-They are here –
From atop the walls of the city we could see a mass of iron monsters. The commanders aligned their troops in formations similar to the ones found in the Legion. Their infantry formed a shield wall in the front of the formation, protection the archer’s cohort right behind it. To our surprise the Stormcloaks outnumbered us, and had siege equipment.
The day looked ugly, storm clouds were looming above, blocking the sun from my view. I don’t like this; I don’t feel comfortable with it. If it starts raining then my arrows won’t hit their mark with the usual precision, and getting my strings wet is a bad idea.
They arrived two days after Ricard and Ganlon came. One day before that Ralthos had arrived with the imperial reinforcements, he came with Julitta, which in turn brought her clan’s domestic troops and Penitus Oculatus soldiers. We were outnumbered, but we had the high ground, even though they had siege equipment, we had ballistae to deal with those, so they needed to keep a safe distance from our own weapons until they disabled them.
Their first attacks were very mild, when we spotted their army the civilians moved into the keep, there were no casualties as the Stormcloak infantry proceeded to occupy the farms and houses around the city. They found respite from our arrows there, and used those houses to fire their own volley against our archers.
The damage done by the dragon was quite noticeable, but since we were warned of the attack beforehand we were able to quickly repair most of the damage done. And even if we were still repairing when the invading forces arrived we took advantage of the city’s design to pull back the drawbridge and finish the job.
At first Julia was apprehensive to include us in the battle, but seeing as it would be more difficult for any Thalmor spies to recognize me, just as long as I kept a low profile, I partook. Even though I’m not the only Argonian serving in the Legion, it is not as common, so I kept my head down.
Before going into battle I meticulously organize my equipment. Bowstrings may break during use; I string my moonstone longbow with the older one first, and keep a pouch with a few extras, older ones first and newer ones back. The older strings are softer; they take less effort to pull back fully, but don’t pack as much of a punch as the newer ones. I like to use the newer strings when the battle starts to drag on, even if they get harder to pull, it provides the kick the older strings don’t have. This way I maintain my performance throughout the fight.
It seemed like they were trying to drag this out for the first days, but they were only preparing for a mad advance. Whiterun has an interesting design. There is a slopped curve that leads into a drawbridge that in turn leads to the main gate. To attack the city directly the Cloaks would have to pass through the barricade we erected, continue through a relatively narrow corridor while our archers pelted them, and then find a way to down the bridge to reach the main gate.
Archery is a lonely profession; I have noticed that with the passing of the years. The fact that I was born into a family that followed a certain tradition with the weapon did not help. I hate the bow, hate it. Never felt satisfaction in hitting a small target fifty yards over, yet I’ve also never felt bigger satisfaction in doing so. An archer talks to himself, or at least I do. Other soldiers pray, remind themselves of tactics, and tell their companions in the shield wall that everything is going to be all right. In the heat of battle an archer will talk to himself, and even worse, answer…
I’ve been told I look like a crazy fool while I exert my profession, marching, cursing, making silent speeches and even discussing with my “alter ego”. Why do I do that? Because I feel lonely. Simple really, but it’s easy enough to repress my feelings and kill the enemy, it’s what I was bread to do, and it’s what I’m going to do now.
The ballistae were not at a good position; Whiterun is an old city, a city from a time where the favored siege weapon of a Nord was his voice. When the Imperials came with their siege equipment in the old days the Nords were not able to defend against their superior technology, backed up by their highly disciplined troops. When Julitta came with the equipment for the city’s defense we had to setup scaffolding to hold the weapons above the walls, I got a bit nervous with those, every time the ballistae fired I could hear the wooden scaffolding creak.
We had two of these defending the front gate; the Clocks simply could not approach from the front. Our archers kept the light infantry from getting two close, and any shield wall or armored ram they formed could be easily dealt with using the siege equipment. And an experienced crew is able to fire a bolt every two minutes; it gave them no time to fire back. This was, until one of the scaffolding broke.
The crew firing the weapon did not notice when the fragile structure began to lose its balance, and it was quite a scare when it fell apart. I cursed our luck; this rendered one of our ballistae useless. Ulfric seemed to take a gamble at that point. We could see on the horizon that the Stormcloaks were approaching with a couple of catapults, he seemed to be ready to sacrifice one of those expensive weapons in order to destroy the remaining ballistae. This was risky; if the soldiers managed to push the catapults within range and fire before our crew fired bolts at both weapons we would lose our defenses at the front.
