight up. The anger on my face was clear and she finally realized I wasn't playing as a look of fear covered her own. Lowering her back down in front of me but with her feet still a palm span off the floor, I leaned in close and growled at her, "Dreanna, quickly! Tell me his birth date! His birthday! Tell me!"

She jumped in my hands, as if trying to remember, so I squeezed her arms, a little tighter than I'd have preferred but not to the point of harm, and repeated, "His birthday! Quickly." Seeing that wasn't working, I played my last card, the one I'd hoped I wouldn't need. I sat her down on the ground and drew back my right hand as if to strike her. "Tell me!"

"The last day of Second Seed, 202!" she screamed with fear in her eyes.

I lowered my hand and released her other arm; I was practically trembling at my victory, that she hadn't called my bluff. "I'm sorry about that," I said. "I had to frighten the truth out of you, since I knew you'd have practiced the lie."

She'd lowered her head and nodded slowly. "That was the truth," she whispered.

"I know," I agreed, having done the calculations in my head far too many times in recent weeks. "He was born over nine months after I returned to Skyrim, well over ten months after our last time together. Who...?"

"After you left, I needed the money," she said, her voice still barely audible. "I thought you were going to take care of me, so I'd been spending too much, too freely. You probably remember since you stayed after me about it at the time. With you gone, I was desperate, so I found another Nord, a nice but rather plain man who needed companionship and who was willing to pay."

Giving her arms another squeeze, but gentle this time, I said, "Don't say any more and don't tell them anything about this. I'll see to it that you are returned to Bravil—"

"No, please! Not there."

"One of the lesser cities of Cyrodiil, then, where you'll be reasonably comfortable but not well off. I hope you learned your lesson well, Dre. Be thrifty and save. I'll see to it that Tullius gives you enough money to get started so you can take care of little Erick and raise him, but he's not my son and I'll not let you use him against me since I told you how I felt when I left Bravil." Forcefully, I added, "That hasn't changed."

She nodded, still looking down at her feet, as she realized that her dream of getting back together with me was over. "I'll be careful."

"When he's old enough to understand, tell him the truth—"

She was begging, tearfully, when she looked into my eyes quickly shaking her head. "No, please?"

"I don't know, Dre. The truth is best, but if you're too chickenshit to give him that, come up with something, that his father disappeared, that a dragon ate him. That he was...killed in battle. I don't know!"

She was looking at her feet again as if thinking, concentrating as she sniffled, before looking back up at me again, apparently having come up with a suitable plan to match her mindset. She nodded. "Okay. I'll do it. I know what to tell him."

"Good. Now, we have one other thing to do before I go. Ink and quill? Where do you have them?"

She looked at me questioningly, but burst into tears again when she started reading the paper I'd handed her to sign.

~ESV~

Once again, I left Dre without a hug or kiss. Not wanting to confuse the boy, I avoided seeing him again, too. General Tullius, on realizing that Dreanna might truly be in danger, agreed to send her south by ship, change her name, and hide her with suitable funds someplace in Cyrodiil. As I turned to go, he asked, "He's not your son, is he?"

With the deal struck and feeling Tullius to be an honorable man, I reached in my pouch and pulled out the paper she'd signed less than an hour earlier. He read it and nodded with a sigh. "Why are you doing all of this for her then?"

"Because, once upon a time, before I knew her well enough, I really did care for her."

He stared at me for a moment before nodding. "Good enough, Quaestor," assigning me a rank for the first time. "Report to Legate Rikke, outside. She has an important assignment for you."

It wasn't part of the plan the general and I had discussed. Instead, over the next few days, Serana and I made our way deep into The Pale on what Rikke, herself a Nord, seemed to feel was a very important mission. After listening to the description she provided, doubtless dreamed up by an idiot in Imperial Intelligence, I, as a fellow Nord, felt she was full of it. Still, as a newly minted Imperial soldier, I followed her orders anyway. With the help of a small Imperial squad, we located the old Korvanjund ruin and went inside. We traveled quietly, hoping to avoid any creatures that might have made the place their home, but a short distance in, we heard voices ahead.

"Let's move on to the next area."

Serana and I looked at each other wondering why anyone else would be there.

"Jaqueck, hang back and guard our rear. Those damn Imperials could be here sooner rather than later. The rest of you, keep searching."

