Jul

Lucius

I yawned as I shrugged my pack onto my shoulder. "How far is Solitude, now?" I asked Lydia, who was staring intently at the map in her hands. She rolled the parchment adorned with a painting of Skyrim, and returned it to her pack. "We need to get to Tullius before midday if we want to head out to Ustengrav before nightfall."

Lydia looked up at the morning sky, then returned her attention to me. "We'll get to Solitude long before midday, Thane," she explained. She stretched her arms to the sky and cracked her neck. "Perhaps we could rent rooms at the local tavern? Sleeping on the floor is -"

"I know," I cut in. I looked up at the sky. "We need to get moving. Come on." I trudged onward, knowing Lydia would be close behind. We walked, occasionally joking and laughing together. Lydia had become, over the previous days, a good friend.

And a teacher. "I'm telling you, if you just slightly loosen the armor you're wearing, it will fit better. You're wheezing with every step," she said as we walked. I chuckled lightly and did as she said. My hands slid across my Dwemer armor and loosened the fasteners binding it to my body. Air rushed deeper into my lungs with every breath, and the weight of the metal seemed less upon my shoulders. Lydia must have seen the change in my step, because she laughed next to me. "Told you."

"Thanks," I said with a nod. I took a deep breath and we continued walking, each keeping an eye out for any sign of trouble. Eventually we neared the gates of Solitude.

"Big doors... think they're compensating for anything?" I joked.

"Thane," Lydia rebuked. I grinned sheepishly and she shook her head. She was very... serious. Very serious. She shook her head again, and we waited for the doors to open like that.

The first thing I noticed upon entering Solitude was that it was, well, huge. Even compared to Whiterun the city was a giant, with shops and homes as far as the eye could see. It almost seemed as if everyone was gathered near the gate; I followed the crowd's collective gaze to see what they were watching and felt my breath catch. "An execution?" I hissed to Lydia, who was watching the scene with contained interest. Whispers and jeers ran through the crowd, directed at the man in prisoner's rags on the chopping block. "What's going on here?"

As if he heard me, the guard on the stage – a tall, raven haired Nord in red city-guard uniform – began to shout the crimes of the man. "Roggvir. You helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape this city after he murdered High King Torygg. By opening that gate for Ulfric you betrayed the people of Solitude," he shouted while reading from a written announcement.

"Traitor!" one of the crowd screamed.

"He doesn't deserve to speak!" another shouted.

Finally, the man about to die attempted to defend himself. "There was no murder!" he argued. "Ulfric challenged Torygg. He beat the High King in fair combat!"

"Liar!" a woman screamed angrily. A rotten vegetable flew through the air and collided with the man.

"Hey!" I shouted. No one turned to listen. "Hey don't throw things at him!"

That got everyone's attention. "Do you sympathize with this rebel!?" one of the men in the crowd shouted. A shudder ran through the air, and the stances of all present seemed to become incredibly hostile. Even the guard who gazed at me from the executioner's stage held fire in his eyes.

"Thane..." Lydia hissed cautiously. Her hand was lightly placed on the hilt of her saber, ready to defend me at a moment's notice.

"He's going to die – let it be with some Nord dignity," I said in a firm voice. The crowd remained as it was, ready to tear me apart.

Finally, a voice came to my defense. "He's right," the captain shouted. The crowd turned incredulously to the raven-haired man, who nodded. "A Nord death is his right."

The prisoner – Roggvir – stared at me with a combination of thanks and confusion in his eyes. I suppose that he wondered in his final moments, as his head was placed on the chopping block, why an Imperial-blood outsider would stand up for him. Would defend his dignity despite being a traitor. As the headsmen's ax rushed downward, Roggvir's last words were "On this day... I go to Sovngarde."

Then he was no more. The crowd dispersed, and Roggvir's body was taken away for burial by the priest of Arkay. "That was a poor decision, Thane," Lydia stated. I turned to her to listen to the further chastising. "You do not understand our ways."

"Perhaps he knows them better than most of us even do," another voice said. Lydia and I both turned to see a woman standing, sad and defeated, near us. "Hello, I'm Greta. Rogg – Roggvir's sister."

