Hadvar crouched low in the rocky hillside as he and his unit remained hidden in the forest looking down to the main road below. It was near daybreak and the sun was starting to gleam across the hillside horizon, the air clean and crisp smelling of morning dew. It was a quiet day perfect for an ambush. General Tullius had been having this plan in the making for months, a lot delicate procedures had to be taken accord. From daily run through of missives by gathered intel to troops movements across the province under guard and out of sight as to not trigger off any rebel spies, all had to be done delicately and Tullius's hand alone so much that if all went according to it would be pull of effortlessly and with bound reward.

So it was no surprise Tullius wanted to see to this ambush personally what was surprising was Hadvar being in part of this. He was elated when he was assigned to Tullius's main vanguard a few months earlier taken that he rather be on the frontlines than had some boring job as in being in Solitude's complement at the city guard where most legionnaires who wasn't good enough were stationed. Hadvar bit his tongue at the thought, he shouldn't have thought of that, there were good people in Solitude's defense forces. Still being out here under the main charge of Augustus Tullius, General of the Fourth Legionary cohort and Legatus Augusti of Emperor Titus Mede II.

It was still dark out when the envoy came baring the general news of the rebels' movement. Tullius had barked order immediately sending everyone in the camp into a frenzy, now the time had finally came.

Ulfric Stormcloak former legionary officer now Jarl of Windhelm and sovereign of Eastmarch Hold had gathered his top generals in a trip to Falkreath where he would them make gathered efforts in gaining the Falkreath Jarl support. Dengeir of Stuhn the Jarl of Falkreath Hold, was know to be an ardent stormcloak supporter. And Ulfric was elated to hear that Dengeir had readied troops for his army yet wanted to discuss terms in the matter in person. And as Tullius's had thought, Ulfric's so called honor (more like arrogance) got the best of him and Ulfric had set to take his best men, leave the comfort and safety of his castle and march on to Falkreath where he would honor an old warrior turned Jarl's word. Little did Ulfric know, Dengeir had...stepped down from the role of Jarl as of recently and his nephew Siddgeir had taken his place. And Siddgeir wasn't that much of a fan of Ulfric so, he didn't mind when Tullius marched in a full garrison and decided to wait for the Jarl of Windhelm to make an appearance.

The plan was coming together, message came that Ulfric and his guards were out of the Rift Hold and were just entering Falkreath Hold, and by Tullius's calculation they would be on this very road at the very spot right for Tullius and his unit to march out.

Hadvar could feel his legs getting tired from bending them as he crouched so very low. He could the intensity of on his fellow soldier's face, the anxious for a bit of movement to come storming out. His eyes strained as he tries to look out to the distance of the road. The sun was giving off a bad glare, obscuring his sight almost, he shades his brow with his hand only to see nothing but a bare road. Hadvar lets out a soft groan, feeling annoyed and with a tinge of anxiety rolling in his stomach, the waiting was intense. He looked to one his squadmates who crouched low nearby, Duland was his name, the lad was a scout from Dragon Bridge as he remembered. "Duland!" Hadvar says in a harsh whisper, calling to him. Duland ignored only keeping his eyes forward like everyone else. "Duland! You see anything?"

Not saying anything, Duland pulled out a spyglass from his side satchel and looked out through it, he then shakes his head. "No." he whispers, "Nothing." He then gingerly tosses the spyglass over to Hadvar, Hadvar catches it smoothly. "Here." says Duland, "You'll probably get a better look from where you're standing."

