U.O.T.W. Chapter 193 The Last Thread of Peace

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    Even before Windhelm came into view, Sotek found the landscape depressing. The snowy rocky surroundings held in tightly by various mountainsides dotted across the horizon all seemed to compress the air, making it thick and hard to breathe. His breath misted up every time he exhaled, like he was breathing out clouds of smoke.

     

    As he followed the river he noticed how everything was covered in snow, so unlike the plains of Whiterun. Thick frost gripped itself tightly around anything which the snow had failed to touch. No wonder the Jarl Ulfric wanted that hold so badly; even the roads were smothered. Only the fresh horse tracks gave any indication that the road was there at all.

     

    The path led to a long stone bridge but unlike Whiterun, these blocks of stone were of a dark grey rock, making the whole city look murky, damp and depressing. He rode past the bridge and stopped at the stables so he could unburden himself of the extra horses. Once he pocketed the pouch of gold in his pack, he handed his own stallion to the stable hand so it would be fed and watered. With his horse being cared for, he was now free to make his way over the bridge of Windhelm.

     

    As he crossed the long bridge that span the length of the river, he examined his surroundings once more. To the east he saw the docks which had various trade ships in port. There on the far bank he saw the distinctive homesteads of two farms, both of them smothered in snow. He couldn’t help but feel how hard life must be here in the city and the local agricultural workers. At that point he wondered whether he was on the right side, Whiterun had everything yet its neighbour struggled. Even the very earth, frozen like ice fought against the farmers. He found himself wondering about the Argonian race as a whole. They were a deprived people. He felt inside just maybe that was why Ulfric waged this war. Maybe he just wanted his people to be fed and kept warm. Whiterun could so easily share in its untold wealth of wheat and mead. There was too much stock in gold at times. What use is gold when you are alone and hungry? What use is a ruby when you are dying of thirst or freezing from the elements?

     

    As he walked along the final approach he gazed upon the overly large double doors that kept the hostile environment from the city. Taking a deep breath, he pushed on the doors and entered Windhelm.

     

    Sotek had to look twice at the state of the streets. The comparison to Whiterun was nearly inconceivable. Large stone laden walls surrounded the entire city over twice the size of Whiterun’s own defences. Alleys went in all directions turning round in tight corners, passing entire blocks of run down houses. All the plant life he could see was either dead or dying, Sotek immediately felt for the people here, he felt once again that just maybe he was on the wrong side.

     

    As he walked along the initial street he heard two Nord men yelling at a much older Dark Elf woman. One of the Nord’s pushed her to the ground then made some threats at her. Sotek stepped between them and the woman, blocking their route to her by using his own body as a shield. They both cast him a look and shook their fists at him, switching their hostility to him.

    “You! You’re no son of Skyrim! Soon we’ll kick you all out; just like her”. The Nord then went to kick the dark elf but Sotek stepped in his way. He gave Sotek a shove then they both turned and walked off.

     

    He bent down then helped the Dark Elf up; she looked at the two Nords then turned to him.

    “Don’t expect any welcome here, get out while you can. They remember faces; they will come looking for you if you remain here. Get out”.

     

    “What’s up with them?” Sotek asked as he kept a wary eye on the man as they disappeared around on of the numerous street corners.

     

    “Them? They are Stormcloaks. If you’re not a Nord then you’re not welcome. You Argonians are only allowed at the docks. What are you doing here?”

     

    “Never mind my business”. Sotek stated in a rather harsh manner. He quickly apologised for being so harsh with his response and enquired about the woman’s situation.

    “What are you doing here if you’re not welcome?”

     

    “Me? I live here; I can’t afford to move out else I would have years ago”.

     

    Sotek was a bit surprised in the revelation that other Argonians were in the city. He hadn’t seen many Argonians about and to learn there are some in Windhelm was certainly a surprise.

    “There’s Argonians in the docks? Kind of makes sense I suppose as they are often found working in Cyrodiil’s dockyards and harbours”

     

    “Oh yes, come with me”. She led him down some alleyways through the poorly kept streets. There was a blacksmith and a market place which they walked through, but even the market looked rundown. Eventually she showed him the docks where some Argonians were working. “They live in that warehouse”.

