Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLT9o2tK1FM
4th of Hearth Fire 4E201
“Argh, what’s happening?” “Where am I now?”
It felt like I’d been asleep forever, being whisked between dreams and nightmares – from destroying the entire Thalmor army single-handedly to fending off waves of Argonians pouring out of the pool by Darkwater Crossing to being eaten by a giant and realising I didn’t have any pants on. Clearing my blurred vision I was once again in the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I’d resolved the previous night to head to Windhelm and to investigate the Dark Brotherhood bring Balgruuf’s Axe to Ulfric Stormcloak. If I saw another of those damn assassins... they don’t even have the respect to send anyone mildly challenging! Bidding Delphine goodbye I began my trip to Eastmarch.
The journey was swift – having travelled the same road numerous times over the past weeks ensured that they were clear. That was, until I reached the borders of Eastmarch. An Altmer in a matte black robe stepped out of the trees by the roadside. Wielding a staff in one hand and the other blazing with magical energy, his unkempt hair and appearance indicated he clearly wasn’t one of the Thalmor. Nocking an arrow as I dismounted my horse, a grin grew across the mer’s face. “Fire, frost or lightning – you will suffer by my hand!” His left hand shone bright white as a bolt of flame shot across the road towards me. Loosing my arrow and jumping to the right, my shot struck true while his firebolt impacted in the cliff behind me. I drew another arrow and we squared off for a few seconds, before I fired another arrow. He deflected this one with a ward, before blasting me in the chest with another firebolt, this one from his staff. Undeterred, I shot a third arrow, hitting him this time in the forearm, forcing him to drop his staff. Quickly slinging my bow back over my shoulder, I charged him and drew my shortswords. Unprepared for the assault, my twin blades tore through robes and flesh, killing the elf in seconds.
I searched the body over, to see if the elf had any reason to attack me in the first place. No letter, no orders, no pictures or names, but I did find quite a few bottles of Skooma. Best to leave them be, I thought – I mounted my horse and continued on to Windhelm.
The snowbound masonry of the city loomed up in front of me, and I stabled my horse before making my way across the bridge and into the city, cowl drawn over my face. Entering the drab city unchallenged, I began asking the townsfolk about this Aventus Aretino boy. It wasn’t long before I turned up some definitive answers – there were superstitions abound about this ‘black sacrament’ he was performing. Sneaking by an elven woman warding passersby away from the home, I silently picked the lock and snuck inside. I was met by the sound of repeated stabbing and a young boy’s voice chanting, “Sweet Mother Sweet Mother send your child unto me, as the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear...” Stepping softly up the stairs, I managed to get a view of the sacrament unnoticed. The boy had somehow collected a human heart and chunk of flesh, and was stabbing it repeatedly with a dagger coated with poison. “What are you doing there, boy?” I asked, stepping from the shadows. “You’re finally here!” he exclaimed. “An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!” The boy certainly was rather abrupt. “Slow down,” I said. “What do you know about the Dark Brotherhood?” “I-I did the Black Sacrament – Just like it says in this book!” he said, handing me a tattered old book. “I got everything – the bones and the dagger and... things...” he said, gesturing to the human flesh over near the skeleton. “You’re here to accept my contract, right? You need to go and kill Grelod the Kind in the Orphanage in Riften. I’ve got some stuff I can give you when you get back!” “I’m not one of them-” “Come on, you haven’t any time to lose!” he replied, ushering me back outside. I obviously wasn’t going to get through to him, but I had another lead now – Grelod the Kind. With that, I left the home and made my way to the Palace of the Kings.
I was surprised to see that the guards were simply letting anyone into the palace, and made my way through the massive doors and threw off my hood. Ulfric sat at the far end on the hall on a rough stone throne. The guards recognised me and grabbed the hafts of their axes, but Ulfric waved them down. “Jarl Ulfric,” I said, striding down the hall. “I have something for you from Jarl Balgruuf.” That raised his eyebrows. “Well, Dragonborn, be quick about it. You have chosen the wrong side in this war – do not overstay your welcome here,” he said in his deep accented voice. I produced Balgruuf’s axe from my pack, causing the guards to feel for their weapons again, and placed it on Ulfric’s lap. Ulfric ran his eyes over the weapon and handed it back to me, with a sly grin on his face. “Go give Balgruuf back his axe. And let him know he should be ready to entertain... guests.” He called over his general before one of the guards escorted me out of the hall. Horns were already echoing throughout the walls as I ran out of the city and back to the stables – the Stormcloaks had begun their march.
