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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-202-02-14 07:29
Canal House, Bitchen, The Rift, Skyrim
We walk around a bit. Everything is peaceful in the city. We discover that the Argonian woman who has a shop down in the canal district has a wide assortment of exotic clothes and armors. How come I've missed it until now??
We go to the inn where Lydia joins us, alive and well, at least at the first glance. I can't help myself following her into the bath. It amuses her greatly. "What are you hoping to see, whipmarks?" she asks me. I don't know really. At any rate, I'm not seeing anything. But she confesses Maul did get his way this time in regard of something that did hurt a lot. I expected as much. As far as politics is concerned, Lydia has no doubt that Maul's loyalty is with the one who is stronger. He wouldn't hesitate to join our side as soon as we've killed Maven. (Of course she's never mentioned that topic around him.)
Jenassa and Jordis come to see what we're doing just as Lydia is getting dressed. We go to Elgrim and Hafjorg's alchemy shop – to say hello and to see if Ingun Black-Briar, an eager and talented disciple of Elgrim's, is possibly there.
She isn't, but it warms my heart to think that at least this establishment can be expected to be safe under the new jarlship, thanks to Maven's daughter.
It's half past 9 when we begin our trot in a slight fog under the cloudy sky towards Fort Greenwall that is halfway between Bitchen and Shor. I want to see if that youngster who loved Bronwen (I've forgotten his name) is still in the area. Then we'll spend the rest of the day going through all the settlements between here and Windhelm, hopefully reaching the latter by tonight.
We approach Fort Greenwall slowly and carefully. Getting close, we realize we shouldn't have bothered, because it's been taken over by the imps. Don't tell me the bandits who used to be here were on Ulfric's payroll!
At any rate, that youngster Mendrell is still there. Unfortunately he has no idea where to continue our search for his sweetheart Bronwen. Now I can truthfully say I've done everything humanly possible to locate her, and can put this matter out of my mind.
On our way to Shor, we run past Ahkari's caravan. They are traveling to Dånstar.
Everything in Shor is as usual, with the exception of a large number of imps patrolling everywhere. They have really wasted no time getting here at strength while we were sleeping. I had no idea they had so many troops in Falkreath. Either that, or they left it virtually undefended. I wonder how they'll react when they hear about the war in Hammerfell which is bordering on Falkreath.
Generally headed for Windhelm, we're now going to make a detour via Darkwater to our northwest.
I decide to go west over the hills (see the blue marker on the map) rather than proceed along the highway that goes north and then turns west. I don't think we've ever been to the area west of Shor and south-southeast of Darkwater.
The terrain is comfortably travelable and soon we even reach a halfway decent road. Approaching a little pond called Clearspring Tarn, we see two cute elks.
When we are past the pond, as are the elks, a couple of hunters come running from behind us, shooting arrows at them. The male elk runs off, but the female is confused. I try to scare her away from the hunters in the direction where we are headed, but she keeps wanting to return to the pond, possibly to find her mate, so we leave her to her fate and move on towards our own destination.
We reach a horrifyingly high cliff which we need to descend, or we could take the long and winding road instead.
After a little reflection, I realize I'm too impatient to use the boring road. I'll take my chances with the cliff and then wait and enjoy the sights. The girls can follow by the safe path.
Indeed, the descent is highly dangerous, but I manage.
Walking leisurely past those breathtakingly scenic waterfalls near Darkwater, waiting for my followers to catch up, I suddenly realize why Elenwen was satisfied with the peace treaty. Undoubtedly she knew about the Aldmeri attack on Hammerfell. That's why she was pleased to be able to report that Skyrim can't possibly pose a threat anytime soon.
In fact, I'm happy in hindsight I didn't make Elenwen leave the negotiations. Had she been sent away, she would have (eventually) been informed of the terms of the treaty, the dry facts. But now she witnessed personally what kind of hatred the participants were possessed by, how little readiness for cooperation and mutual understanding there was. She will report all that to her superiors. The rulers of the Aldmeri Dominion will be convinced that the Empire will have its hands full with the explosive situation in Skyrim. Convinced that the peace can't possibly last, the real peace and the unification of Skyrim which I'll bring about will strike them like a bolt from the blue.
You may ask how I can be sure that I'll be able to unify Skyrim when there's such hatred between the two hostile camps. Well, that is because all of them hate the Dominion more. The outrageous behavior of the Dominion is why the civil war started in the first place. The two sides don't really hate each other, they are in strong disagreement about the appropriate reaction to the thalmor terror in Skyrim. I will show them a way to be free of it, and I have information about new events that make that goal attainable. That said, at the end of the day it's still the people of Skyrim who will have to prove themselves strong enough to prevail against those crazy religious fanatics. All I can do is to give them a realistic chance. And the chance I'm going to give them will be better than they would have proceeding along their current path of self-destruction.
Skyrim will need a thorough military reform, though. My half-year of traveling all over Skyrim and beyond, fighting a great variety of adversaries, has proven beyond any doubt the superiority of archers over melee fighters. It is vital that we change the Nords' habit of having at best one archer per five swordsmen. While a certain number of swordsmen is necessary, the majority of our soldiers will have to be archers (equipped with proper strong bows, of course, instead of the crap they're currently using in Skyrim). Come to think of it, why not use archers on horseback? I've never seen one, but they might well turn out even more devastating than archers on foot. I'll have to discuss it all with Yrsarald. He'll know if it's realistic and if there are even enough horses in Skyrim. At any rate, screaming berserks flapping with heavy things made of metal is a thing of the past. The Nords will have to radically alter their thinking if they want their country to ever prosper. The same, I daresay, goes for their drinking habits. But I'll have to stop my ruminations for now. The girls have completed their long run and we've reached Darkwater.