Stormcloaks, and they were expecting us! And searching for something. My mind was racing as I ran through the implications. This could only mean that they were looking for the goofy crown, too. If Imperial Intelligence in Solitude had found something to allow them to work out the location of the old Nord crown, that meant there was a spy in the intelligence operation or in General Tullius' headquarters itself.

Serana was nodding when I looked back at her. She'd worked it out even quicker than I had. I slowly shook my head in frustration, but put my finger to my lips and then gave them the signal to stay. Quietly, I moved ahead.

Jaqueck probably wasn't the Stormcloaks best choice as a rear guard. He was leaning against the wall, quietly kicking a rounded pebble back and forth between his feet. With his attention on the little stone, I pitched another a few feet past him and then took care of him when he turned to look. Took care is a horrible euphemism for cutting his throat, but I couldn't let him cry out and alert the other Stormcloaks or whatever else might be waiting for us up ahead. Still, Jaqueck's name was another added with Wraeva's to my list of those that would sometimes haunt my dreams at night for years to come.

We continued following the Stormcloaks through another space or two. When they sent another soldier back to tell Jaqueck to move up closer to them, Hadvar, an Imperial soldier who'd helped me escape from Helgen years earlier, quietly slew him. It was when that man didn't return that they realized they had a problem.

"Wizard, do something!" commanded the lead Stormcloak.

Thinking he'd throw a fireball into our chamber, I motioned for everyone to take cover, but was surprised when I heard him say, "There are at least six people in the area behind us. We can fight them, if you wish, but I must warn you, if the Dragonborn is indeed coming with them, perhaps a negotiation would be our best bet. He may have shot me, but he is a fair man and even forced the Imperials to institute a parole system.

"Snivel-skin! Traitor! If you suggest such a thing again, I'll gut you myself."

Seeing how the wizard had somehow detected us, I decided to reinforce the man's point. "Stormcloak commander! You are outnumbered and cut off. Surrender and you'll be taken prisoner in the parole system so you can help rebuild Skyrim when the war ends. Resist and die now. Five. Four..."

The Stormcloak commander was a stubborn man and he died that day as a result. Three of his men surrendered, as did the wizard, who I'd last seen falling down in the bow of the Nord ship near Solitude; he still wore a wrap around his knee and walked with a staff. We lost one soldier in the fight and left two more behind as guards while the rest of us moved on into the Crypt. There, we ran into our true enemy, a draughr deathlord, the guardian of the ugly crown sitting on its head.

I've never been one to care for crowns, though I must admit, I'd never seen one in person until I returned to Skyrim a few years ago. They're pretentious and generally look extremely uncomfortable. Even Elisif's rather elegant circlet crown would probably give me a headache if, assuming it was sized correctly for my head, I were to wear it for long periods like she's required to do. That, I suddenly realized, might actually be the reason Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone usually dispensed with wearing her crown of office rather than Morthal being such a small keep as I'd previously suspected.

The crown must have weighed heavily on the deathlord, too, as it sat on the ancient throne in that crypt. The creature's back was bent so its head was bowed low, supported by a forearm under the chin as if it had been lost in deep thoughts for hundreds of years since the crown was supposedly lost to the ages. Nodding to the others, I silently pulled out one of my enchanted dragonbone arrows, drew the bow, and let it fly. Unlike with soldiers, I had no qualms about sending these evil, undead creatures to the great beyond without them ever seeing me.

The creature let out a roar as it died, collapsing, with the crown tumbling from its head as it pitched forward.

The soldiers that accompanied us let out a yelp at our easy victory, but Serana gave me a warning look of dread as she shook her head. Sure enough, two more deathlords emerged from their stations just behind and to the sides of the throne. That was when the real fight started.

Based on the power of the one I and two Imperial soldiers were fighting, I'm glad the first had been dropped by my bow. It was fast and strong and had a powerful thu'um, sending one of the soldiers flying. He never got up again. When I finally had a straight shot that wouldn't affect any of my comrades, I returned the favor, but not before the deathlord's battleaxe had laid out my fighting partner, who absorbed just enough of the blow with his parry that he survived the encounter.

As the deathlord attempted to rise, I brought down my sword, removing its head.

Turning to Serana, Rikke, Hadvar, and the other member of our force, I found that Hadvar and the legionnaire were wounded and down. Still, between Serana's spells and Rikke's attacks, they succeeded in bringing down their foe before I could join them. After binding wounds and casting healing hands on the worst of the wounded, the others set about gathering the crown and the deathlords' treasures while I answered that mystical call of power nearby.

