U.O.T.W. Chapter 211 Southward Bound

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    Inside Fort Dunstad supplies were divided up between the fort and what was needed for the new camp which was to be situated in the Rift. It was well into the evening and Legate Rikke was getting impatient.

    “By the Eights this is intolerable! Hurry up with those sacks damn it”.

     

    Sotek sat there watching beads of frustrated sweat trickle down Rikke’s brow. The Argonian couldn’t help himself; he had to chuckle at her.

    “Are all the Nord females this impatient or am I just plain unlucky?”

     

    “I beg your pardon!” Rikke blurted out in disgust. “I’m no common Nord. I would have you know I’m of prime stock thank you very much”.

     

    Sotek roared in laughter and hissed back his response to Rikke’s reprimand.

    “What, like quality cow or soemthing? Oh no offence intended but that does explain it”.

     

    “Explains what?” The legate officer asked or rather demanded.


    Sotek gave a short laugh and raised a spiky eyebrow at her outburst.

    “The answer to my question; I’m unlucky. Look, you’re stomping around like Aela does but then she’s the only female werewolf in Whiterun. I know that puts her under a lot of pressure and she has a heart of a Nord as well. Imagine how she feels; the heart of a female Nord with beast blood flowing through her veins. Tell me, what’s your excuse for such behavior?”

     

    She came over to him kicking a barrel as she did so.

    “What’s my excuse for being angry? We were supposed to have left hours ago. Look around… oh look, we’re still bloody here!”

     

    “We will leave when we’re ready and not a moment before”. Sotek stated, wrestling command away from Rikke’s hands. “Calm down will you? Look around; your men are tired. Don’t forget half of these soldiers fought a battle today”.

     

    “Yes you’re right, it’s just… I know Tullius is watching me, he’s judging my ability; I’m hoping to get a rank up if this goes well then my promotions assured”.

     

    “At the cost of how many men? And what of moral? Promotion always carries a cost. Don’t make that cost these men and women. Come on, you know these soldiers, cut them some slack. Sit back and watch them for a few minutes. My mother always used to say; ‘The world always looks different if you take a few minutes to sit back and look at it’. Wise words…”

     

    Rikke stood the barrel back up then sat on it and watched like Sotek suggested. She saw just how tired the men actually were, it was like a vail was lifted up from covering her eyes allowing her to see clearly for the first time that day.

    She slowly turned to Sotek as realism came crashing down upon her.

    “We aren’t leaving tonight are we?”

     

    “Yes we are; we’ll leave soon enough. Enough talk; let’s help them with the sacks”. He then got up and gave Rikke’s arm a tug, shifting her backside off the barrel. The pair of them went over to the supplies and started carrying them to the carts. Soon enough the wagons were ready, then they were off on their way heading south along the road for Ivarstead, leaving the fort behind.

     

    “We’ll be lucky if we get there by midday”. Rikke grumbled. As she turned back to the fort, she watched the imperial flag flying high. She turned to the carts and the troops marching and felt a sense of pride. “We are winning; we’re actually winning this war”.

     

    Sotek smiled at the change which came over her. Dampened spirits were easily lifted; all it takes are a few humble words.

    “Yes, we are. There’s still a way to go mind you but Ulfric will answer for what he’s done”.

     

    The first few hours of the Imperial forces journey was blighted with heavy snow from the mountains which done its best to slow down the carts. Despite nature’s attempts at delaying legate Rikke’s plans, she managed to keep the force moving at a reasonable pace.

     

    As they passed through the snowy forest, a skirmisher who was patrolling the edge of the tree line, cried out and fell to the ground. Three other scouts ran to his aid to be promptly set upon by giant spiders. Sotek yelled at the scouts to duck as he slid out of his saddle and ran towards them. Flames smothered his right hand and he haphazardly threw a fireball towards the spiders hoping to claim an early hit. In his haste he missed the two beasts altogether. Both spiders reeled away from the scorching heat as the fireball exploded harmlessly against a tree.

     

    High pitch screeches signaled the spiders to attack. Sotek blanked them for a few precious seconds as he concentrated on the wounded soldier. 

     

    Guards shouted out the alert, drawing in the might of the Imperial force.

    “Frostbite spiders, two in the in the trees”.

     

    While Sotek was crouched down by the stricken soldier in order to heal him, fire, lightening and the deathly cold touch of frost washed over their heads as three battle mages cast their spells.

