Chapter Sixteen: Krosis
“That's incredible...” The orc's words wouldn't be the ones I would choose, but honestly there was nothing else that fully encompassed what had happened in Windhelm. The fall of the Sea Wall, the destruction of life, Ulfric's declaration on Cyrodiil... It was truly incredible. Drablek was a far better listener than encourager, but I didn't need counsel. I needed a vent.
Moorside Inn was quiet compared to most taverns I'd been in, but it was a little surprising that no one but Jonna and Lurbuk were inside. I reasoned the rest were all still busy helping the city mend and rebuilding their fort. I didn't mind the vacancy in the slightest as it became the perfect place for Drablek and I to talk. I had planned on just heading to Hraggstad and being done with the whole ordeal, but when my thoughts wouldn't allow me to rest, I changed course to Morthal. The orc was the only one not in Windhelm I could talk to anymore.
I propped my head up with my hand, staring at the empty mug in front of me. I spared no detail from him, not at all fearing he would accuse me of treason. The worst he would do to me is pummel me into the ground, and I figured that would hurt less than the mental prison I found myself in. Instead, I found him more understanding than expected. “So,” I concluded, keeping my voice low, “I'm off to Fort Hraggstad and then... I don't know.”
The orc took his flagon, the fullest of the three in front of him, and downed a couple big gulps. He wiped the foam from his lips and tusks before grumbling, “Not Cyrodiil?”
“Not after I left my uncle and the Penitus Oculatus,” I told him, shaking my head. “I gave that life up for the Stormcloaks. I don't have anything now.”
We resorted to silence as Lurbuk walked over to us. Without asking, he refilled my mug along with Drablek's three. He stated, motioning to the innkeeper at the bar, “Jonna says it's on her. Says you look like you need a couple more pints. I think you could do with a song instead.”
I forced a smile, but thankfully Drablek cut in, “She doesn't want to hear your howling. How about I tip you just to stay quiet?” He grinned at the other orc, offering him a couple coins.
Lurbuk chuckled. He took the coins from the other's hand and pocketed them. “You're just missing an exclusive song from the best bard in Skyrim, but a septim is a septim.” He patted my shoulder before leaving us alone, heading back to the bar to finish off his own drink.
When he was out of earshot, Drablek sighed and shook his head. “Gods help us...” I felt him nudge me a moment later, replying to what I said prior., “You sound like an Imperial again- whining about what you don't have. What about what you do have?”
My eyes were stinging again like I wanted to cry, but I didn't have the energy anymore. My well dried up somewhere between Whiterun and Morthal. Instead, I took another drink of ale. “What would that be? I don't have a family anymore. I don't have a direction to go. I don't even have a country of my own. I have nothing, Drablek.”
“You have life don't you?” the orc asked, taking my shoulders and forcing me to look him in the eyes. “You don't owe anyone anything. You don't have to have a side at all.” As he withdrew his hands, he chuckled softly. “We orc are simple with no choice but to fight. We are bred to kill and to do anything else is considered weak. Men are different. You become many things. You don't have to fall perfectly in line with one another. You are living as though you are an orc.”
I was silent for a few moments to consider what he was saying. I set my mug down and asked for clarity, “You don't think I need to fight anymore?”
“I don't think you need to feel obligated to fight anymore.” The orc leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he got comfortable. “If what you're saying is true, if this is all your fault, maybe it's time to be something else. You can go anywhere and be anyone you want to be. Leave Skyrim and Cyrodiil to handle their own problems and ignore it all. You've done all you can.”
I watched him, carefully searching for any indication he was joking, but all signs told me he was serious. The thought was, if I was honest with myself, the best option. I didn't need to put up a fight any longer. I didn't even need to take the fort. I could fall off the map: hop on a boat with no direction and start over. Drablek was right. There was nothing and no one going to stop me. Yet, I couldn't dismiss this nagging emotion in my mind- guilt.
