NationStates

OOC:http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=317466
The land of Skyrim has long been a place of struggle and strife. The country has been torn apart for decades by the civil war that rages not only on its lands, but in the hearts and minds of its people. The people however grow tired of the constant stagnation. They want resolution to the constant conflict. Skyrim has been in a state of limbo as neither pro-imperial, nor pro-independence forces have been able to take control of Skyrim. The Empire has grown weary of the constant conflict and has scaled back its presence in Skyrim and the former stormcloaks have proven scattered and unorganized. The power vacuum must be filled in order to restore peace in Skyrim. It has become clear that it must be dealt with internally and that only the people of Skyrim can decide what they are. Will Skyrim finally have a negotiated peace? Or will another war be needed for peace to finally be achieved?

Aldor Storn
The Jarl of Whiterun was walking among his people as he often did. It
Was spring time and his city looked quite beautiful. Aldor and his father had put great effort into building up and repairing Whiterun, making it more prosperous than it had been before. However Aldor was afraid that might all be threatened soon. His country had been without a high king for a long time and the instability worried Aldor. He wanted Skyrim to be strong, and it needed a high king for that. Aldor had long considered laying a claim himself, but he didn’t want his people to be endangered. Still, his family and court often encouraged him to claim the crown. He wasn’t sure what to do but would have to consider it. Claiming the crown would also mean Aldor would have to marry, which he always insisted he didn’t have time for.
As'car Abrol
Chieftain As’car was sitting on a hill overlooking his stronghold. He was a young and brash leader who expected much from life. He wouldn’t let anything hurt his home of Mor Khazgur, or his dreams of conquest. As’car’s uncle Brosc approached him. “Your traveling party is ready nephew.” He said, bowing to the young chief. As’car nodded, “Good, let us go then.” As’car was heading to Dushnikh Yal to speak to the chieftain there. He would convince him that uniting the orcstrongholds was a good ide, with his words or his sword.

Edward Alabane, Stendarr's Grasp
Edward rode on his steed, examining the frosted wilds as he saw it freeze over. He looked to his right.

"We've spotted the new hold, sir!"
Edward quickly turned to face the man who said that, who was pointing to a rigid stone tower that stood over the trees. He and his escort quickly rode to the tower, which was revealed to be much more than just one of the ruined towers. There were several buildings around it, attached to it, that easily could pass off as a barracks. Edward rode up to what looked like the vigilant in charge, and waited for him to pass his greetings.

"Greetings, sir! Welcome to Stendarr's grasp; our new base of operations North of Skyrim."
Edward simply nodded, saying sternly,

"What's the situation?"
The vigilant beckoned Edward inside the tower, first dismounting his horse, and they came up to a small table with Skyrim's map labled out. He pointed to the location of the Hall of the Vigilants' ruins.

"We've detected conjurers summoning a detachment of Daedra in that area, the force is at least 465 strong, so we've decided to not risk the assault, for fear of losing our presence in Skyrim alltogether."
Edward let out a small grunt before eyeing the area,

"What of the men of Stendarr's beacon?"
The vigilant pointed to the route from the Hall to Stendarr's beacon

"They can't get there in time."
Edward simply shook his head,

"Order a detachment of 300 to meet us in Dawnstar, lead our own force of 250 to them. I will ride ahead attempt to talk with the Jarl there to see if he may spare us any men."
The vigilant nodded and walked out the door. Edward simply looked down at the map, both his palms on it. Whether for better or for worse, the Daedric scum would be purged.

Castle Dour, Solitude

Septimus rested battle-scarred hands the color of leather on the dark stone of the ramparts overlooking the bustling metropolis of Solitude. Thousands of souls lived here, the hardy Nords he had grown to love, all secure against the anarchy of the Stormcloaks and the dragons, their future secured by the Dragonborn. His eyes strayed to the immense manor where the vaunted master of the Thuum made his home; not for many years had he been more than a ephemeral presence in Solitude society, telling stories of the doom of Alduin and the salvation of the world from both Dragon and ancient evil. But though those initial days following the death of Ulfric Stormcloak and the scattering of his followers had been great, the war still raged.

The bloody Thalmor. If only they would leave the world of men alone. How he despised them; the Altmer were not bad chaps, as everything went, and he had numerous soldiers that hailed from their bloodline. But the religious xenophobic fanatics were a scourge on the face of Tamriel, a plague he longed to purge from existence. The Legion in Skyrim was a force to be reckoned with, keeping the peace wherever Imperial Law saw fit to rule. But the east still laid in chaos, the Jarls not opposing the Empire, but still paying homage to the memory of their brainwashed troublemaking former lord.