Hadvar looks out the spyglass and as Duland implied he did get better vantage from where he was. The sight of the road was clearer yet to his disappointment nothing. He hoped the scout who had gave Tullius the news of Ulfric being on the move on this road was correct otherwise that poor boy was going to be flogged until the crows croaked. Hadvar scans the road with the spyglass going to towards the direction on where the Skyrim/Cyrodiil border. The spyglass was so clear, Hadvar almost thought he could make the outlines Jerral Mountains onto where Bruma was settled but he knew that it would be too far, but still they were close to Cyrodiil's border and no doubt when this over the general would have Ulfric hogtied and taken to the capital Imperial City on where he would be set for trial. Before Hadvar was ready to give Duland back his spyglass he spotted something coming towards them northbound onto where the border was a few miles off. It was unit of stormcloak rebels but a man. Hadvar zoomed the glass in to get a closer look. It was a man no doubt, a nord, light brown hair, short beard and muscled like most of his kinsmen. The man was dressed in leathers the same most mercenaries would be in and was armed with steel daggers belted to the cuirass along with a steel sword in its scabbard. A sellsword by the looks only their lot would have the gear for that, nothing of interest.

"Hey!" a sharp whisper had came from someone in his group look. The soldier pointed out, a mass of people was spotted marching up the road towards them southbound. Hadvar focused the glass on them and his heart began to race once he saw who it was.

On foot were a count of twenty to thirty men and women, stormcloaks by their light chainmail and blue tunics all armed with the traditional nordic weapons, greatswords and engraved axes. A horse draw carriage was being steered by one of them with what looked to be supplies as three horsemen, two wearing those great bear pelt signifying that these were the officers of the group while the third atop a black steed was in noble robes befitting of a Jarl's station, it was Ulfric Stormcloak. "Get ready for the signal!" said Hadvar softly but loud enough for his squad to hear him.

"Hey…" someone spoke, it was Duland pointing to the road, "Who's that?" Hadvar didn't need to use the glass to see that it was that sellsword he saw earlier coming the road onto where Ulfric and his troops were coming up on. "He's going to get in the way!" said Duland.

"Casualties are made." said Hadvar regretful, "But here's hoping he's got the sense to get out of the fray once the fighting starts."

Hadvar set down the spyglass and felt the adrenalin pumping through him. It was time. Across the road on the other side of their gorge, Hadvar could see archer notch an arrow and quickly loses it, it hitting the carriage driver directly. Then the low blare of the war horn signals out, "NOW!" he could hear Tullius scream.


Ralof hate to drag his feet through the mud but he felt that was doing without a sense of knowing. It was a long trek coming out of Eastmarch to the Rift onto Falkreath but it's not like they had no choice. Being rebel it was hard to move openly with imperial eyes being everywhere. It irritated him once he thought on it. To move so timidly like a rat in the shadows, in own country more or less, country he like to say not province. But what could he do with the empire seeping its claws into his homeland so deep that he was almost treated as a stranger by his own countrymen. For now he had to fight not for himself but for all nords to walk freely in Skyrim and not under the Empire's constant gaze. "Soon, Ralof." said Ulfric, a few days earlier when they spoke. He liked that about the Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm and Eastmarch Hold would to take the time and speak to him some country boy who spent most of life at his parent's sawmill in a village people would pass by, and about how they were liberate Skyrim no less.

"Once I've had word with the Jarl of Falkreath we'll have the troops to make a big push for Whiterun and Markarth. It will deter the imperials greatly." Ralof remembered the assuring smile on Ulfric's face. The confidence that stewed in him was inspiring if not contagious and Ralof went on assured that this war would be closer for a stormcloak victory and he would of course do his part in it. But for now he had to drag his tired legs to up this ragged road, his goatskin boots matted in mud and horse shit from the days of travel before.

"Don't see how you're tired." said voice, it was his shield sister Alga who was looking at him grinning. Ralof raised an eyebrow caring for Alga to explain. She moved nudged the great warhammer she was carrying that was resting on her shoulder, "I've got this thing on me at all times and I'm fine." she boasted. Ralof only snorted. "I'm not tired." He grumbled.

"Pfft! You've been dragging your ass like some horker with a bad hangover since we've left Riften." she giggled. "While you're only carrying that axe on your belt."

