<-PREVIOUS ----- NEXT (Coming Soon)->
((My tenth blog post on the site! Yay for small milestones!))
In the aftermath of the dragon attack, we searched every part of the city for anyone that may be injured. Thankfully, no civilians were killed, but several guards and imperial soldiers now lay dead. Among the deceased was the captain of the Solitude guard, Captain Aldis. His body was laying under the skull of the dragon, his greatsword protruding up into the beast. "Well I guess there's no questioning who slayed the beast," someone lightly joked. There was a light wave of laughter from those around, but it died out quickly. Guards and soldiers alike removed their helmets out of respect for the man, taking a knee while we continued to look on. After several minutes, we left the body with the care of a few guards to go finish searching the city. In total, seven guards and three soldiers were killed, and, while no civilians were dead, a few supported frostbitten fingers from where the dragon's breath had frozen them completely. These survivors as well as the injured fighters were rushed to the temple to be healed and looked at. When we returned to the market square where the dragon remains lay, we saw that the Captain's body had been pulled out from under the dragon and his sword removed from the skull. It still made my heart ache to see him laying there like that. "Sovngarde welcomes you, brother," I muttered as I looked at him.
He may be in Sovngarde now, but I bet you anything that man is bragging to everyone how he slayed the dragon in "The Ravaging of Solitude."
The next two days after that, we held funerals for those that perished and tried to figure out what to do with the dragon's remains. It turns out that the skeleton was practically weightless, and a few mages were able to use various spells to blast the dragon hundreds of meters at at time until it had been left in the mountains near the city. There was a full procession for the funeral of the captain, with the whole of the Solitude guard taking turns carrying his coffin from the market square where he died to the catacombs under the Hall of the Dead. When that was over, I was approached by Jarl Elisif and asked to join her in the Blue Palace for dinner. Confused slightly, I obliged. During the greatest meal I had ever eaten (hoarker steaks, baked potatoes, several different types of fruit, leeks, and all the mead I could drink), she offered me the title of Captain of the Guard. Shocked, I choked on the alto wine that I had been drinking at the time. Once I managed to regain my composure, I made sure I heard her right. "Of course," she told me. "I have heard from several of your comrades that you fought bravely during the battle and have been a fantastic member of the guard for two years now. I think you deserve it." Flattered, I accept. I felt like I was walking on air as I left the Palace that night. I immediately made my way to the Hall of the Dead to pay one last respect to Aldis, assuring him that I would bring honor to his title.
You'd think such a revered man would have earned himself a better coffin than the standard "boring" edition.
That night, I oficially started my job as Captain Tobias (sounds odd, yet strangely satisfying, doesn't it?). I talked with Tulius so that I could be debriefed about the security of Solitude and the whole of Haafingar Hold, I made my rounds patrolling the city, which were considerably shorter and less boring now (thank the gods), and I kept monitored the guard training in the Castle Dour courtyard. It felt nice being able to bark commands at the other guards, telling them to "straighten their aim!" and "aim for the head!" Several guards acted a little disgruntled at the fact that I was named captain when there were those that had been guards longer than I, but on the whole, they seemed to accept my role as leader. Smiling to myself, I swore to keep the city safe with my life, just as Captain Aldis had before me...
"If you keep shooting like that, you'll be lucky to hit the broad side of a mammoth! Don't look at me like that! Just like I no longer have to wear my helmet doesn't mean you can stare! Keep firing!"
----------
The day after Jarl Ulfric told us his tale, work came to the city from Riften down south. An Imperial battalion had been set up in The Rift just a few leagues to the west of the capital. After gathering details from the courier, Ulfric turned to the leader of our squad and ordered us to take a wagon of supplies down to Riften and assist any soldiers down there in attacking and wiping out the Legionaries. Three days later, we stood outside Darklight Tower, Imperial solders staring down at us from within the walls of the fort. This wasn't going to be a standard attack, because this wasn't a standard type of setup for either side to take. The tower was lightly defended. It sat with one side against a mountain and an old, battered wall on the other. It would be no problem for us to invade. Why then, did they set up here? Odd location or not, though, we attacked, and we attacked hard.
Do you even think he saw me coming? No shield. No sword raised in defense. Oh well. I'm not complaining that it was easy to split his skull.
The Stormcloaks surged through the archway at the entrance to the fort, Imperials rushing down towards us from the tower. The clatter of us meeting each other half way up the small hill was deafening. Yells of men echoed in the night. The roaring of fireball spells singed the air as they rushed towards their targets. I dodged an Imperial sword coming towards my chest, bashed it's wielder with my shield, then brought my axe down on his shoulder, severing his arm and leaving him to scream as he bled out on the stone steps. I split the helm of an Imperial legate from behind before raising my waraxe to parry the blow from another Legionnaire. Raising my shield, I blocked an incoming arrow before throwing my weapon at the archer who shot at me. It caught in his chest, felling him. Drawing an iron dagger from my belt, I was forced to stay on the defensive the rest of the battle, blocking attacks with my shield before backpeddling and trying to slash them with my dagger.
In all this chaos, not even I know where I am in all this. If you find me, let me know. There'll be a few septims in it for you if you do.
After almost a full hour, the last Imperial fell. Breathing hard and sweating harder, I fall onto the ground, laying spread-eagle as I try to catch my breath. This was the number one bloodiest battle I had ever fought in. Of the nearly one hundred soldiers that fought here tonight, only three were left standing: myself, a general from Riften, and another nobody soldier. My entire unit had been wiped out and I alone would have to return to Windhelm. Eventually gathering my strength, I stood and looked around. The courtyard to the tower was absolutely littered with bodies. Imperials and Nords alike lay scattered on the ground, the stone and grass dyed red with their blood. The three of us gathered in a bare spot where there were no corpses and discussed our next move. All three of us were from different squads and had to report to different cities or forts. Alone, we would make easy prey for other Legionaries roaming The Rift or Eastmarch. We agreed to all head to Riften, where the general was from and then send out messages to our respective command posts to get orders. First, though, we needed to try and clean up from the battle. The three of us would take hours, if not days, to try and sort out the bodies from both sides, as was standard in normal battles, so we simply decided to lay everyone shoulder to shoulder throughout the courtyard and then, since the other soldier was a mage, burn all the bodies, even though the tower would likely burn down as well from the huge fire raging at its base. "That's the way war goes," the general muttered when I pointed that out to him...
I suspect we'll be done with clean-up in, oh, two weeks?
Comments