Balgruuf's Journal #9: No Way Out

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    “I never noticed before how much I hate this city,” I mused aloud, as Lydia and I walked through Windhelm to the Palace of the Kings.  Every time I have been to Windhelm, it has been frigid, gray and windy.  Snow falls constantly without ever seeming to cover up the dingy decay of the city.  The people are unfriendly and grim.  Growing up in Whiterun, I took for granted the chill but sunny days of spring and autumn, and the hot, muggy days of summer, when the thunderstorms would come through in late afternoon to refresh everything. The city is clean and the people are friendly and industrious.  I never truly appreciated it until now.

    Too soon, I stood before Jarl Ulfric, reporting my father’s words to him.  Had not both my lords ordered me to do so, I would not have gone.

    “So Jarl Balgruuf has finally made his choice,” Ulfric mused as he sat in his throne and stared at the junction where the wall met the ceiling.  “I respect him the more for having taken a stand, even this one. Well, the time has come.  Messengers will be sent immediately.  Galmar is already gathering his men for the assault.  Leave now, and you will just make it.”

    It was cold in that hall, but not so cold that a native Nord should have felt it.  Yet, I found myself shivering uncontrollably.  “My lord, I beg you to send me on some other mission.  Send me anywhere, to do anything, but don’t make me return to Whiterun.”

    Ulfric turned his gaze upon me.  It was as if he were just now truly noticing me for the first time.  He stepped down from his dais and lay his hand on my shoulder. “I understand.  You care about the city of your birth, and do not want to see it suffer.  This battle in particular,” he grimaced as though the thought made him ill, “looks to be long and drawn out, and believe me, there is nothing so bloody and hellish as a drawn out siege between two determined enemies.  Day after day, the bodies build up.  Those that don’t die of their wounds die slowly of infection, disease, hunger, thirst…”

    He looked at my pale, green countenance, and my uncontrolled shaking.

    “On the other hand, if this battle is won quickly, Whiterun and its people will survive and adapt relatively unscathed.  People who would have died or been crippled will go back to their daily lives as though nothing had happened.  You have it in your power to save your city, Balgruuf.”

    “What…” I choked on nothing and started again.  “What must I do?”

    “If you know of a way to open the drawbridge, this battle will be won in a single day, and it will be relatively bloodless.  Can you see it, Balgruuf?  The market will be functioning again within a week.  There will be plenty of stores for winter, and your father will be captured alive and then released to go where he will.”

    I glanced at Ulfric, but found it hard to meet his eyes.  I forced myself to stare directly at him.  “Do you promise this?”

    “Upon my honor,” he replied.  “Ill spoken though it be, I value nothing more than my honor, Balgruuf, and I want nothing more than to protect the people of Skyrim.”

    I nodded. I believed him.  I had to believe him.  I had no other option.  Lydia and I were back on the road within an hour.

    I have never wanted to travel faster than I did then, and yet everything seemed to be in my way.   Wolves, bandits and giants seemed to lurk around every rock.  We even fought a dragon in the sulfurous Lower White River Valley, where hunters find the hot springs.  Normally, this area is one of my favorite landscapes.  The hunting is excellent, and the bathing is a pleasure in any season.  Apparently, it appealed to the dragon for the same reason.

    I made no effort to hide myself, drawing bow and shooting anytime the beast stood still long enough for my aim to be true.  Lydia was doing the same, but we could not stay together and I would have lost track of her, had I not observed the beast attacking her.  In the end though, the beast turned its full attention on me, and I feared the worst.  I downed a potion to protect me from its flames, and I stood stock still on a low rise, until it hovered to breathe flame upon me, and I shot arrow after arrow directly into the flames.  Finally, the monster came to ground, and I drew the Axe of Whiterun and finished it off.  Again, I felt that strange whirlwind of energy as the body burst into flames and melted into the sky.

    When it was all over, I was tempted to simply turn west and continue my journey, but of course, I could not go on without finding Lydia’s body and confirming her death.  Reluctantly, I turned east and went in search of her.  I am glad I did, as it turned out she was still very much alive.

    “Lydia?” I called.

    “My Lord!” she replied from somewhere in the rockfalls.  “My Lord, I am here, and I am stuck!”

    I found her at the base of a boulder, her ankle firmly trapped beneath a dead and broken tree trunk.

    “I was standing atop that rock,” she explained, “And I was shooting at the dragon.  He swooped low overhead, and shouted, and I found myself down here, with that tree crashing down on top of me.  My ankle feels broken, and I can’t pull on it.”

    I squatted at the end of the log and tried to lift.  It would not move.  I pulled the Axe and tried to lever it up, but the Axe would have broken before that log moved. It wasn’t just the log; there was a whole pile of detritus that had lodged itself together like a children’s puzzle.  After several minutes of futile struggling, I came up with an idea born of desperation.

    “Lydia, I have an idea, but it may hurt.  I have potions in my pack to help you afterwards.  Are you willing?”

    “I am at your command, My Lord.”

    “Cover your ears and your head,” I ordered. When I saw that she had done so, I took a breath and shouted, “FUS!”

    The tree bounced sluggishly, while Lydia and several dozen rocks and boulders flew out from under it like they’d been thrown from a catapult.  “Ahhh!” Lydia complained as her shoulder hit the ground.  I ran after her, already pulling off my pack to find my potion kit.

    “Drink this.  It will help,” I told her, feeling her head for blood, swelling or worse.  She drank the potion, and I waited as she visibly relaxed.  I gently set her head on the ground and went to inspect her ankle.  As I watched, the swelling went down, and the discoloration disappeared.

    “Thank you, Farengar,” I muttered.

    “I’m ready to go when you are, My Lord.”

    “Sure you are,” I agreed.  “Well I’m thirsty, so let’s just you and me finish off my canteen before we move on.”

    I sipped as little as I could and let her have the rest.  When it was done, she struggled to her feet, and we went down to the nearest hot spring to refill.  The water from these springs has a funny odor, but it is some of the cleanest you will find in Skyrim, with the exception of the high mountains.

    Lydia’s limp disappeared by the time the canteen was refilled.  “You’re a tough bird, aren’t you?” I remarked.

    “I’ve been serving in your father’s personal guard for ten years now, my Lord.”

    “Well…” I started, but I had no idea what to say next.  “Well,” I said again. We set off west to participate in the sacking of our home.

    Author's Note: I updated Balgruuf's Build in the Character Build section, on this, the eve of battle.  He's only a level 11, but for that level, oddly overpowered in battle.  http://theskyrimblog.ning.com/group/character-building/forum/topics/balgruuf-the-lesser-stormcloak-idealist

Comments

3 Comments
  • Piper Jo
    Piper Jo   ·  February 9, 2012
    Thanks everyone.  Those moments are really some of my favorites.  If it had not been for Lydia getting stuck, I probably would not have written up that journey at all, but I was wondering how Lydia and Balgruuf would bond, and that's when it happened.
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  February 8, 2012
    Excellent again, Piper Jo!  I always find myself surprised when I get to the end of your posts, and then it is over all of a sudden and back to the real world.  The immediacy and immersiveness of your thoughtfully chosen words make for an enjoyable read, ...  more
  • Guy Corbett
    Guy Corbett   ·  February 8, 2012
    Another top post  I love the bit freeing Lydia. I can't wait for the confrontation with his father. Should be an interesting battle