North of Falkreath, near Cracked Tusk Keep
Sun’s Dawn 19, 4E210
Vrael, Dovahkin and Hero in Exile.


The elk with the impressive fourteen point rack remained paused just behind the low riding rock. One hundred yards to the passive animal’s south, a man, dressed in all leather armor had a elegant bow, masked by magical enchantment, raised and pointed at the animal. The bow’s wielder drew a iron arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it on the bow’s string, pulling the string back all the way, causing the arrow feathers to rub on his lower jaw, an all too familiar feeling he had missed. He took a breath and let the arrow loose, it whizzing through the air till it embedded itself right in the mammal’s chest. The animal gave a jerk and took off bolting east, towards the road. The man gave chase, immediately standing up from his crouched position and sprinting after the beast. He continued to follow it to the road, knowing he’d surely miss if he’d try to hit the moving target in the wooded, rocky terrain. However, after moments of the sprint through the forest, Vrael could see a clearing coming up and with a small grin, gained a second wind and sprinted right, entering the clearing a few seconds before the animal. He turned left, awaiting the animal, and just as he had nocked his second arrow, it’s head emerged into the unwooded land. Almost instantaneous, a arrow darted through the short distance between the hunter and the hunted, and embedded itself in the creature’s head, causing it to slam up against the tree to it’s left and then fall to the ground.

The man walked over to the beast’s carcass and brushed back the leather hood he was wearing, revealing a large mass of long brown hair, groomed back and knotted on the side, with a trimmed but large brown beard covering his face, hiding some of his scars. One prevailed and traveled from his left eyebrow down to just above his beard. As he knelt down to remove his arrows from the carcass, he sensed something behind and quickly in a spin, drew and arrow and had it nocked and pointing at a elder man, who was standing in the road, watching in utter shock and slight bemusement. The two men stood there for what seemed ages, examining each other before finally the hunter spoke “ You going to speak old man, or does my arrow need to introduce itself to your gibbet?”
A phrase that would have intimidated any other younger man, the old Nord simply continued his steely gaze for moments, carefully studying the hunter’s face and body features, and then with a grin returned a reply “ You’re him aren’t you? The Hero of Old, Slayer of Alduin the World Eater, Conqueror of Windhel...”
The hunter, sensing the man meant him no harm, nocked his arrow and slung his bow across his back and then stood up, revealing his entire towering six foot five and one hundred and eighty pound frame. He approached the old Nord till they were just four feet apart and then replied, his ice blue eyes ringing with a resounding steeled nerve “ By Talos, save your pent up glory for the mead halls and taverns. Aye, I go by many names have you’ve just exampled, but I prefer the one given to me at birth, Vrael.”

The Old Nord’s face lit up when his suspicions were confirmed and he immediately looked like he had gained a younger person’s energy and lost a couple decades off of his age. “ All of Tamriel has been looking for you after you just upped and vanished off the face of Mundus. The Empire still needs you, there’s rumors of the Thalmor and then this Alain Du...”

Once more, Vrael interrupted the man with a raised hand and his eyes darted over to the figure approaching them, a slender feminine figure that belonged to his companion Serana. He then returned his gaze to the man and replied. “ As the Emperor and Elder Council clearly proved to me, they have no need nor desire my advice or help.”

As his companion approached, he went over to the slain elk and pulled leather strips out of a pocket on his armor and bound the four hooves together into one and then dragged it over to the side of the road, where he made a simple facial expression at Serana and she pulled out a dagger and began to carve the meat off of the animal. Vrael grabbed a fallen log and pulled it over to the side of the road and sat down, pulling an apple out of his sack and cutting a piece of and then eating it, while listening to the Nord’s patronizing plea’s. “ O no Master Vrael, in fact the very same two entities have had every available agent and resource hunting you. The Blades, the Synod, the College of Winterhold, even the Thieves Guild! They need your help against Alain Du..”

“ Enough old man. I have no desire to return to them, and I intend to remain like. Now, I trust you will have enough wisdom that was endowed upon you by the Nine Divines to keep this encounter to ourselves yes?”

The old Nord watched Vrael consume another apple piece and then cracked his jaw. He went to speak but instead, unfastened the buckle on his leather satchel and handed it to Vrael. He then continued walking on the road, for a few feet and then turned and looked at Vrael “ Inside the front pouch is a letter from High King Jaric and General Rikke. It was written eight months ago for you, but it’s words still hold context. I hope you never forgot that oath you swore. “

And with those last words, the old man continued his journey and left the Dovahkin and Serana along the road, Vrae heavily contemplating the man’s words and the letter he had hastily opened and read. He looked at Serana and then burnt the letter with a simple fire spell “ What do you know of Alain Dupree?”