The Cloaks managed to put both weapons within reach, and arm them. I reached for my pack and retrieved my looking glass. After stretching it to full length I could see the Stormcloak light infantry working as fast as they could to set up the projectiles. I calculated the trajectory of the bolt and immediately ordered the crew to fire. Right on target! The catapult in the left was now destroyed and the crew of the right started to flee, good, their projectile was almost ready.
Wait, what is that? The regular light infantry was fleeing but I could see more soldiers approaching through the looking glass. They wore black armor, hoods and masks. These are no regulars.
This new crew was quicker and more efficient then the previous one, they managed to load the catapult before we could even get the second bolt up the scaffolding. It was hopeless, once I realized it was too late I shouted to the crew to abandon their posts and jump. Just as the last one leapt of the platform a huge rock came crashing down, destroying our last ranged defense for the city’s gates.
It all happened so fast after that. The Cloak infantry quickly hid under an armored ram and started approaching, with a well formed shield wall behind it. I hate these moments. Did I mention before that I hate archery, well here is one thing I hate more, being unable to hit my target. This ram was of fine quality; they used prime oak for the wheels and spruce for the outer layer. The top was covered in cow hides, doused in water to keep it from burning, rendering flame arrows and minor flame spells useless, not that any mage dared to venture atop the wall, they would be shot down before they got a chance to cast.
I wiggled my tail in anxiety. I always do that. Of course I can’t see my own face but I know I’m smiling. Not that any of the other archers can tell the difference between my smile and a look of fury, argonians usually do run into this problem. I smile a lot, even in times like these, I can’t control it, it just happens.
Still I pulled back the bowstrings, and still the infuriating, yet addicting muffled sound of the strings fills my ears. Missed. Missed again. I suppose I shouldn’t beat myself too much for this, I don’t know any other archer who is still able to hit them through the miniscule flaws in their shield wall. Well, maybe Ralthos, but I can still beat him in draw speed and accuracy, even though he uses a weightless bound bow. I bet those strings aren’t as hard on your fingers, if they require effort at all…
It seems like it’s useless! The Imperial soldiers love to badmouth the Cloaks, but you have to admire them. Most of them were Imperial legionnaires once, and it shows in their form. The moment I manage to hit a soldier another one steps up and takes his place, instantly filling the hole in the formation.
They now ran into a bit of trouble, to reach the gate of the city the formation would have to pass through a bottleneck. The first arch leading into the city was blocked with a wooden barricade, and the towers around it were stationed with the Jarl’s men. A makeshift rope bridge, sturdy enough to allow a soldier to pass at a time, yet flimsy enough to cut in a hurry, if the enemy managed to take the pass way, connected the arch to the inner wall. If the Cloaks passed through the barricade under the fire of our arrows they would have to confront a squad of Julitta’s Oculatus troops, organized in a shield wall, and with their flanks protected by the walls of the city.
There are two guard towers above the arch, and another one behind the soldiers. The two above the arch were armed with cauldrons of hot oil, ready to pour down in any infantry that reached that point. What we weren’t expecting was that armored ram, the hot oil would have no effect against the doused hides.
The Cloaks positioned the ram halfway into the arch, providing them with a shield from the hot oil and our arrows. The Cloak infantry advanced beyond the safety of their shields and used their axes to attempt to break our barricade. Julitta stepped up; she had spent the last hour or so organizing the defense of the flanks of the city. Because of her rapid thinking and efficient organization we managed to repeal the siege towers surrounding the walls.
Now that those were taken care of she diverted her attention to the main gates. She was wearing a set of custom armor, mixed with plated pieces on the shoulders, arms and legs, along with leather bearing the colors of the Penitus Oculatus. She was armed with her family’s spear and a light Imperial shield, strapped to her back. The weapon looked quite heavy, its shaft was made from Orichalcum and the blade, a broad double-edged piece of sturdy dwarven metal. Its other end was a heavy Ebony pommel, square in it’s design. The thing looked strange, it looked like dwarven craftsmanship, mixed with Orc smelted metal. Another quirk about it was a small detail near the blade; it looked like a stone mouth, like a head was pierced on it then broken off.
That would be true if you believe the legends concerning the origin of the Greyhound family, it is said that the patriarch of the clan skewered the head out of a gigantic stone golem, and severed it, making the spear rather useless since it had a head on the tip to weight it down. As the legend goes the patriarch then proceeded to defeat a whole army single-handed in order to break the monster’s head and make the weapon usable again. The name “Greyhound” came from there, whether it was the name of the monster or the patriarch is now lost to time.
I saw it all through the cover of our position. She stood behind the formation barking an order, her voice heard above the chaos. She told her men to ready their spears. Once they were prepared the soldiers ahead of them fell back and gave room for the other to fire a volley of javelins, thinning out the soldiers in the archway.