It would be much easier to ignore the war, as the orc suggested, but that's what landed Skyrim in trouble to begin with. Our empire turned a blind eye to their suffering to make ourselves feel better. We shifted the blame to those trying to fight for freedom and let the Thalmor suss out those who knew the truth. Even if Ulfric wasn't right, I didn't see how I could leave knowing everything I did. No matter how far I traveled, I couldn't escape what I knew in my own mind. The faces I had seen and stories I heard would forever haunt me, even in the farthest reaches of Nirn. If I abandoned everyone now, I would be worse than General Tullius; I would be worse than Emperor Titus Mede II.
After several moments of silent consideration. I rose to my feet. The movement caused the gray-green skinned orc to smile. Without even saying a word, he knew what I had decided in my mind. Still, he asked me, “Where are you going?”
“Fort Hraggstad.” I drew a deep breath, unable to stop the faint smile that tugged my lips. “I may have a choice in life, but I'm choosing to do this. I can't turn my back on these people.”
The chuckle that left his throat radiated across the tavern. He leaned forward again, grabbing a flagon from in front of him. “I was hoping you'd say that.” He downed the entire drink before rising to his feet as well, taking his freshly-cleaned warhammer from where it leaned against a nearby stool. “It's been a few days since I broke some bones.”
“You want to come with me?”
He put the warhammer over his shoulder as he walked over. “You may well have a life to live but trying to take on an entire fort of Legionnaires alone may cut it short. At least if I'm there the odds of getting out alive are better.” He towered over me, tusks and eyes gleaming. His hand went over his heart in a salute as he tried to take a more sincere approach. “There's few Imperials I would kill for, but I'd charge into Oblivion for you, Stormblade. You gave me hope of a second chance. I should repay the favor.”
I shook my head, still smiling. “You know you don't owe me that, Drablek.”
“I may not, but we orc fight for our clans. I won't let one of my own fight alone.” My eyes rested on his salute. I wouldn't be able to talk him out of going with me. He was just as determined as I was to protect his own. I finally nodded, saluting him in return. At the gesture, he smiled widely and growled in excitement. “Ready to kick in Tullius' door?”
“I've been ready since I met him,” I retorted, smirking as I headed to the tavern exit. I held it open for him only to find he wasn't immediately behind me. Instead he was downing the other two mugs of alcohol on the table. I laughed lightly, calling out, “You won't be much help to me drunk, orc!”
As he finished his last gulp, wiping his chin with his fur bracer, he waved me off. “It will take more than this to mess with me.” His eyes darted to Jonna who playfully scowled at him. “Your mead is delicious though!” He chuckled heartily as he made his way to the door. “Tell Lurbuk to save me a couple pints for when I get back.”
“Get out of here, orc!” Jonna shouted playfully. The woman's smile softened as our eyes made contact. “Talos Guide You, Stormcloaks. Take that fort like you took Morthal!” I returned the expression, saluting her before shutting the door behind us.
Outside the inn, I could hear the chirping and buzzing of the swamp insects that only seemed to get more numerous as Mundus disappeared from the sky. They seemed unaffected by the gentle snow that had started since my arrival. Our horses were just barely visible across the town, illuminated by the sporadic torches the guard had placed to help light the way in those dark winter nights. I had to jog to catch up to Drablek as he hurried to our mounts. The ground was just wet enough to leave our prints but plenty cold enough to freeze our boots. I didn't blame him for hurrying so fast.
He chose one of the dappled mares that were tired to the post, quickly relieving her of any extra weight in her saddlebags. My horse was already prepped, so I simply climbed on and waited for him to finish with his own. He worked quickly, but it seemed his mind was working just as fast. “We'll get there in a few hours,” he stated, finally removing the last of the saddle bags. “Do you have a plan going into this, or are you going to improvise like you seem to do everything else?”
I smirked at his jest. “What do you think?” My smile softened as he mounted his horse and looked over to me. “I'll come up with something along the way,” I assured him, turning my horse towards the road and nudging her forward.
The orc caught up to me as both our horses fell into a matching gate, keeping perfect pace with each other. The large-bodied orc made the mare look small, but the horse did well to support his weight. “I don't expect this fort to be as easy as Morthal's. It's the Empire's last stronghold outside of Solitude after all.”