     

    Sotek gazed across the docks to a large dingy looking warehouse. It had clearly seen better days and by the look of it, it was in no shape to harbour rats in a storm let alone any trade goods. “They share a warehouse? Haven’t they got their own homes?”

     

    She shook her head at him and laughed at his naivety.

    “They don’t even have their own rooms. Come along, the streets aren’t safe”.

     

    Then she walked him on a bit further, to what he could only describe as slums. The woman entered through a doorway which was putting the entrance nicely for it was in reality a hole.

    “This is my home; it’s not much but its mine”.

     

    He looked at the rundown street and houses; her ‘home’ was best described as an old shed, without the door. She pulled down a large old half tattered blanket to keep out the breeze. The whole area had a dank cloud of despair.

    “Doesn’t Ulfric help with housing or anything?”

     

    “Ulfric? All he cares about are his precious Stormcloaks. There! Take that path; follow it to the right. Every time I go down there it breaks my heart”.

     

    Sotek solemnly followed the path like he was instructed. Soon enough he found himself in what could only be described as the rich side of town. All the plants were in bloom and obviously cared for while the paths changed from mud to nice solid intricate stone work. The houses were massive with fancy wooden carvings as well. He knew then of two things; first off, one side lived in luxury while the other was in poverty and he was on the right side of the war. He couldn’t allow Whiterun to change into this.

     

    Without wasting any more time he made his way to what was referred to as the ‘Palace of the Kings’. Initially Sotek wasn’t sure what to expect but the more he saw and heard of the city and its residents, the more absolute his belief in that Ulfric needed to be stopped become.

     

    He found what he was looking for purely by chance. He happened to turn one of the many twisting pathways to find himself as the base of a large courtyard wide flight of stairs. Twenty men could stand side by side on the steps and you would still have room to walk around them. Sotek’s tactical mind came to the fore as he examined the layout.

     

    ‘Yes’ he conceived. You could storm an assault with a large squad of soldiers up the steps but what lies ahead? He memorised the fact that beyond the steps were two solid walls with a narrow passageway going between them, forming a choke point. Ten men, positioned just behind this point could easily hold back a thousand. Any head on assault would surely fail. ‘I’ve come to make peace and I’m plotting a city assault? Could it be Sotek that you know that war is inevitable?’ He thought about Whiterun’s own defences and shuddered. There was a single gatehouse which was way too open and exposed; when that fell then the city would be overrun in minutes.

     

    Leaving such thoughts behind, he climbed the stairway, and attempted to pass two guards who were warming themselves by a brazier. They both eyed him suspiciously and challenged his approach. Once he explained his reason for the visit, one of the guards called over a third man who escorted the Companion beyond the threshold of the palace’s grounds. Three large stone braziers lead through the middle of the courtyard, bathing the whole area in an orangey glow from the fire. To Sotek’s right, he noticed another pathway which ended at a sharp corner. He wished he had an opportunity to see where it would lead but now it was too late. Such a task was impossible due to his escort.

     

    He passed by yet more guards who were patrolling the area to find himself facing a set of double doors. The timber was wrought in iron, strengthening the doorway tenfold beyond its natural durability. Cringing to himself when he saw how thick the door was when it opened, he proceeded to enter the palace.

     

    The guard, who stayed by his side, held his shoulder, forcing him to stop just inside a vast hall before calling out to a small boy. The page approached the soldier while his eyes opened wide as he examined Sotek’s armor. He scuttled off and ran down the length of the hallway to a man whom Sotek presumed to be an advisor. A meeting, which Sotek presumed to be a council of war, due to the constant prodding of a map of Skrim, stopped instantly and several faces turned towards the Argonian while the advisor clicked his fingers, summoning two guards to his side as he closed in upon Sotek.

    “Who the blazes are you and what do you want? How dare you come here! Back to the docks with him!”

