The rocky mountains of the reach were covered in dense mysterious fog, much like most of Skyrim. As Arminius walked along the stone and dirt path, he would occasionally see out of the corner of his eye, human like figures springing through the fog. Arminius would only think of these encounters as just spririts, or things he was seeing. At one point, he thought he saw a figure wearing deer antlers and skin. Arminius wondered what was in the dense fog, but again, he passed it off as nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him or just a deer.

Eventually, through the thick, he made out tall stone structures with carved patterns in it, and tips of buildings beyond it. It was all placed within the side of a mountain, and a waterfall could be heard from it.

"Wow," he let out, admiring the structure that it held for all these years. On the outside, he saw stable horses, and several men working around it, feeding the animals inside. Two guards were stationed on both sides of the large door made of a special resource known as Dwarven Metal. Arminius approached the door, but was halted by a guard.

"Stop right there, Imperial," the guard demanded, his thick Nordic accent commending. Arminius stopped, and listened to what the guard had to say. "What is your business here?"

"I'm just visiting," Arminius replied. "I'm from Cyrodiil you see? I wanted to have a look at Markarth." The guard crossed his arms, and despite his face being hidden by his helmet, Arminius could make out that he was displeased.

"If you're looking to go through, you will need to pay a tax," The guard said. "About two hundred gold would do." Arminius couldn't believe this; in Cyrodiil, nobody had to pay for entrance into a city.

"Is this how it is around here?" Arminius asked.

"Nothing in this world is for free," The guard replied. Arminius decided that he had had enough.

"This is obviously a shakedown," Arminius said to him loudly. "Stop trying to take people's gold." The guard broke out a nervous sweat.

"Keep your voice down," he said, trying to remain a whisper. "Fine, you can go in; just don't cause any trouble." Arminius smiled in victory, and went ahead.

"Thank you."

As the gate behind him closed, he made out the vast array of rocky buildings with carved designs into them, fit with Dwarven metal doors on the front. He observed the streets; the first thing being a street market, with fresh meat and vegetables, along with a jewelry stand. People and guards were moving about, some who were walking on platforms on a higher level, and some way up in the towers.

Clearly the work of the long and extinct Dwarves; this city alone could've been a kingdom capital.

As he looked around, his smile faded when he noticed a man pull out a dagger from his shirt, and approach behind a girl in a ragged dress. Arminius stepped forward and reached out to him, knowing something bad was going to happen.

"Hey hey hey, what are you doing?!" He yelled to him, but the man ignored and grabbed the girl in a choke hold. She began to scream, and Arminius, with his instinct, drew his Imperial sword and lunged quickly at him. The man plunged his dagger into her back, making her let out a dry yelp, until Arminius had driven the Imperial sword through the man's spine, killing him immediately.

The crowd was taken back; many were screaming and yelling in fear when they saw the two thud to the ground. Arminius noticed that the woman that was attacked and stabbed was still breathing and she was bleeding heavily out of her wound. He quickly knelt down to her, holding her up in his arms and applying pressure to the wound.

She winced at the pain, and blood started to drip down out the corner of her mouth.

"Stay with me," he begged. "You're going to be okay." He looked up to see people staring in horror, and guards rushing to his aid. "Dammit, somebody get a healer!" He yelled at them, and then looked back down at the girl. He could see it in her eyes as she stared back, the only thing she could feel was the pain, and how much life she had left.

The first time I had to deal with death, and I could feel just how powerful it really was.

A priestess from the local temple had rushed by with several citizens, and sliding down to Arminius' side. She pushed him out of the way, and had several of the other citizen's help in picking her up and carrying her off to the temple, drops of blood being left in a trail.

Arminius looked on and ran a hand through his short hair, breathing heavily; his armor was now stained with the girl's blood, and his hands leaving marks of red in his hair. He looked back down at the man he had killed, and thought on what just happened. He knew that in what's to come, in his line of work, he'll have to get used to it, being around death.

He shakily picked up his sword; the front half covered in red, and briskly made his way over to one of the running streams in the area. He washed it off, then his hands and cupped some water and threw some on his head. He stood back up and sighed, sheathing the now clean sword, and looked around to see the guards picking up the body of the man and moving it.

"Excuse me," Came a voice from behind him, he turned to see who it was. A young man, Breton, and had some weird face paint on him, held a note in his hand. "I think you dropped this."

"I wasn't carrying paper," Arminius replied. The Breton shoved it into his hands.

"No, no, you dropped it, I saw you," The Breton said. "Well, I best be off then." He walked off.

Confused, Arminius watched him go off, then opened the sealed letter.

Meet me at the Shrine of Talos

Hadvar walked into the Castle Dour, and into the war room he went. He saw Tullius staring at the map of Skyrim, and decided now was a good time to speak up. He cleared his throat.

"General Tullius," he said, saluting calmly. The gray haired imperial commander turned and stiffened his stance.

"Hadvar," he acknowledged. "I'm glad you are here. I've seen your dedication, and I must say that I'm impressed."

"Thank you sir," Hadvar replied.

"Therefore I would like to raise you in rank, not to Quaestor, but to Tribune," Tullius said. Hadvar gulped and remained silent.

So I jump all the way from Auxiliary to Tribune? Was it even possible on Tullius' part to skip promoting me?

"Sir," Hadvar said. "If I may, I ask why the sudden jump to Tribune, and why not just Quaestor?"

"Because you are one of my finest soldiers in the fourth," Tullius replied. "I would make you a Legate, but I feel you would need to attend officer's school to do so."

"It's an honor sir," Hadvar said, not wanting to carry the conversation on any longer.

"Now speak to the Blacksmith about replacing your light armor for some heavy," Tullius said. "Then I'll be assigning your Cohort to Hill Forty. I'm looking to stack up units ahead of time; there may be a war coming."

"I'm aware of that, sir," Hadvar said.

"Now get to it."

Hill Forty was a hill just north of Whiterun, next to the northern watchtower. It overlooked the main road going into Eastmarch, and was relatively steep; perfect for archers and artillery to be stationed. For anybody to be able to take it when occupied would be at a major cost.