U.O.T.W. Chapter 190 Godspeed

• Posted by Sotek January 24, 2017 - Filed in TSC: CB Story - #Sotek  #U.O.T.W.  - 2,271 views

   

   

   

  Aela set a fast pace as her horse galloped southwards which threw Sotek into confusion. He pulled out his map and waved it at Aela like a flag.

   

  “Solitude is to the west, isn’t it? Why are we travelling south?”

   

  She took the map to be a rag; a red rag to a bull. She snatched it out of his hand and dismounted her horse. Using a piece of charcoal which was wrapped up in a small patch of linen, Aela added one feature to Sotek’s map which she considered to be of importance.

   

  “Solitude has a harbor knucklehead! We’re on the wrong side of it. How do we cross it? Swim?”

   

   

   

  Sotek glanced vacantly towards the west and flatly replied.

   

  “That works for me!”

   

   

   

  The Huntress climbed back up on her horse then shoved the map into the Argonian’s chest. She shook her head but never spoke; she didn’t need to. The look on her face told both him and the Whelp that Aela regarded Sotek as an idiot.

   

   

   

  Ignoring his protests, Aela proceeded along the pathway towards Morthal. When they neared the edge of the town she slowed her horse down to a trot and followed the main route through the town center. She frowned and grumbled when she heard the Whelp whine like a puppy as they rode past Moorside inn. Sotek came alongside the Whelp and egged on her horse, giving her no choice but to carry on.

   

   

   

  The three Companions were only a few hours out of Morthal when a large Imperial fort loomed in the distance. Sotek expected to see plenty of life there but it seemed that only a few Imperial soldiers manned it. Two scouts armed with bows watched the path from the wall while through the gatehouse Sotek could see one other soldier carrying a bale of hay on his back.

   

   

   

  Aela referred to it as Fort Snowhawk. The way she described it and its location suggested to Sotek that it was in fact little more than a staging ground for Imperial forces in the area. A place where the scattered camps could go to for supplies and carry news back to the general.

   

   

   

  Throughout the rest of the day they worked their way past mountainous gorges and pine forests; crossed stone bridges and fjords as they made their way to Solitude. One particular location they came across, which caught the Whelp’s eye was a small town called Dragon Bridge which spanned the salmon rich river.

   

   

   

  The town got its name from the giant stone carved ‘dragon head’ which was supported fifteen feet above the center of the bridge. While the Whelp gazed at it in awe, Sotek was more content to peer down the vast drop into the river itself. Aela rode her horse past the Whelp to join him and gave him some background on the area.

   

  “Karth River; that’s the name of it. It flows northwards from the Jerall Mountains, passing to the east of Markarth, before flowing through Dragon Bridge. We’ll be following it to Solitude.

   

   

   

  Sotek raised his boney eyebrows and frowned at the same time, giving him a twisted ‘sad’ yet ‘happy’ expression when he heard the mentioning of a certain city.

   

  “Markarth? I’ve yet to go there. The closest I got was the stables”.

   

   

   

  Aela picked up on it straightaway although even then she never realized the complications it held for them. She never knew it but the event Sotek had just so insignificantly mentioned would have an impact on their relationship.

   

   

   

  Blissfully unaware of the fickle threads of fate, they led their horses onwards, passing through Dragon Bridge with their thoughts firmly fixed on Whiterun’s tenuous future.

   

   

   

  The road to Skyrim’s capital, if it could be called a road, took them through terrain bordering forests and mountains. Sotek’s eye kept wandering to the river, causing him to collide with Aela. She growled at him and pointed ahead, ordering him to take the lead.

   

   

   

  He became more focused once the stony tracked pathway started leading up the side of the mountain range but his knowledge of the area was limited. The pathway split into two routes, both going roughly in the same direction although one headed back down towards Karth River while the other pathway snaked its way higher up the mountain.

   

   

   

  Knowing the castle was on a large cliff formation, Sotek headed along the high road only to be promptly called back by Aela and the Whelp. He turned his horse around and watched as they rode along the other path, leaving him behind. He moved to the edge of the track and gasped when he saw the harbor below him.         

