The next morning, it's bright and cold outside. At least I don't have to be outside for that long – it'll have warmed up at least a little by the time I'm finished with Ulfric. As I enter the famous Palace of the Kings, I hear the Jarl's gruff-voiced general complaining at him.
"Balgruuf won't give us a straight answer." He says, emerging from a side room.
"He's a true Nord. He'll come around." Ulfric replies. Since you don't just interrupt an important figure like the Jarl, I decide to wait until they've finished their conversation before I attempt my request.
"Don't be so sure of that. We've intercepted couriers from Solitude. The Empire's putting a great deal of pressure on Whiterun."
"And what would you have me do?"
"If he's not with us, he's against us." Reminds the bearskin clad fighter.
"He knows that. They all know that." Ulfric steps down from the great stone throne.
"How long are you going to wait?"
"You think I need to send Balgruuf a stronger message." The Jarl leads the way back into the side room. Their conversation echoes through the corridor into the great hall.
"If by message, you mean shoving a sword through his gullet."
"Taking his city and leaving him in disgrace would make a more powerful statement, don't you think?"
"So we're ready to start this war in earnest then?" I decide to settle down at the banquet table to wait – it's taking a while for me to wake up this morning.
"Soon." Ulfric seems hesitant still.
"I still say you should take them all out like you did Dead-king Torygg." What a bloodthirsty man! He probably killed and skinned the bear he wears with his bare hands..!
"Torygg was merely a message to the other Jarls. Whoever we replace them with will need the support of our armies."
"We're ready when you are."
"Things hinge on Whiterun. If we can take the city without bloodshed, all the better. But if not…"
"The people are behind you."
"Many, I fear, still need convincing." I lean over and peer through the short corridor into the war-room. Ulfric's being dramatic, his back to his general while he looks through – or rather, at – the fogged up windows.
"Then let them die with their false kings."
"We've been soldiers a long time. We know the price of freedom. The people are still weighing things in their hearts."
"What's left of Skyrim to wager?"
"They have families to think of."
"How many of their sons and daughters follow your banner? We are their families."
"Well put, friend. Tell me Galmar, why do you fight for me?"
"I'd follow you into the depths of Oblivion, you know that." The rough-voiced man replies. They appear to be heading back into the great hall, but they hesitate in the doorway.
"Yes, but why do you fight? If not for me, what then?"
"I'll die before elves dictate the fates of men. Are we not one in this?" Galmar leads the way into the room and towards the ancient seat.
"I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil." Ulfric climbs the steps up to the throne and stands before it. "I fight for their wives and children, whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves! I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight… because I must." He turns and sits, leaning against the tall back of the throne.
"Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric." Galmar responds. "And that's why you will be High King. But the day words are enough will be the day when soldiers like us are no longer needed."
"I would gladly retire from the world were such a day to dawn."
"Aye. But in the meantime, we have a war to plan." Galmar heads back towards the war room, and I take my chance and approach the Jarl.
"Only the foolish or the courageous approach a Jarl without summons… Do I know you?" Ulfric squints at me. He probably wouldn't recognise me without the dirt and terror on my face.
"I was at Helgen." I say, simply.
"Ah, yes… destined for the chopping block, if I'm not mistaken."
"I helped Ralof escape. He said he'd vouch for me."
"Ralof's alive? I hope that's true. He's a damn good man. But he hasn't returned yet, so I'll need to wait for his account." Oh dear. It's been over two weeks since I've even thought of him. I hope nothing has happened to the fellow.
"For now, speak with Galmar." Ulfric continues. "I'm always looking for able fighters." The Jarl seems to think I'm here to join up. I might, at a later date, but not now. "Not everyone can say they made it out of Helgen. Seems we're all branded villains these days. So long as your criminal past stays in the past, and you fight for me with honour and integrity, we'll welcome you into our ranks." 'Criminal past'?! Since when has being in the wrong place at the wrong time been a criminal act?
I still can't remember what it was that brought me to Skyrim. I think it might be something to do with the assassins chasing me – I don't know. I hate not knowing.
"I have a message from the Greybeards." I inform the Jarl.
"It's about time they turn their gaze from the heavens back to our bleeding homeland. What do they want?"
"They want to negotiate a truce until the dragon menace is dealt with."
"I have the greatest respect for the Greybeards, of course. And the dragon attacks are a growing plague. But the political situation is still delicate. Not all the Jarls are fully committed to supporting me as High King. I can't afford to appear weak. I can't agree to this unless Tullius himself will be there."
"Politics be damned. Alduin has returned!"
"Alduin? The World-Eater of song and legend? If that's true… well, it changes the situation, doesn't it? Even Tullius may be forced to talk sense in the face of such a threat."
"So you'll come to the peace council?"
"Yes. I'll give Tullius one more chance to quit Skyrim with his tail between his legs."
I give a slight bow, then leave, heading towards the marketplace to the west of the main gate. Topping up on arrows and potions, I sell the daggers and other small things I'd picked up on the journey, then head out of the city to follow the road west.
A little way along the road we encounter a pair of wolves hanging around the body of a goat they'd just killed. I'm kind of relieved – I was worried we'd already killed off all the wildlife in Skyrim! They don't last that long against us though. The journey into the Pale isn't that different; more wolves and a few spiders attempt to make us dinner and shortly find out their mistake. About halfway towards Dawnstar, however, a dragon swoops over us, then veers around to attack.