Serana was obviously either uncomfortable with the subject or thought Vrael might be, because she shifted her position and looked Vrael square in the eyes, pausing the carving of the meat. “ He’s a Breton warrior, fought for Daggerfall in the 2nd War of Betony, no hero really. He publically claimed he was Dragonborn about a year of you pulled the vanishing stunt in Markarth and since then has become the people’s champion across the Empire, filling the void you left. “

Vrael slowly finished his apple and then chucked the core into the forest. “ What else? I sense you aren’t telling me everything. “

“ Well, as you know, you’ve had me going into the towns to make the purchases and get the news. Most of the governments across the Empire believe him to be a con, and rightly so. “

“ You think he’s a vampire? Looking to gain power since Harkon’s demise?”

“ Very unlikely. A vampire would never bring this much attention to himself. He’s most likely just one of the soon to be famed con’s that High Rock is infamous for producing. “

She paused and then added in.

“ I also hear that he’s planning to consolidate and gain power soon. I don’t know how, but a beggar in Darkwater Crossing told me he was planning to do something very familiar to Nords and historians. “

Vrael sighed and stood up, looking around the area before replying back “ And if I wanted to find my brother in blood, where might I look?”

Serana gave a smile and grabbed the sack filled with the newly carved meat and walked next to Vrael, rubbing up against him “ I heard he’s currently in Solitude, paying a visit to High King Jaric.”

Vrael looked at her with a brief moment of surprise on his face, gone the next instance “ Jaric heh? So they finally elected him. Took them damn long enough. Thought Esbern might outlive the whole thing.”

The pair began walking south in the woods, in silence that was shortly broken by Serana “ So I take this means we’re going public again?”

Vrael sighed and looked at her “ You never like silent walks do you?”

Another sigh and then “ Aye, I think it’s time I made my respects anyways to Skyrim’s new High King.”

Cracked Tusk Keep
Later That Day


As the destiny bound couple arrived at the keep, one might notice the significant changes made to it in the past decade or so since when Vrael first stumbled upon it. He had cleared it of bandits almost ten years ago and ever since then, had discreetly funneled his own money into it’s repair and addition of some facilities. The wooden tower was replaced with two stone ones on either end of the front wall and the stone walls were completely repaired. Inside the grounds, it was magically maintained thanks to a nifty spell Vrael had learned during his time in High Rock. Inside the actual keep was the living space he had been mainly based out of for the past two years, and filled to the brim with all of the armors, weapons and items he had collected during his travels.

Today, however, it was a special trip into the keep. He walked past the typical armor stands and his bedroom and entered the dining room. While Serana watched with glee at what was soon to be revealed, he hit a button hidden underneath the table and the wall in front of them shifted and a door sized panel moved back, to reveal a hallway. Vrael traveled down the hallway until he reached a massive door with no markings or holes, except two slabs. Vrael placed both of his hands onto the slabs and whispered a shout and the door shook and dust and dirt fell to the ground as it moved for the first time in six years and revealed it’s treasures, Vrael’s hidden vault where his most precious items were kept.

On the armor stand center stage stood his Wolf armor, given to him when he first joined the Companions and later improved, reforged and enchanted to suit his needs. Behind the mannequin was a red wall trophy stand, holding his sword, Dawnbreaker, and his Blades shield. He grabbed both and laid them on a table and quickly peeled off his leather armor and set it on the floor underneath the table. He pulled the Wolf armor off of the mannequin and donned it, while also strapped Dawnbreaker and it’s sheath around his waist. He then tapped a hidden button on the inside of the now bare mannequin’s leg and a false panel on the wall behind it opened up, revealing a red velvet holder with several highly treasured weapons, such as his other sword, Byrn, a Daedric sword of great power and in dead center, Wuuthrad. He grabbed it and it’s attached leather belt and strung it across his back. He then grabbed a white wolf cloak with hood off of a endtable and donned it, also throwing one at Serana, who looked slightly fakingly downtrodden “ I thought you said you were going public. “

As they walked out of the vault and Vrael sealed it up again, Vrael looked at her and grinned “ Aye, I just never said how.”

He then handed her a piece of paper in his left hand “ Take a horse from the stables and send word to each of the people on this list to go to come here, just outside of the gate. Then meet me outside of the Blue Palace in five days, understood?”