I shook my head in agreeance. “No, it's going to be Oblivion trying to get in. We'll manage though. They'll be expecting an army, not two renegades. I just hope the two of us will be enough.”
“Are you kidding?” Drablek grinned. “An Orc and an Imperial against an entire Legion fort?” He paused for just a moment before continuing, “Those milk-drinkers won't know what hit 'em.”
~ ~ ~
Fort Hraggstad was a snow-covered wasteland. Nothing but the white powder and barren trees were visible in the area north-west of Solitude at that time of year, which admittedly surprised me. We abandoned our horses quite a ways away to avoid drawing too much attention, and proceeded to stalk our way to the fort doors on foot. I let Drablek take lead to break down the knee high snow and I followed behind, hoping that any patrols that found our tracks wouldn't get suspicious. The only reason we weren't spotted across the flat land was the lack of moon and starlight. Our only guidance in the dark were the distance torches of the soldiers inside.
The two of us settled against one of the few trees to allow ourselves a break from the trek and a couple moments to get an idea of what we were up against. The patrols around the fort were fewer than I expected, but I accounted that to the fact it was the middle of the night. We would have a few hours at most to infiltrate and destroy the targets before everyone woke up again. My mind was racing to come up with a plan when I felt a pair of eyes rest on me. I drew a deep breath before whispering, “What do you think?”
The orc pointed at the two archers on top of the towers. “You could try to take them out, but the ground patrols would know.” He then pointed at the gate. “You might could take out the four there before they reach us, but then the archers would see and warn the rest of the fort.”
I laughed nervously, “So I have to decide between one death or another?”
He grumbled, “We don't have a lot of options.” Drablek cracked his knuckles as his eyes continued to scan the area. “We'd have just as much luck charging in there.”
I ran my fingers though my hair to brush it from my eyes before putting on Krosis. Like the orc said, my options were limited. “We'll do more damage if we split up then.” With his nod, I continued, “If I take out the archers for you, do you think you can handle the troops outside? At least long enough for me to sneak in?”
“A distraction?” Drablek scratched his chin before grunting. “I think I can give you a little bit of time.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, getting to my feet. I looked down at him through the mask, only the reflection of his eyes and tusks visible in the darkness. “I don't expect you to stay the whole time. You're tough, but you can't make a stand against the entire fort alone. As soon as I'm inside, get back to the hors-”
“Is that an order?” Drablek cut me off as he got to his feet as well. His tone was slightly taunting as he continued, “Considering you aren't exactly a Stormblade now, I don't think I have to carry out that order. I'm not going to leave you behind. We'll fight until we fall or take the fort.”
“I can sneak around better than you,” I tried to explain even though I knew it would be no use. The orc had it set in his mind what he would do. This would be the place of his greatest victory or finest death. I drew a deep breath before turning back towards the fort. “Stubborn orc...” I muttered, making him chuckle. “Come on then. Divines keep us.”
We carefully closed the distance between us and the fort, taking our time so that the archers didn't spot our movements in the dark. The fort was much bigger than I initially thought. It made sense considering it was the stronghold for capitol city, but I knew it would make my job more difficult. The barracks and storage rooms would no doubt be scattered around. If I wanted to give Drablek a better chance I would have to move quickly.
On the way, we had decided trying to kill everyone inside would be far more difficult and mentally taxing than it was worth. We would just have to render the fort unusable or, at the very least, poorly supplied. Just like in Mistwatch, I was planning to burn as much of their supplies as possible: food, weapons, armor. Since the Stormcloaks had taken The Reach, The Rift, and Falkreath Hold, supply lines to the Legionnaires had been almost cut off entirely. They would be crippled just as badly as if I took out a bulk of their men.
Drablek knelt beside the wall as we drew near, cupping his hands. I stepped onto them and he almost effortlessly lifted me from the ground. I peeked over the wall to make sure we still were undetected. There were the four men at the gate, three men playing cards at a table, and four more men sitting around a small fire. Drablek would have his hands full.
