Edric III

Spring rolled through the lower parts of Skyrim bringing life the plants and animals…and the war. Ulfric began amassing troops to start several different offensive campaigns and to hold the already Stormcloak cities. Falkreath was a relatively weak Hold, but could be a vital one if handled correctly.

Since the destruction of Helgen, Falkreath had lost some significance but it still was the closest Hold to Cyrodiil. So if reinforcements came from the south they would come from Falkreath through the Pale Pass. If we could take it then fortify it we could cut off the Imperial forces in Skyrim from the South. If the rebel fleets could blockade Solitude then any retreating Imperials would have to go to Hammerfell or High Rock, neither place would be good for the Legion right now. At least until Tullius sorted out his brother in Wayrest that is.

Today I would be leading a rescue of Stormcloak soldiers from an Imperial fort near the city while Galmar would be leading a small force into the city itself. Father would bring up the rear with a large force to help if either Galmar or I failed and to garrison the town when we took it.

I met up with the leader of the Stormcloak unit who would go with me into the Fort. They were known as the Winter Wolves and were some of the best my Father had to offer. "Ralof, what is your plan for this fort?"

"Edric Stormblade, it is good to see you again kinsman. When was it last?" The blond Nord smiled and shook my hand.

"Helgen. Now then the plan." I tried again.

"Oh yes. We have been scouting the area around and have found a cave in the lake near the fort. The cave will lead you to the prison. Kill any Imperials you see on the way in. When you get to the prisoners tell them to stay put until we are in there. If they can arm themselves then that's fine but do not leave the prison. They are weak and need care, not to be fighting. Then open the gates."

"Oh that sounds simple enough." The sarcasm was heavy in the air.

"Aye, you have the simple part. We will be causing a distraction out here so you won't have many Imperials between you and the door. We will be trying not to get killed while we give you a chance." He began to tell his men what to do in order to prepare.

In that moment I pictured these sons of Skyrim, these true Nords, outside the walls of an Imperial fort dancing around like drunken fools waving their swords and cursing the mothers of all of the Imperial Legion soldiers inside the walls. I did my best not to laugh before I set out for the lake.

My lungs were burning.

My vision had blurred.

Then as my head grew light I saw the cave.

When everything began to grow dark I burst up from the water and drew the biggest breath I could manage and began to spit out any water. So much for sneaking.

When I managed to recover I figured out that no Imperial had heard me. I was blessed on that note because when I found the prison room I found four soldiers as well. Surprise helped me narrow it down to three on one with a well thrown dagger.

The remaining soldiers were well trained, but I had been raised by a man who fought as a Legionnaire. I had been trained to fight like a Legion soldier and to fight Legion soldier. My sword was not a tool, it was part of me. My Nordic steel sword was ready for whatever these soldiers could throw at me.

One man forgot his training and charged me. The smash and dash method did him little good when his shield was forgotten. I opened his throat before his sword could swing at me. The other two soldiers were not so brash.

I began to deflect and dodge their attacks. They worked well together but not good enough. If they worked in tandem I would have been a dead man. When one was swinging the other was trying to bash his shield into me. It took me rolling or otherwise dodging and one man's sword would hit the other's shield. They had done a good job flanking me, I will give them that.

When I saw an opening my off hand punched the man on the left in the face. My gauntleted hand breaking several teeth. My sword hand ran through the man's stomach and turned him around to shield me from his comrade.

The Imperial gladius is made for quick shallow cuts or to impale and pull quickly. When the sole surviving soldier brought his sword arm crashing down he had meant to cut me, but he found his sword stuck deep into his former friend's body. I threw the dead man to the ground and walked to the soldier.

"Keys. Which one of you carried them?" It really was not a question.

The frightened soldier pointed at the man I had killed first.

"Thanks." My sword nearly took his head off. I considered it a mercy compared to what the last guy received. I retrieved my throwing dagger when I got the key and freed the men.

"Listen, the most fit of you should take the Imperial's weapons but stay here. One of us will come and get you when the fighting is over." They all nodded their head. Most had no idea who I was but after watching me kill their wardens they would not argue.

Falkreath had this unsettling quiet to it when we walked into town to celebrate. Ralof told me that I only thought that because I was raised in the big city. Galmar agreed with me. The large cemetery that the Hold was known for was eerie to say the least.

Dengeir of Stuhn was given his title of Jarl back and his nephew was allowed one horse to ride to Solitude. If he died in the wilderness on the way no one would care. I hoped a dragon would eat the bastard.

Drinks were passed out all around. The Jarl had ordered a celebration. I would join my father, Galmar, and the Jarl's brother for supper in the Jarl's longhouse. We would celebrate the death of the Imperials and his nephew fleeing to Solitude. Jarl Dengeir would toast my father and would drink to the downfall of the Empire. He would cuss up a storm about the elves too. It made us all laugh when his steward cleared her throat and reminded us that she was a High Elf.

"By the end of the night, I knew two things. Falkreath's cemetery would grow with many more deaths, and that many more families would be split thanks to this war.