A/N: the last installment, I suppose… a great thanks to my handful of readers :3
. . .
I remember the overwhelming glow from the north like a newborn star while soothing the dead into Arkay's grace… little I knew back then.
The once handful of soldiers and brawlers in Aesir's grasp became a multi-bannered army in a matter of weeks… fueled by incriminated hatred, many Khajiits and Argonians joined his overgrowing ranks along with many troubled men seeking the glow of Septim. More mages poured every single day in the - now - city of gold. The companions failed to resist the temptations in these dark times, heck, even the forsworn joined the cause ….
Twenty years had passed since Aesir sworn to fulfill his desire of vengeance… now, older and wiser. Skyrim's beauty and uniqueness is to be for her people not bound to a single tyrant or caged like a lone canary to please the empire… Skyrim needs to be… free.
The empire and the stormcloaks failed to uncover the ruse until it was too late; the riots on both holds (couriers spread the idea of free Skyrim in the slumbering minds of people) . Furthermore, the number of both new recruits and resources were dwindling to a threatening extent. For the first time, the stubborn mind of ulfric and the tactical one of general tillus agreed on one plan :
Pillaging and destroying the new uprising power of Aesir.
Ulfric mustered a ground trembling army of twenty five thousand warrior (mostly heavy melees and few archers) from the west while general tillus gathered an army of thirty thousand warrior ( well trained soldiers of all colours – fresh from the empire) …. Whilst Aesir's army barely reached nine thousand rebelling soul.
The odds were against him of course, however, the winds of luck were amongst his side; Skyrim haven't embraced such a freezing winter since the day of her youth… which halted the progress of the raging armies considerably. Also, the companions – aside of being a capable fighter – organized all of the bandits, forsworn …etc. and armed them with proper tactics.
By their arrival, the two leaders found that the land around the tower was too jotted and irregular to position their siege equipment, in the first assault, both charging sides suffered heavy losses from the runes and traps buried under the sheets of snow. But even with Aesir's cunning plan, the hot headed ulfric rallied his troops in the battle field with unseen courage like a true nord inspiring his soldier. They were the first to engage Aesir forces. The forsworn were as brutal as their foes while the bandits were somehow quick on their feet and agile in their fighting. Archers failed to shoot from the tangling mass of friend and foes as well as mages (though the Hagraven kept hurling their fireball of doom.)
Seeing the massacre in front of him, general tillus sent his whole cavalry division (about a sixth of his army ) to attack Ulfric reckless army from the rear. Panic spread among the battle-weary stormcloaks and ulfric was no were to be seen and so Galmar ordered a full retreat …. In this great confusion, over seven thousand 'true nord' died while imperials lost a thousand or less (mainly from the booby traps). Aesir lost a thousand of his men but with the arrival of nightfall, things got a whole worse…
The forsworn (being the main bulk his army) showed their true face by slaughtering anyone in the city of gold. It was utter madness that night, luckily the archers on the top of the tower picked up the forsworn with ease, they stopped when their leader – a Briarheart- died by the companion blades. The whole night carnage sent another thousand to their graves.
As for Ulfric fate, the jarl slipped proved stripped off the garment of a dead forsworn in the midst of the battle and went in disguise with his enemies. In fact, he was the one who whispered in the forsworn leader's ears…his plot of rebellion failed miserably. Still, it wasn't a complete loss either…
Siege was laid on the city of gold by both the imperials and the stormcloak. Ulfric waited for the next imperial skirmish so he could slip by and return to his camp. That when fate took an ironic twist; upon Ulfric silent arrival in his camp, an axe of raging might struck him on his back….
It was galmar's.
The stone-fist mistook him for a spy since the headdress veiled his king's face. In his last breath, ulfric gave him a dying forgiveness. The bear-hooded man was brilliant in his own way for he altered what happened and spread the news of the high king's honoured death in fighting for the true sons and daughters of Skyrim.
Hell broke loose from this moment, the stormcloaks cared not for their well-being; they wanted to take down as many imperials with them; they massacred the imperial camp near them… until none was left. Galmar death was a legendary one; the old mule took thirty with him including legate rikke until he could swing no more. Only seven thousand imperial were capable to fight on with broken morale, they basically throw themselves at the golden walls of Aesir. The fight went on and on till the imperials had the upper hand; the cunning imperial mages out-experienced those their counterpart with devastating conjuration spells. When all seemed to be hopeless, a dragon of golden scales swooped on the clashing mortal burning dozens with its blazing breath. The imperials proved to be coward milkdrinkers as they scattered from the scene like a skeever's whelps as well as the remaining Dunmer and bandits.
Aesir should have known that dragons can not resist the hue of gold although it didn't mean a significant value to them. nevertheless, he made an unseen approach to this dragon of old:
He went to the top of the tower and waited for the precise moment to jump either to his utter doom or to the dragon back and so he did. As if the nine blessed his dagger when he stroke his dagger into the thin scaly skin of its left wing, the dragon twirled right and left to get rid of him but in avail; his determination to slay the dragon matched Hakon One-Eye's . Finally the dragon landed out of balance and smashed into the tower revealing the endless sparkle of coins in it. The dragon had met the gaze of the flea that annoyed it and breathed fire but the man parried it by a thread (the fires burnt his right arm to crisp) . Gritting in pain, Aesir made a swift roll and sliced the dragon's throat with all the strength left in him.
The battle of a hundred nights ended in Aesir's favor unexpectedly. The whereabouts of general tillus is unknown- some say that he died a coward's death while fleeing, others say that he burned with his troops. None is certain. The next few months were spent in extinguishing the fires of the imperials and stormcloaks mainly. most of the septims in the city of gold were on rebuilding skyim to her former self… no thieves guild, no bandits, no corrupt guards, no discrimination and most of all, no Thalamor and free talos worshipping . Thanks to the efforts of Aesir fire-arm our high king. The empire now recognize Skyrim as an independent nation not as a province… the Thalamor gave up in retaking Skyrim for she has a unmatched army protecting her beauty.
And this conclude the tale of our high king, he devoted the rest of his life to Skyrim far away from any selfish purpose. With the departure of our king from the world of living, I fear the fall of Skyrim in her old, dark ways….