(General POV)
In one of the many passes carved through Mount Anothor, a large, if somewhat disorganized, military camp dotted with blue banners with the symbol of the snarling bear stood firmly against the cold night winds threatening to batter its inhabitants down the many dangerous inclines which dotted its surface.
A large fur lined tent stood at its center, heavily armored guards standing tall and doing their best to ignore the shouting currently happening within.
An aged Nord built like a bear and clad in a cloak bearing said animal's likeness slammed the rugged table below him, the young man who moments earlier brought them the news wincing at the sound "Talos damn it all!" He roared "First it is that damned elf and now it is dragons! Do the gods take enjoyment in our suffering?!"
His liege lord palmed his face, hiding his own fury "Calm yourself Galmar, blaming the gods for our misfortune will give us nothing. We must focus on doing what we can, not lamenting ourselves." He gave a sidelong glance to the messenger "Or the failures of our own."
Skirnir Stormcloak lowered his eyes, partially ashamed by the chastisement and partially furious by his father's evident lack of care for his life.
The Stormcloak General sucked in a breath before allowing himself to calm slightly "You are right, of course" He admitted as he shook his head "But that does not give us a solution for our current problem."
"It is simple" Ulfric Stormcloak spoke after a moment of thought "We must win, and we must win hard, pushing as far into their territory as we can once the advantage is ours. The time for half measures is over. We will win, Talos willing, or we will die." As he spoke he moved a figurine carved in his likeness to a certain spot on the map of Dawnstar Hold.
Galmar stared at him for a long while, admiration and concern equal in his eyes "Risky." He spoke finally "I like it."
Ulfric allowed himself a huff of amusement before he once more turned serious "Send a message to Windhelm and tell them to have our hidden brothers emerge and overthrow the imperial lapdogs ruling over their holds." He pauses, almost hesitating for a moment, before he firms his expression and speaks "And tell them to summon all available warriors to the front, tell them to conscript them if they have to, we cannot afford to lose here or our people will forever remain under the yoke of Cyrodiil."
"The elf will inevitably be there." Galmar adds cautiously "He will not make this easy."
Ulfric frowned deeply as his son shivered in remembrance "What is it boy?"
"H-he" Skirnir gulped before calming himself "He is far stronger than you think, he stood up to the dragon and held it back on his own!"
"He has already killed one in Blackreach, whelp." Galmar's word carried a question.
"You don't get it." Skirnir shook his head "He had an army in Blackreach, in Helgen he stood up to it on his own, their fight shattered the entire city and probably more but that is all I could see before they shoved me underground."
"Cowardice aside." Ulfric stared down at his son "If what you say is true, then we will have to take him down as quickly as possible, lest he ravage our troops without us being able to do a thing."
Galmar spat on the ground "Damn elves and their magic."
"We must plan around him then." Ulfric turned to the tent's entrance "Summon Shatter-Shield and his apprentices!." As a housecarl shuffled away he looked back to Galmar "Even if they are not his match, their experience will be useful at least."
"He will be eager to avenge his own." Galmar nodded solemnly.
"Boy." Ulfric called after a brief silence "Fetch the reports, we will go over them again."
Soon, the hustle and bustle of the Stormcloak encampment magnified as changes to plans were made and spots for even more tents were cleared, the troops drilled themselves into exhaustion and the bards extolled the virtues of their cause.
None of them noticed a dark figure slinking away into the night, the mail they wore producing no sound as they simply disappeared as if they were never there.
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(Reyvin's POV, days later)
I knew the mountains stopped a good chunk of the frigid air but damn did I not expect Dawnstar's hold to still be this freezing during springtime. The cold winds were a factor but the fact it was still snowing in some places told me there was something deeper amiss.
"This place fucking sucks." Scorch comments from below me "Then again it is a bunch of idiot n'wahs, makes sense they are not worthy of the sun!" Somehow he manages to nod smugly to himself while still flying faster than some planes.
"Could just be that they were unlucky enough to be at the edge of a cold sea current." I shrug "Not that it matters, we have arrived."
As we crested the massive cloud hiding our passage a vast tract of land came into sight, giving me a literal bird's eye view of half the hold, and after a cursory scan I had a pretty good idea of what was going on on the entire Dawnstar front.
Speaking of the frozen hellhole, I also got a good look at the city itself and I had to say it surprised me by how well built the whole thing was. A vast stone wall, not particularly tall but definitely wider than most, stood as both protection against invaders and a dyke to hold back the downright massive moat the city surrounded itself with fed directly from the sea.
The entire side of the city facing the Sea of Ghosts was completely covered in a massive series of fishing docks and one larger one for merchants and warships being stationed in the middle. Numerous ships, most of them burned by the Imperial Navy blockade, swayed lightly in the waves as their crews were forced to do naught but wait the siege out.