Ralof rolled his eyes, his mind fumbling for jape of his own. "I didn't grow living in a mine." he teased implying to her origin, she had came from a clan of miners from Eastmarch as he last remembered. "I come from a family of lumberjacks, we worked a mill where all we used were light axes. You've got those big shoulders, built like a troll's. Carrying a hammer should be easy for you."

Alga gave him a sharp jab on the shoulder, "I guess walking is easy for me too." she chided.

"I tell you." Ralof continued, "Once we get to Falkreath, I'm going to get me a nice rye tankard of mead, two if not and then maybe I'll show you how a hungover horker walks."

Alga chuckled even more loudly, "Two tankards get you drunk enough for you get to hungover in the morning!? By the Nine you are such a lightweight!"

"You don't know the mead they sell at the inn there. The innkeep makes a special brew with oil soaked honeycomb and blisterwort. A half cup of it would have your feeling like a rock. There's a reason why they call the inn Dead Man's Drink and it ain't because of the grave."

Alga rolled her eyes giving off that she would believe it when she sees it. Ralof only smiled, giving her a look on how assured he was but before Alga could continue their conversation a sharp whirl of something whizzed overhead of them, it didn't take Ralof but half a second to find that it was an arrow and that it hit the driver of the carriage behind them directly in the neck. The poor sod let out a wet croak before falling off the carriage immediately. The horse stirred and then the loud sound of an imperial war horn echoed out. "AMBUSH!" Ralof called out and he could he others calling it out too. Ulfric who was on his horse had to calm his at it bucked from the noise. He drew steel blade and the stormcloaks did as well.

Soon a swarm of arrows then flies out from over head, Ralof in quick perception saw legionary archers posted on the hills overhead of them. His reflexes kicked in and he dove for the side of the carriage out of the arrow's path. Alga sadly was not quick enough for four arrows had struck her directly. She let out a loud grunt of pain as she fell in the ground, Ralof lying prone at the carriage's side could see her a few distances away. Her grey eyes still open looking as if she was looking at him. A still hollowness hit them and felt that he was in another world for a moment but the second sound of the war horn blew and he went back to reality as he saw legions of imperial soldiers charging from two directions, their swords raised as they let out a battle cry.

He looked to his fallen shield sibling and rage pursed. He drew his axe and charged out with the rest of stormcloak brethren. "VICTORY OR SOVNGARDE!" he screamed as he connected the first blow to a legion's shoulder. The steel cleaved through the lad's armor letting out a jet of blood once Ralof pulled his axe out of him. Ralof finished with a quick swipe at the soldier's exposed neck.

Another imperial charged at him at full speed, Ralof ducked low a timed moment, pushing the soldier upward with the force of his body, cutting off the imperial's inertia and throwing him to the ground. He stomped at the downed soldier's face then finished with an executing move of slamming axe hard on the imperial's chest.

He looked over to where he had last saw Ulfric, concerned for he knew the main force of the legion would focus on the Jarl. A thundering sound echoed over him, a small group imperial soldiers were flung in the air, flying over. That Ulfric's work alright, using the power of the Voice, the Thu'um to pushes the legion off him. Ralof hastily made his way towards him. He knew protecting Ulfric was the top priority. Thu'um or not Ulfric could not best all of them.

He runs through mass of fighting, bodies hitting the ground like flies on a pie, Ralof was careful not to trip over them. A tinge of shock and concern flew inside him as he saw that the majority of the bodies were of his side, stormcloaks.

"By the might of Talos!" his cursed in his head, "There's too many of them!"

He swung his axe at incoming imperial on which he instantly cut down, still running towards Ulfric. Ralof was happy enough to see that Ulfric was in his sight and still standing, still in battle with the legion. Sweat and dirt had covered him yet Ralof was not going to relent yet. In a furious battle cry, Ralof had unsheathed the steel dagger he had holstered behind him and with both weapons in hand he charge out. It was in a quick combination. First stabbed with the dagger then cut with the axe. The imperials had their heavy armor leaving only a few weak spots for a damaging blow. But Ralof knew the pressure points. He first went for one soldier, his dagger right at the man's neck, using the blunt top of his axe to punch at the man's gut after the stab the soldier croaked over, leaving the back of his neck exposed giving Ralof the chance to slam his axe upon it in a miniature decapitation.