I breathed in sharply. "I'm – I'm sorry you had to see that."

The woman nodded sadly. "Aye... Thank you for standing up for him. I suppose that, like Roggvir, you're a Nord at heart. It's hard for many of the people here to understand. I think Aldis understands. I don't think I could have stayed here if anyone else had..." She stopped for a moment, the ghost of her memories running through her eyes."I... I think I need to stop talking now..."

I nodded. "If you ever need any help when I'm around, just ask," I told her. Greta smiled gratefully and nodded, then walked away wordlessly.

"That was more than many would offer, Thane," Lydia noted. I turned to her quizzically. "I believe you helped her as only a good man could."

My eyes hardened and I turned away from Lydia. We'd gone over this before. "I can tell you from experience, Lydia, I'm not a good man."

"Perhaps that isn't yours to judge," came a voice with an accent of a Nord who spent much time in the presence of Imperials. A woman in full Imperial regalia walked into my field of vision next to Lydia. Her hair was dirty blonde, and she was almost as tall as me. Her blue eyes carried the harshness of reality painfully and the world seemed to rest on her shoulders. "Do you mind if we talk alone."

I looked over at Lydia. "Go get us some food at the tavern – I'll be right in," I said. My housecarl looked over at the commanding woman worriedly, then back to me. I nodded at her and she walked away respectfully.

I looked over at the Imperial armored woman again. "That wasn't a request."

"That wasn't a question," she noted back. She looked up at the clear, blue sky. "Why did you stand up for Roggvir?"

I shrugged in response. "He did what he thought was right – he may have been a traitor, but if more people acted like him the Dominion would never have existed."

"A good view," the woman said as she returned her gaze to mine. Whether her words were in response to what I had said, or the clarity of sky, I am still somewhat unsure. "Legate Rikke." She held her hand outstretched.

I grasped it. "Lucius," I said. I noticed a chain of gold running down her armor's shoulder. "I take it you work with General Tullius."

She looked down at her shoulder and let go of my hand. "Good eye," she said. She crossed her arms. "I'm his second – I handle special recruitment cases and head up the more localized operations."

"Recruiting?" I asked with a slight chuckle. "What a coincidence – I came to join."

She considered me quietly. "I'm going to give you a test."

A little annoyed, I insisted, "I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt it. But still... a test," Legate Rikke said. She uncrossed and recrossed her arms with the positions of her arms reversed. She stared at me, waiting for me to respond.

"I – fine. What kind of test?"

The Legate smiled somewhat sardonically. "The kind that evaluates your usefulness during... duress. I'm sending you to clear out Fort Hraagstad. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpse."

"That was... indelicately put," I noted.

"You want to be a soldier – it's an indelicate job," she responded sternly. I laughed boisterously in agreement, and her eyes softened. "Come up to Castle Dour when you're finished; General Tullius will want to meet you and administer the Imperial Oath."

I saluted. "Ma'am." This elicited a soft smile from the woman. She saluted back, and walked away. My stomach grumbled angrily. "Fine – I'll get some food." I walked into the Winking Skeever to meet with Lydia so we could eat and head out to Ustengrav.

Jul

Lucius

Hours later, Lydia and I crept through the dank deeps of Ustengrav Barrow. My saber weakly collided with magically reanimated skeletons that guarded the gate into the next region of the barrow; the exertion of taking the Word from its wall was still relatively new to me and took a great deal of energy I was not ready for. Still, however, the skeleton fell apart at the slightest touch of my enchanted sword. I turned to attack one of the undead behind me, but found I was too late – the creature's chattering teeth echoed a death knell as its great-sword rushed towards me and my doom. Lydia was barely able to come to my aid in time.

My housecarl's shield caught the edge of the blade as it rushed towards me, and her other arm shoved me out of the way. She then twisted her sword into a backhand stance and lashed out with a swinging arm at the skeletal undead. The bones chattered their last and crumbled to the ground, dead once more. Lydia swung her sword around again and decapitated another incoming skeleton – the last one. "You need to be more careful, Thane," she chastised me. I coughed in response, and gratefully accepted her outstretched hand. "The way the Walls affect you... are you sure they are safe?"