   

   

   

  From where he was, he could see the docks. There was a trade ship in port with its sails full from the push of the wind. Large flocks of birds circled above the harbor, looking out for the odd fish discarded by the small fishing vessels. While even from where he was, the air smelt salty as it blew up from the sea.

   

   

   

  Leaving the harbor alone, they headed to the stables so the horses could be taken care of. From there they made their way towards the first of a series of gateways. Aela pointed to the Solitude carriage and giggled along with the Whelp while Sotek trudged on behind them.

   

  “Oh look! They have horses... Oh wow, and a carriage”.

   

   

   

  Sotek sped up and swiped the heel of Aela’s foot away from under her. She tripped forwards and grabbed hold of the whelp to stop herself from falling over.

   

   

   

  Without giving her a chance to retaliate, the Whelp snapped at them both; stopping the playfight in its tracks.

   

  “No! Don’t you dare start again. We haven’t got time for your antics”.

   

   

   

  Sotek laughed as he walked alongside them.

   

  “We just got told off by a Whelp”.

   

   

   

  Aela smiled at her, and settled her ‘debt of honor’ by punching Sotek in the arm.

   

  “Well she has a point I suppose”.

   

   

   

  Once they passed by another guard tower they walked under the final archway. Two guards pushed open the city gates, allowing them access to Solitude.

   

   

   

  Immediately upon entering the capital, Sotek could see some resemblances to Whiterun while at the same time the differences also stood out. Even though Whiterun was also surrounded by a wall, Whiterun’s defenses were a lot smaller, making the city feel far more open. He felt like he was in a prison rather than somewhere safe. A part of him stared at the towers and large heavy stone walls; he couldn’t help but feel he was missing the plains. He stopped without realizing it and looked at Aela. He stood there staring at her all the while he kept thinking about what she had said. She really wanted them to be free and hunt at will with no reprimands of fear or death.

   

   

   

  This thought was engraved in his mind as he saw the stone platform to his right of the city gate where an executioner’s block sat. It seemed that any severe punishment was capital in Solitude. He gulped as he imagined Aela’s head on the block should their secret be discovered.

   

   

   

  Aela noticed her mate’s tail as it flapped about. She didn’t know exactly what it meant but that along with the intensity of his stare told her that something was amiss.

   

  “Hey, are you ok?”

   

   

   

  Sotek suddenly snapped back to reality although he seemed confused by his surroundings. He looked around at the various shops and buildings as if he was trying to remember where he was.

   

  “Huh? Sorry what?”

   

   

   

  Aela and the Whelp exchanged worried glances then Aela tried to sharpen Sotek’s senses by tapping the side of his tail.

   

  “Hey! Wake up. We’ve got problems and I need you to be focused. You’re the sharp end of the spear damn it”.

   

   

   

  Sotek swung his head around to face her and questioningly gazed into her eyes.

   

  “Spear? What spear?”

   

   

   

  The Huntresses response was simple. She lightly slapped him on the cheek twice before pushing him forwards.

   

  “We’re walking into a viper’s den. You need your wits about you”.

   

   

   

  He seemed a bit startled by the slap Aela gave him but he quickly shook it off.

   

  “Yes, yes I’m fine. The general! Hmm… just follow my lead”. He then confidently strolled along the main street, noting a few of the shops as he went passed them. One shop in particular caught his attention, the alchemist’s shop, ‘Angeline’s Aromatic’s’. Arcadia’s Cauldron had a fine selection of ingredients and she always made Sotek feel welcome but he was constantly on the lookout for the opportunity to discover something else, some new plant or component for his alchemy; at least something new to him.

   

   

   

  The inn dominated the street, almost towering above the various shops nearby. Even the two shops which formed a single building on the opposite side of the street with their palisade and arches seemed humbled by ‘The Winking Skeever Inn’. The Whelp was more interested in first shop was called the ‘Radiant Raiment’s’. It had a fancy embroidery sign showing it to be the local garment shop while the general store that went by the name of ‘Bits and Pieces’ had a sign which was far more basic in design.

   

   

   

  The Huntress tutted at them both and whistled loudly, calling them back to the present situation they were in; reminding them of the urgency.

