Cearbhail: Another exciting, thought provoking, awe inspiring, edition of the Shoutman. No...It will not become a comic series (however much I would like it to be). I suck at drawing (sigh), but I guess I will do with what I got and what I got is a wonderful way with words.

Bloodstain's journal, entry 4: 4e323, 1 Morningstar

Funny. Today's sort of a holiday. Today's the New Life Festival. The beginning of a new year. Do you know what the Shoutmen are doing to celebrate it? We're taking Reach from the Thalmor, freeing all the slaves, cleansing Markarth of all its sins, and then…preparing the Forsworn for the march up to Solitude. We've waited long enough. We're taking this country back.

My partner is back. My good old friend Madanach has agreed to join me on the quest to free Skyrim from our elven overlords who seek to rule us. It makes me think about how all this started in the first place. I'm sure there are plenty of multi-dimensional paradoxes, where things happened differently. I am certain that somewhere this never happened, that our history did not end up as their history. But history still repeats regardless of the smaller details. I'm sure in some dimensions there was no Aedra War, or anything of the sort. But I bet that the Thalmor still existed. I bet that the Thalmor have always planned to exist, but only finding other ways to claim their control. I bet that the Dragonborn could have ended up as anything else, maybe even a dog….but in our time is was Asger. Some other time it could have ended up being some other Nord. Maybe his name was Merek or something. I wouldn't know.

And I bet that in certain dimensions…all of us don't exist. If someone were to change the vibrational frequency of the crystal ball, they'd probably see someone else playing their own destiny at the same game, all fighting the same quests to achieve the same ultimate goal. That does not truly matter though. We cannot affect all futures, but we can affect our own. We can save our own. Let all the non-believers do what they do best…ignore our story, call us out…but we'll still be here. Whatever facts the non-believers believe, they don't know our stories, what happened to us, what happened to our world. So, I stare down at those innocent bystanders who do not have a lick of understanding for our roles or how we will shape our lives. Let them continue to criticize us as we do what we know is right. We'll still be fighting regardless of what they say. This is our dimension and this is our fight.

Anyway, none of that matters. I've just been brain-racked, thinking of how things could have been different. Maybe if something had happened to where all the great heroes of our dimension were able to gather up for the rise of the Aldmeri Takeover, my history would be a little different. Maybe I could grow up in a time without war, in a new dimension that would be created from a time-lapse given off of an elder scroll. If only we knew someone who had such a device, since all were destroyed by the Thalmor during the purge. If only…

I will not let my voice die in the wind. I have seen the light, it beckons me. Even if I die, my voice will live on. This journal itself will be given to someone I can trust to guard it when the time is right. If I die, my word will still remain and the fight will continue as it always has. Freedom is an idea…it cannot be killed, even if I am. So, for anyone who reads this journal, remember the 1st of Morningstar, a gloomy Freedas during 4e323. If you can see what one man can do on a day like this…imagine what you can do. Imagine what all of us can do.

Bloodstain…

…

The rain clouds gathered behind us, covering the sky in a never-ending stretch of darkness. Lightning flashed from behind, covering the sounds of our approach. The wind blew in our favor, hitting our backs as we all marched up the hill to the crest of the slave encampment. I made sure that I was the first one to walk up to the top so that my face would be the first one to be cast down upon the onlookers. And in fact, they were all looking. They were looking up at the gathering clouds, at the lightning that threatened to made them work in the blistering ice-rain. No one wanted that. No one wanted to be covered with a sheet of ice.

So, when I walked up to the mountain and looked down at the growing crowd of faces, they all looked up at me. There, toward the middle of the pack, being whipped by a Thalmor dog, was the little boy I saw earlier. His broken face looked up at me and I saw his face light up into a bright smile. I was reminded of how I was a match that would strike the candles of the world. And right now, I just struck a large bonfire. By the end of the night, the whole Reach would be aflame. Metaphorically, of course. I don't plan on burning the land, just 'cleansing' it of any Thalmor presence, and of course rallying the people to stand up for themselves again. We start with Skyrim, and then we take back the world. The Thalmor will be defeated, of that I am sure.