Although to their credit I could see the imperial galleys had suffered a fair bit of battle damage as well, none of the ships were sunk but the fighting must have been rough on both sides. Too bad for the rebels that the Imperial Navy and the East Empire Company had far better ships. The residents of Dawnstar were fisherfolk and rarely raiders in times of war, their fleets just couldn't compete.
The interior of the city looked surprisingly clean from my perspective, an almost tier-like system of streets and building height seemed to be the norm, with the Jarl's keep at the center being the tallest and the rest getting progressively smaller as they came close to the walls, at which point the entire city seemed to just stop, leaving a large gap between the people's residences and the wall itself.
Thus creating the perfect kill zone in case anyone invaded.
And yet, even with the respectable work the architects and planners did and the presence of my people to the distant east, my eyes were drawn to a singular point. A small hill to the city's east, still within the walls themselves, housing a tall stone tower which served as the entire coast's lighthouse.
A lighthouse currently radiating an aura of such lethargy and subtle terror I was half tempted to blow the whole thing up out of hand. Naturally, that would have done absolutely nothing so I contented myself with viciously smacking the influence of the demon within from my mind and making it sting her ever so slightly.
She'd get her turn once I was done freeing the populace from their own stupidity and the time came to free them from their nightmares as well. I wouldn't even be a dick about it, she did give us access to easy propaganda after all.
Leaving such plans aside I finally entered a relatively safe radius for precise teleportation, and announced by the slight cracking of the air I appeared in front of the Legion's command center within the heart of the veritable fortress they had surrounded within raiding distance from the city itself.
The elite guards protecting Tullius' tents didn't even bother twitching as I appeared in front of them, the apparent leader of the quartet simply pointing his thumb behind him "The General is in, sir."
As the rest of them offered salutes I found myself unable to even be annoyed so I offered a lazy salute of my own and stepped inside.
The sight that greeted me was the usual hustle and bustle of the Legionary command, a good number of the officers within looking very worn out from the forced march they made all the way from Helgen while the rest seemed as well rested as one could be on a battlefield.
Which was not very.
Tullius was far more chipper himself however, the old Imperial knowing damn well that his being tired and making a dumb decision had far greater consequences than some random logistician forgetting to give a single unit their next shipment of javelins.
Rikke wasn't present and neither were a good number of the other officers I knew of but one quick scan showed her on the other side of the camp in a similar command post, likely to ensure operational security and a good reaction time.
I also sensed some familiar auras in a closed portion of the camp, something to ask the General later I supposed.
Another section of the vast military camp housed a bunch of Breton knights doing their thing. The groups from the other cities had finally arrived and I could already see the politicking going on between the different orders if the small walls they erected between each others sections were anything to go by.
Though I had to appreciate the sheer pomp of their upbringing when I noticed an actual jousting ground in the middle of it, where a duo of knights were currently battering each other with a mix of magic and inertia.
Still, that was mostly irrelevant at the moment, I was here for a reason.
As he noticed me enter, Tullius' eyes immediately bore into mine, the map below him swiftly left forgotten as he asked the question which no doubt weighed on his mind greatly "What happened at Whiterun?"
"Still haven't gotten a full report?" I ask idly and he shakes his head.
Nodding in understanding I take a seat one of the lesser officers offered me, I light up a cigar, take a moment to enjoy it, and give my answer "A dragon attacked one of the surrounding forts, many died but it was brought down and the will of the Divine was made known to all."
It takes him a brief moment to realize what I was getting at but the moment he does the man looks like a ton of rocks was just lifted from his shoulders "Good." He states, spreading relief to his subordinates "That is... good." He settles again, almost as if to reassure himself.
"Quite." I offer neutrally "But I do believe we have more pressing matters to attend to."
Tullius' entire demeanor shifts back to his usual stoic General persona as he nods "You are right, we have a war to win." He signals one of his Quaestors to approach, having him place carved figurines at the large central table "As we expected" Tullius begins as the young man places a line of blue figures to the east, just across a small river "The rebels' operations picked up as soon as the ice retreated, multiple villages and fortifications have already been destroyed in the fighting with a number being burned as to deny us any ability to operate in those areas still designated as hazardously cold."
"The villagers?" I ask with a slight edge.
"Most accepted being moved to the city by their 'liberators'." Tullius allows himself a brief moment of sarcasm "The rest were simply left out in the cold. Thankfully being Nords they usually survived."
"But not all." I note icily "Who gave the order?"
Tullius huffs to himself "I would love to know that myself, but the Dawnstar Raiders are a largely independent unit, given free reign by their Jarl to ensure our army is unable to muster the logistics to storm the city without catastrophic losses."
"So Skald is getting gelded." I nod immediately "Got it."
A couple of the officers pale but most look gleeful at the idea.
Tullius hums to himself, almost as if actually considering it. Finally, he settles on "Many things happen on the battlefield." He ponders aloud "Should he be found heavily wounded I am certain that no one would look too deeply into it."
"Right." I snort.