     

    Sotek hissed at the nearest guard then freed himself from the restraint. He called out to Ulfric, who he recognised thanks to Kodlak’s description of the man and ignored the advisor completely.

    “I’m from Whiterun. I come with a message from Jarl Balgruuf”.

     

     “Oh? I have been waiting for his message”. Ulfric said as he examined the intruder in his hall. “What is it then?” Ulfric stood up straight and walked boldly across the floor towards his throne. He had a certain strut in his step; one of a man of great bearing. Something Sotek cared little about.

     

    Sotek produced the axe which was wrapped in cloth and offered the weapon to the Nord who was initially surprised. He shook his head solemnly then nodded back at the Companion.

     

    “What is this? Oh I see. Very well, take it back to him; he will need it. Tell him to expect visitors, very soon. Oh yes... I trust that Kodlak is still there, acting as the Harbinger?”

     

    “Yes he is Harbinger”. Sotek stated suspiciously.

     

    “Good; and I trust that his dog’s Vilkas, Farkas and Aela are still there as well?” Jarl Ulfric had a sly look about him, something Sotek was quick to notice.

     

    The Argonian didn’t like the way one of the other Nord was grinning either; some sick joke lost to Sotek perhaps.

    “Yes. What of them?”

     

    “I trust you can relate a simple message?” Ulfric said as he grinned evilly.

     

    Sotek felt unusually angry, he held himself in check as he replied.

    “Yess”.

     

    “Good; I want you to give them something from me”. The Jarl brazenly walked right up to Sotek and pulled off his gauntlet. With no care in the world he swung it at Sotek’s face; cutting his cheek in the process.

    “They will know of that meaning. Now get out while you still draw breath”.

     

    Sotek eyed the Nord coldly then turned around and headed towards the door. He knew now wasn’t the time to fight. He was alone in a city he didn’t know and was completely outnumbered. To allow himself to act on impulse was foolish yet a part of Sotek couldn’t just walk away though. He stopped several feet away from the door and glanced over his shoulder.

    “We will stop you”.

     

    “Oh no doubt you will try”. Ufric sneered. “No, I honestly think you won’t. You will all turn and run; like the cowardly dogs that you are”.

     

    Sotek may have looked calm and controlled but his tail was far from happy. It slashed about and thumped down on the floor several times causing Sotek to cringe from the impact.

    “I don’t run from a fight”. He wanted to say more but instead he walked outside, seething with anger.

     

    Ulfric shouted out one last thing which Sotek, having just moments before stepped outside, could only just make out.

    “You just did”. The Jarl’s condescending laughter was quickly joined by the mocking cries of several other Nords.

     

    Sotek stopped then slowly faced the door. He replied softly but if there was someone next to him then they would have sworn to the Nines that he meant every word. Each one was fortified by his own undeniable will.

    “No I haven’t, that wasn’t my fight; but it will be....” He quickly made his way through the streets then left Windhelm. Once he mounted up on his horse, he galloped out from the stables as fast as he could and headed back towards Whiterun.

     

    A few hours later, while Sotek was still well within Windhelm’s borders, he found himself on the wrong trail and was forced to turn around and head back the way he came. The pathways looked different from when he travelled to Windhelm and the waypoints he had picked out along his route were all but useless as he was travelling in the opposite direction. It was only when he doubled back did he realise his mistake. The trial to Whiterun veered off the main pathway or at least what he had previously believed the main pathway to be.

     

    He soon wished however that he had stuck to the wrong path for now his route was blocked by three Nord horsemen. Their horses were beside one another forming a solid wall of stallions. The centre Nord, one who Sotek recognised from when he intervened with the attack on the Dark Elf, spurred his horse on and started slowly moving towards the Companion.

    “So you’re not a dockworker at all but a horse thief! See lads, he’s the one that stole those horses”.

     

    The second Nord who Sotek had ‘met’ earlier sneered as he pulled out a large coil of rope from behind his saddle. He grinned, showing his teeth, mocking a wolf’s snarl.

    “We hang thieves... There’s no she-wolf to save you this time! Let’s get him”.