Serana took the list, looked it over quickly, nodded and then slipped away. Vrael followed her out the courtyard, mounting his chestnut brown draft horse and slipping out of the fort’s gate, turning right into the road to Rorikstead, while Serana went right, to Falkreath and Helgen.


Sun’s Dawn 24, 4E210
Blue Palace’s Courtyard
Vrael

Vrael slowly attempted to navigate his way up the road to the entrance of the Blue Palace, which he originally thought would be extremely easy, however he had not accounted for the hundreds of denziens crowding the streets as thick as meat flea’s on a exposed steak in the daylight.

Several of them carried banners of a foreign symbol to Vrael, a dragon’s head belching out fire on a sea of blue background. They also were shouting something but Vrael didn’t have the inclination to attempt to decipher the audible chants to the horrendous screams and shouts of the mob. After several brush by’s and knock overs of other people, he eventually made his way to the gate of the Palace, where the guards were so occupied with the mob, they paid him no heed and he was soon in the courtyard. Within seconds he sensed a presence next to hm and he spoke out, guessing as he usually did when he felt someone walking with him. “ I take it you were successful Serana?”

The white cloaked figure gave a grin, a unnoticeable one from underneath her hood and replied “ Aye, I did. Seems much more then you were in navigating this crowd.”

Vrael chuckled “ I didn’t think audiences with the High King were so hard to get.”

A grim look overtook Serana and she returned to her usual steel hardened self. “ It isn’t for him per say. Alain Dupree challenged the High King to one on one combat.”

As soon as she got the word out, Vrael drove her into a secluded corridor wall with his arm, and after making sure no one was watching or listening, hissed at her “ Are you sure?”

“ Positive. These are all of his supporters, the common folk from all around Skyrim and the Empire.”

Vrael began pacing slightly, his hand reaching into his hood and stroking his gray streaked beard, daring not to touch his hair lest the hood fall back and his identity be discovered. Not clue on how this mob would react to that. He then deceased his pacing and grabbed Serana and moved rapidly to the Palace door “ I have to stop him. I am not allowing some hypocondriac plunge this Empire into another civil war.”

“ Even if the people want it? “

Vrael snorted, a touch of rarely seen arrogance coming off of him “ These people don’t know what they want for dinner, let alone a government.”

When they reached the door, they quietly slipped inside and the lack of people downstairs sent alerts to Vrael that the duel had already started or was about to. He quickly ordered Serana to keep watch by the door and he then sprinted to the grand staircase and up to the throne area, where he found a throng of court officials, citizens, guards and others forming a circle around two men. One was younger, Breton from the looks, clad in the blackest of ebony armor, his helmet removed and on the floor next to his feet. Across from him, near the throne was a younger boy, no older then seventeen from Vrael’s guesses. The Jagged Crown was adorned atop his head and a steel sword was nervously held in his hand. The match hadn’t even started and Vrael could tell Jaric would be cut to pieces within seconds. While he attempted to move through the crowd to get a better position he began to hear what Alain was shouting at the High King.

“ Apologies Your Majesty about the mud I brought in. But then again, with the company you’ve kept you should be used to it.”

Jaric turned red faced and continued to sway with his sword, while Alain kept pouring the salt onto the wound.

“ What, prophecy got your tongue? Getting another one coming on? It say anything about any precious savior to swoop in here to save this pathetic excuse of a government.”

“ You’ve ignored the people long enough. It’s time a true champion of the people ruled them.”

By the time Alain finished his last taunt, Joric was obviously highly anxious and very nervous. However it wasn’t until Vrael cut to the front of the circle that he fully realized the situation. Alain had been using a fear spell this whole time. The taunts were simply a distraction so no one would notice it. A quick check to Alain’s right hand confirmed his, has it was glowing red with the tell tale sign of a fear Alteration spell. Vrael quickly deduced that this must mean Alain himself isn’t the best warrior and then just seconds before the situation exploded, he found his solution. And just in time.

About a minute after the last taunt, with the biggest sneering smile you would ever see on his face, Alain gathered the air into his lungs and gave light Shout, sending Jaric backwards into the throne. He stumbled to get up, but the fear spell had him on edge and he was slow. Alain quickly approached him and just as his sword came down to finish off the teenager King, a loud clang rung out.