I pulled myself over the stone, and slid as quietly as I could down the other side of the wall. I immediately went to hiding behind the crates and barrels strategically placed around the courtyard. I had still managed to make a little too much noise. “Did you hear something?” I heard one of the Imperials ask. His boots clanked as he rose to his feet and started marching towards my hiding spot. Almost certain I had already ruined the plan, I nocked an arrow on my bow.
A terrifying shout rang out across the otherwise silent hills. The war cry was undeniably Drablek's. I held my breath as I looked towards the gate. The orc grinned widely as he rushed in, his warhammer striking two of the unsuspecting guards with a debilitating hit. As they crumbled beneath him, I heard some of the men gasp in horror. None the less, they all rushed towards him.
My eyes shifted to the watchtowers. The two archers had moved to the edge to get a better look and shot at the rogue Orsimer. They had no idea they had also positioned themselves perfectly into my sights. I drew back on the bow and aimed at the closest man. Even in the dark I was able to strike him perfectly in the skull. I didn't wait to see if the shot had killed him before firing another bolt at the other archer. I waited several seconds in my hiding place to make sure neither stood back up. Fortunately, they did not.
With the archers out of the way, I ran to the fort entrance. I felt slight guilt for leaving the orc to fight alone, but judging by the way he was handling the remaining soldiers I knew he would be fine for awhile. I just needed to hurry.
Inside the fort was much warmer than the snow-filled exterior. Torches were placed sporadically throughout the corridors, but huge fireplaces in the bigger rooms provided a bulk of the heat. Part of me wanted to warm myself by the flames a few moments. Even the Stormcloak armor didn't do much to keep out the Haafingar's winter. Still, I forced myself to move quickly in the shadows, trying to locate as many of the storage rooms as possible.
It was surprising to see the upper levels of the fort weren't guarded at all. I was able to roam freely, only stumbling on the occasional sleeping soldier in the various housing quarters. I knew the lower level prison would likely hold more men, but still their numbers were alarming. Was the empire really so weak they couldn't afford to properly stock a fort? It was almost like they were begging the Stormcloak army to take over.
Unable to find any food or weapon stocks, I carefully navigated my way to the prison door. Behind it, a stairway led into a much dimmer, much colder room. I could hear a distant voice speaking, but it wasn't loud enough for me to fully comprehend the words. I slipped down the stairway, keeping my footsteps light to avoid being heard.
At the bottom of the stairs, I was greeted by an alarming sight. Cells lined either side of the walkway, each one housing a slain prisoner's corpse. The smell of fresh blood told me they hadn't been dead long. Further down, I saw two doors; one was the exit of the prison, the other was likely the supply room. It was within sprinting distance, but I didn't make my move. I could see two figures at the far end of the hall and could finally hear their words.
“It wasn't a waste, Captain,” a feminine voice cooed, her accent thick with Elven nobility. “They weren't giving you anymore information and were using up your precious resources. You discard things when they exceed their usefulness.”
The Imperial captain replied, “People aren't 'things'.” His tone was a mix of regret and frustration. “Weren't your superiors supposed to come get them in the morning?”
“They were, but it really isn't safe to risk moving them since your armies can't seem to hold off the barbarian rebels.” She turned to face him fully when he scoffed, still cleaning the dagger in her hand. “You sound as though you don't agree with our decision. Your General Tullius agreed. Do you have something you wish to say, Captain?” The hostility in her voice grew, making her threat clear.
I watched as the Captain shied away, turning his eyes back towards the cells. I quickly hid myself behind the empty crates along the wall. Luckily, he didn't see me. “No, ma'am,” he responded quickly.
“Good,” she purred, putting her dagger away and adjusting her armor. “Ambassador Elenwen will be most pleased to hear this is taken care of. Now I will se-”
The elf was cut off by a commotion at the door. She flinched as it was kicked in by Legionnaires, letting the icy winds blow through the entire prison. Bruised and bloodied, they looked as though they had gone through Oblivion. I was more concerned with the orc they drug behind them.