I sighed. "They're powerful," I responded as I sheathed my blade and walked down to a trio of standing stones. "That power is virtually unknown – and thus useful against those who would threaten me. The Thalmor especially, even with their knowledge of arcane and powerful Magicks."

Lydia shook her head, but remained quiet. She knew of my fervent belief that the fallout of the Civil War would be a war for continental supremacy between the Dominion and the Empire. "Returning Skyrim to Imperial hands would only serve to strengthen the Empire for what is coming," I stated. Lydia shrugged and made a non-committal noise.

We neared the ceremonial stones in the center of the room, which seemed to be the key to opening a trio of gates at the end of the room. As I had learned shortly before our battle with the skeletons, each stone corresponded with the opening of one – and only one – gate. Each stone was activated for a few moments by interaction with a human – or, rather, me. Lydia's presence did little to awaken the Magick burned into the stones that caused them to glow and the metal gates to fly open in succession. I walked from the first stone to the last, watching each gate open for a few moments before slamming shut. I walked backwards, watching the gates again rise and fall. I ran forward, watching as, for a brief moment, the three gates were opened in unison. Before I could reach the first gate, even, the way closed to me. I walked back to Lydia and considered my options.

I slid my pack off and held it out to Lydia. "Can you hold this for me? Just for a moment?" I implored.

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed. Exasperatedly, she said, "I am sworn to carry your burdens."

I sighed as she took the pack from me. She was... snarky, at times. I turned around and positioned myself in the center of a straight path to the gates. Then I took off running, hoping the other Word that the Greybeards had taught me would help me solve the puzzle.

Gate one opened as I ran. Then two. Three. As I passed the third stone, I breathed in deeply. "Wuld!" I shouted, and the ground fell away beneath my feet. My legs stopped moving as an unseen force propelled me forwards, beneath the shutting gate. The air rushed past my face as I flew forward, until I came to a sudden, abrupt stop. I landed on the ground without any momentum just past the first gate. The ground beneath me clicked and I looked down to see the ground was a single button. The gates all flew up and Lydia walked over to me.

"Do you want me to congratulate you?" she asked as she tossed me my pack. "Get going. Neither Rikke nor the Greybeards will wait forever."

I sighed and walked further into the tomb. "Always so serious, Lydia," I remarked. I threw my pack over my shoulders and drew my sword. I walked forward and Lydia followed close behind, weapons ready. Left, right, left, right. The monotony of walking was comfortable, and something I had taken comfort in for years. There was more purpose in it than running, yet also deliberation. It was easy to lose one's self in the action, which was why I barely stopped myself from walking into a wall of fire as the ground clicked again. I lifted my foot from the tile, and the fire disappeared.

"For wanting the Dragonborn to get in here, the Greybeards left a lot of traps to keep you out," Lydia remarked as we stared at the fire trap.

I nodded. "Aye," I said. I looked around and saw a ledge of stone crumbled from the cavern ceiling not far away. It covered a series of tiles and led to the next area of trap-less ground. I sheathed my sword then jumped carefully onto the stone and motioned for Lydia to follow. We carefully walked across the thin bridge, struggling to keep our balance in our heavy armor. We did, however, make it to the other end of the room and continued on.

We came across a group of spiders near the end of the room, but I made quick work of the arthropods. I wiped the monster's bodily fluids off of my sword and sheathed the blade only a few seconds after it had been unleashed. "This is getting easier," I remarked as I stared at the three spiders. Each was quite large, more so than any found during my escape from Helgen. After that, Lydia and I continued onward.

We soon entered a vast room with a single, thin stone pathway that rested between two man-made bodies of water. I took a few cautious steps into the room, and nearly jumped as massive draconic stone carvings erupted from the water gracefully. The water drenched Lydia and I as we walked across the pathway. As we reached the end, I grunted in disgust. "We're going to have to check our armor for rust now," I grumbled. I then returned my attention to taking the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller which sat in an outstretched carving of a hand atop an altar.

Or at least it should have. In its place was a simple note.

"Dragonborn-

I need to speak to you. Urgently.

Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.

