Chain 084: Skyrim

Chain 084: Skyrim
Location: Orsinium
Age: 28
Identity: Drop-In, Nord
Drawbacks: [+200] Black Sacrement
[Free]      Standing Stone: The Mage
[Free]      Battle Cry
[100/1200]  Attributes: Health, Magicka
[200/1200]  Training
[350/1200]  Progress
[950/1200]  Thu'um
[1200/1200] Hail Companion: Demona, Conspiracy

Crossing into Skyrim in the most roundabout way that we could was probably not a good idea. However, it WAS hilarious for a bit until Demona lost her patience.

>"Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
"... Caw?"
>"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy..."
. . .
>"Anyone else feel like running?" "Wait, you there." "Forget the list, that Nord goes to the blocks."
"Caw."
>"Is that... a bird on his shoulder? Captain?" "That, too."
"Caw-haha!"
>"It's ill fortune to kill a raven..." "Then it should fly away!" "Will you Imperial dogs get on with it?!"
"Caw! Caw!"
>"For the love of- get that bird off the block!" "But I thought-" "Quiet! Did you hear that?"
"Hold it. This is entirely too stupid."
>"WHAT IN OBLIVION-" "THE BIRD- IS SHE-"
"Look up. Right now. You see that?"
>"The Raven Queen!" "What-?" "Was that a dragon?!"
"Stop simpering, you fools, and prepare for battle."
>"Kyaah!" "General Tullius!" "Ulfric is trying to escape-!"
"You're not paying attention, you idiots! The dragon-"
>"FUS-"

And then Helgen burned, while Demona fought Alduin and gave him a scar to remember her by, even if she didn't go all-out due to concerns over collateral damage. There were next to no casualties, though, considering the Conspiracy evacuated the town as it burned. People tend to listen when birds talk, while a figure of legend fights another. I intercepted the Dragonborn while he was running out of Helgen and toward Riverwood, wished him luck, and gave him a gun. "Shoot Todd Howard if you see him," I told him. Much to his confusion.

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak returned to Windhelm to resume his role in the civil war, but he did not return alone. It would seem that he had a son who had tried to follow in his father's footsteps and apprentice to the Greybeards to also learn the thu'um and succeed where his father failed, but word of the return of the dragon reached him and he realized his path lied elsewhere - he fortuitously returned to Windhelm at very nearly the same time that Ulfric had. He was learning at his father's side, and had been reinstated as his heir. After all, an intended Greybeard could not inherit a throne. Not coincidentally, the Stormcloaks' survival rates in battle against the Thalmor shot up drastically; it seemed Crux Ulfricson preferred to lead from the front, and had a particular talent for sniffing out Thalmor agents.

Manipulating one's age to appear younger is handy, but not nearly as handy as memory charms, and I gave 'em out like candy. Same with legilimency on the Thalmor, and as a result, the Dragonborn and I crossed paths again more than once. I ended up helping him a bit with the Dawnguard, met him once or twice while studying a word wall that he'd earlier killed a dragon at, not to mention when I ran into him at the Aetherium Forge that he'd coincidentally found a key to. (After briefly examining his own, I gave him my aetherial crest. Duplication charms are delightful.) Even ran into him on Solstheim, briefly, while negotiating with House Redoran in regard to their needs for importing food.

I kept giving him guns every time I met with him, and of course the recipes to make ever-better bullets for them with alchemical ingredients. Turns out dragons didn't evolve to resist .50 caliber white phosphorous rounds. Who knew?

In any event, as the civil war grew to a greater height and the dragon attacks escalated... one morning, the throne room was empty; Ulfric's attendants found him dead and cold in bed. By all indications, the poor man had simply died in his sleep of a heart attack. It was quite tragic that  As being the Jarl is a hereditary position, of course, his son was thrust into the spotlight unexpectedly. Seizing on the opportunity, the other Jarls called for a moot, and while Ulfric had been refusing them, I happily attended, albeit in armor with the Jarl's cloak serving as a cape of sorts. I arrived with little fanfare but with the Jagged Crown, which I set in the middle of the table, much to the shock and annoyance of several of those in attendance, General Tullius leaning heavily toward the latter.

"As of three days ago, I was made Jarl of Windhelm," I began. "Yesterday I buried my father, but as of two days ago, the Stormcloaks were ordered to withdraw and stand down, and aside from self-defense were authorized to attack no Imperial soldiers on the march back to Windhelm." Tullius butted in with, "It's about time someone saw some sense," but I simply kept talking. "While they are in Windhelm, they will be retrained in the use of a new type of weapon that I have invented. Some of you may have heard of it - the firearm that the Dragonborn has been using. He has been my proof that it is more useful than any bow, and can destroy any living target. After all, it's being used to kill dragons. I have determined a way to make them easily reproduced, though the process requires a well-trained smith-" Tullius looked enraged and sputtered, but I continued before I could be interrupted, "-and I intend to share with the Imperial Legion and ONLY the Imperial Legion their construction, because these should not be out there for any fool to use. If they want to fling around destruction, they can learn to use a bow or magic. My father's former stormcloaks, once everything settles, will serve to help train them in their use."

Many of the Jarls were mumbling to each other, either decrying the weapons or speaking of their potential usefulness, but Jarl Elisif was the first to speak up. "This sounds remarkably promising, but a strange thing to say at the start. What, praytell, is the catch."