Drablek was forced to the ground in front of the elf, visibly fighting to stay upright. His labored, painful breathing echoed in the otherwise quiet room. I had to force myself to stay in place to avoid running to his aid. Even his treatment at Castle Dour hadn't been that bad. The Thalmor agent looked down at the orc, utterly disgusted as she asked, “Why did you bring this pig to me?”
“He attacked the fort,” one of the men responded, out of breath himself.
“Alone?” Her question was a mix of confusion and awe. There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she looked down at Drablek. “What could you have possibly been thinking?”
He chuckled before coughing, a sound that physically pained me to hear. “Want... Wanted to smash a few... more Imperial skulls...” He paused, trying to catch his breath. “Help my friends... k-... kill you a little faster...”
The elf huffed, smiling under her helmet. “Your friends? The Stormcloak Rebels?” At the orc's nod she looked at the Captain. “They're planning to take this fort, just as we expected. Good thing this beast came here to warn us.” She giggled as Drablek growled through his tusks. “Did you think you could do it alone? Surely you didn't plan to kill everyone yourself.”
“There... There's other ways... to take you down,” he sneered. “You showed me that... by locking me in Castle Dour.”
“Did we?” She tilted her head as she thought about his words. “Ah, of course. Their reserves.” She turned her back to him to walk over to the store room, opening the unlocked door. Behind it was nothing but the minimum supplies. There were a few spare uniforms and swords hanging on the wall and one or two crates of food. “Tullius was withdrawing his troops to fortify Solitude. You can help yourself to what's left,” she mocked him. I could feel my heart sink. We had done all of this for nothing.
The orc cursed her, shifting slightly as he tried to rise to his feet. The Legionnaires forced him back down. Too weak to do anything else, he warned her, “They'll... take Solitude then. This... This war will end... and you Elves... will pay.”
She hummed in amusement again. “So we've been told. Captain,” she started, looking towards the man. “He's exceeded his usefulness as well.”
At her words, the Imperial unsheathed his sword. Before I had a chance to react, the man drove the thick blade through Drablek's chest. I forced a hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming in fear. My body trembled as tears stung my eyes. The orc simply grunted, his heavy breathing ceasing almost immediately. With the withdrawal of the blade, his body fell, blood spilling onto the already soaked floor.
I couldn't stop shaking as I forced myself to look at the body of my friend: a death I had caused. It was a terrible feeling knowing that I willingly let him fall for me, even more so that I had watched and not been fast enough to react. His death and blood wasn't on their hands. It was on my own.
The elf simply stepped over the fallen orc on her way to the door. “Check the fort,” she ordered the men. “He didn't come here alone. Orcs are stupid, but not reckless. He wouldn't have attacked if he didn't think he had a chance to win.” She didn't wait around to dismiss the mens' salutes. She headed back into the cold on a self-imposed mission to gods-knew where.
I forced myself to calm down as the Captain began ordering the men that remained to search for me. He ordered them all upstairs but stayed to check the prison himself. I pressed myself against the wall, sliding further between the crates as the men passed. Whether by a miracle or their distracted state, none of them saw me.
I waited for the sound of the closing door before I dared move again. I could take the Captain alone, but I would have no chance against all of them. I silently slid back into the walkway, my eyes locked on the man ahead of me. His sword was drawn but I could tell he wasn't actually expecting to find me down there with him. I would have come to the rescue of my Stormcloak brother. I should have.
I found myself staring at the lifeless body of the orc before I moved to attack the man. There was a mix of emotions that I couldn't describe. I was clearly upset, but more than that, I was furious. I felt guilty and hurt. I couldn't get over what I allowed to happen. Mixed with the emotions from Windhelm, my mind was buzzing with a million thoughts. I had to do something and unfortunately the unsuspecting Captain was in front of me.
I had never taken a life without feeling some kind of guilt before. I always tried to make every death impersonal; each person I had to kill with honor. That Captain was different. All the self-directed feelings I had went into my attack. He didn't hear me until it was too late. Bow in hand, I put as much force as I could into hitting him in the skull with the heavy, wooden body. The collision made a loud crack and the man fell forward with a cry of pain.