Using the Dragonrend shout to bring it to earth, I draw out the sword I picked up in Sky Haven Temple and start hacking at the scaled hide. I discover that using Dragonrend while the dragon is itself Shouting interrupts it, meaning I take less and cause more damage while it recoils from the blast of my Shout. Lydia is peppering it with arrows that occasionally stick into its skin – most of them simply bounce off. Eventually the great beast is dead, feeding my soul collection as it burns to a skeleton before me. I'm a little out of breath from all the Shouting, but I'll soon recover.
I peer at the sky – not even midday yet. We're making good time. We continue along the road through the old fort across the road and turning left when the west path meets the one we're currently on, which continues down into Dawnstar.
Not far along, past the old ruined barrow, an ice wraith tries to freeze us. We don't give it a chance, and soon it dissolves into an icy puddle at my feet. Running on, after fighting another pair of spiders and a couple of mudcrabs which are for some reason in the middle of the road, we find a dog sat whimpering next to the road where it passes through some woodland.
Approaching the poor pooch, it runs off a little way into the forest, then stops and looks back at us as if to ask why we're not following. OK, let's see what he wants. The dog leads us to a small hut in the middle of the trees. Inside, the dog stops, and lies down beside a bed occupied by the body of his previous owner. Poor thing.
Hanging from a frame near a set of shelves is a rabbit and a pheasant, so I harvest as much meat as I can from both and put it in a bowl on the floor. I feel a little guilty, but I can't take the dog with me; I'd feel horrible when – and I know it'd be 'when' – it got killed. It seems to be doing alright on its own so far.
On a small chest of drawers at the foot of the bed is a journal, which I pick up and leaf through.
Well, after all my years living in these woods, it looks like the Rockjoint will finally be the end of me. I guess that's fine. All my friends are long dead. The only one left is poor Meeko. He was always a loyal companion, and I know he'll be able to take care of himself. I hope someday I'll see him again.
"I'm sorry, Meeko." I say to the sad-faced animal, then leave the shack and head back towards the road. We pass through a quiet Dragon Bridge, on up the road and into Solitude. I duck into the potion shop to use the alchemy lab there – the ingredients I've collected on my journey here will be worth more as potions. Once finished, I head over the road to Bits and Pieces to sell all the stuff I now have. The sun is touching the watchtowers on the walls when I head up to the castle, where General Tullius is conferring with his Legate advisor.
"I'm telling you, Ulfric's planning an attack on Whiterun." She says adamantly.
"He'd be insane to try. He doesn't have the men." The general rebuts her.
"That's not what my scouts report, sir. Every day more join his cause. Riften, Dawnstar and Winterhold support him."
Looks like I'll be waiting out another long conversation.
"It's not a cause; it's a rebellion."
"Call it whatever you like, General. The man's going to try to take Whiterun."
"Jarl Balgruuf…"
"Balgruuf refuses the Legion's right to garrison troops in his city." The Legate interrupts. "Un the other hand, he also refuses to acknowledge Ulfric's claim."
"Well, if he wants to stand outside the protection of the Empire, fine. Let Ulfric pillage his city."
"General!" I find myself agreeing with the Legate here – that is a bit harsh. And petty.
"You people and your damn Jarls."
"Sir? You can't force a Nord to accept help he hasn't asked for."
"If Ulfric's making a move for Whiterun, then we need to be there to stop him. Draft another letter with the usual platitudes, but this time share some of your intelligence regarding Ulfric's plans. Embellish if you have to. We'll let it seem like it's his idea."
"Yes sir."
"You Nords and your bloody sense of honour."
"Sir."
I approach the annoyed looking General.
"I remember you." He says upon seeing me. "You were at Helgen. Speak to Legate Rikke. I suspect we could use someone like you." So Ulfric is reluctant to recruit someone the Empire called criminal, but the Empire itself openly asks me to join? Strange times we live in…
"That's not why I'm here." I say, trying not to sound like all the hatred for what they tried to do to me hasn't resurfaced.
"I see. Then there's nothing further to discuss. If you change your mind, speak to the Legate." He begins to turn away.
"I have a message from the Greybeards." That stops him.
"The Greybeards? What do those old hermits want with me?"
"They're convening a peace council at High Hrothgar."
"Why? There's nothing to discuss as long as that traitor Ulfric is in arms against his rightful Emperor." The General crosses his arms and scowls at me. Or rather, through me.
"We need a truce until the dragon menace is dealt with."
"They are getting to be a problem. But I wasn't sent to Skyrim to fight dragons." That's why I'm here, I say quietly to myself. "My job is to quell this rebellion and I intend to do just that, dragons or no dragons."
"Ulfric has already agreed to attend."
"Has he? I suppose he doesn't want to miss a chance to bluster about the Empire's many crimes. He's probably hoping I refuse so he can blame the Empire for being unreasonable. I think I'll have to disappoint him yet again."
Suppressing the urge to share a look with Lydia, I say "So you'll come to the peace council, then?"
"Yes, yes, fine. I'll come to this Greybeard council; for all the good it will do."
I sigh. Politics is far too confusing for me to even pretend to be interested in it. Leaving the castle and entering the cool night, I head towards the Winking Skeever and rent a room. I'm pretty tired, and I am not really looking forward to having to climb up to High Hrothgar yet again tomorrow.