Tossing a few septims to the stablehand, I jumped onto my horse and made for the north-west road. The Stormcloaks would be taking the south road, so I had no time to lose. But Skyrim wasn’t going to make this journey easy – within a few minutes I was set upon by a pair of Ice Wraiths. I dismounted a drew my swords, waiting for them to approach closer. One of them surged forward, and I dodged to the left, breaking its side with a powerful flurry of strikes. The next had made its way behind me though, and embedded its sharp teeth in my upper arm. Ramming my other blade through the beasts body made it detach and shriek in pain, and it backed off for a few seconds. I took this opportunity to get to higher ground before it attacked again. This time as it charged again it was met with a thu’um. A wave of flame met the creature of ice, shattering the wraith in an explosion of icy shards. 
After collecting their teeth, I went to remount my horse and continue my journey – but it was nowhere to be seen! I searched for quite some time, around 20 minutes – but there was simply no trace of the beast. Whiterun’s plight was become more desperate by the minute, especially with no steed to carry me. I had to press on.
I made good time along the road, until I was met by a man, who looked to be nothing more than a farmer, running from an ice wraith. He screamed at me for help – I had no choice but to oblige. He cowered on the ground and the beast turned to me, but a lone ice wraith posed little challenge. It fell to my blade and thu’um, and I helped the man up. “What are you doing out here?” “I’m off to join the Stormcloaks! I hear Jarl Ulfric is finally taking the fight to the Empire!” I should’ve left him to the Ice Wraith. “You’re going to be on the losing side. Is this really worth your life?” “You! You’re one of those faithless Imperial dogs!” “I’d watch who you say that to,” I replied, my expression growing ever angrier. He must’ve thought he had a chance to take me by surprise, as his dagger was hurtling towards my side within a second. Stopping it with the heavy leather backing on my gauntlet, I spoke again. “I’m giving you one chance to back out of this,” I said to the dumbfounded man. “We need to stand united to have any chances of defeating the Tha-” “Enough of your lies, Imperial!” It seemed I would have no choice but to battle. He drew his sword and made a undisciplined overhead swing. Parrying it with my blades, I disarmed him and kicked his sword off the cliff into the lake. “Go home to your family,” I said. “You can’t defeat me!” It seemed he would not listen to reason, as he drew his dagger and charged again. I had no choice but to kill him. Parrying the dagger with one hand, I thrust my other blade through his heart. As he drew his last breaths, I lay his hands and sword on his chest and continued along my way.
Yet more ice wraiths assailed me further along the path – but I didn’t escape this encounter uninjured. I had lay down, and concentrated on healing the wounds on my shoulder and legs. But I was interrupted by the sound of soft feet approaching. Stopping the spell, I looked up to see a pack of wolves not 10 metres in front of me. “Gods, not now...” I thought to myself. Fumbling through my pack for a healing potion, I realised I’d made a terrible mistake. Almost all of my potions and ingredients were in my horse’s saddlebags! I found one and rapidly uncorked it and swallowed, my wounds healing over in seconds. I drew my swords as the 3 wolves surrounded me, and made for the one on my right. Jumping towards the beast, I pinned it to the ground with both my swords in its belly, before being knocked aside by one of the others, dropping my swords. I was knocked prone and the beast went straight for my neck. With a blast of “FUS RO DAH!” the wolf was sent tumbling backwards over the cliff, but not before it had wounded me a little. Picking myself up and wiping the blood from my armor, the last beast pounced. Steeling myself, I punched the wolf square in the nose before finishing it off with a quick thrust from my blade. Searching through my pack, I only had 4 healing potions left. I’d better use them well.
I made my way down the cliff to avoid a troop of Stormcloaks travelling to Windhelm. I could skirt around the edge of the lake, something that would take no longer that using the road. I made good time along the icy bank, but a foul stench pervaded the air. I soon found its source. A small group of horkers had been killed here – half eaten with their innards splayed out all over the ground. And a series of bear paw prints around the dead beasts... I dived to the side just as a large snowy bear lunged at me. I regained my footing and drew my bow, dipping it in one of my few remaining poisons – a slowing mixture made from River Betty and Deathbell. The bear crashed to the ground after missing its brutal lunge, and I began to pepper it with arrows. A roar of rage echoed off the cliffs as the beast ran towards me – the arrows didn’t seem to be doing too much but I was slowly whittling the beast down. The poison soon wore off, and the beast didn’t seem to be slowed down by the arrows stuck in its hide. Lunging at me again, I was a little too slow. The sharp claws raked my chest, drawing no small amount of blood. As it followed up for a second swipe, I shouted “TIID!” Time slowed to a crawl, and I drew my swords, moving around to strike the bear in the side. Thrusting my blades into the beast’s hide, I dragged them backwards opening up two massive wounds. The bear roared again, throwing its entire weight on me. The shout wore off just as I was dodging out of the way – my ankle was caught under the bear’s weight. Stabbing the flesh around it, I released my leg and got to my feet, spinning around and swinging my sword right into the bear’s mouth. 