It would not do. He turned from the parapets, the smell of sea and salt in his nose, and strode back into the spartan chambers the General had taken for his own. Calling an adjutant with booming voice, Septimus drafted missives to all Legion garrisons to increase recruitment. With the Thalmor getting bold in Hammerfell, and his orders from Titus Mede clear, there was much work to do. He also sent a rider to the nearby Orcish stronghold of Mor Khazgur; the Orsimer were staunch allies of the Empire, despised by the Elves and their filth, and warriors of heart and great smiths. With their aid, he would set right what was wrong in Skyrim.

Several hours later a company of his soldiers was marshalled, and left the gates of the immense city of Solitude, several hundreds strong. They were to march for Rockswallow Mine, for the Legion had designs upon it.

Dafne Flandin
The commander of the Hjaalmarch army was practicing new drills. Due to Skyrim's unstable political state the threat of war was forever present, and that meant that soliders had to be ever ready to fight. She had worked hard to get to where she was, a woman commander was almost unheard of in the world and although her race was said to be the best breed of warriors it hadn't been easy. Her smooth skin the same dark mahogany color as fertile earth showed her leanly muscled arms from all her years of training and leading charges in battle. Her long dark hair was kept in several twisted locks and bound away from her face in a high ponytail. Clad in light armor, she was now taking her frustrations out on a practice dummy with sword in hand.

She was one of the closest to the Jarl but could never convince her to change. Dafne loved this Hold deeply despite its bad reputation as it was her home and she was always striving to make it better. The previous Jarl Marich had been a kind and fair man who made significant improvements to Hjaalmarch. The vampire population was mostly under control and the economy had greatly improved although they were still the poorest Hold and still had a ways to go. However the current Jarl and Marich's daughter was threatening to change that. Sereva was power hungry and ruthless, and cared nothing for her people. Dafne swore that that woman would never be High Queen of Skyrim, and she would die to make sure.


Jarl Sereva
The Jarl of Hjaalmarch was in her luxurious castle chambers with her newest lover, a fine specimen with huge muscles and thick blond hair. He was a warrior from Atmora and when the Jarl saw him Sereva knew she had to pounce. Her blood-red hair flowed messily down her back which was as pale and smooth as alabaster and her golden eyes had a wicked gleam to them. Of course, everybody knew about Sereva's affairs but never questioned her as they feared to become severed heads on pikes. Her succession to the Jarldom had been sudden, suspicious and bloody and many in her Hold despised her. They accused her of siphoning money from the coffers to enrich herself and stealing food from the mouths of her people. 'The people." Sereva snorted. They owed her loyalty, she cared nothing for them as long as they obeyed. Her father may've cared for those insects but he was a weak fool and paid the price. Now she would be High Queen of Skyrim and the world would bow to her absolute rule. The redhead licked her lips seductively as she thought about how close the power was, she could almost taste it now.

OOC:
Is there a leader of Dawnstar or do I need to NPC him?

Fort Sungard, The Reach
Legate Chakuk inhaled sharply, Gods, he hated the cold and the snow and just about most things in Skyrim. The people were friendly though, unless you were from Windhelm which he had rather grown to hate due to that fact. At least General Scitari had listened to his request; a Legion with as little as elves as possible. Orcs, Men of all kinds and even the occasional Khajit and Argonian were present - though much more of his brethren existed in the Auxilia Unit he had brought with him. His talons held tightly with his claws pressing on the bricks and stones of the battlements, his cape fluttering gently behind him as the wind and snow moved through the air around him. He had to admit, Skyrim did have a charm to it and the thought of the large central fireplace within the keep was overshadowed by his eyes, oh how the enjoyed staring off into the beautiful untamed wilderness.

Breaking him from his train of thought as he watched the Legionaries and Auxilia practice in the fields below with their respective weapons, great horns of brass and bronze were blown from atop the gates. Thrice it sounded, indicating the return of a hunting party. Off several Orcs ran to the oaken gate and pulled it open just as the portcullis had finished being drawn. Horses, carts and wagons poured in their small group, strings of boar and elk hanging from spits and sticks held upon the shoulders of the party a welcome sight to those weary and hungry individuals of Fort Sungard.

He heard several of his officers come from behind him, pushing open the large door that too opened unto this section of the battlements. These were loyal Imperial men, whom did not discriminate him just because he was a different, a monster. They respected his ability to command, his relationship with his troops and most importantly, he himself. In return, he respected their opinions and suggestions and their value for the lives of the common folk - a feature he had adopted as a result.

"Legate" they said in unison, holding their arms and hands up in salute. "You should return to the Keep, dinner for the troops is about to be served."

The ageing Argonian nodded in agreement, "Aye" he said, his voice much raspier than those of his comrades. "The troops do enjoy us sitting alongside them don't they?"

His officers responded with a nod, and off they marched beside their Legate towards the first meat they were to have this week.

