Yes, I was quite an inexperienced lad. I never took the training, and I left Skyrim the first moment I was old enough and just barely qualified. I wanted to help out around there; there was always something to for an adventurer like myself. But I just couldn’t indulge myself into that life. The thought of Pact soldiers risking their lives in the chaotic, Daedra-filled warfield that Cyrodiil now was, it drove me insane. I had to go with them at the first moment I could; make a contribution to the efforts and get the Skald King on his well deserved throne.
There was a problem though: I was a berserker. The taste of blood and power is always too strong to resist for me. I wanted to kill the highest up in the ranks of the Aldmeri and the Covenant. But how was I to do that? I had no knowledge of battle strategy, and they’re no fools. There’s a reason they’re where they are and I was where I was.
If I wanted to ever kill them, I would have to train on the rookie jobs: scouting. I despised this thought, as it would be impossible to complete without stealth. No killing, no blood, no terror. Just sneaking and writing. I reluctantly took the paper off of the bulletin and headed for Castle Alessia.
Alessia, at the moment was controlled by the Aldmeri Dominion. They probably came to worse terms to the Pact than the Covenant, and would burn the first sight of red. If I were to succeed, only the bushes could harbor me. As far as I knew, things were quiet there. Most of the attacks have been on the expanding Pact forts, far from Alessia. As bad as that could be for us, I only cared for me at the time. Just as long as they didn’t all die before I earn my way to the highest ranks.
I was near Alessia, already starting to get low in case of any archers with the most keen of vision such as the Khajiit. It seemed quiet enough; no signs of a conflict that could potentially give me away. I moved in on the farmhouse, which I quickly moved away from. I could have sworn that Bosmer saw me. I hurried in a manner that was too loud for my own good to the castle. I wasn’t close enough to see what they might be plotting, or to track the routes they get their supplies from. I’d have to get to the wall.
I scanned the outskirts of the castle. There was one bridge onto the small mass of land that was the castle, which was surrounded by a small river that couldn’t have been half bad to swim across. I decided the best point of entry was through the river, specifically in a location far from the bridge, where there would surely be archer lookouts waiting for anything shoot.
As I made my way a good ways away from the bridge, I noticed an eerie quietness to the place. I scarcely even saw any archers, but when I did, they seemed a bit on edge. Not to mention there was a stillness to the water that drove me insane. The water had to have something in, right?
When I had decided I’d reached a safe location, I stepped into the river, and only then did I notice it. Blood. Lots of it. Then the stillness of the water became a hurried shake. I saw a swarm of black heading toward me at an unsafe pace. I darted back to the shore, fast as possible. They got closer, but I still couldn’t tell what they were.
At last I had reached shore when I felt a sharp pain all around my foot. I grunted through my teeth and looked back at my attacker. Slaughterfish. If the swarm was all slaughterfish, I would get yanked in and eaten alive before I knew they were there. I kicked the horrid creature off of my ankle just in time for the swarm to arrive. I sprinted up the hill, and a few slaughterfish jumped for me, taking bites into my flesh as I attempted to escape the hell-hole.
I finally reached the top of the hill and out of range of the damned beasts. One second later in my escape I’d be in more pieces than I could count. I concluded the war and the Daedra allowing all of Cyrodiil to fall into disrepair must have led to an infestation of slaughterfish in the entire system of water. I saw now the bridge could be the only way into the castle. Quitting then wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but I was eager to become an Ebonheart legend. I wouldn’t let a mere scouting mission stand in my way.
I traveled to the bridge where I hoped there would be no archers just as the rest of the castle had been I saw none from a distance, but I climbed a small hill for a better view, just to be certain. It was much worse than that.
On the bridge there were all different colors of wool, worn all different types of ways. Not only was the Ebonheart Pact invading, the Covenant seemed to have the same idea. It was a loud, bloody, full-fledged battle between what seemed as if every single person fighting in the war. And I wasn’t in it.
Logic took over however. I was too inexperienced. Popping in would be a death sentence. I focused on the task at hand, but could see no way in. Bridge filled with murderous soldiers and water filled with murderous fish, I saw no where to go. The mission was impossible.
But I was no coward. While I didn’t have a death wish I wasn’t walking away. I decided that my best chance was slim: sneaking on the side of the bridge. This would require me to sidestep on the thin ledge to reach the other end, write a quick report, and get the hell out. I was up for anything at this point. I would become a war hero.
I snuck up to the bridge, hearing the battle get increasingly louder. By the time I was there, there was already blood on me, and it wasn’t mine. I stepped onto the ledge and slowly climbed across. I looked into the red waters and remembered what could happen if I slipped. I looked away and kept going.
When I got there, I could see the inside of the castle through a small, forgotten hole in the wall. They had a surplus of equipment surrounding the main building. I saw through it, and discovered the cause of the battle. An Elder Scroll.
There was no time for excitement. I jotted notes I knew the Pact wouldn’t need, but I had to get awarded for my troubles. I closed up my pad and started heading out when I spotted something: a group of assassins clad in Daggerfall cloaks. I could only see for a second who exactly one of them was: the High King of the Covenant.
This was my chance. I couldn’t get any luckier. I pulled out my warhammer. One successful strike to the head, and I would be the greatest legend in the Pact. I may die, but only Sovngarde could await after such a feat. He was under me now, and I would most certainly die whether I hit him or not. But I was ready.
I took the leap of faith. My warhammer was above my head now, ready to swing down onto his head. But he then he heard my cries. Only then did I notice them. He strafed slightly to the left, and the hammer struck the damp mud below.
I was winded from the jump. I saw the High Kings face above me. He smirked, and then spit into my face. He said something to me that I did not hear, and motioned for the others. They approached and he jumped up the wall and disappeared into the castle.
Pain was all I could feel. I was beaten to a sad, disappointing pulp. They stripped me of my armor, and one suggested I be hung my my legs completely naked in the middle of the Daggerfall headquarters. The rest thought differently, and nominated one to do the honors. He pulled out a dagger and held it high above my neck.
“Now is when the dagger falls.”
I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable. Instead were yells. I opened my eyes quickly and saw the assassins in a hurry, grabbing for their bows. An arrow went straight to one’s head. I grabbed the dagger and shanked another in the stomach. Another arrow flew, barely past me and into the heart of another assassin. I got up and looked for the source of the arrows and saw him. The bosmer must have seen me at the farmhouse. He followed me, an now saved me. He nodded to me, and I nodded back. Than he disappeared over the hill.
I ran away from the scene where I almost died. I noticed another assassin limping away, an arrow in his knee. I decided I’d let him go. He could pass tales of the arrow that ended his adventures to generations to come, and he’d know who was there.
I went back to Skyrim, and trained. I spent years becoming the strongest war tactician on Nirn. I became ready for what real war felt like. And there wasn’t a day I didn’t think about that bosmer that both saved and spared my life.
#amost2
This story is based off of a real situation I found myself in on ESO, where I was so excited to fight in Cyrodiil I went at my first chance at level 10 and did a scouting mission on Castle Alessia, finding half the entire server fighting on the bridge, and I died on several attempts trying to get over there. I'm not even sure I ever did finish it. Of course, the bits on the Bosmer and the assassins with the High King were completely made up, but as for the rest, this was an actual event that inspired me to write my first story on this blog. Thanks to anyone who reads this and supports it, it really means a lot to me!
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