The room was silent, and Jaric and Alain stared on in complete utter shock. Alain’s ebony blade had been stopped a foot by Jaric’s head by the sword with a glowing pommel, wielded by a man in a white cloak, none other then Vrael but that was unknown to anyone. Alain withdrew his sword and quickly backed up, and Vrael stepped into the ring, knowing there was no way back now. Alain was obviousy enraged, the look of shock now converted to one of anger. As he bellowed, the spit and red colored face added a nice dramatic touch “ Who dares break the sacred Nord tradition of this duel? Who are you to break this generations long tradition?”

Vrael simply stared on at Alain in utter silence, his eyes the only thing visible from under his hood, while the rest of the room stood completely mesmerized. Alain grew enraged and bellowed again “ Answer me!! WHO ARE YOU?!”

When Vrael returned silence again, Alain charged, his sword raised high to come striking down. Vrael easily side stepped and slashed his sword sideways at Alain’s back, sending the man stumbling forward. Alain quickly turned around, lashing out with his sword but to no avail as Vrael was now back at the other end of the crowd. Alain picked himself up and then once more tried again with the taunting and fear spell “ Fine, silence shall suit you as well as it does now and as well as it does in the death I shall serve you for this breach!”

Vrael however, easily brushed off the spell’s feeble attempts with his own wards and with his unused left hand , it rose from under his cloak and cast a simple push spell sending Alain back a few feet and disrupting his spell. And now, it was offense time. “ It’s you who should fear me, Alain Dupree of Daggerfall. “

Vrael took two steps forward towards the scared witless con artist and slashed his sword sideways, which was feebly parried and then he cut diagonally downwards, cutting Alain’s left leg and forcing him onto his knee’s. Vrael then spun him towards Joric who was now sitting on the dais of the throne and spoke out again “ Now bow before your King. “

Alain let out a whimper and then Vrael delivered a sharp below with the end of his sword to the back of his head. Alain fell, unconscious. A scuffle was heard within the crowd and a man came charging sloppily at Vrael. He sidestepped and plunged his sword deep into the man’s chest, letting him fall to the ground dead. After a few more moments he then grabbed Joric by the arm and placed him on the throne and when he went to leave, he realized it would be somewhat impossible.

So there he stood, in the center of the circle, the dead man and Alain Dupree at his feet, Dawnbreaker extended downwards in his right hand. After what seems like years of silence, one of Dupree’s supporters in the circle spoke out. “ Who are you stranger? Hmm? Who are you, to think you have the authority to break tradition.”

Vrael chuckled, a chuckle that filled the palace and he brushed back his hood, let it fall down to the back, revealing his grey flecked brown hair. “ Who am I? Who am I to dare?”


Vrael then looked up at the man, his blue eyes shining in the glory, like they did not to many years ago, holding the Bosmer in a fixed position like magic almost, the wolfish grin on Vrael’s face even more bemusing. Vrael shrugged off his cloak and let it hit the floor, revealing his armor and Wuuthrad, which caused several gasps. “ I am the Cleanser of Potema, the Dragon Legate, Shatterer of Wall and Gates, Restorer of the Dragonguard, the Hero of Whiterun, the Conqueror of Windhelm, Rightful Jarl of Falkreath, Thane of Skyrim, Champion of Meridia and Skryim, Savior of the Empire.”

He let a pause endure, deciding to play Alain’s own game for a few moments. “ I am Vrael, the Dovahkin, the Dragonborn. And I’m the only reason you’re still around to practice your traditions, so I have plenty good of authority to do so.”

Stunned looks and glares were exchanged and a small cry of “Imposter!” rang out, with caused Vrael to shout a terrible Shout, Unrelenting Force, undoing the crowd of people in front of him.

And then, a clap. And a second clap and then some cheers, followed by thunderous applause which filled the entire Palace until Falk Firebeard, the High King’s Steward, quieted them down, and in the most reverent face, bowed before Vrael “ All Hail Vrael, the Hero of Skyrim!”

Within half an hour, the Blades and Palace Guards had cleared the Palace and it’s courtyard of Alain’s supporters, as well as Alain himself, who was dumped in the swamps south of the city. After the court was cleared, the throne room was cleared until there was just four people, Jaric, Serana, Falk and Rikke, who walked in just as the other four were sitting around a long dining table. Upon seeing Vrael, they both greeted each other and exchanged a hug. “ It’s been so long Vrael, seven years in a few weeks. You should have wrote!”