He kept to his double weapon style, not a lot to exert his energy too much but enough to make a path towards the Jarl. He cut one unsuspecting soldier down while he was busy in a fight with another rebel. He ran up on archer for before the soldier could notch one arrow, Ralof in running speed cut at the man's face, knowing the sorry bastard had lost an eye in that row.

Ralof was in good practice keeping enemy attackers off him, moving swiftly. He quickly sees one soldier cut one of his comrades down, in anger he charges at the legionary the soldier hears him and spins with his bloody sword in hand. Ralof had got close, his axe raised high an overhead but before he brought the axe down his paused stun onto whom he was about to kill, the soldier sees him too and before he could attack he as well stopped in his charge as he sees Ralof's face. Ralof still could really believe it, unmoved yet could make out on whom he was seeing through all the blood and mud. Nord, clean shaven, reddish brown hair and pale eyes. They grew up in the same village together, their fathers both fought in the Great War, dying together as comrades. Memories of them playing near the river, daring each other to near the old barrow played through Ralof's mind in a sharp flashback. It pained him greatly that he could barely move to bring the weapon close to the soldier. "You're…" his mind fumbled "You're the enemy...but why can't I attack you."

Judging by the hesitation of the soldier, he could not dare to move too. Another thundering shout echoed out from the Jarl's thu'um and it brought Ralof back to himself again. In an act of defiance, Ralof punches the soldier square in the face sending him to the ground, he letting out a sharp "Oof!" Ralof darts past him making his way to Ulfric. "RALOF!" the soldier called out to him, yet Ralof ignored. He was back into fighting trance once more.

His eyes had then suddenly locked onto a very special target. Judging by the design of his armor and the old greyed description. Imperial man, grey cropped hair. He recognized the insignia of rank of the imperial's armor, General Tullius and he had his sword blazen in the blood of his fallen comrades. "FOR SKYRIM!" Ralof roared charging for the general, he close his axe well right on the general's head. Just one good swing and the general would be down. A victory in itself and he'd be the one that did it. "Just one...good swing." As he got close, his heart had raced some more and his glowing snarl slightly formed into a grin as he got closer to the general and just as he was close enough to bring the the axe down…

"WEAPONS DOWN! BY ALL OF OBLIVION STAND DOWN!" said a familiar voice. It was Ulfric. An unconsciously, just as he was standing so close to Tullius's profile, the axe and the dagger had fell from his hands and Ralof then dropped to his knees. In that quick moment, it was all over.


Tullius carefully stepped over the bodies as he gathered a survey of the battle's aftermath. A small praefect of a page walked close to him, his tiny log book out. "Casualties." Tullius spoke plainly, his eyes forward and his hand behind his back. "Fifteen so far sir." said the prefect, "Plus injured. The rebels have twice as much, we've seemed to have through them leaving only Ulfric and a handful of the rest of his personal guard."

"Good." said Tullius. "I want a full estimate once we've done gathering the remaining rebels here. You are dismissed." he said. The praefect saluted and stepped off. He sees two of his men handling Ulfric who had his wrist bound taking him to the carriages that was carrying the other rebels. "Bind his maw shut!" Tullius barked. His mind going back on Ulfric's talents. The power of the Voice was legend here in Skyrim with lore even resonating to some knowledge of imperials as well. He had no other strategy to combat it when Ulfric used it so gagging him seemed the only reasonable solution. The soldiers did what they were told and one of the men took some torn hide and leather and tightly wrapping it around Ulfric's face, his mouth now fully closed with his jaw even tied so as he could not move it. The Jarl could do nothing but let out displeasure groans as he angrily stared at Tullius. Tullius ignored the Jarl's glare, spotting one his soldiers who was mending a injured arm. Hadvar his name as he remembered. "Good work out there soldier." He congratulated patting his shoulder gently. "Thank you sir." said Hadvar a somber but proud smile on him.

