Cearbhail: Yay! The newest edition of the Shoutmen! Took me a while, but I finally got it to what I wanted out of it. Well, anyway, I wont' ruin it for you. Enjoy.

Bloodstain's journal, entry 4: 4e323, 1 Morningstar (18:34)

Well, what can I say? The raid on the slave camp went better than expected. Most of the slaves are more than content to run away from any responsibility to fight. It took all my ability to convince half of them to fight alongside us. We needed as much help as we could get to march up to Solitude and expect an equal fight. Although this has become a war, I must not forget what had started the whole conflict. I was trying to learn why the Shoutmen have become targets for the Thalmor. This particular camp had plenty of secrets to tell. The Thalmor are after Dwemer tech. Not to mention all the notes I found in the ringleader's hut. He had notes written down about how to create black soul gems and how to capture humanoid soils inside of them.

This plot was becoming sicker than I thought. Was this why the Shoutmen were dying? Was it because the Thalmor are collecting souls? I do not know for certain, but I will find out. We march onto Markarth tonight and tonight…we'll make her spread her legs open for us. Markarth's government will become our bitch and will fall to our rule. Well…not our rule. The people's rule. It's a sad thing, though. Markarth is a cesspool, filled with corrupt business types who run underground cage fights, prostitute rings, and slave gambling. I'm afraid that once we return the power to those types that the town will only get worse. Maybe I can do something to break these slaughterfish from their power.

I am happy to report that one missing Shoutmen has been located. I found an encrypted report in the slave master's quarters. The report had a coded message, one that I cracked within a couple minutes of studying it with magic. The title was…Summoner. That was the name of one of the younger first generation of Shoutmen. According to the report, she's alive. Funny, I thought she had died during the purge. She was the Seer's protégé. Older than most of us, but still young enough to fight back. It appears that she has two kids…both Shouters. Both Shoutmen by extension. According to the report, Summoner was last spotted in an old Orc Stronghold: Mor Khazgur. There was an extended order to send someone to go find out if she was still there. Since the report was dated yesterday…I'm guessing no one has gone over to find her yet. I'm heading up there after we take Markarth. If Summoner is alive…the only person who knew Princess Cecilie…I want to know about it. If she can still hold a sword and swing it as well, or even Shout…I'll die happy.

Bloodstain….

…

I looked up at the stables of Markarth, already feeling the eyes of the world upon me and my soldiers as we silently marched. I do not care if it was still pouring ice rain. I do not care if lightning flashed and thunder rolled. I do not care because even with all that distraction, there was no way you could miss us. We shouted to the heavens, we shouted to our enemies, and we shouted to each other. As we quietly marched up to Markarth, our voices lit up the sky: Madanach and I. He had the ability to control the weather so he Shouted as loud as he could. I could imitate any Shout I wanted, that's what made me special. I was the only Shoutman who could master every Shout…because I wasn't a true Shouter. My magicka and failed Dragonborn blood gave me the ability to fake the Thu'um. Even so, I was good enough to be a Shoutman.

I looked back at the assortment of slaves and murderers. Faces of non-Nords were too well known in this group. The Forsworn were nothing more than Bretons who were killed and enslaved by their Nord conquerors. They were kicked out of their own land just because the Nords were stronger for a couple minutes. Now, they lived in secret; committing to guerrilla warfare and acts of terrorism to win their land back. It was a futile struggle for more than a century. It never got any better, it never gained any ground. It was nothing more than a continuing wound that would not stop bleeding. The result was a scar on the land and on the minds of those who lived here. Paranoia was the keyword in this land, because if you looked the wrong way, you might not notice the person bringing his knife out.

Then you had the slaves. The only ones who joined me now were what remained of the Khajiits and Argonians within the whole land. Only twenty of them. That was enough, though. I could not help but laugh at the fact that slaves and forsaken natives were going to be the ones to save the Nords from their enslavement. I laughed at the fact that not a single Nord stood by…not a single one picked up an axe to fight alongside us. Only the cats…and the lizards had enough heart to fight back. That just shows what the Thalmor accomplished. They accomplished the impossible…to pacify a Nord on his homeland.