~ESV~

"General, they knew we were coming," I told Tullius when I handed him the crown on our return to Solitude. "We brought the prisoners we took back with us so you can question them and to keep them from reporting our raid—"

"That, Quaestor, is why we hadn't been taking prisoners until your blasted parole stunt." With his look, I wasn't sure if he was more upset about the traitor in his midst or my having introduced a thorn in the side of his war. I had no time to wonder further, for he continued his rant. "We've captured almost two hundred of them since then, filled out the papers, and, with their supposed 'word of honor,' sent them on their way. They're probably back with their blasted Stormcloak units laughing their asses off at us by now."

Quietly, I asked, "How many have been recaptured in a combat setting, General?"

He looked at me for a few moments as he considered the question. "Well...none so far."

"Tell our men to keep their noses clean if they're captured and abide by the same terms, and that number shouldn't change. There is honor in Skyrim, if we ourselves also exhibit it."

He scowled at me but then nodded with reluctance. In a much lower voice matching my own, he said, "Okay, so you think we have a spy in our midst?"

"Somewhere, General. They knew we were coming and what we were seeking. If it's as important as your intelligence people think, it would have been a big loss."

"We're lucky you got there when you did, then. We'll look into it. For now, we've been shifting our men and Ulfric's been gathering more of his forces for a possible attack on Whiterun. If he can take it, there's little to stop him him from rolling into Falkreath, and possibly, making another attempt on Morthal. Losing those holds will make winning this war much more difficult for us."

"How are you stopping them?"

"We," he said with heavy emphasis, "have tried to consolidate our forces to counter him at Whiterun, but he has the advantage of terrain and territory that he has to defend."

"So...you're sending me to Whiterun to resist him?"

"That was my original thought, but I've been convinced that you're needed working on the plan we discussed instead. I believe it will give us what we want and may break Ulfric's back. Your new commander is waiting for you outside. You're now attached to his special operations group, so he'll brief you with the specifics."

~ESV~

While I'd been involved in a number of fights and in a couple of battles, I wasn't really a military man and had never commanded actual troops in the heat of battle. For that reason, I wasn't surprised about not being placed in charge of the new force to which Serana and I were assigned. When I walked out, what did surprise me was to find Serana chatting happily with Tribune Shondar, who'd been assigned command of the special operations group under Legate Rikke's overall command. Shondar saluted me when he saw me.

"Dragonborn, it's good to see you again and to be able to work with you once more. Mistress Serana was just telling me that she completed her trip back to Windhelm in time to ease your old man's pain. Divines be with him." Turning toward her, he added, "Mistress, I hope to be able to speak with you further when we've concluded this assignment successfully."

She gave him a little smile and a nod, leading Shondar to practically beam before he turned back to me. "Come, we have much to do and our timeline is short."

On entering a briefing room in the depths of Castle Dour and far away from prying ears, I saw that Shondar's force had been significantly reinforced since I last saw them. A number of his troops had recovered from the wounds and rejoined him, while others, apparently battle-hardened warriors, had been transferred in from other outfits. Altogether, I counted fifty soldiers, not counting Tribune Shondar, the sergeant, Serana, and me.

Once the sergeant established order, Shondar walked up to the blackboard in front of our force. He flipped it over to reveal a map of the southern Pale and northern Whiterun Hold sketched on the board.

With his pointer, he tapped several spots on the map. "We're in charge of taking all three of these positions, with a small squad taking over each to hold it after we've wiped out the resistance. Legate Rikke will be bringing up more reinforcements to fortify them against attack from the south, but her force will be a half day behind."

This, I thought, looked very similar to the first part of what I'd discussed with General Tullius, but one of the troopers stood at attention, interrupting my thought.

"Why not have them closer?" asked the standing man.

"Too much risk of them being spotted and having the Stormcloak arm strike north to attack them. We need our secondary force arriving at Whitewatch Tower to serve as the distraction and hold them in place until Rikke's force arrives and takes over."

"Thank you, Sir!" he said as he saluted, before retaking his seat. I was silently nodding to myself. Extending what Shondar said, I could see that Tullius was using the basic plan we'd discussed.

The tribune continued. "We have to do it quickly and as quietly as we can. If they get word out that they're under attack, they'll be able to send for reinforcements, just a few miles to the south, and our squad will be wiped out in short order. We have to capture them, turn them over to the fortress keepers, and then move on to the next. One, two, three, or we'll fail at our job. Got it?"