"Sir!" a soldier barked, he and another legionnaire was dragging some skinny fellow who was whimpering keeping his eyes low. The general was a little perplex at the sight of the lad, he was a nord, dressed in peasant clothes, dirt on the face. He seemed very out of place and so waited to see what his men had brought him here for. "Caught him at the camp trying to take Captain Benin's Bay." said one soldier.

Tullius folded his arms, "A horse thief huh?"

The lad spoke up, "I...I….didn't know I…..please….I'm no thief!"

"First took him for a rebel spy when I saw him going after the horses." said the other soldier, holding the man's hands behind his back.

"What?!" said the lad, "I'm not a sp...spy! I'm not for the rebels!"

Tullius was not in the mood to hear it, "Gather his name and origin and put him on the cart with the others."

The soldier snapped into a salute with a "Yes sir!" taking the whimpering nord with them.

"We need to finish up quick." said Tullius to Hadvar as they both walked on. "I want to be at the garrison while there's still daylight."

Hadvar stopped in his tracks "Garrison?"

"Helgen." said Tullius turning to face Hadvar. "I've already informed captain Tenya of coming arrival."

"We're not going to the capital?" Hadvar asked, he had thought since their proximity to the southern border that they would be a day's ride to Cyrodiil to reach the Imperial City. A somber yet grim look then quickly shrouded the general's face once Hadvar had asked the question. "No." said Tullius softly his eyes looking towards the ground.

"Last minute change of plans…" Hadvar thought yet he did not admonish any further questions. He knew there had to be only one reason why Tullius would have Ulfric sent to a nearby garrison and not to the capital for trial. "Is there something wrong soldier?" Tullius asked, snapping Hadvar out of his deep thought. Hadvar's mind had been in some contemplation that he had almost forgotten that the general was still looking at him. "No sir!" Hadvar snapped, his stance in attention going into a salute. "Good." Tullius turned on his heel and continued to walk, Hadvar followed. "So," Hadvar's mind continued to ponder "The general wants to end this quick then."

"General!" another soldier called out to him.

"Stendarr's mercy!" Tullius growled once more stopping to see who needed his attention. "What!?" he barked. He and Hadvar stops to see a small group of soldier carrying an unconscious man.

"Who's that?" Tullius asked as they brought the man to him. His eyes were shut and he looked to have been covered in dirt, must've been lying in the ground for sometime. Hadvar's eyes went wide once he recognized the man. It was the man he saw earlier coming down the road, the mercenary looking fellow. "Shor…" Hadvar mumbled to himself, "I'd hoped he'd gotten out of the way."

"Two men tried to apprehend him during the skirmish sir." said one soldier. "He cut them both down quick, he almost sliced Reingeir's face off if Degean here hadn't knocked him on the back of his skull." the soldier nodded his head to a wounded soldier who was carrying the man, bandages wrapped around his face this must've been this Reingeir.

"He doesn't look like a rebel sir." Hadvar said.

"Yeah but I damn well lost my eye thanks so him!" Reingeir barked indicating he demaned some form of satisfaction.

Tullius looked at the man some more, his mind in deep thought onto what to do with him. "Any form of indentifaction on him?"

The soldiers shook their head. "None sir." the previous one said. "It seemed odd that he'd pop in right at the attack, no locals use this road."

"He looked to have been coming from the south." Hadvar implied.

"You mean from Bruma?" the soldier asked. "We can't just leave him here general, the way he took down those troops. He's dangerous."

"Agreed." Tullius spoke wanting to deal with situation quickly, "Put him with the others."

Hadvar was still unsure. "But sir there's still…"

"I gave an order!" Tullius barked. "Now let's go, we're burnin daylight."