     

    Sotek looked up at where his fireball had hit. Although it had missed his intended target, the flames illuminated the area, betraying the two spider’s locations. Having such targets presented to them, the battle mages couldn’t help but miss.

     

    The area in which the spiders were crawling through erupted in flames while lightening arced between the two beasts as frost tore into them, slowing them down thereby preventing their escape from the inferno.

     

    With deadly accuracy, archers released a volley of arrows into the arachnids bringing both beasts to the ground. Once the flames died down, Sotek examined the remains of the frostbite spiders and was lucky enough to be able to extract a vial of venom which he stored carefully in his pack.

     

    The scout, who Sotek had healed, approached the Companion, thanking him for his quick actions. As they talked about the skirmish, the soldier made a point of offering a dagger as a way of reward. Upon seeing the knife, Sotek raised his hands up and refused such a gift.  The scout closed his eyes in thought then pulled out from his pocket a broken Ebony arrow head.

    “The only other thing I have is this. I was hoping the Blacksmith could fashion an arrow from it”. He meekly said as he held the pathetic gift out as an offering.

     

    Sotek eagerly studied the black arrow head, examining the craftsmanship of the ebony piece.

    “This is perfect. With Eorlund’s help I could copy this. Ebony isn’t something I have used much but I’m eager to try. Thank you”. He brushed any further thanks aside and secured the arrow head in his pack just in time before Rikke called out to the troops, ordering the force to move once more.

     

    Further along the roadway, once they left the forest behind them, the Imperial detachment slowed down yet again. This time however it was due to the approach of a junction.  A particular crossroads which had the added feature of two Nords who were lazily leaning against the sign post for Riften

     

    Although he hadn’t seen them before, Sotek recognized their stance and the choice of weapons they all too readily wielded. In a hasty tone he hissed his warning to Rikke.

    Ssilverhandss, possibly in the pay of Ulfric. They’ll attack me on ssight”.

     

    Really?” Legate Rikke replied with a raised eyebrow. “What an interesting time you must have had in Windhelm. Tell me Sotek, are you always this popular?”

     

    Sotek chuckled as a mental picture formed in his mind. He gazed back to the past and tutted at a pathetic specimen of an Argonian dressed in iron armor. He could smell the mead in the hall as he stepped inside for the first time; the sweat and furs which filled his nostrils and the cries of a roaring crowd as they gathered around a fist fight.

    Oh yes. When I first joined the Companions, Aela and the others tried to force me out”.

     

    Rikke turned to the troops in front and waved her hand, causing them to separate into two columns. She whispered her orders, commanding the ‘chosen men’, archers who proved their mettle in deadly accuracy in marksmanship to form a loose group between the two ranks. Each man and woman held a short bow which was hidden beneath their cloaks, ready to fire at a moments notice; hiding their intentions from the two enemy agents ahead.

    “Primus Archers, beta formation; possible ambush”.

     

    As the detachment cautiously approached the Silverhands, one of them stepped forwards flagging down the cart in which Sotek and Legate Rikke was now riding. The Nord eyed the Argonian carefully while he spoke with some authority to the Legate officer.

    “Hello there. I am sorry to force you to a halt but we have certain matters of law to discuss; laws concerning this Argonian. As Imperials you have a duty to the laws of the land and those of the Thalmor do you not? Indeed so you do”. He then turned to Sotek and talked to him directly, almost accusing him on the spot.

    “You! You’re Sotek are you not? Of the Companions?”

     

    Sotek gingerly climbed down off the cart, taking care not to move between the archers and the two Silverhands. He exchanged glances with Rikke who gave the slightest of nods, letting him know he wouldn’t stand alone. Knowing he had the backing of Legate Rikke’s forces changed very little in Sotek’s eyes. With or without the mass of troops to aid him, the Silverhand were dead.

    “Yes I am. And you are?”

     

    The second Silverhand stepped forwards a few paces and drew his short sword. The blade shone brightly with the sheen of silver magnified in the keen edge of the weapon.

    “You know who we are. Legate, sorry I don’t know your name; you’re travelling with a werewolf, do you know that? You don’t need either of us to remind you that if the Thalmor found out they would kill all of you. All I want is for you to hand him over and we will be on our way and you may continue in peace and safety from such condemned beasts”.

     

    Instead of stepping down herself, Rikke lent forwards and spoke. She had a glint in the corner of her eye, showing a stout dependable heart; one which wouldn’t falter from duty or death; if such a gesture was needed.