I looked back at Madanach, who stood beside me. He marched up to stand by my side. He looked down at the large camp and smiled. "I hear you guys have been looking for us. Well…here we are."

"Get them!" The Thalmor overlord screamed as he stood up and grabbed his hand-cannon.

I wasted no time as I jumped from the top of the fill. My coat flapped through the thick air as I free-fell to the lowest ground. As I did, I calculated the number of opponents that I would be facing against. I counted six that were immediately within my range. Hmm…I wondered what weapons I had. I had my dagger and…my magic. I guess those would have to do.

"Fire!" Madanach called to his Forsworn. They all rose around the entire fill, bringing bows aiming down at us all. I chose to free-fall down here to keep everyone distracted. I knew that there was a chance that I could die, but I was ok with that. I could no longer live in a world owned by disease and whores. I would rather die doing what Shoutmen do than live under this tyranny anymore.

Arrows streaked past me as I landed on the ground. I felt blood wash over me, covering my mask in a fresh layer. Just as I stood to fight, drawing my dagger…the ice-rain started drizzling down on us. It started with a few drops but then it started to fall like shards of razor. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't blame them for running, but the Thalmor did not deserve to run.

I looked at the prisoners, who shivered in their ragged clothes, being pelted by the ice-rain. I raised my hand to my mouth, using my magicka to amplify my voice. "The Shoutmen have come to free you. Return to your caves and await us to finish with your captors."

The slaves looked at the Thalmor for answers, which no one responded. We were all just standing in the rain now, stuck in a standstill. None of us were watching the arrows falling from the sky. The arrows that no one even knew was coming. As far as they knew…it was only me right now. How come no one knew? Because everyone was watching me and only the top layer of the slave encampment was dead.

I spread my arms out wide, offering someone to attack me. Just as a Thalmor came walking in, his whip raised up above his head…an arrow found a nice resting place in his neck. He stumbled forward, grabbing his throat in surprise. He fell to his knees, trying to breathe. I just walked past him. There was no more need to worry about him. I still had a hundred more of these baddies to worry about. I did not have to worry for long, though. My archers had the high ground and even though there only twenty of them, they could take out fifty before they could march up the pit to face them. That left me with the other fifty.

I watched in stoic silence as more arrows found some comforting bodies to lie within. That was the first wave. By now the Thalmor were taking in notice at the large surrounding force of Forsworn gathering around them. For years the Thalmor ruled with a silent fist, quietly overtaking enemies using anyone else as their pawns. Years of complacent paranoia made them forgetful of their surroundings, putting all their trust in outside mercenaries and paid-off officials. This type of ambush they had long forgotten about, after all it had been over 200 years since the last time they had a war like this.

I warmly sighed with a content smile. It felt good to be doing something so grand. That was the thought running through my head as I cut through two Thalmor slave runners. They had the gall to face me as I marched up to the overlord. He was still standing in his spot, holding the hand-cannon, aiming it right at me. I wish he had the stones to fire it. I wanted all the more reason to put the fear in him.

As I came closer, another of his lackeys tried to get close to me. He ran up to me, a dagger flashing through his sleeve and over to me. I stepped towards him and punched the hand with the dagger. He hand rocked back and he looked confused for a second. I stepped closer again, slashing with my own dagger. My dagger ripped through his leg before he even knew what was going on. He looked down but that was his mistake. My other hand came up to his throat, snapping. He fell backwards, grabbing his throat in gurgling pain. I ended our fight with a boot to his face. All the while I was looking up at the ring leader, who looked down at me with scornful eyes.

"Bloodstain, I will give you this one chance to surrender to us peacefully." He said at me as he leveled his hand-cannon at me. The look in his eyes betrayed his fear.

I stepped forward, spreading my arms out welcomingly. I looked around. Thalmor were falling left and right as the Forsworn snipers nailed them as they tried to climb up the muddy hillsides. They were almost already defeated. The slaves continued to lie there in the falling ice-rain, lost and confused as to what was going to become of them.

I looked back at the overlord. I chuckled and shook my head, making a point of taking off my hat and rubbing a gloved hand over my masked head. I looked up at him and said, "You must be blinder than a man wearing a full mask to not see what is going on around you." I said to him.