I wasted no time in getting behind him and hooking his throat within the smooth curve of the bow. I pulled his heavy body against mine, letting him choke and struggle in my grasp. His hands grabbed at the carved wood as he desperately tried to pull it away and allow the cold wind to enter his lungs again. I didn't allow it. The more he struggled, the tighter I pulled the bow. After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped resisting.
I dropped him to the floor as if he were nothing more than a sack of flour. The collision splashed puddled blood against my boots and shins. He had stopped moving, but I couldn't stop shaking. I realized I was crying. I didn't feel an ounce better either; I felt so much worse.
The sounds of walking upstairs reminded me I needed to leave, a luxury that Drablek no longer had. I turned my friend onto his back, checking in vain for a pulse. He was a bloodied mess. His arms and legs were gashed open from swords and axes. Besides the wound that killed him, his torso held multiple stabs. His face was bruised and bloodied as well. Yet, he smiled. His eyes, half-lidded and void of life, still gave the impression he was at peace. He enjoyed the fight. He died as an orc.
As much as I didn't want to, I left his body there. There was no way I could have taken him back to Morthal on my own. I thought about returning to get Lurbuk's help, but I knew by then the Legionnaires would have discarded him. I had to leave on my own, a choice that seemed to become habit.
I slipped out the door to find the courtyard still empty of life. Several corpses of Imperial soldiers littered the ground. It was clear Drablek didn't go down without a fight. Of the eleven, eight of them found their rest in the Haafingar snows. The blood had already began soaking the pure white, but at least the skirmish had packed the snow down enough to hide my footprints. I wasted no more time I as ran from the fort and back into the darkness.
I only slowed my pace when I found the road again. By that time, my tears had dried and froze to my cheeks. My heart weighed heavy in my chest. It was a failed mission by all accounts. Nothing was gained, everything was lost. I didn't know why I should have expected it to go any differently. I knew it was doomed form the moment it began, yet I still dragged Drablek into the fray. He was the one that paid for the blunder.
My thoughts had me wandering farther than I anticipated. I wasn't sure if I had passed the horses in my distracted state or they had simply left, but I knew I was not going to find them again. I would have to make the long haul back to Morthal by foot, if I could figure out what road I was on. It was hard enough to see in the pitch black night but my mind couldn't concentrate enough to look for any familiar landmarks. I could only see distant lights of a settlement or camp further down the road. I reluctantly headed for that.
By the time I neared the lights, a faint sunrise had began to peek over the mountain. I could better see the trees that held snow in their branches and make out the shapes of mountain flowers as they forced their way through the fluff. It was much lighter than back at the fort, but there was still an inch or two of snow still covering the ground.
It crunched beneath my feet despite how quietly I was trying to walk. It was frustrating, but the noise alerted me when something else began walking towards me. I quickly drew my sword calling into the dark, “Who is it? Who's there?” My eyes tracked the darkness until I could barely make out a hulking form heading straight for me. I was nearly ready to strike the relentless figure until I heard a familiar nicker. “Epona?”
The white Cyrodilic mare walked over to me without fear. She recognized my smell and immediately began nosing at all my pockets for a treat. I laughed softly, hugging onto the thin mare's neck. I didn't realize how much I missed her, even if she did just want me for treats.
I looked past her towards the town a little further down the hill. Sure enough, the settlement was Dragon Bridge. I could see the torches outside of the homes and businesses lighting up the pathways. It was far emptier than when I had left it. There were no more Penitus Oculatus patrols during those early morning hours. There was no reason for them to be afraid anymore with the Dark Brotherhood wiped out. There was just the farmer's goat wandering in the low light.
I surprised myself by stepping towards the town. Fully clothed in Stormcloak armor, I was asking to be killed, but I just wanted to see him. I needed Uncle Oritius. I needed to be held and be told lies that I was a good person and was loved. I wanted to confess every wrong I'd done just to let it off my chest at last. I needed to feel better and escape the hole I had dug for myself, even if for a moment. I wanted to give myself up. I knew he wouldn't kill me, but I was sure his look of disappointment surely would.