    “And what would you do with the scum?” She may have talked the talk but her mind was far from compliant with their request. Thalmor rules or not, Rikke had her orders and two Silverhands weren’t going to stop her from carrying them out.

     

     

    “Simple, we will kill him”. The Silverhand replied. “As you put, it he’s scum”.

     

    Rikke looked hard at Sotek then she raised her hand as if to slap him hard.

    “Well they are right on one account. I don’t need either of them”. 

     

    A puzzled expression filled the Argonian’s face which was equaled to the looks of the two Silverhands as Rikke shouted out.

    “Fire!”

     

    Sotek ducked back, shying away from the archers who yanked back their cloaks. A multitude of arrows tore into the Silverhands peppering their torsos with blackened ebony shafts, cutting them down where they stood.

     

    A third Silverhand, who was on horseback, broke cover from where he was hiding and spurred the steed towards the tree line. Despite the horses speed he barely made ten feet when no less than five ebony shafts protruded from his back. He cried out as the horse faltered then he toppled to the side, falling out of the saddle. The horse, startled with the shouts and cries, along with the rider, dangling by its side due to his foot being caught up in the saddle straps, bolted away from the troops, dragging the dead body along with it.

     

    Now that the threat had been dealt with, Sotek picked himself up off the ground and dusted himself off while Rikke grinned down at him. She snidely commented on his ‘heroic actions’, making him the butt of her joke.

    “That was fast. If you run towards the enemy as quickly as you dive out of the way you will be a great asset”.

     

    Sotek hissed to himself then he glanced at her backside. He eyed her rump and compared it to the horse that was pulling the wagon.

    “I’ll never be as useful as you. Some ass... sets are rare, especially when they are so similar”. As he spoke he pointed to the horse in front.

     

    The Legate officer paused as she tried to work out what he had said. She knew he answered her back and that he had scored a few points at the same time for a few of the soldiers nearby started sniggering but whatever it was he had said she missed it.

     

    She thought about asking him to repeat it but the last thing she wanted was to give her troops further reasons to laugh.

    “What? Could you… search the bodies? See what information they have. Be sure to check the saddle”.

     

    Smirking to himself, Sotek checked over the three bodies then he opened the saddle where to his surprise, he found a letter written by Ulfric himself.

    “Now that’s better”. He gleamed as he passed it to Rikke.

     

    Upon reading the letter she raised an eyebrow and looked back at the Argonian with a new found respect. Most men she knew would buckle or at least curse yet here stood one man who seemed as calm and tranquil as a summer evening. One such evening a couple would choose to go on a pick nick on the sandy shores of one of Cyrodiil’s bays.

    “You’re now worth one thousand gold? Quite impressive; aren’t you worried though?”

     

    Sotek laughed out loudly and shook his head.

    “Not as much as Ulfric is if he has to lower himself to such drastic and foolhardy actions”. He rested his boot on the footplate of the wagon and surveyed the road ahead while he fell silent, deep in thought.

     

    After a few moments spent in a solitary state, Sotek looked up at Rikke and asked he about Imperial bounties.

    “How does someone set up a bounty?”

     

    “For you it’s simple” Legate Rikke replied. “All you need to do is ask the Imperial legion to set it up. That way it’s all nice and legal. Why may I ask?” She couldn’t help herself. Curiosity buzzed around her head like a swarm of rampaging wasps.

     

    Sotek cast his mind back to when Aela, the Whelp and himself pitted the Imperial camp against the Silverhands which caused him to smile. He gave a knowing wink at Rikke and chuckled.

    “Oh I’m just remembering old times when I turned certain people against themselves. When we get to Ivarstead I want a bounty put on Ulfric’s head. Now, it’s only payable by me and let’s say… three thousand gold? That should put him under pressure and get the bounty hunters after him rather than me, don’t you think? We’ll soon find out how much it will cost to buy his men’s loyalty”.

     

    “That’s a crafty move, yes; but only if you can pay it”. She studied the Argonian once more taking note of the condition of his Dragonscale armor and the state of his pack. The armor looked expensive but the pack was a different matter. Two straps were a different shade betraying the repairs let alone a multitude of patches strewn across the bottom. She would have thought if he had gold to spare that he would have had it replaced. Such things however had a sentimental value which she failed to take into account. “Can you pay it? The state of your pack says otherwise”.

     

    Sotek felt somewhat indignant and he unconsciously shrugged his shoulder, shifting the weight of the pack on his back.