I inclined my head to her. "It is necessary that I become High King." Of course, the rest of the table erupted in a clamor - only General Tullius and Jarl Elisif were silent with me. Once they calmed down, I expounded, "I do not do it out of desire for personal power, gods know I already have that in spades, but I would much rather live a quiet life. Unfortunately, that is not an option. My father would have said that he had a claim to it. Personally, I feel that any use of the thu'um in such a contest is utterly dishonorable, and he will never see Solstheim. Whether or not it's true, however... it's what people believe, and there are a very narrow set of decisions available to us all that will quell such concerns."

"You could just surrender, you know," commented Siddgeir, the Jarl of Falkreath. "You've already told your men to stop fighting."

I nodded at him, watching Tullius out of the corner of my eye, but the general was not a fool. He was staying silent, and considering what I said. I replied, "Oh, I could. But I've committed no crimes against Skyrim nor her people. The Thalmor... maybe. But more to the point: if we do not seal the civil breach, we can expect another war not long down the line. My father may have been an idiot, but he is not around for us to clean up his mess, so the duty falls to me, because otherwise Skyrim will tear itself apart."

General Tullius snorted. "Fancy words for someone who wants to seize power."

But I merely smiled at him. "Far from it. We've already got the Forsworn pillaging in the Reach. They've had a handful raiding across the borders in Whiterun and Falkreath- oh, don't look at me like that, Siddgeir, you've surely heard the rumors. Their leader was imprisoned, and they never stopped. I'll be frank. If I simply capitulate, I'll be seen as a usurper and unworthy of my father's mantle, and the Stormcloaks will most likely turn to banditry as the Forsworn have."

"With your... fire arms."

I had to bite back a laugh. "Hell no! There's a reason I'm not teaching any smiths outside the Legion how to make those, and I'm not training anyone but the Dragonborn until the dust settles. But you see the problem that I've inherited. While the lovely Jarl Elisif has the strongest claim to the crown, if I lose, then the war becomes civil discord and never ends. Wearing it myself means that I legitimize my father's legacy, but there's no way for the Empire to save face and the Thalmor can exploit the weaknesses and try to drive things further apart, even if I fall into line immediately. To say nothing of the dragons, of course."

Balgruuf the Greater was the first to speak. "Between a rock and a hard place. I can sympathize." This elicited chuckles around the table; Whiterun was well known as having remained neutral. "So what you need is a way to appease both sides. This is why you wanted to give your weapons to the Empire's army?"

"Part of it," I ceded. "But to be terribly honest... you all saw how things went during the Great War. Ulfric be damned, if we hadn't accepted the terms they dictated, they would have ground us into paste. It would have taken longer, certainly, but can any of you say that they wouldn't have cheerfully wiped out every last man if they could, be they Nord, Breton, Redguard, or Imperial? Would it surprise any of you that they've done everything they can to fan the flames of discontent in Skyrim? General Tullius, you saw it all, and you know how they think militarily. How long do you think we have until they manufacture an excuse to open hostilities again? Ten years? Twenty?"

"Under twenty," he answered, shaking his head. "That's why we can't afford this conflict in the first place."

Elisif spoke, after a period of silence. "And the solution is a political marriage."

I nodded to her. Sharp woman. She saw it and didn't have to be led into it. "The Jagged Crown is the key to this all. Merging the old with the new, like iron gone through the forge coming out steel. The Stormcloaks are already well-trained, and rather than retiring, can deal with certain problems that local guards simply aren't equipped for. Things such as the Forsworn, issues like Falmer kidnappings, bandit encampments, and so on. More of a... policing force, as opposed to a military. And before you ask, no, I most certainly do not intend to use them as a personal army or to keep anyone in line, they answer to the local Jarl of the province they are in. Of course, I had a LOT of time to think while I was with the Greybeards, and I intend to follow in the Last Septim's footsteps with seeing how many of my ideas I can make into a reality."

General Tullius snorted again. Some of the Jarls looked like they'd barely considered the possibility, while others seemed at least somewhat calmed by it. Elisif was the one to speak again, however. "I think we will need to negotiate in great detail... but your ideas may have merit."

The moot dragged on for two solid weeks, but at the end of it, I walked out with the Jagged Crown atop my head, to the sight of an irate Dragonborn waiting for me. "I know, I know, I'm sorry," I told him. "Nobody ever considered the repercussions of a civil war, or how screwed up it could be. Tell you what, though, I'll make it up to you. No more guns right now, but let me know when you're going after Alduin and I'll arrange for some backup. What do you say?"

The Dragonborn grunted and turned away.

Later, when he fought Alduin, the Raven Queen and her Flock fought at his side. A dragon may be a dangerous creature, but a thousand ravens circling overhead throwing down spells will certainly even the score. Especially when they don't fight like fools like most of the Dragonborn's companions, but instead using actual intelligence.

Granted, it took a couple of months' time for everyone to get used to the idea in the wake of the civil war, but Elisif and I were wedded. Strictly political marriage, of course, for she still loved her late husband, but she did not hold onto her place as Jarl without knowledge of the political process. Much of the time after that was spent retraining the Stormcloaks, and they served well in their capacity to pacify the Forsworn... and to help root out corruption. After all, I still traveled about Skyrim and her provinces, simply while staying incognito. One day, I met a lady who openly admitted to bribing guards.

Unfortunately... I am the High King of Skyrim.