Victory was mine, but I had only 3 potions left.
The afternoon drew ever onward as I reached the mountain pass between the Pale and Whiterun Hold. After being ambushed by a Frost Troll and Frostbite Spider, I managed to lure them into a nearby Giant camp and disappear. But not before being poisoned by the spider and taking a grazing blow from the troll. I needed to reach Whiterun soon – the Stormcloaks wouldn’t have delayed. But Skyrim wasn’t finished with me yet. A dragon word wall loomed out of the trees in the distance, but no dragon was guarding it. Then a black shadow passed overhead, lighting the forest below ablaze. Drinking a stamina potion, I dived behind a boulder as its fiery maw opened again.
Snow all around me melted away, and I ducked out to fire an arrow. I hit it in the wing, and its flight faltered for a moment. I hadn’t the arrows to bring it down by killing it, but if I could tear enough holes in the wings, I could bring it down and finish it off. A game of cat and mouse ensued, the dragon’s frustration, and the number of wing punctures, was growing steadily. I’d had to down another health potion after a burning branch collapsed onto my shoulder, but I’d otherwise managed to avoid the dragon. I dashed through the forest, firing back up at the dragon. It had to come down soon. Sure enough, one of its wings clipped the top of a tall tree, sending it into a dive. It crash-landed up at the clearing near the word wall – and it had lost sight of me. Drinking an invisibility potion, I crept up to the wounded beast. Just as the potion was going to wear off, I leapt onto the dragon’s head, swords drawn. Holding on with one hand and my legs, I repeatedly drove my blade into its head. It managed to throw me off after 10 seconds or so, but I managed one last slash before I was out of range. The beast was dead! It slumped to the ground, motionless as I absorbed its soul. 
The energy lit up the clearing, revealing three new words of power on the wall. I decided to draw upon the dragon’s knowledge only when I needed to. Whiterun was nearby, but yet one more obstacle stood in my path. A tomb just by the word wall burst open, and out floated an armoured wisp-like figure with a hooded mask, wielding a staff. It looked at me quizzically for a second, and I knew it wasn’t here to talk. Sprinting as fast as I could up the slope towards Whiterun, the thing fired fireballs from its staff at me. Some flew off into the evening sky, some exploded on the slope – but, luckily, none struck me. Down to my last potion, I was finally in sight of Whiterun.
The Stormcloaks hadn’t wasted any time – I could already see their line of torches by the White River, on the opposite side. Thankfully I spotted legionnaires in the city as I entered, and ran panting up to Dragonsreach. “Balgruuf! Jarl Balgruuf! The Stormcloaks are coming!” I shouted. He rose from his throne. “Dragonborn? Are you alright?” I must’ve looked terrible. Scorched and dented right pauldron, torn chestplate, broken boot buckles, not to mention all the other damage I’d taken over the day. “I lost my horse on my return from Windhelm. It doesn’t matter now; you must prepare a defense!” It seemed the adrenaline had worn off – I was beginning to feel faint. I stumbled up the stairs and took Balgruuf’s axe from my pack, presented it to him and collapsed. The last thing I heard was “Get him to the temple...”