"Our current plan." He indicates the same river neatly cutting the entire theatre in half "Is to storm the Icevein river and encircle the city, allowing us to fortify ourselves against attack from the city itself and giving us the perfect opportunity to head off Ulfric's reinforcements."
"A defeat in detail?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.
"Indeed." Tullius nods "The force guarding the river and city numbers slightly over ten thousand, and their reinforcements over twelve as your own agents provided." He gives me a brief look of thanks before continuing "We are twenty three thousand strong ourselves, with forces from all of the loyal holds present. I intend to leave the warriors from Markarth and Morthal to fend off any counterattacks from Dawnstar while we focus on bringing down the Stormcloak army and hopefully capture Ulfric."
"Wouldn't hold my breath for that one." I quip, earning an annoyed scowl from the man "And the plan after that?" I ask.
"No need to overcomplicate it." Tullius nods "Let them start starving briefly then storm the walls and docks at the same time and it will fall within days at most. The people are already close to rioting due to your efforts and Skald's inability to resolve the nightmare issue so we would not have to wait long."
"Very well." I allow "But should said starvation start getting out of hand we will be having words."
Silencing the indignant cries of a small number of his command staff, Tullius simply nods "Of course, we are here to restore order, not to butcher." That seems to calm the indignant among the officers as they nod proudly.
I spend a silent moment looking over the now heavily populated map, and ask "When is Ulfric supposed to arrive?"
"Our scouts report a week in the shortest." He tells me "But something tells me that even with their superior training and guides they still missed a large number of the mountain passages so he could very well appear tomorrow for all we know."
"So we must act fast." I surmize "If we wish to be safe we must ford the river and have everything prepared within..." I allow my clairvoyance to work its magic for a while, testing each and every possible timeframe and looking for the one that felt the most optimal "...Two days." I declare.
Tullius did not need to ask me for the reason behind that specific number and merely allowed himself to curse quietly, his silent 'Divines damn it' going unheard by all except myself. He quickly gets himself back together however "I am afraid that such a rapid construction will wither even the Legion, leaving us open to attack."
I tilt my head and stare down at the map, searching for a place of interest. It doesn't take me long before I notice one of the larger mountain passes marked with what I guessed was a symbol for a burial ground "What is that place?" I ask.
Tullius looks at it, and then to one of his officers. The Quaestor nods and approaches "That spot marks Myrnid's Rest, sir Court Mage." He lists off "It is a medium sized burial ground filled to the brim with Draugr and Divines know what other horrors."
"Hmmm..." I hum lightly and nod at the man, he takes it as the silent command to leave it was and I find myself in whispering distance of the General "I noticed you have the little... penal battalion present in camp." I say so quietly only he could hear me.
He nods "I do... why?"
"It would seem I have found the perfect place for them to redeem themselves." I point at Myrnid's Rest and say nothing more.
Tullius frowns but it doesn't take him long to realize what I was getting at "You wish to have them use the tomb's... resources? As a delaying tactic."
"Yes." I nod "Any necromancer of sufficient skill can take over an undead being, having them fling the walking corpses at our enemies should buy us a day if they do it well."
The General's mouth twists in obvious distaste but it takes him only a moment's hesitation before he nods "Very well, do with them as you will. Just make sure the attack doesn't get connected back to us."
I wave his concerns off "As much as they may hate us, even the Stormcloaks will hesitate to accuse us of defiling their tombs."
"Right." Tullius deadpans.
"In any case." I speak a bit louder this time, signaling the conversation as over "Do you have reports of enemy archmagi present within the city itself?"
"There are none." Tullius immediately confirms "The presence of the Flame-Heart twins in the Legion has done well in keeping that particular clan back form joining the fight directly, but I doubt they would pose much of a challenge to you in any case."
"Most likely not, considering what I know of their mentality." I note offhandedly "Where are the twins anyway?"
"In Solitude." He answers simply.
"Probably wise." I accept easily and then focus on the real question "In that case I will have no issues with joining the battle myself, where do you want me?"
"Your own forces have been spotted setting up camp at the edge of the mountains near the coast two days ago, I've already sent the 54th cohort to join them alongside Battlemage Tiberius." He informs me "I want you to join them and assist us in a pincer maneuver once our main assault begins."
"Classic hammer and anvil." I hum approvingly, earning a surprised raise of an eyebrow from the aged General, but something in his words confuses me somewhat "The 54th cohort? Anything special about them?"
"They proved their courage many times over in their defense of Helgen's sole mountain passage." Tullius smiles lightly "I do believe you are acquainted with the recently promoted Quaestor in charge of them as well."
A vicious grin spreads on my face as I realize who he was talking about "Tullius, my good man, you give the best of gifts."
Far away, across half the hold, a certain orc wearing his newly forged legionary steel plate suddenly felt a shiver go down his spine.
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STOOOOOHNNNNNNN!!!!!
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