The Cloak response was immediate; they instantly backed of and formed a wall of shields to protect themselves. I saw more soldiers pulling the bodies of their fallen comrades, clearing up the space. Julitta’s men prepared to fire another volley, but when she shouted at them to raise their shields it was already too late. I saw the light glistening against the steel of the Stormcloak arrows. The archers hid behind the shields bearing the colors of the storm.
The front line was killed instantly. At this range the armor was useless. The arrows went straight through the Oculatus light chainmail. The line directly behind advanced and put their shields up just in time to deal with the second volley. The third line dragged away the dead and wounded and the fourth line advanced to cover the third’s position.
The Oculatus was in position to ready their javelins again, but the Cloaks had already managed to break through the wooden barricade and were advancing their shield wall against ours.
I can’t say I know how those men and women feel. I’ve never been in a shield wall myself, not that I wouldn’t prefer that to the bow, at least those people must not feel as lonely as I do, with their companions shoulder to shoulder.
The shields clashed and once that happened it became less of a battle and more of a pushing match. What seemed like a Cloak officer was at the front, screaming his lungs into the ear of the Imperial right in front of him, the young legionnaire seemed scared, and was almost ready to abandon his position.
Seeing how a break in the formation would be lethal I quickly armed another arrow and jumped up the wall to get a better view of the officer; he was an enormous man, used a bear hide cloak and carried a massive iron battle-axe on his back. I had only a split second to fire before the Nord archers noticed me and fired their own arrows. I used the time I had wisely, and quickly fired, aiming for his face. Before I dropped down back to cover I noticed that the officer noticed my presence before I shot, and raised his shield just in time. Dammit, I hate missing…
I started to smell something; it smelled like, wet dog… Oh shit! The enemy wall broke open and forth came a man holding a bunch of bloodhounds by the leash! Their shaggy fur gave them a less fierce aspect than they had credit for. The man was struggling to keep them, and looked relieved when he finally let go.
Hounds are a cruel strategy, one that the Nords loved to employ. Those dogs were trained specifically to break shield walls. They put themselves under the legion’s defenses and bit their legs and testicles, wounding the front lines and causing chaos.
Julitta seemed nervous with the current predicament, she screamed orders to kill the hounds immediately, but as soon as she stabbed the last one chaos had already been sown.
The Imperial shield wall was broken, and the Cloaks advanced in a mad charge. Now the battle between walls was done, and each soldier fought for his own life in a mixture of small skirmishes and bloody massacres. The ground was littered with corpses, the air, heavy with the smell of blood and the waste released from the bowels of the recent dead.
They kept advancing, and Julitta sheathed her spear, she needed both hands for what she was about to do. Now that most of her soldiers were either dead or dying she could not afford to care anymore, she intended to finish this in a single blow. She moved her feet into a balanced stance, both her hands occupied releasing and weaving magicka into complex patterns and then magnifying them with her own will.
When the Stormcloak officer noticed what she was doing he ran up to a hole in the wall and hid, protecting the rest of his body with an imperial shield he picked in the last minute. Julitta’s essence began to grow, fire started to appear around her skin, incinerating the corpses nearby. I shouted to the other soldiers to duck, immediately doing so myself.
The thundering sound scared me, and once I stood again the sight of destruction made me nervous. Everything around her had turned to ash, charred corpses, shrunk and stuck into fetal positions. A master spell, of any school of magic, is something to behold, the firestorm spell is known to be the most forceful of the destruction spells. It was made to cause the most damage possible in the least time, without any concern to anything around you.
Julitta learned how to control magic under Lucius’s apprenticeship; she has obviously learned to control destruction better than him, at least at a higher magnitude. Although he always tells his apprentices, young mages always think they will be the best if they learn the master spells of the school, but a creative mind always triumphs over direct force. Julitta never gave much of a shit though; she always believed that strength would triumph above all, and the results of this thinking could be seen right ahead of me.
From the ashes I heard some disgruntled groans and a few howls of pain coming from many half dead soldiers, some of them our own I’m sure. From the crevice in the wall I saw the officer burst out and charge the Oculatus commander. She wasn’t expecting anyone to survive her magic, so it was quite a shock when a massive iron battle-axe was drawn and ready to cut her in half.
She dodged the first overhead strike, and kept dodging the flurry that came afterwards. Her spear was at her back, and the Nord did not allow her to draw it or weave a spell. In a move of masterful dexterity, accompanied by an error of the Nord’s part, he swept his axe at her feet, and as a response she jumped up and hit him square on his chest with both her feet.