Vrael grinend “ Yes well, you know how much I love dramatic entrances. Besides I got your and Tullius’s letter, wanted to surprise you. “

Jaric gestured for Rikke to sit down and join them and once she did, a few bottles of Black-Briar mead was passed around, jovial noises coming from the room, until Vrael, after finishing his third bottle of mead, looked at Jaric with the most serious face in the room. “ So, my King, how much trouble did I just cause?”

Jaric nervously chuckled and downed another gulp of Colovian brandy. “ I thank you for saving my life Vrael. Not to discredit the Blades, but I don’t think they could have reached me in time.”

“ That said, I, nay, we’re glad you showed up. This Alain Dupree figure has been stirring up trouble for nearly a year now. We think he’s behind the resurgence of the Forsworn in Falkreath and more and more Thalmor patrols are being found slaughtered. Of course, the Dominion blames the Blades or the Legion, but we all know Alain is behind it.”

“ Does he have any official organization or guild?”

“ Nay, though a few have risen up, all swiftly put down for infractions. Some say he was also behind the Falmer Incursion.”

“ Falmer Incursion?”

“ Right sorry, forgot you’ve been off the grid for two years. About a year and a half ago, hordes of Falmer just started pouring onto the surface just a few miles due east of Dawnstar. Within minutes, they were at the city’s walls. Climbed right over them, took the Legion three days to drive them out and there have been sightings all along the Pale since then. Fort Kastav was even attacked by a small band of them. But to make matters worse, we think this is all a distraction.”

“ Distraction for what? And who’s we?”

Jaric cast a glance at Rikke who began playing with her mug and spoke up to answer since Jaric deferred to her. “ We think all these ...incidents are meant to distract our focus and strength from something else. Something like a Second Great War with the Dominion. And we meaning myself, General Tullius who is now in command of the Legions in Hammerfell, Jaric here, as well as the Elder Council, Emperor and the heads of all the other provinces. Hence why, when Alain popped up, we poured all of our time into finding you. We need someone we can rally the people around, to counter Alain. His defeat here today will win us points, but he’ll shrug off and call you dishonored.”

Vrael chuckled, causing the others to look uncomfortable. “ What? Come on, politically speaking, the Nords should be in my pocket. I killed Alduin and I wield Wuuthrad.”

“Aye, but Nords aren’t the sole majority anymore. Bretons and Dunmer are also heavy here, and Wuuthrad is an elf-killer and you not being a native Breton makes you lose points on both points. “

Vrael opened his mouth, but the better part of him kept them back and instead, he shook his head. “ This is why I hated politics.”

Rikke grinned and then slapped a scroll onto the table, bound in red wax with the Emperor’s seal. “ Open it.” She commanded of Vrael.

Vrael set his mead down and then broke the deal and opened it. His eyes were amazed when he read it. It was an Imperial Commission instating him as the Imperial Liaison between the Blades and the Emperor.

He stared at Rikke “ For a second, I thought this was for the Legion, which I would have turned down. And I might turn this down too. Now that I’m back, I have roles to fulfill. Namely, I’m still Harbinger of the Companions, unless they replaced me?”

Jaric shook his head “ No, thanks to Balgruuf. He convinced the Circle to run the Companions in your hiatus, so I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you back.”

A knock was heard and a courier entered the room. He cast a look at Vrael and then handed a letter to Jaric and whispered in his hear for a minute or two and then left, leaving Jaric with a worried look on his face, one he turned to Vrael “ I’m sorry to break up this happy meeting, but I believe I just got business you need to attend too. I just got word that Dupree supporters executed Lori in Falkreath and have taken over. As you are the rightful Jarl and Lori was merely a Regent, as your High King, I demand you return and deal with your rebellious Hold. You can take the small contingent of Blades stationed here, they aren’t attached to me as bodyguards, so don’t worry.“

Vrael, chuckled and then gathered his belongings. “ I knew this was going to happen.”

He then turned to address the puzzled looks on Jaric and Rikke’s faces “ I knew Alain would retaliate, and this is the quickest and easiest way. Hence, why I already had a few of my trusted contacts rounded up to meet me at Falkreath. I’ll send word when the situation is under control.”


Outside of Falkreath’s Main Gate
The Next Day

Vrael was crouched low to the ground, his bow drawn and his quiver full of freshly made ebony arrows. His heavy Blades armor made him sink into the ground slightly, a feeling he hated, so he attempted to avoid moving so much. Behind him, was a force of about fifteen Blades as well as his old companies of Lydia, now a Captain in the Legion, Benor, the head of a Blades outpost, and Falidur, still chopping wood in Riverwood.

