22th Sun's Dusk… 2200…
From the tree top, he could see the others in the procession of the guard and his fellows in their positions. They were moving fast from the East and it was obvious they were heading to a Stormcloak base camp in Falkreath Hold. Raylen surveyed the heavily armed patrol along the road East of Helgen. The first of the troops moved along the road, followed by the oxen pulling the catapults. They'd be set up inside the week for their first attacks against Falkreath.
He shook his head, knowing it was going to be a blood bath.
They had been surveying the Stormcloaks closely now for a week. Watching them move through the game trails as hunters, marking maps, and checking trails. They were setting up parties along the Jerall Mountains as lookout posts. Everywhere they had been, there were Stormcloaks.
The sheer number of Stormcloaks on the move in the South had set the local Legate to a near panic. Raylen had heard through his own communications that dispatches were being sent to the Southern Legions marching North and to Tullius. Though, it seemed that those messages weren't getting through since he'd had little response. Or maybe the Legion was at a loss. Raylen guessed vampires and Stormcloak sympathizers were to blame. He hoped Astrid was having more luck figuring it out.
This is just bad for business...
Assassinations of Empire supporters were occurring all over the Eastern and Southern portions of the Province. He couldn't imagine any remaining in the East after what Rune had told him.
Other than the Black-Briars… old Maven can really make things turn her way.
Word had spread that Stormcloaks were kidnapping races other than Nords for safeguarding caravans and as slaves of various purposes. People were fleeing to other Holds.
War was tearing apart families, hindering trade, and everywhere people were finally choosing sides.
Three days ago, Alva's vampires had been scouting the Stormcloaks and had seen them disguised as Legion scouts, sneaking around the old game trails behind Helgen leading to the pass. Later in the middle of the night, multiple explosions had rocked the pass, triggering massive avalanches.
Legate Skulnar had seen reason enough prior to the destruction of the pass to order a hasty retreat to Falkreath if the pass closed. He'd suspected targeting the pass and his own spies had confirmed it. Staying at Helgen meant certain death for anyone if they had lingered with the Stormcloaks' approach.
Now the pass was completely cut off.
He had seen it with his own eyes, sneaking past the Legionnaires before they sequestered themselves within walls of the city. He'd watched them prepare for retreat and when they had sounded their horns. Helgen had been in danger of being swarmed by Stormcloaks. Even during the process of rebuilding, Helgen had been hit by small parties, and it had become clear it was a lost cause if the pass closed. The Legion had abandoned it the two nights ago, taking everything of value and marching toward Falkreath.
The Stormcloaks didn't waste any time sacking Helgen today. The small party of Nords had filled the camp with oil and burned everything wooden. He hoped his spies would be already waiting at camp for him, to give more details. Too much is happening too quickly.
The oxen lumbered under him and he sat watching the armored trolls approach. He couldn't help but think of the slaughter the Legion faced in Falkreath. Cut off from reinforcements in the South and no one to come from the North, Raylen wondered why Tullius hadn't ordered sneak attacks to counter the Stormcloaks. Their infantry tactics were clearly not working against small insurrectionary combat attacks the Stormcloaks effectively employed.
The smell from the trolls hit his nose, almost making him loose his grip on the branch. Somehow, he had managed to maintain his silent vigil high in the tree.
Scanning the area, he caught Alva's vampires creeping closer down the trail. Dressed as Stormcloak scouts, they nearly blended in. He'd heard through her that the Stormcloaks had attacked the Orsimer strong holds in the East and killed the chieftains. As she spoke, his thoughts of the Stormcloaks' plans were nothing less than brilliant. Removing chieftains loyal to the Empire had caused the strongholds to collapse. With Orc berserkers fighting for their freedom against the Empire, it was ironic. Now, he watched them pass like cattle, chained to supply carts, stripped of their possessions and pride.
It sickened him to see the proud and honorable Orcs used as nothing more than meaty shields.
Bosmer trainers rode mammoths after the supply carts. Their airy tunes floated from their pipes to his ears. From where he sat, he could see the sadness that shrouded them. Wood Elves were so few in Skyrim, except on the Eastern front and to see so many he wonder if Ulfric Stormcloak had put out a reward for their capture.
He didn't doubt it.
The mammoths dragged large carts of their own filled with sabre cats, wooden battering rams, oils, and other supplies. He had no doubt what the intentions were for the half-starved cats. That thought made him shiver.