He started glancing around at his comrades. "This only a setback, Bloodstain. The Aldmeri Dominion will find these slaves and make sure to punish them and anyone related to them for this violation of slave camp protocol. I thought this would have sunk into your head by now. These slaves only exist because or your actions, Bloodstain. You put them here by being what you are. They live this punishment for your neglect to follow our rules. This is your blood on the ground, you Shouting bastard, not ours."

I looked around at their faces, taking in every single one of them. I nodded and looked back up at the overlord. I spread my arms out and said, "Then spread my blood everywhere. Let me pay the price for my failure."

He pulled the trigger and the lead round found its way into my jacket. I jerked back for a second. As soon as the pulsing pain in my chest stopped and I was able to catch my breath, I looked back up at him. "Gonna take more than that to put me down." I said. I brought my hands up to my mouth and took a deep breath in. "YOOOLLL…"

"No…don't do it." The overlord said. He took the hand-cannon off of me and aimed it at the child I noticed earlier. "If you do, I swear I'll blow his face off."

I smiled. "You know that if you do…I'll still kill you." I replied back.

He looked mildly surprised but his finger started twitching towards the trigger.

"WULD!" I screamed into my left hand. My right hand was already coming up into a combative slash as I reappeared behind the Thalmor agent. I could feel blood on the blade, blood on my face. I turned around to see the Thalmor glancing wide-eyed at his arm. Well…lack of arm. There was barely enough coming off of the shoulder to count as much.

The Thalmor screamed in horror, falling off of his feet and onto the ground. He reached for his bloody stump, trying frantically to feed some Restoration magic into the wound. As he was doing so, I was walking up to him. I stopped as my boots came inches from his head. He looked up at me, his eyes narrowed and fearful.

"No, please…don't." He cried, looking up at me.

I tilted my head to the side, as I was very accustomed to doing these days. "I wonder how many slaves said the same thing before you killed them as well." I said as I reached down and took the hand-cannon from his severed arm. I brought the cannon to his head. "I wonder how many slaves had to look at the cannon as you do now, wondering when you would pull the trigger, what they would feel, or…what would come after they died. Do you think you'll see Talos, or just your own elven gods? Eight of them? What about the ninth? Think he'll take highly to you pissing on his grave, his temples….his people?"

The Thalmor looked angry, but his face was flushing due to blood lose. "Just do it already, you Nord bastard." He spat at me.

I glanced at the hand-cannon and tossed it aside. "Not my place to punish you." I looked over to the slaves. "It's theirs." I could see the look in their eyes. Wide and fearful. I walked away from the downed Thalmor and walked over towards them. "You are free now. The Shoutmen are taking back the Reach and driving the Thalmor out."

I heard a loud gunshot and I felt a heavy round bounce off my shoulder plate. I glanced back at the Thalmor and said, "Do I have to take your other arm as well?"

He did not answer. His eyes became lifeless and his body became limp. He used whatever was left of his strength to kill me. It failed. I looked back at the slaves and said, "I remind you…you are all free. Return to your homes, return to your families. Remember what it means to be free. I am a Shoutman and I have neglected my duties for too long. It is time that I remind the Aldmeri Dominion the strength of our spirit. It is time we show these elves what Nords can do. I have already started a resistance. They fight to free slaves such as yourselves. If you wish, you may join us in our fight to end the Thalmor threat in our country, or you may return home. You may not, however, stay here and mine for these bastards."

The slaves continued to look at me with blank looks. They started looking around at each other, finally taking in what was going on. One of the miners looked down at his pickaxe and dropped it in the mud. He smiled at the idea of never having to pick it up and looked at his fellow slaves. One by one, the slaves started dropping their axes, all looking up at me with bright eyes. Yes, most of these slaves may have been Khajiit or Argonians and only the few 30% were Nords or Bretons, but today they were all equal. They were all free.

I turned to Madanach, who was coming up to see me. I nodded to him and said, "Now…let's get over to Markarth."

Cearbhail: Ok, so let me know what you thought about it. What could have been better, what any of you would like to see in the coming chapters. I make no promises. If someone wants to see a dancing monkey... I might do that. If someone wants to see Bloodstain's head explode... no.