    “Yes I can; more if necessary”. He stated before walking away from her. He chose to join the skirmishers on one of the flanks where he could be by himself for a while; a self imposed cooling off period where the temptation to speak out was surely removed.

     

    Sotek stopped by the crossroads and looked on as the detachment turned eastwards where it headed towards the Nightgate inn. Leaning against the post, he watched for several minutes as the long column, five berths wide slowly made its way around the crossroads like a long snake. 

     

    When the inn came into view it was joined by three Khajiit’s who eagerly started heading towards the imperial force. Legate Rikke cursed loudly, drawing Sotek’s attention towards her.

    “Oh here we go again”.

     

    As the traders approached the carts Sotek jumped in front of one of the officers, cutting him off by placing himself at the front. He waved at Rikke, literally ordering her to join him.

     

    Leaving the detachment behind, Legate Rikke did as she was asked and quickly headed off to join Sotek’s side.

     

    Now that Rikke was alongside him, Sotek stepped forwards and greeted the Khajiits.

    “Long time it has been. How goes your travels? Warm sands I hope.  Ma’dan isn’t it?”

     

    “Hello again; warm wishes to you. It’s Ma’dran but you’re close enough friend”. The trader answered in a friendly manner. All formalities were forgotten as they warmly embraced each other, giving the caravan’s guard reason to relax.

     

    Sotek pulled off his pack then offered Ma’dran, the Khajiit trader, the swords he picked up earlier. In less than a minute they settled on a price but as Sotek climbed back on the cart Ma’dran came up to him and whispered albeit he made sure that Rikke could hear.

     “Just passed the Inn to the south is a Stormcloak camp. It might pay you to give them a visit”. Then he smiled as he and his two guards went off heading west, away from the Imperial force.

     

     As they disappeared from sight, Rikke looked over her shoulder at them and muttered in disgust.

    “Khajiit‘s, gaa I don’t trust them”.

     

    Sotek laughed at her and playfully elbowed her in the ribs.

    “Why not? Did they steal your sweet roll when you were a kid?”

     

    She chuckled at his comment and shook her head while she grinned back at him.

    “No; it’s just that they are so shifty”.

     

    “And you blame them for that when they are unwelcome in any city and despised for being covered in fur and not skin? Just like Argonians, they’re kept as simple slaves in Morrowind”. Sotek bluntly stated, cutting her down where she sat.

     

    Having found herself on the losing side of a very poor argument, she chanced sides as well as perspectives.

    “No, no I didn’t mean that, it’s just, ermm”.

     

    “I trust them”. Sotek stated, removing all traces of doubt. “And, Legate Rikke; may I point out that they have informed us about a certain Stormcloak camp?”

     

    “Yes, sorry you’re right. We can’t afford to leave it behind, they would report our position. Let’s take a look shall we?” With the bridge of friendship built once more the two of them commandeered two horses and rode off in the direction of the enemy camp.

     

    Within twenty minutes they had found the camp exactly where the Khajiit said it was. Rikke silently huffed at herself, vowing to take the Khajiit traders more seriously than what she had before.

     

    Now that such matters were behind her, she concentrated on the task ahead. The camp seemed small, with a few warriors and a couple of archers thrown in for good measure. If they acted quickly, the camp would be over run before any Stormcloak could wield a weapon let alone use it in defense.

    “There’s about six of them. Can you… Scarface take them all?”

     

    “Yes but I advise that you don’t watch. It’s pretty gruesome. He doesn’t care who is watching…”

     

    “I’ll help. He… he won’t attack me will he?” Rikke asked after she took a big gulp of air.

     

    After pausing for a few deep breaths, Sotek turned towards her and spoke sternly.

    “Well, keep eye contact. Don’t look away else he might decide you are weak. You have to hold your ground with him. Don’t stare at his eyes either; he sees that as a threat.  Keep sentences small, single words or words of the wise. Every time you finish a sentence or command, be sure to click your fingers. And don’t go getting in his way”.

     

    He knew everything he had just said was nothing but mammoth crap except the getting in the way part. Rikke recited what he had said over and over again without even realizing how much she was contradicting herself.

    “Keep eye contact but don’t stare. Keep eye contact. Don’t stare… a single click on every command”. She then clicked her thumb and finger together three times as she prepared for Sotek’s transformation.