The line marched along under him for another hour as he scanned the roadway. Runners moved to and fro, passing messages along it. It was a marvel to watch, yet he couldn't help but wonder at sheer numbers the Stormcloaks had dispatched. He was glad that Bryn had place a Nord family in at Pinewatch to serve as decoys. He didn't think the cabin itself was in any harm now. They had taken banners from both the Legion and Stormcloaks and posted watches everywhere. Depending on the Stormcloaks movements, their banner would fly from the cabin.
It worried him they still might kill the decoy family there. He wasn't as worried about the cave network, the numerous traps and devices would stop anyone trying to gain access to their inner workings. If they did, there would be a massive fight before they let the caverns go. Too many people were willing to fight to the death rather than face a Stormcloak execution squad.
The Stormcloaks had become ruthless under their division leaders, some were no better than common cutthroats. He wondered if Ulfric actually condoned the actions of his own men. Stories of Ulfric Stormcloak had always made Ulfric out to be honorable man fighting for his people. Now as he watched the procession, he questioned it. Slavery showed Ulfric cared nothing for other races.
Raylen shifted to make himself more comfortable as time dragged by.
The Archer battalion marched behind the mammoths as they finally passed. Elven porters carried supplies for readied access. He wondered at the Elves, so many broken faces among their ranks. They were dressed in leathers with countless arrows across their backs in baskets.
Road guards rode along with them, cracking whips to keep their pace even and quick.
Dark Elves were chained to the supply carts between the archers and the infantry. So many Nords, he wondered if Ulfric had emptied his entire Hold onto the road. He knew better than that. These Nords walked with purpose. Their sweep of Helgen and the Pale Pass had left them in good spirits. Their laughter and mirth hadn't failed to reach his ears.
He looked around for Gabriella across the road and saw her shadow in the tress, the single dark spot hiding the stars. He wondered if it pained her to see her brethren used as a living barrier to stop thieves and other attacks. He tried not to think about her being down there with them. After so much time working together, he had finally managed to truly work his way into her good graces and bed.
Raylen sat in silent observation of the procession.
Stormblades rode by on the fastest horses Windhelm had. The men and women on horseback caught his attention the most. Ulfric's prized warriors and modern day Nordic berserkers laughed and joked among themselves. He made a count of them, noting only fifty.
He smirked. Maybe Ulfric thinks Falkreath and the pass there will fall just as quickly? Raylen watched as a few vampires slipped into the surrounding woods with messengers under their arms. Good, were need to get an idea what's coming.
Alva had already agreed to send her fastest to Falkreath with messages. He only wished he could get out of the tree to see how things were coming along. He had complete faith in the cutthroat vampire and her clan. Movarth in the North was a more than capable ally and his mate was as well. She personally had taken out several Volkihar vampires in a fight last night. Movarth's clan coupled with the ever rising number of vampires, which mingled with the Dark Brotherhood. He could only smile at the thought. The Guild and their relationships were developing fast and the growth was bountiful. Bryn and the Council are doing an excellent job!
He surveyed the riders and their mounts. Whiterun had been cross-breeding native Skyrim horses with speedier horses from Cyrodiil. The Legion's cavalry would easily outstrip the Stormblades, but he suspected that they'd only use them to retreat.
He watched the second wave of foot soldiers pass, thinking about his muscles and how they ached from sitting still for so long. He suspected Gabriella was feeling the same way. For another hour, he waited for the all-clear signal before beginning his decent. Being in the tree all night long and watching the endless parade pass through smoldering remains of Helgen was enough.
He let his eyes wander the landscape as he waited. Looking out into the trees and over the road, something caught his attention. He turned back to the tree line, sure there was someone there a moment before. For a second, he waited. Is that a cloak? The shadow remained only a second longer and was gone. He gripped the branches, sure someone had been watching the procession and him all along.
Sparks exploded near him and he quickly slipped from the tree.
"Gods damn it, I'm stiff." He said quietly.
A playful giggle erupted behind him. "And to think, I thought only I could do that to you." Gabriella smiled at him. "Then again, you bed women like our dear Dragonborn."
He smirked back. "Oh, can you ever, my dear. And please don't compare us, I'm far more skilled."
Gabriella chuckled. "I'll grant you've only had more time for it. You are older than her." She watched Raylen smile and the sound of a twig snapping caught their attention. "Did you see someone in the trees?" Gabriella stared off in the distance.
Raylen nodded. "I did, at first I thought it was my imagination. Then I saw them again."
Alva stepped out of the bushes. "Hurry, there's a detachment coming with dogs."
The three hastily moved away from the road and into the depths of the forest. "Alva, did you see anyone in the forest?"
Her fangs gleamed in the darkness. "No, but I'm a little concerned if we missed someone…"