     

    The third man sat silent upon his horse. He was content to watch while the other two men who Sotek had already noticed were poorly armed, were busy goading the Companion into a very much one sided fight.

     

    Sotek climbed off his horse and approached the third member of the party, making sure to keep the third man’s horse between him and the other men. The man he closed in upon was clad in steel armor and he had a large shining shield by his side. The shaft of a lethal looking mace hung, strapped to his back. Sotek never failed to notice the man’s hand which was a mere few inches away from the unmistakable silvery sheen of a silver dagger tucked in a small scabbard in his belt.

     

    Knowing a fight was inevitable, Sotek ignored his own weapons and chose to attack unarmed. He grabbed the man by the side and used all his strength and weight to dislodge the Nord from the saddle. The man yelled as his face filled with shock as he was pulled off his horse and flung down by the side of the pathway.

     

    The other two men drew their weapons but they were unable to offer any immediate assistance as the third horse was in their way. Sotek was in no mood to mess about; he changed instantly into Scarface who howled out as he stamped down with all his force onto the steel clad warrior who was struggling to climb up on his feet. He screamed as his chest imploded with all the force Scarface could muster.

     

    Hooves alerted the werewolf to the other riders but Scarface never gave them a chance to close in. In a blinding flash, Scarface swiped the horse off its hooves and flung it into the two riders, knocking them and their own mounts to the ground. Both horses whined as they kicked out their hoofs, pulling themselves up so they could gallop off away from the danger, leaving their riders winded and prone on the floor.

     

    Wasting no time at all, Scarface charged at them literally tearing a swathe of blood as he ripped into the Stormcloaks. Not one of them stood a chance as he swiped and clawed at the two of them. Within moments he stood over the dead bodies then, as before, he started to feed. Only when he finished did he look up at the sky, it was just turning evening. With a final howl, he let go of his hold, allowing Sotek to regain control.

     

    The Argonian wiped away the blood which covered his face with his sleeve before he began looting the bodies in the hope of finding a few things which he could sell. As he held up the dagger to examine it in the light, the sun caught his eye. Or rather the position of it did.

     

    He realised he had changed earlier that day. Within moments Sotek had transformed back to his werewolf form. Scarface looked down at himself in confusion and whined; softly crying out to anyone in the hope someone could explain what had happened.

     

    Sotek changed back to his Argonian form and looked perplexed as he examined his arms and legs. His tail swished about and flapped around sporadically, adding to his own confusion. He tried to change again. After just a few seconds Scarface was there looking at himself. Feeling somewhat confused, he howled out angrily, taking his temper out on the trees and rocks while he sniffed around where he stood for answers to something beyond his own animalistic comprehension. Sotek changed several times into Scarface and back, trying to work out how it was possible. Then he remembered the ring.

     

    He took it off and placed it in his pocket before trying to change once more but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t do it. As soon as he placed it back on his finger and tried to change again he did so. Within moments Scarface was standing there, and then he changed back once more into Sotek. He took the ring off then examined it more closely. Smiling to himself, he couldn’t help but think of Aela.

    “Oh wow, she is going to be soo pisssed at this”.

     

    Putting the ring back on, he remounted his horse then headed off once again towards Whiterun.

     

     

Comments

5 Comments   |   Meli and 10 others like this.
  • Ebonslayer
    Ebonslayer   ·  August 14, 2017
    I can only picture Scarface crying because he's confused, that's hilarious to think about.
    • Sotek
      Sotek
      Ebonslayer
      Ebonslayer
      Ebonslayer
      I can only picture Scarface crying because he's confused, that's hilarious to think about.
        ·  August 16, 2017
      Yea the poor hound, howling out at everything in vain...  Again an opportunity to show the beast's side of things. 
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  January 31, 2017
    Ooooo, Ulfric hits him.
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  January 30, 2017
    Well I ain't telling her that's for sure.....  :-X
  • The Sunflower Manual
    The Sunflower Manual   ·  January 29, 2017
    I shudder to think of Aela's tantrum when she finds out about the Ring of Hircine.