     

    When Sotek did change form, Rikke for the first time found herself standing next to Scarface. She looked up at the behemoth standing before her and instinctively took a few steps back while her hand fell to the hilt of her sword. She pulled it away and looked up in a staring hypnotic gaze as two emerald green eyes seemed to suck up her very soul. Hoping he would recognize her as a friend she snapped her head away and pointed to the ground just as she had seen Aela do.

    “Down… down… crap click…” She clicked her finger at the beast and pointed downwards, hoping the creature would obey. All the while an inescapable fear gripped her heart. She felt terrified.

     

    Scarface turned to her and smiled, but all she saw was a werewolf who was far bigger than anything she had previously encountered, stare back at her. What made matters worse was her mesmerized look as the beasts fangs protruded out from its maw. The legate officer stumbled backwards only stopping when she backed into a tree.

     

    Scarface tilted his head to the side as he watched her, then his expression changed as he turned to the camp and gave it his full attention. Ignoring Rikke altogether, he crept closer to the camp’s sentry by prowling through the shadows then with a deafening roar he attacked, ripping into anyone that moved. The whole camp awoke; confusion and disarray its bugle. One soldier cowered in his tent as a large shadow loomed over it. He gasped in horror and disbelief when a black paw swiped across his torso, splattering blood and entrails over the walls of the shelter.

     

    Most of the Stormcloaks were dead when two men broke ranks. They ran into the night screaming out of the horror they had seen just to be cut down by a group of archers which had formed on the sidelines.

     

    Now that the camp was silent once more, bar the heavy breathing of the werewolf, Scarface began to feed. Rikke cringed when she heard the sounds of bones breaking as the beast devoured the flesh of one of the torsos. The Imperial officer forced herself to watch; knowing this was part of the package. If she was to have Red and Scarface as allies then this was part of the deal.

     

    When Sotek changed back, he ignored everyone around him and he pulled out a bottle of water from his pack then began washing himself off using a wooden bowl and a piece of linen. All through this time Legate Rikke silently looked on.

     

    When the Argonian finally acknowledged the people around him, he gave Rikke a short smile. It only stayed on his lips for a second then faded back into obscurity. He began emptying the bowl on the ground before repacking it in his bag when Rikke broke the uneasy silence.

    “Bloody hell you’re massive… ermm he’s massive? Oh whatever… he’s a big bastard isn’t he?”

     

    “Yes that has been pointed out in the past”. Sotek said with a grin. His look changed to one of a surly nature as he took in their surroundings. “We can’t stay here, the camp will be missed. By midday even Ulfric may know of its fate”.

     

    Barely five minutes had past when Rikke spurred on the cart’s horse as she watched the skirmishers spread out, marking the route ahead.

     

    They were off again heading along the mountain trail which would ultimately lead them to Ivarstead. Legate Rikke had hoped upon arriving there earlier but inwardly she was pleased with the detachment’s progress. Cheerfully she aired her opinion to the Argonian who sat beside her.

    “Unfortunately we’ll be there after dawn but considering what we have done, I think we’re doing well”.

     

    Sotek sat in silence, his eyes scanning the mountain trail ahead. It looked steep to him and he wondered how the horses would manage pulling the heavy wagons in such conditions. The Imperial army however had mastered such things and the horses were assisted by groups of soldiers pulling guide ropes and between the men and the horses, they pulled the carts up the steep slope at a slow but constant pace.

     

    As Sotek looked across the valley which formed below them, he recognized some old terrain from when he was turned into a wolf by Sheogorath. He chuckled when he remembered Red and himself as the black wolf tumbling down into the gully. Red and Aela were equals in ferocity. Something Sotek admitted to himself a while ago was a simple truth about Aela. The only feminine thing about her was the shape of her body. She didn’t look feminine and she certainly didn’t act ‘girly’. Even he had problems at times separating the beast and the girl. He pulled out from his pocket a scrap of leather which Aela had used to mop her brow. The feint yet still tangible trace of her scent filled Sotek’s nostrils like a drug. Without even being aware of it, the tip of his tail started to curve as his mind slipped away from the black wolf and Aela and refocused on sex.

     

    The wagon came to an abrupt halt causing him to lurch forwards while his tail flapped about in annoyance at the interruption of ‘Sotek and Aela’ on the plains. The Argonian looked about haphazardly as reality swiped his mate away from his embrace to place him back on the wagon in the middle of an Imperial army.

    “What? Where are we?”

     

    “You fell asleep”. Rikke stated. Well you did but your blasted tail didn’t it was flapping about like a snake on a hot plate; and you were breathing heavily. Nightmare? I would have woken you but I didn’t know what you or ‘he’ would do if I did”.