"Got it, Sir!" the troops shouted. I noted that my half fay-friend, Corporal Sela, was shouting as enthusiastically as the rest.

~ESV~

Three Imperial ships landed us on the south bank of the channel below Yngvild Island. The holding force, which would take over for us, made their way to a small camp the Imperials were using to spy on The Pale, while our squad, wearing white cloaks and marching through the snow in the valley on the east side of the mountain range just east of Dawnstar, secretly made its way south. We stopped in the forest near our first objective, Snowpoint Beacon. We made a cold camp and Shondar agreed to allow Serana and me to move ahead to check out the beacon site.

We crept up quietly but were surprised to see no Stormcloak guards posted at the entrance. Wondering if they might have abandoned it entirely, we made our way forward and inside. There, we crept from room to room but encountered no one for a while until we heard two voices ahead. Peeking into the room, we saw they were playing cards but it was their discussion that I recalled best. They were quietly discussing their next raid and debating when they should make their move against the bandit chieftain, who they felt had been cheating them.

"He even kept that woman and wouldn't share her," griped the one on the right. "I just wanted to—"

The words he said and the way he wished to defile her sickened me. I slipped up behind him and finished him off before he knew what was happening. I must have looked similar to a specter, for the other bandit, who was balancing on the back two legs of his chair, fell over backward in surprise, and Serana took care of him. Neither was able to shout out to alert the chieftain or any others, so we continued on our search.

We ran into no one else until we found the bandit chief on the top floor. He must have already suspected that his men were planning to make a move against him because we heard a little bell ring as we were nearing the top of the stairs. I found the string after that, and was pointing it out to Serana when I heard him call out, "Comin' to take me, eh? Well, come an' get me, you pissants! Never had such a lousy crew as the two of you, so killin' ya' won't be much of a loss!"

He fired the crossbow at me as I stepped into the doorway, but I used a swipe of my sword to deflect the bolt so that it just missed me.

"You're not Hoff," he growled as he picked up the sword resting against the table next to him.

Seeing the woman, naked, abused, and still chained to the bed despite having been dead for quite some time, I growled back at him. "No, I'm not Hoff. I am Death, come for you."

~ESV~

With the Beacon taken, we moved on to Fort Fellhammer, just a couple of miles west. Our troops were tired, but Tribune Shondar knew that speed was of the essence, so they took positions while, Serana, Corporal Sela, three other soldiers, and I quietly slipped forward to the wall. The Imperial spies had done this part of their homework surprisingly well following the Stormcloaks' taking of the fort a few weeks before, so they knew a weak point in the wall where Sela and the other soldiers boosted me up and I was able to pull myself up. They then did the same with Serana, who was able to reach up and take my hand so I could pull her up to the walk.

We moved around along the rampart and made our way to the front entrance. We surprised and silently killed the guards there before opening the gate. Our troops slipped in and within minutes, Fort Fellhammer was also ours.

~ESV~

With the weather, the darkness, and the few wounds suffered in the Battle of Fort Fellhammer, we lost time traveling to Fort Dunstad, a few miles to the southwest of the first fort. It was less than two hours before dawn when we reached the fort, and I had my doubts as to whether we could complete our work in time.

Unlike Fellhammer, Dunstad had actually been used as a military fort for years. I'd even briefly visited it in the days leading up to meeting Serana; I recalled it as being in decent shape and well armed. However, our sources told us that Fort Dunstad was now undermanned but that the Stormcloaks didn't feel that was a big issue since their army was just a few miles to the south and since it was many miles across The Pale to the nearest operational Imperial force. With that situation, the old fort was considered to be behind the lines, so the troops within the fort weren't on high alert.

Using some armor taken from prisoners captured at Fort Fellhammer, Serana, Sela, and I, along with five other soldiers, approached the main gate carrying torches as if we were a real Stormcloak band. We'd gotten the password of the day from one of the soldiers at Fellhammer and could only hope he'd told us the truth.

"Message from General Stone-Fist," I called to the guard above the gate. Unfortunately, Imperial Intelligence, living up to its name, hadn't discovered the name of the Stormcloak commander in the fort.

The guard looked down and, in as low a voice as he felt reasonable, asked, "Password from the general?"

"Salamander. Nine. Bridge," I called in a similar tone.

He nodded and turned down, apparently at someone below, "Open the grate."

"Shields!" I said just a moment before we heard the sound of slots opening and four crossbow bolts being fired toward us. The password was wrong and, out in the open far from cover, we were trapped!

~ESV~