He fell to the ground, giving her time to draw her massive spear. She knew she would only have time to either draw or fire a spell, and the latter could mean her death if she missed.
The Greyhound spear is a massively heavy weapon, and it was quite a surprise when he managed to successfully block her overhead strike, quickly countering by hitting her with the axe handle, right in the gut. She clenched her teeth and charged him, holding her spear by the end of it and spinning around like a crazy woman. She spun three times, the first two hits blocked by him and the last hitting him in the jaw.
He looked like he was knocked out cold, but soon got up again and wiped the blood from his chin. He tried to scream at her, but soon realized that would be too godamm painful, his maxillary was broken.
-I’m a kind person Nord, if you chose to do so I will accept your unconditional surrender – Said Julitta, with a victorious grin, her hair covered in sweat, sticking to her face – Imperial prisons aren’t such a bad place, if you cooperate then there will be no need for torture – I could see her hand behind her back, readying a fireball
The Nord did not fall for it though. He grabbed his axe by the end of its handle and threw it at her with all his might. She was caught by surprise, and released her fireball into the air, in no particular direction. She would have died, but I managed to anticipate his movement, and shot his axe with one of my arrows before it hit her. There was a small moment of respite, but soon after that another hoard of Cloaks charged in to help their commander.
Julitta cursed her luck, and readied another spell on her hands. She ran up to the wall and released a wave of fire behind her, propelling her above the wall and into a flimsy fall into my arms.
-Dammit commander, you could at least tell me when you do that, almost cracked your head on the ground! – I said after throwing myself in the ground before her to stop her from breaking her neck.
-No worries Dee, as long as I know there is one of Lucius’s elite watching my back I won’t worry – She said, opening a large grin.
I helped her get back on her feet and as soon as she did we saw the Stormcloak shield wall inching ever closer. They were approaching the drawbridge now, and started firing at us with their short bows. They kept the pressure, but I soon realized they were on a tight spot. The fire coming from their short bows was starting to fade as their arrows ran out, and they had no real way of downing the drawbridge.
Of course I say that, and I’m immediately proven wrong. The black soldiers we saw before, there was a group of four. Seeing them from this distance I managed to take a good look at them, they wore a leather overcoat I imagine it hid a layer of light chainmail, with ebony plates protecting their legs, and heavy gauntlets for their hands. They wore black hoods and metallic masks as well, hiding their identities from us. For weapons they were armed only with a long ebony thrusting sword, an estoc, and kept the other hand free, for spells I imagine.
They took point ahead of the recently formed Cloak shield wall. I instantly began to pull back my bowstring to shoot at them, but Julitta pulled me down before an ice storm spell fired by one of them hit me. I peeked slightly above my cover and saw what was going on.
I saw one of them kneel down one leg and turn to the others while another of them kept a spell ready for the case I got brave. The other two ran up the first one and one at a time he boosted them up, launching them an impossible distance into the air, resulting in both of them grabbing the end of the drawbridge. I began to panic, all of the archers tried to shoot them down, but every time they popped out of cover they were blasted away by the lighting of the two black soldiers who remained on the ground.
The two closest to us had already climbed up and jumped next to the lever for the drawbridge, unfortunately for him, he was lined up perfectly for my arrow. He seemed to notice me though, and right before I fired he dodged to the side, the arrow hitting his arm instead of a vital spot. I saw no blood, sure it was only a spilt second, but I only saw sparks, seems his armor deflected my projectile.
Those two realized that they would have to deal with us before pulling down the bridge. One took point, unsheathing his long, slender, black thrusting-sword. He was fast, all of his thrusts were rapid and precise, and if I hadn’t been trained for this I would have gotten skewered multiple times already.
Julitta tapped me in the back, trailing downwards. I knew what she wanted and I instantly ducked. She jumped over me and spun her spear around in a flurry of slashes, putting pressure upon the enemy and making him quickly fall back. She kept this up, while I traded fire with the other soldier, but in the midst of arrow and lighting, he managed to hit my shoulder, and used the opportunity to pull down the drawbridge.
It seemed like all hell would break lose at that point, of course we were prepared for this eventuality, Ricard and a platoon other Imperial knights were at formation, ready to stop the charge of the Cloaks.
Damm this hurts, I can’t move my arm. With my other hand I used my claws to rip out the tattered leather covering the wound. It was ugly, I’m sure I wouldn’t lose my arm, but I need to treat this. I tried to get up, couldn’t. The whole world started to spin, my eyelids became heavy, and I quickly drifted into blessed numbness…
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