   

  “Not today! We’ll come here again and have a proper look around when there’s no war beating at Whiterun’s gates”.

   

   

   

  With hastily trod footsteps they headed towards a large archway where Sotek happened to notice the market which was made up of a few stalls just like Whiterun. Even here the stalls were situated around a central well. The smell of fresh fish and apples formed an aroma causing his stomach to rumble with hunger.

   

   

   

  As he walked under the archway, Aela called him back and pointed to the ramp on his left. At the top of it was a wide walkway with a blacksmith’s forge situated at one end.

   

  “Hey, Sotek Follow-My-Lead? You’re going the wrong way. Up here moron!”

   

   

   

  He slowly wiped his brow with the palm of his hand in a slow painful manner, knowing the Huntress and the Whelp were both giggling at him. He glanced under the arch and shrugged at the multitude of houses which seemed to stretch out for half a mile.

   

  “Well I don’t know do I?” He stated as he fell in behind Aela.

   

   

   

  At the top of the ramp Aela gasped and unconsciously took three steps towards a shop. It had various barrels alongside piles of sacks and a large wooden crate stored outside it which gave Sotek little clue as to what it sold. Aela’s eagerness to visit it became clear to him once he read the sign out loud.

   

  “The Fletcher! Aela, not now remember? We’ll come back when Whiterun’s gates aren’t beating off an invasion”.

   

   

   

  Aela sulked as she answered Sotek back.

   

  “I can’t stop Ulfric if I have no arrows!”

   

   

   

  The Argonian replied by dragging her off by the collar while she protested at being ‘beast handled’.

   

  “Get off you filthy reptile!”

   

   

   

  Through a smaller archway which formed part of the barracks, they could see some soldiers training. Sotek asked one of the officers who was commanding the garrison about the general’s whereabouts. The commander seemed to expect him and without any delay he ordered a foot soldier to escort them to the general’s quarters. From there the soldier pointed them to a large wooden doorway. Sotek opened the handle then the three of them entered inside.

   

   

   

  The three Companions stopped to listen to the conversation they seemed to walk in upon. It just so happened that the general was discussing Whiterun’s fate and from what they overheard, it didn’t sound favorable.

   

  “Legate Rikke, if the Jarl won’t accept help then we can’t stop Ufric from taking Whiterun. Let him take it! We’ll retake it from him afterwards and trap the rebels inside its walls”.

   

   

   

  Legate Rikke, the officer he was talking to wasn’t happy or convinced. She countered the argument, fearing the loss of the men and women under her command.

   

  “It will take more manpower to remove him. It’s better if he don’t take it at all”.

   

   

   

  Sotek walked over to them both and interrupted them. He hoped the information he carried would sway matters to Whiterun’s protection rather than its destruction. Whiterun’s walls wouldn’t survive two sieges. He couldn’t bear the thought of one.

   

   

   

  “General Tullius, The Jarl from Dawnstar is sending another twenty men even as we speak to Whiterun”.

   

   

   

  Tullius stopped the conversation and slowly tiled his head towards the passageway where Sotek was leading the other Companions out from. The Imperial looked him up and down, studying him as if he was sizing the Argonian up.

   

  “How do you know of this? Who in oblivion are you?”

   

   

   

  Aela stepped forwards and introduced herself. She knew her reputation and that of the Companions was widespread across Skyrim and she hoped her name would put the general at ease although her diplomacy skills were somewhat lacking.

   

  “Allow me to introduce us… I’m Aela the Huntress from Jorrvaskr; a Companion. Let me introdu… This is a waste of bloody time. General Tulli-whatever the hell they call you. I’m Aela, that one is a Whelp and this reptile is Sotek. You asked him to come here damn it now listen to what he has to say!”

   

   

   

  The general met Aela’s ‘introduction’ with a grizzled face which disappeared at the mere mention of Sotek being sent for.

   

  “You’re the Dragonborn? An Argonian is the legendary Nord hero? Haha! Well, tell me this ‘Dragonborn’; how do you know Jarl Skald is sending another twenty men to join in with the attack at Whiterun?”