-A friend"

"Ugh, by the Nine. More distractions," I groaned. I pocketed the note and motioned for Lydia to follow me to the back of the room, where I felt a secondary exit awaited.

Fahiil

Thera

I sat in a corner of the Riverwood tavern, quietly eating the meal I had ordered. It was the standard, disgusting human fare of cabbage and something else barely edible. I turned my knife over in between my fingers with a dark cloud hanging over my head. Something about Lucius, and the way he fought, was... familiar. He fought with a purposeful sloppiness that disguised his original training, and thus made it hard to completely identify. There were elements of it that echoed... well, at the time I had no clue. All I could think was that the man's use of sword and magicka simultaneously was rooted in the skills of the battlemages of both the Dominion and the Imperial province.

I shook my head. I needed to do something to distract myself. I glanced around for a good mark, and saw an old, expensive looking horn sticking out of a human's belt. I grinned to myself and nearly inhaled the rest of my mead and food. I stood quickly up and stumbled towards the woman who had the horn. I collided with her, my hand artfully taking the horn and hiding it in my pack before she could even see. "Hey, watch it!" she shouted, turning to face me.

"Sorry," I slurred. But then I saw her face and froze in surprise. "I -" My drunken mask was gone. "I have to go." I turned and moved as quickly as I could without rousing suspicion. I turned towards Whiterun as I exited the inn in the dead of night. As soon as I was outside of the town's limits, I began to sprint away.

"A Blade!" I hissed to myself as I ran. It was an issue – she could blow my cover, if she recognized me as easily as I recognized her. If she recognized me and revealed my allegiances in Skyrim, she could irreparably damage my standing with the Stormcloak leadership.

I stopped eventually and rested behind a tree, catching my breath after sprinting away for two miles. The air began to whistle, and I froze for a split second as an arrow collided with the tree above me. I drew my swords as quickly as I could and trained my superior Mer sight into the darkness. My blades danced in the air, deflecting arrow after arrow. Finally, no more came. The noise of a blade being unsheathed rang clear through the air. "Is that the best you can do... Delphine?" I asked mockingly.

The woman growled and stepped into my field of vision. She was a blonde Breton, taller than most of her kind. She wore worn leather armor covered with nicks and gashes, the defense of a survivor who had dodged her dogged hunters for decades. She stood with her Akaviri Katana gripped tightly in her right hand and her left shoulder pointed at me. "You have no idea what I can do, Thalmor."

"Oh, I think I do," I replied. I placed myself into a defensive position and steeled myself for the coming battle.

"I didn't forget our duel at Cloud Ruler Temple," Delphine replied cooly. She brought her sword into a two handed grip and stared at me. "But you haven't seen me fight in almost twenty six years."

I laughed behind my swords. "Then show me what you are capable of... as you die." I continued to chuckle sardonically, which elicited an angry response from the Blade. She rushed towards me, her blade swinging furiously towards my head. I deflected the blow easily with one of my blades and thrusted the other towards her midsection. She sidestepped the blow gracefully and whipped her katana off of my elven sword and towards my neck. I ducked, narrowly, beneath the blow and rolled to the side.

Delphine was on me even as I returned to my feet. Her single blade launched attack after furious attack, keeping me on my toes and on the defensive. I looked desperately for a hole in her defense as the blows came crashing down harder and harder. Eventually, I saw one.

I launched my entire body forward beneath her next strike so that my shoulder struck Delphine's midsection. The Blade went with the momentum of the strike and flipped easily to her feet midair. She rushed forward again and our blades became locked, a fortuitous position for a warrior with two blades. Or so I thought. Delphine lashed out with her foot and I stumbled backwards. Her katana twirled around the blade gripped in my left hand, and the saber flew through the air and into her hand. She launched another barrage of attacks, now doubly difficult to defend against. It was all I could do to even survive against her.

"I will kill you, Thalmor," the woman spat at me. I didn't respond, instead deflecting another blow with enough force to cause the woman's two-bladed strike to rebound. I turned on my heel and ran off as quickly as I could. I heard no footsteps behind me. The meaning was clear – I was defeated. I was no threat to the Blade, who could expose me and kill me at her leisure. I sheathed my remaining sword and continued running in terror towards Whiterun.