Balgruuf the Lesser's Journal: Gray-mane or Battle-born?

• Posted by Piper Jo January 21, 2012 - 765 views

   

  The door to the house of Clan Battle-born was locked when I got there.  In this city, locking one’s door during the day is, by itself, practically an admission of guilt.  The lock was minimal, however—little more than a do-not-disturb sign, so I squeezed the handle and forced the latch and let myself in.  Idolaf Battle-born was sitting inside by the hearth.  “You shouldn’t be in here,” he said, bluntly.

  “Idolaf, it’s me, Balgruuf,” I said. “I came to find the truth behind that nonsense Fralia Gray-mane was spouting in the market.”

  He eyed me suspiciously.  “Whose side do you take, Balgruuf?”

  I still wore my Stormcloak armor, so I wondered if I could be misunderstanding his meaning.  It must have shown on my face, because he said, “No, no, that’s not what I mean.  Everyone knows where you stand on the war.  What I mean is… Gray-mane or Battle-born?” 

  I shivered as sympathy for Idolaf passed through me like a ghost from my childhood.  There had been a time when Idolaf, Thorald and myself had been inseparable. Then came the war.  Everyone began choosing sides. To Idolaf, it wasn’t about Stormcloaks versus Empire; his question was far more personal.  I wondered if he asked the same question of everyone he met.

  “Idolaf, we’ve always been friends,” I told him.  “Do you really think anything could stand between us?”  For just a moment, I believed my own words, and that must have sold it, because he visibly relaxed.

  “Of course,” he agreed.  “I apologize for even asking.  It’s just this damn war!  It changes people, Balgruuf, and make no mistake—the Gray-manes have changed.  What happened to Thorald was his own fault.  He brought it on himself, talking the way he did in public.”  He stood up and put a hand on my shoulder.  “I’ve got to go to the farm.  I’m truly glad you stopped by.  Help yourself to anything you like.”  He waved a hand at the table as he left the house.

  He hadn’t told me where to find Thorald, but he’d as much as admitted that he knew.  I took him at his word, and invited myself into his father’s office.   That’s where I found the letter from General Tullius.  I scanned it quickly, then tucked it into my coin purse and went back to Avulstein.

  Avulstein read the letter quickly, and a stormy expression spread across his face.  “They turned him over to the Thalmor.  That’s far lower than I thought even the Battle-borns could sink.  Well, I’ll not leave my brother in irons a moment longer than I have to.  I’ll get some friends together to rescue him.  Are you in?”

  “I’m in,” I said without hesitation.

  “Good. Meet us outside Northwatch Keep on the 22^nd.  We’ll slaughter any Thalmor that stand in our way.”

  I nodded and left his house.  The 22^nd—I calculated in my head.  That should be more than enough time to get to Windhelm, sign up with Ulfric, and return.  Perhaps Ulfric would even send us some help.  By that evening, I had left behind both my city and my childhood.  Whatever happens to the Battle-borns after this is their own fault.  They’ve brought it on themselves.