   

   

   

  Sotek lent on the table, resting both palms of his hands upon it and studied the map. He knew where fort Dunstad was; Aela made a point of marking it on his scrap of leather. He just wished he had a map like the general had. Every location seemed to be marked on it from basic mines to forts and bandit hovels, routes between the cities, forest paths and mountain trails.

   

  “Because I told him to; that’s why. They left Fort Dunstad only a few hours ago I’m guessing. The fort’s only got a skeleton crew garrisoning it I suspect. I can’t be sure mind but if it is then it will be an easy target. As long as Whiterun is secure…”

   

   

   

  Legate Rikke looked at their map and pointed straight at the fort. She excitedly garbled out a plan to the general who seemed to listen to every word she spoke with interest.

   

  “General, they must be heading along this road. General Tullius sir; if we send messengers to these two camps we could cut off the twenty reservists within half a day! This is perfect, we’ve extra men we can pull in from these three camps and muster an attack upon Fort Dunstad within twenty four hours”.

   

   

   

  The general nodded without even looking at the map. It was as though each location was etched in his head.

   

  “Yes, this is a good omen. Very well send the messages, trap them and wipe them out. Now Whiterun; Dawnstar is sending thirty men ahead of the twenty strong force?”

   

   

   

  Sotek interrupted again and shook his head adamantly.

   

  “No general; he has sent fifty men; fully equipped”.

   

   

   

  Legate Rikke’s mouth fell wide open while her eyes flickered between the Dragonborn and the map. Sotek envisioned the officer watching tiny Stormcloaks make their way along drawn lines and crossing blue strips of ink which resembled rivers as they made their way across and the parchment on their way to invade a thick black ‘defences’ which resembled the outline of Whiterun. She spoke almost accusingly at Sotek; demanding an explanation.

   

  “Fifty? And how do you know this?”

   

   

   

  Sotek shrugged off Rikke’s attitude without a second thought. He had much bigger fish to fry than an Imperial officer.

   

  “Because we convinced him we were ambassadors from Ulfric; trust me general he has sent fifty soldiers”.

   

   

   

  The general huffed at Sotek’s reply, giving the impression that the Argonian wasn’t to be believed. He went so far as to call Sotek a liar although it was laced with tact; the intention was there all the same.

   

  “And he just so happened to convey this information, did he?”

   

   

   

  “Well…” Sotek said with a smile. “Not before we had a ‘wee’ bit of a brawl”.

   

   

   

  The general smirked back at him and nodded, finally accepting Sotek’s word.

   

  “A ‘wee’ bit of a brawl hmm? Drink and fists does do a fine job of loosening tongues… and teeth”.

   

   

   

  Legate Rikke came over to the general and once again desperately tried to push him into sending Jarl Balgruuf aid.

   

  “Whiterun can’t stand against that number! We have to step in”.

   

   

   

  General Tullius slammed his hand down on the table, shaking the tiny flags about like they were caught in a gale.

   

  “No! The Jarl refuses help”.

   

   

   

  Aela joined in the argument and sided with Legate Rikke.

   

  “You have to convince him of the attack”. Between them they tried to force the general’s hand.

   

   

   

  He however refused to budge and all their pleas fell upon deaf ears.

   

  “No; I have wasted enough time trying to”.

   

   

   

  She looked at Sotek in desperation. She let her temper get the better of her and she punched him angrily in the chest.

   

  “Do something, damn you!”

   

   

   

  “Oww!” Sotek staggered backwards a few steps as he wasn’t expecting such a blow although he shrugged it off without even thinking about it. Playing on the strength that he was the Dragonborn, he tried a different tactic to force the general to budge.

   

  “General Tullius, I am the Dragonborn; Jarl Balgruuf knows this. I have his ear as it were, so to speak. Let me talk with him; give me the chance to convince him of the attack. I don’t offer him the words of generals or scouts; I know the attack is coming. Once I speak to him, he will accept your help. Rikke… Legate Rikke is right; the amount of blood lost if the Stormcloaks take Whiterun is beyond the count. You can’t let Whiterun fall”.