With the twenty Forsworn, that made forty capable warriors. With those forty warriors, myself, and Madanach, we had enough men to conquer all of Skyrim, I was sure. The continually growing riots inside Whiterun, Riften, and Windhelm were enough to split up the Aldmeri Dominion's riot guards. Their army was spread thin, thin enough that we could cut right through to the heart: Solitude. But first, we still had to deal with this bloodstain first. My army was going to flow right into this wound and sew it up once and for all. I did not care for the blood feud between the Nords and Bretons, I only wanted this land to be free again. So, in a way, I was making it free. The Bretons lived here in peace before they were killed and kicked out of their lands. Now, we were setting the score right. We were giving them their own freedom back, while returning ours to us.

I sighed as I looked down at my armored boots. Was it going to be enough, though? What if we took Skyrim? What would happen next? The other lands were still heavily controlled by the Aldmeri Dominion. If we took this land, we would be welcoming hell. Our land would glow with an unnatural light, a light that would blast to all the darkness of the world. And that darkness would want us to be snuffed out, to fall back in line with everyone else.

I shook my head as I reached for my sword. I could not begin to doubt myself now. Everyone would see our light and everyone would hear us Shout. Skyrim was just the beginning for once we took this land back, we would take the rest back as well. The Aldmeri Dominion would be extinguished like any other slime that rose to power. Just like how the mighty Empire fell to one cult of wrist cutters, this elven empire would be taken by an army of crazy murderers and disgruntled slaves.

I turned around to face my men. They stood ready, shouting through the rain as we approached the stables. I could see the archers already lining up to watch us. Guards…still Nords but they might as well been elves for all I cared. They did not fight for Skyrim's freedom, only to serve their new lords so that their families did not end up in the camps around Tamriel. I pitied them…it was not their fault that they had to die. It still did not have to be so.

I walked away from my army, asking them to hold off for a few seconds. The archers watched as I approached and I saw as the lightning flashed overhead that they could see my mask. Their bows laxed at seeing who I was, but it was not because they respected me. It was because they feared me. I showed my hands to show them that I was currently unarmed. That didn't matter. I was still a Shoutman, always dangerous. They continued to watch me up until I stopped and yelled, "You have one chance to live. Lay down your bows and you will witness Skyrim come back to the Nords." I looked back at my army. "These foreigners and the forgotten are fighting for your lands. Do you wish to stop us? Or do you wish to join us instead? Either way we're marching through to the capital and killing your elven overlord."

One of the guards looked around and slowly started releasing his arrow. He looked down as he placed the bow on the ground. He nodded to me and lied down on the ground. His buddies looked unsure if they should kill him or kill me first. I tilted my head to the side. "That's one. Anyone else feel like joining him? Or would you rather join the elves in Oblivion?"

The other guards all placed their weapons on the ground, leaving us to freely march our way up to the doorway. I looked back at my troops and said, "Tie them up. We'll release them once our fight is over." I looked ahead to the gate. There was no one in our way. Today was shaping up to be a good day after all. We just succeeded in convincing some guards that this was not their fight…it was the elves.

I smiled through my mask as Madanach and I marched up to the gate to the town, unopposed and welcomed. Even as we opened the gates, the eyes of the city fell upon us like a wave of fear and expectance. Guards lined the streets, weapons up, looking at us like they expected a war. Archers on top of buildings looked down at us…just Madanach and me. A guard, Nord by blood, wearing the gold and blue armor of the Thalmor Elite Guard walked up to us, his mouth contorted into some weird smile. He looked at us like he had searched his whole life to find us and we had just walked right into the palms of his hands.