As Vrael completed his scouting he returned to the group of his old friends that were all sitting behind a large rock, a few yards ahead of where the rest of their force was hidden. He looked over at Falidur, who had set up ontop of a granite rock, his green cloak wrapped around his leather armor and his bow already notched and a willing arrow aimed at the guard defending the gate. Lydia  was stretched out on the ground with the rest of the Blade soldiers, her ivory colored Legionnaire armor clashing with that of the men’s armor he was tasked with leading, Benor crouched right beside her.


After a re-assuring look over the contingency gathered for him, he looked over at Falidur and made a call of a local bird, causing the wood elf to look over in Vrael’s direction. Once he had his attention, Vrael gave the archer a thumbs up and Falidur nodded and fixed his attention back at the gate guard. He took in a deep breath and then just before he left it out, he released the bowstring, the steel arrow flying across the road and slamming into the guard’s left breast, sending him right into the fence on the wall and then onto the floor. As soon as he had seen the guard go down, Vrael made a move forward motion with his hands and the Blades soldiers and his comrades stood up and began sprinting for the gate. When they were half way to the town gate, two guards appeared on the wall and began firing at the charging soldiers, their arrows bouncing off of the cobblestone road. Two Blades soldiers produced crossbows that had been hanging on their sides and let loose two bolts each, taking down the two harassing guards. Fortunately for Vrael, Falkreath had never upgraded to completely thick stone walls, so a simple slam from the Blades contingent forced the gate open.

As soon as the men burst through the gate, two of them took arrows to the chest, sending them to the floor. It was then revealed to Vrael the line of about seven men, five archers and two macemen, that were lined up about fifty yards from the gate, just outside the Jarl’s Longhouse. Vrael screamed out for shields to go hope, but the men were trained well enough to know to do it before hand, their shields taking in a storm of arrows. Vrael managed to drive them to the two story general goods store that was the first building on the right after the gate. As soon as they were behind cover, Benor took four men and moved up onto the top of the wall, and sheathed their swords and switched to the crossbows that dangled from their sides. They immediately took down three of Dupree’s guards, the other two bolts missing. The loss of their three comrades caused the remaining guards to switch to their melee weapons and charge, an additional two more guards coming from the Longhouse to join them. Vrael and the other Blades pulled out from behind cover and charged right towards the approaching guards, katana’s brandished and shields raised. Another volley from Benor’s men took down two more guards. Within two minutes, the rest of Dupree’s men had been dispatched.

Vrael began searching the corpses, when he found one who was clothed in all black leather armor like the rest but he unlike the rest had three dragon claws emblazoned on his left pauldron. His curiosity peaked, he began searching the man’s pockets, finding two keys that from a memory recollection of his own, he recognized as the key to the main gate and the town prison. He took the two keys and put them into his pocket and turned around, to find the Captain of the Guard, a Imperial named Marcus Turniccus. The man appeared worn, his face bearing a light beard that was unusual for a member of the guard, his armor tattered and frayed and his sword missing.  Vrael grinned and clasped the man by both arms “ Marcus, it is good to see you.”

Marcus gave a weak smile in return “ And even better to see you in these times my Jarl.”

Vrael let go of the man and fished the two keys he had recently collected and handed them over to Marcus “ I think you’ll find these handy objects. Now, do tell me, what happened.”


Marcus and him walked over to the front porch of the blacksmith and sat down on it, Vrael briefly glancing at the Blades soldiers that were removing the bodies from the street and then listened to Marcus’s story.  “ Happened early in the morning today, right around the turn of day. I had Marion and Germund on watch patrolling the walls. Marion was down below on the ground with the gate, Germund up top on the wall. I was walking down to check in with him and they both were as pale as sheets, said they spotted something black and big moving in the tree’s. I figured it was a bear, and headed over to the new wall section we had put up a couple years ago that rings around near the Chapel, to warn my two guards there. By the time I get over there, I see them helping these black clad bandits over the walls. The Priest at the Chapel threw a fireball at them and killed the damn traitors, however an arrow soon found his neck. I tried to rally the men, but all the Bretons suddenly turned on me and sided with Dupree. We managed to kill some, but were eventually over-run. I managed to escape out the back gate, the others are locked up in the prison.” 	Marcus sighed and then shuffled his feet around in the dirt, making random movements to try and take away from the embarrassment of what had happened to him and his men and also the loss they had endured, both in the count of men but also in the loyalty that had been shattered by those that had betrayed them.