   

   

   

  The general seemed to sway in his decision, almost teetering on the edge of agreement but he had been beaten back one too many times and now considered Whiterun’s defences to be nothing but a waste of time and effort.

   

  “The Jarl won’t accept my help. There’s nothing I can do”.

   

   

   

  Sotek looked at Aela, she practically pleaded with him to step in. He walked away from the table, quibbling with himself over one possible answer. Hating the very thought of one seemingly crazy idea, he laid all his cards on the table.

   

  “What if you send your men and by the time they arrive in Whiterun, Balgruuf wasn’t the Jarl anymore?”

   

   

   

  General Tullius looked up in genuine surprise. He balanced Sotek’s words in his mind, making note of any merit the Argonian said.

   

  “Bold words Argonian; Dragonborn or not! What do you mean exactly when you say Jarl Balgruuf not being Jarl Balgruuf? And speak quickly man for a city’s fate may well dwell on it”.

   

   

   

  Sotek scrunched up his face which gave everyone the impression that he was smiling. It was only the fact that his tail banged down that Aela knew he was far from happy. She just didn’t quite know what mood he was in.

   

   

   

  Not until he hissed.

   

  “Fine; hsss! You want me to lay it out yesss? If he won’t accept help then he will take over. He will overthrow him! Ssend your men general!”

   

   

   

  Legate Rikke looked at him with understandable confusion. She turned to Aela for answers to who the ‘he’ was.

   

   

   

  Aela pointed at Sotek and tried to explain his choice of words with her usual calmness and tact.

   

  “He’s a bit stressed ok! When he’s stressed he calls himself ‘he’. He calls himself ‘he’, Vilkas turns to drink and I lash out ok? And yes, I’m feeling stressed too so bloody start helping! Bitch!”

   

   

   

  General Tullius rapped his knuckles on the table, drawing the ‘disagreement’ to a close. He moved right up against Sotek, invading his ‘personal space’ and looked at him right in the eyes. As he laid out his demands, he tapped Sotek in the chest, making him fully aware that the general meant every word.

   

  “I won’t be there but I will send my troops and officers to command them. I suggest, ‘Dragonborn’ that it is you who don’t let Whiterun fall; you and all the Companions. Don’t think for one minute that Ulfric would let Jorrvaskr stand if he takes Whiterun. That madman will burn it to the ground”.

   

   

   

  The general coldly turned around, putting Sotek to his back and he stared long and hard at the table. Without looking up at anyone he spoke with long drawn out heavy words.

   

  “Legate Rikke; give him what he needs then gather your men. You leave for Whiterun within the hour”.

   

   

   

  She silently beckoned Aela, Sotek and the Whelp to follow her as she made her way along the long corridor to finally end up in the courtyard. She rapped out orders to three Centurions, ordering them to prepare their detachments for departure.

   

   

   

  With only a few shouts the whole courtyard became a hive of activity as Imperial troops gathered weapons, armor and supplies. A blacksmith began loading his wagon with leathers and coals, aided by two apprentices. Two cooks commandeered a separate wagon and began arranging for supplies of flour and vegetables while other auxiliaries helped load up large cooking pots and other utensils. Piles and piles of arrows along with swords, shields, bows and quivers were formed in front of a third wagon which would carry the extra weapons needed to defend Whiterun’s walls.

   

   

   

   Aela looked on with awe and dread. She felt the air of excitement as it buzzed yet her stomach felt heavy and hollow.

   

  “This is really happening! War!”

   

   

   

  “Yes. I’m afraid so”. Legate Rikke stated. “At least we have a chance to hold Whiterun now. The city won’t fight alone. Go! There are three courier horses at the stables. I’ve sent a message saying they are to be prepped and ready to depart. Sotek, do you really think you can convince Jarl Balgruuf to accept our help?”

   

   

   

  Sotek frowned as he looked at the soldiers running around like disturbed ants.

   

  “Do you really think you will get to Whiterun in time to stop Ulfric from laying waste to it?”

   

   

   

  Legate Rikke gulped loudly and shook her head in response. In a quiet, broken tone she solemnly replied.

   

  “I hate it when people answer my question with a question of their own”.