This is still stork territory and the soldiers are very respectful, maybe even awestruck.
Dovahkiin means "Dragonborn" in the dragon language.
Come to think of it, it would make sense that the simple countryfolk are more happy with the peace than the top brass.
After a short stop, we leave for Vernim Wood. Running past the Darkwater open-air bath, we look enviously at the couple of villagers basking in the sun. We must do everything in our power to never allow the turning of this idyllic peaceful village into a heap of smoldering ruins.
Well, yes, it's not all that peaceful with bears and sabercats attacking every now and then. Guess, I'm in a poetic mood today.
We give the bandit castle a wide berth, wave hello to our big friend the giant Billy, and arrive in Vernim Wood a little before three in the afternoon. We have a good chance of reaching Narzulbur within business hours and we'll spend the night in Windhelm.
However, we end up being delayed in Vernim Wood because there are not just one but two bear attacks. A shorter delay occurs on our way to Kynesgrove when a wannabe highway robber is foolish enough to attack us. With great haste, we still reach Narzulbur in time to verify that none of the traders there has bought the Staff of Magnus I'm looking for. I no longer know where to search. The staff seems to be lost for good. I wonder if there's some magical way to find out where it is. I mean, a way that doesn't require involving those bureaucrat-mages from Imperial City again.
With the sun going down and the rain making snowy slopes extremely slippery, we return to Kynesgrove and proceed to Windhelm. The shops in the city have already closed, but I have one call to make before going to the palace. It's about that book Seline of Morpork is interested about. After some asking around, I find the vendor at the Gray Quarter inn. It's a Dark Elf woman Myra with an unusually dark skin, or maybe it's the light.
Now, she is the most incompetent swindler I've ever seen in my life. She lays it on so thick with her oily praise of my wisdom not to fail to grab the chance of my lifetime, that it would likely make a 5-year-old child suspicious.
More amused than annoyed, I ask her where she found the book and why has she come all the way from Morrowind to Skyrim, when Nords are not exactly famous for their love of reading. She says she couldn't find a buyer in Morrowind – everyone stupidly assumed she was some kind of a scam artist. I ask to see the book and burst out laughing – it has a ridiculous grammatical error on the very cover.
I inform Myra that she has the choice – either she gives me the book and gets on the first ship to Morrowind, or I take her to the palace and have her interrogated in the prison.
Myra remains true to her game. She acts highly indignant for being so baselessly accused. Then she grabs the book and runs quickly to the door. I hesitate a second too long and then there are some people coming in and by the time I get past them and onto the street, I can't see Myra anywhere. Sure enough, I could ask the streetwalker Llaala which way she ran, but it's hardly worth it.
Now, even if the book hadn't been so crudely falsified and even if Myra would have had even a shred of credibility, it's still obvious that if the book had been genuine, the book traders in this very city, not to mention those in Morrowind wouldn't have failed to buy it in order to sell it to someone for a higher price. The fact that Myra was peddling in an obscure inn a book knowledgeable traders didn't want is additional proof that it was fake.
But enough of this. It's almost 10 o'clock in the evening and I have to go and see Yrsarald in order to, as it were, prepare him emotionally to be eager to agree to anything I'm going to say the next time we meet.
There is feverish war planning in progress in Yrsarald's office. Gathered around the big map are officers, several of whom I've never seen before. One would think Windhelm is under siege.
Luckily for me, the meeting ends soon. Most officers leave and Yrsarald is also excused. Only Ulfric, Galmar and a man unknown to me remain.
Yrsarald and I make love in his bedroom upstairs. Nothing fancy this time, he just can't wait to stick it in. Looks like he hasn't had any for a long time. Or maybe it's my wishful thinking.
I get very passionate. Or maybe just passionate, without "very". When Yrsarald comes, I'm very close myself. If he would go on with his movements just a little longer, I would reach an orgasm too. No, he's pulling out. Even more disappointingly, he turns his back on me and falls asleep. No, no! I have a dispute over relationship issues to pull off. I try to shake Yrsarald up, but all he does is turn around, snap at me angrily and fall asleep again.
Come to think of it, I sensed already while we were walking up the stairs how tired he was. Not down there, though. He was hard almost before he closed the door behind us. But his brain is gone for tonight. My ingenious and devious plan has failed miserably.
Well, nothing doing. I'll just have to go to him after Ulfric's death and improvise.
I return downstairs where I run into Anuriel, until recently the steward of Jarl Laila.
What is that sneaky bitch doing here? I understand the jarl of The Rift and her retinue have been given shelter on the friendly territory, but why would Maven banish her agent? She is even acting as if she hated me.
Then it dawns to me. Anuriel is continuing to work as Maven's spy! I'll have to remember to have her thoroughly interrogated and executed after Yrsarald and I have taken over here. Exposing her as an enemy agent will earn me a few points with the storks for sure.
In the last minute, I remember to go and check out the passages that lead to the prison. I'm rather appalled to find out there is no other exit! Those passages I saw near the eastern harbor are an entirely separate dungeon.
This means there is no way to sneak into the palace without being seen. I'm going to have to enter through the front door. Of course the guards won't prevent me, and I would have no difficulties getting to Ulfric's bedroom which, as you know, is right next to Yrsarald's, but I won't be able to deny having been in the palace. I guess I'll just have to confront Yrsarald with a fait accompli and put our love to the test. If he'll hate me after that, then so be it. I'm sure I'll be able to find a good man back home in High Rock.
Downcast in more than one way, I return to my house and go to sleep.
next awakening
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