I looked at the other guards. Rain fell upon us all like a heavy sleet, freezing at the touch of our skin. In the back of my mind, I was wondering how the unclothed Argonians were doing. They did not have the protection everyone else had when it came to cold weather and ice. They had to be freezing to death. Since it was their lives on the line, I guess it was a die-die situation for them. I guess it's just the method of dying that's left to be chosen. Death by enslavement, or death by freezing in the rain while fighting to obtain freedom. Which would you choose? I don't know about you, but I'd choose the latter. Freedom appeals to me, appeals to everyone. People die for it…as will we all someday.

I clenched my fist, that's the thing, isn't it? People always die. Everyone dies. It cannot be avoided. All we can do is live a great life, something worth dying for. If we have to die someday, why not make it the most memorable death possible? Otherwise, what's the alternative? Taking a last breath in some bed, grabbing the hand of your children, seeing their eyes tear up…only to reflect about the life you had? What would anyone see in that? Some might consider the children that they raised, the choices that they made to make those children's dreams a reality.

Remembering the child I saw earlier, the way his eyes lit up on his face when he saw me…I could easily understand that feeling. What we did was for everyone. There was no going back now. I was fully committed to this war. The only reason why is because while I was contemplating the past, I had already snapped the guard captain's forearm, thrown a dagger into another guard's throat, and used the guard captain to stop the archer's onslaught against me.

Madanach was easily just as fast as I was. True to his calling, he was using two Forsworn swords, hacking his way through the guards like they were butter. As we started killing guards, it led to the slaves running into the town, grabbing the guard's armor and weapons, as well as coin. They were free now and they were the new guards once we were done with this town. The Forsworn lined the walls, shooting arrows down like rainfall. The town's guards could barely see well enough to see the arrows as they fell from the skies, planting themselves in exposed places. It was great to have such a distracting force helping us as we continued through the town.

I paused to look at the faces of the people screaming as we marched through the streets. Prostitutes and gamblers all looked for places to hide, as if we were going to kill them all. Moon sugar flew in the air as drugies saw us approach. Their red eyes glazed over, smiling, but still fearful of whatever it was that they were hallucinating. I wish I could have lost my mind to such a poison, but then it would be nothing more than hiding from reality. I looked on to see the Forsworn jumping across the upper levels, moving ever-so closer to the door that led to the Understone Keep.

I quickly sped up my pace, only to be confronted by two guards. They came out of the alley, thrusting their swords out at me. The sword traveled through my coat and was welcomed by the crystal plate that I wore for protection. The guard looked puzzled before I brought my hand up to my mouth.

"YOL!" I shouted. Fire streaked out of my mouth. The guards had half a second to take in what was about to happen to them. It wasn't even a full second before the giant ball of fire washed over them, taking their skin off, leaving nothing behind but a charred sack of muscle. The fireball continued on, setting a nearby house on fire. It punched through some of oil-stricken blocks, bursting into a larger flame that traveled up. Because of the high oil content in the air…more of it exploded. Fire reached over the sky like a blanket, bits of fire raining down now, catching more oil-stained buildings on fire.

I nodded in appreciation. I had single-handedly destroyed the town. I shrugged as I sheathed my weapon and continued on. Seconds later, I heard the oil refinery explode into a massive flame. I nodded again, happy that it was raining ice water. Soon enough the oil fire would spread and die out. Once all the oil was gone, there would be nothing more to keep it lit. Once all the oil was gone…this town would have to go back to using its previous economy raiser…silver.

I marched through the still flaming streets, happy that I wore fireproof everything. Enchantment was a wonderful thing if you knew what you were doing soon. Just looking at how the buildings were now falling down, people screaming as they ran for the gates, I knew that this town would change for the better. I doubted that Madanach would want this town anymore because of the bloodstained walls, the ruined buildings that were destroyed by oil and acid fumes. With this town burnt to ashes, he could raise a whole new city, one of his liking. I could not have planned this, but I could not have chosen a better result. I feared that crime would continue here as it did while under Thalmor ruling, but seeing the people scream as they ran away from the growing fires, I knew that all the spineless twats and crime lords would not stay here any longer. There was no profit, no chance of their life here anymore. And…it was for the better of this town. It needed its own purge…and to be cleansed in fire? Heh…that was just a bonus on my front.