I awoke on one of the stone beds in the Temple of Kynareth, the priestess sitting by me. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” She said. “Just try not to charge off into battle – I’m sure General Tullius’ men can handle it.” I could hear the guards outside putting up barricades and ordering the people inside. The priestess’ healing had done wonders – far better than I ever could have. She left my side as stretchers of wounded legionnaires and Balgruuf’s men alike were brought into the temple. I itched to join the men down at the gates, defending the city from the rebels. Minutes past, and the temple was filled with the cries of agony from the wounded soldiers, and the soft orange glow of healing magic. But I soon got my chance to fight. An explosive projectile, assumedly from a Stormcloak catapult, blasted the roof open. The priestess ordered her assistants to take the wounded deeper inside, and gestured to me. “If you want to fight, Aedric; now’s your chance!” A horn echoed throughout the city. “Fall back to the drawbridge!” an Imperial voice shouted. I recognised Rikke’s voice immediately. “The gates are lost, move it!” The priestess began casting a spell to put the flames out, when the temple door suddenly burst open – it was Matthias. “Matthias?” I asked. “What are you doing here?” “Getting you out of this bed! Come on, your gear is down by the forge – Adrienne fixed it up!” He led me out of the temple and through the streets, some of the buildings damaged or destroyed. Throwing me my leather cuirass, bow and two sheathed swords, I quickly put them on and made my way out of the gates. “I’ll be back!” Matthias shouted, before disappearing. The Imperials were being slowly but steadily pushed back – if the Stormcloaks breached the drawbridge, the Stormcloaks would easily pour into the city. Lines of Imperial archers stood on the walls, raining arrows upon the advancing Stormcloak troops, with some armoured Legionnaires, Balgruuf’s men, as well as Legate Rikke stood on the front line. Balgruuf himself was there, wearing an impressive set of steel plate armor, felling a Stormcloak with each swing of his war axe. I approached one of the archers on the wall. “What’s the situation?” “Aedric, you’re here! We need to hold the drawbridge at any cost – but with the Stormcloak catapults firing on us it’s a hard task! These rebels are well equipped and fearless warriors!” “Keep up the good work, soldier!” With a nod he nocked an arrow, striking a Stormcloak in the neck, killing her instantly. The Stormcloaks were pushing up against the Imperials – their large battleaxes shattering Imperial shields. “RIKKE!” I shouted. “MOVE!” I jumped from the wall and landed where she was standing barely a second ago.
“FUS RO DAH!”
The defenders cheered as the Stormcloak lines toppled backward, troops being blasted away and knocked onto each other. The Imperial forces surged over the prone Stormcloak troops, trampling and finishing them off. The Imperials solidified their position at the small bridge in front of the gate. Just then the night sky lit up with a huge explosion. “Legate!” one of the men shouted. “The catapults have been destroyed!” Another cheer bolstered the troops’ morale. I shook my head. “Matthias...” I grabbed some arrows from a fallen Stormcloak’s quiver, drew my bow and began picking off the scattered Stormcloaks before they could form up again. Hadvar walked up to my side. “A little flashy, don’t you think?” he asked. “Who, me or Matthias?” I replied, striking down another man. Matthias reappeared beside us wielding a spectral bow. “Don’t you two go talking about me behind my back, eh?”
We managed to drive out the remaining Stormcloaks over the next 15 minutes, almost decimating their entire force. The Imperial losses were high though; over half the force sent to defend Whiterun was dead. Jarl Balgruuf approached me, his previously gleaming plate armor coated in blood and gore. “Didn’t expect to see you out of the Temple, Aedric!” “Just glad to help out, Jarl.” “You turned the tide in that battle, Aedric. If it wasn’t for you the Stormcloaks would probably be holding my city by now. You might recall a house for sale in town?” I could see where this was going. “Breezehome, right?” “It’s yours. A token of my thanks, Dragonborn.” “It was an honor to serve.” Balgruuf strode back into the city with his guards, and Rikke approached me. “Aedric!” she shouted, angrily. “That was reckless and stupid. You could’ve been killed!” “If it wasn’t for that we’d probably all be killed!” “Hmph. Well report back in at Solitude when you’re ready – Ulfric’s started a war, and we’re going to finish it!”
The Jarl let me stay in the guest rooms in Dragonsreach for the night. So much had happened today – yet so many possibilities lay before me for tomorrow.
There's a multitude of tasks for Aedric to complete, mainly in the Rift. Choose a couple you think are the most important!
1. Return to the Legion (Haafingar, Imperial Legion)
2. Investigate the Dark Brotherhood (The Rift, Personal)
3. Return to the Thieves Guild with information from Gulum-Ei (The Rift, Thieves Guild)
4. Return to Riften to find Esbern (The Rift, Dragon Investigation)
5. Go back to Shor's Stone to see Sylgja (The Rift, Personal)
6. Other (let me know in your comment)
Well, I'll just say it's good to be back! My memory of that gaming session almost 2 months ago is mostly intact, so let me know what you think 
New chapter is up, read it here
Comments
I liked the potion countdown, as it added another sense of urgency to his ... more