As I lingered, watching the small town begin to light up with Mundus' rays, I thought about Gaius. I imagined him standing next to me, watching the town wake up like we had done every morning since we arrived. I could hear him joke about the cold and envy the Nords for their warmer blood. Then, I felt him hug me, the warmth of his arms wrapping around my smaller, shaking body. “I'm not as brave as you are,” I heard him whisper, his words echoing those he spoke months ago. “You've always been the one to fight for fairness and against cruelty... I'm proud of you.”
I took a deep breath as the thoughts faded from my mind along with the warmth of his arms. He reminded me the reason I chose Ulfric's side. I had to keep doing what was right. I had to fight the Empire and the Thalmor as long as I could. I knew I couldn't do that sitting behind prison doors or hidden away in my room back home. I needed to keep the fight going here, regardless of if I was a Stormcloak or not.
I turned back to Epona, finding the mare's gaze still resting on me. “Let's go to Morthal,” I told her. “I'll get you something to eat there.” The mare walked towards me, as if she understood my words. I giggled as I rubbed her nose. Her warm breath felt great on my hands, but I knew a fire's heat would feel better. Without wasting another moment, I mounted and turned her towards the swampy city.
She trotted down the road in moderate silence, the only sound being her hooves as they crunched the snow beneath them. I could hear the songbirds whistling as they finally began to wake. They too seemed to be anxious to get moving, the cold likely chilling their frail bones as they slept in unheated nests. Between the sounds of their chirping and the distance crashing of sea waves, I mistakenly thought the moment was peaceful.
I thought I was seeing things in my sleep-deprived state as I stared further down the road. There were three figures on approach, but they stopped when they saw me as well. Through the slits of my mask I tried to recognize the forms or dismiss them as a delusion. I wasn't given the chance as I heard a soft, distant thud and felt pain shoot through my chest.
Epona shrieked at the noise. The startled animal reared, tossing me from the saddle. I would have been able to stay on, but I found myself unable to move. My body became paralyzed as the arrow that sank into my skin delivered the vital poison. I hit the ground hard enough to knock the air from my chest. I gasped for breath, my lungs being the only organ that seemed to work. I could see the arrow sticking out from my shoulder and recognized it as Elven in origin.
“That has to be the one,” I heard an Elven voice mutter when the figures approached my motionless body. “The tracks from the fort lead here.”
“That's Stormcloak armor,” a Nord woman reported. I fell into a panic as I recognized the voice as Rikke's, though the voice that followed was even more terrifying.
“That it is,” Tullius muttered. “Finally we get some good news.” I watched the three approach me, powerless to move or speak. The armored elf from the fort grinned as she leaned over me, glancing at the two Legionnaires. The man nodded to her, his sword in hand. “Take off the mask. Let's finally get a face to the coward.”
The woman hummed in amusement, grabbing Krosis and ripping it from my head. A faint involuntary cry left my lips as my head hit the stone streets once again. Unmasked, they realized who I was. The elf showed no change in her sadistic grin, no doubt eager to report to her superiors that she was the one who caught me. Rikke, on the other hand, looked horrified. Her angry expression had shifted as though she had seen a friend killed before her eyes.
Tullius sneered at me, scoffing as he took pride in finally seeing me weak at his feet. “Talia Maro,” he spoke my name like it tasted sour in his mouth. “I'm not surprised in the slightest.”
Rikke immediately spoke up, “We need to get Commander Maro, right now. He needs to know we-”
“Not yet,” Tullius cut her off. “We're going to talk to her first. Alone.” He looked back down at me. I could feel the poison wearing off enough so that I could speak. He seemed to notice as well. “Get her back to Castle Dour. I want to know everything she knows about the Stormcloaks.”
“Wa-Wait,” I tried to speak out through labored breaths. The General wouldn't hear it. With a swift motion I felt the hilt of the sword slam into my skull. The pain soon ebbed away, as did my feelings of cold. The sounds of their talking and birds chirping died as well. I was sucked into the darkness; I welcomed the sleep.
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