I finally reached the gate and shoved it open. I could see all the Forsworn spread out, taking aim as Madanach waited for me by the entrance. I took a second to look at what was in front of me. Madanach waited patiently for me to come up to him, while a Thalmor agent stood up at the top of the staircase, dressed in his little dark robes that were meant to look intimidating. To be honest, it made him look like a regal vampire wannabe. He waited patiently at the top of the staircase, Thalmor soldiers dressed in their fancy elven armor, looking down at me as I walked into the room.

I nodded to Madanach and said, "What's going on? Why haven't you killed him yet?"

Madanach smiled. That was never a good sign of anything. "I saw the town on fire. The Thalmor has given up. He says that he won't fight for a burnt rat-hole." He pulled me in closer and suspicion rolled through my bones. I did not like where any of this was going. "He thinks we'll let him leave. I'll fire on the left, you fire on the right and my archers will take him out."

I shook my head. "No…we need him alive…for now. I want answers before he dies."

Madanach nodded. "Ok…even better. Let's do this."

We walked up to the staircase, the Thalmor all aiming their arrows at us, and then glancing at the Forsworn archers surrounding them. They knew that there was no walking out of this alive if we didn't allow it. This was a last minute surrender for the Thalmor slime. I should have suspected this and to be honest, I did.

The leader, with his head aimed so high I could count his nose hairs, majestically stepped down the stairs in a methodical way, trying to show us that he had the upper hand. It was like he did not even consider the fact that we would not let him leave…well…he was about to get something else instead. He clapped in a slow and sarcastic way, smiling at us as he did so. "Congratulations on…claiming your…" He glanced out the door, his mouth twitching in disgust. "town…" He nodded to me. "Ah…Bloodstain…the Nord mastermind detective war machine. I've heard so much about your…" He glanced back out the door. "methods of warfare."

I forced a chuckle through my mask and tipped my hat to him. "And you…" I started. "Sorry, don't know your name."

He scoffed like the very idea was impossible. "I am Chancellor Niirka. I am a high general for the Aldmeri Dominion. I run the oil lines for all operations. As such…I am a very wealthy person and I can…say…pay you to let me walk out this room…no strings attached, I might add. I don't plan on returning to this gods forsaken sight. All the oil has been destroyed, I can see. That is ok, I won't penalize you for desecration of Aldmeri resources, just relocate to my back-up facility. I'm sure you understand just how busy I am."

I nodded and looked back through the door. "That fire was caused by all your oil fumes. Then your factory exploded. If…and I'm just guessing at this." I took off my hat and started scratching my head in confusion. "If your oil pipe…caught fire…like the rest of the town…" I shrugged. "Wouldn't the fire spread through the entire line, consuming more oil until there was no more oil to be burnt. And since…" I started laughing as I placed my hat back on my head. "all the lines are connected to this line…and all the factories as well…" I looked at him, waiting for him to piece together what I was implying.

His smug smile brushed off his face. "You wouldn't dare do such a thing. That…that oil is sacred. It runs everything. If you destroyed it…the world would blow up. Worse, it would never recover from such a loss."

I smiled through my mask. I looked at Madanach, signaling that I was ready. We spun past one another, Shouting, "YOL!" Our fires streaked over the elven archers before they could even respond. Their corpses fell to the ground, leaving the great Chancellor Niirka speechless as he looked around.

I reached up, grabbed the 'good' chancellor by his throat and pulled him to the ground. I nodded to him and said, "Not only would I do it…but I will…unless you tell me everything I want to know."

Then…he began to sing.

Cearbhail: No...I will not be posting what Bloodstain does to him to make him sing even louder. You will learn everything he says through the journal entry. Almost done. About another four/five chapters left. Sweet.