     

    Sotek sullenly shook his head as the last traces of Aela’s passion left him feeling hot and frustrated. He thought, for a moment at least, to say screw it and head back to Whiterun to his mate but the sense of duty held him in check.

     

    Just as dawn was breaking they reached the top of the mountain trail. There Rikke stopped the column and let everyone rest for an hour before they headed down the other side. In the distance they could see Ivarstead. During the brief respite she informed Sotek of the route ahead.

    “Once we pass Ivarstead the camp isn’t far. It’s about an hour’s ride east of Ivarstead, we’ll be there before noon”.

     

    Sotek looked at Ivarstead, he eyed up two buildings, one being the inn then the other was the old mill. Desperate pleas from his loins began stabbing at Sotek’s nerves. His senses too turned against him, making him believe he could smell the scent of the She-wolf on the breeze.

    “When we get to Ivarstead I need ten minutes”. He bluntly stated. He still wasn’t sure on what to do but he had to do something. He just didn’t know what.

     

    Rikke looked at him hard. She could see the wanton need in him. She didn’t spend years surrounded by troops without knowing what drove them.

    “You promise not to try to send any message to Aela?”

     

    “Legate Rikke…” Sotek whispered in a dry cold voice. “I give you my word no such message will be sent. I need to see someone at the mill. Temba? You know of Temba do you not?” he added a hiss on the end just for his own sanity and a mark of defiance.

     

    As Sotek rested, Rikke sought out two of her trusted men. She discretely pulled them aside and briefed them on a ‘special mission’.

    “When we get to Ivarstead keep a watchful eye on Sotek”.

     

    “Don’t you trust him?” One of the men asked as he watched the slumbering Argonian.

     

    Rikke looked over to where he sat and nodded.

    “Yes, but he’s missing someone. He might try to send a message to her. Many a man and woman for that matter defied kings and queens for love. It there was one thing I could distill from this rabble of a force it would be love. Any one of you tell me where on the Imperial’s uniform is there a pocket for such things. Listen and listen well; we can’t afford for anything to get intercepted so if he does try to send a message don’t go heavy handed. All you need to do is return him and the letter to me”.

     

    “Understood, we’ll keep an eye on him”. The other man stated. With a wave of her hand Rikke dismissed them, sending them off to mingle with the other troops.

     

    An hour or so later they once again made their way down the mountain trail. This in itself posed certain other difficulties, due to the sloping trail. This time it wasn’t a case of the horses struggling to pull the carts up, it was Soldiers with ropes trying to prevent the carts from running down the mountain and careering off the edge, taking the horses with them. By mid morning, and a lot of effort, they had managed to get to the bottom without any losses. From there it was a simple matter of heading along the road; Ivarstead was now just a few minutes away.

     

     

Comments

4 Comments   |   The Wolf Of Atmora and 4 others like this.
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  April 29
    Two things to come back at you with Harrow.
    1st thing... damn it your right for howling out loud. for some reason I was thinking she was Imperial. I guess that's my anti Nord Ulfric side coming out there.
    2nd thing... Rikke's lack of experie...  more
    • Harrow
      Harrow
      Sotek
      Sotek
      Sotek
      Two things to come back at you with Harrow.
      1st thing... damn it your right for howling out loud. for some reason I was thinking she was Imperial. I guess that's my anti Nord Ulfric side coming out there.
      2nd thing... Rikke's lack of experience.
      ...  more
        ·  April 29
      Well, for one, Rikke's a veteran of the Great War, which - assuming that she stayed on active duty - means that she's been a soldier for more than two decades. Of course it has to be said that, again, if it was a personal decision to make Rikke younger, l...  more
      • Sotek
        Sotek
        Harrow
        Harrow
        Harrow
        Well, for one, Rikke's a veteran of the Great War, which - assuming that she stayed on active duty - means that she's been a soldier for more than two decades. Of course it has to be said that, again, if it was a personal decision to make Rikke younger, l...  more
          ·  April 30
        It's a bit of both to be honest. There are moments when her experience shows through, (at least I hope it will) while there are other moments when her experience is severely lacking. Dealing with werewolves for instance. Yes they would have hunted them do...  more
  • Harrow
    Harrow   ·  April 29
    I'm a little thrown off by how inexperienced Rikke is coming off as, being a Chief Lieutanant. Also, isn't she a Nord in the original game? Mind you, I have no issues if it was a personal decision making her an Imperial.