Vigilants of Stendarr, the Reach
Yggrif leaned against the stone wall sleepily as he saw a lone rider approach the fort. He'd lean in and see the rider was indeed another vigilant. He'd approach the vigilant and get handed a note.
"Orders from Keeper Edward, make sure the others know."

Yggrif skimmed over it quickly, nodded, and then jogged inside the barracks, before cupping his mouth to shout,
"Oi! You sleepy heads! Orders from the new keeper! We are to head to the Pale!"

Audible groans and murmuring was heard as Yggrif raised the note and swayed it, hoping that would cause them to hurry up. He watched as they all shuffled past him, while equipping their gear. One by one they would head outside to mount on their steeds, waiting for everyone else to finish before they finish.
Edward looked at the vigilant messanger,
"Are you sure this is a bright idea?" He says, peering into his eyes.

The vigilant shrugged, "If worst comes to worst, there are still vigilants patrolling around the Reach."

As if that made him feel better. Either way, he forced himself to head to his own steed, as he gave a short shout, signifying it's time to leave.

Aldor Storn
Aldor soon returned to his keep where he had work to do. He always liked Dragonsreach, though it could feel cold and empty sometimes. Aldor considered his options in his study. The Jarl of Whiterun had good relationships with most of the Jarls of Skyrim, and made sure to keep in contact with them. However he had so far had little contact with his neighbor to the north, Jarl Sereva. He knew little about her, other than the fact that her father had died suddenly and before his time. He decide to write her a letter, inviting her to visit his city.
Dear Jarl Sereva of Marthol
I relative that we have not much been in contact since you have become Jarl of your fine hold. I would like to welcome you to visit my city of Whiterun so that we could come to know each other better. I fear that these times coming will be times when friends are necessary for protection. I look forward to your response.
Sincerely, Jarl Aldor Storn of Whiterun
He sent the letter off with a courier and move on to looking at guard reports.

After Jarl Sereva had her fun with this Nordic god, she decided to leave him for a bit to go build up her power base. She would need the support of other Jarls and also the people she disdained so much if she is to become High Queen. Deception was one of her finer points next to seduction and she rummaged through her vast wardrobe and chose an alluring green gown to wear when there was a rap on her door followed by a young lady in waiting letting herself in. "Who dares to disturb the Jarl in her chambers?!" she shouted in her cold, shrill voice that made her servants shudder with fear. "A l..letter m..my lady." "F..from the J..j..ja.." "Speak up imbecile, I don't have the patience for your muttering!" Sereva snapped coldly, making the maid bow lower. "Forgive me ma'am, a letter from the Jarl of Whiterun." she said, tears leaking from her eyes and handing Sereva the letter. Sereva plucked it from the girl's hand and read it. A cat-like smirk broke Sereva's features, it was brilliant. Whiterun was a powerful Hold, and gaining the Jarl's support would further her ambition. Her golden eyes flashed and she turned to the still bowing maid.

"Come girl, you will help me dress and I will go to my desk and write to Jarl Storn." "And after that, go fetch Commander Flandin." "We're going to Dragonsreach and I will need my protection."

"You will be coming as well, my sweet." "You're quite a pretty thing, but small." Sereva lifted the girl's chin up, forcing terified brown eyes to look into hers. It was a known fact that Marthol's Jarl took lovers of both sexes and most of the time they were either too seduced or too scared to deny her.

Aldor
Aldor prepared his keep for the possibility of Jarl Sereva visiting. He didn't know much about her, or her reputation. He wondered what she would be like.
Alrisa Asmara
Alrisa was training with her fellow companions in the training yard. She had recently come back from a mission, though she was eager for another one. Alrisa was always looking to prove herself, and recently her group had been getting jobs from the Jarl himself. Alrisa was hoping to gain his favor, so that if war came, she could aid him.

Thonad Felgeif - The White Hall

Thonad was sprawled across his throne, enjoying a cup of warm mead while listening to his favourite bard, Yonleir, sing of his heroic battle against the great Falmer chief Zaaloc. Thonad felt a great deal of pride over the largely embellished story the bard was singing. He loudly clapped and cheered as the bard ended his song, downing his mead and standing up with some difficulty.

"Yonleir, I Jarl Thonad name you as my official bard, to play and live in my halls" shouted a rather drunk Thonad, swaying from side to side.

"My Jarl, I am honored" replied Yonleir, not bothering to inform the Jarl that he had been the official bard for several months already.

"Excellent" boomed Thonad, sinking back into his tired throne. He bellowed for another horn of mead, all this hard work and talking had made him rather thirsty, though before his servant could deliver his beverage he had dozed off.

Tomia wrote:Aldor
Aldor prepared his keep for the possibility of Jarl Sereva visiting. He didn't know much about her, or her reputation. He wondered what she would be like.
Alrisa Asmara
Alrisa was training with her fellow companions in the training yard. She had recently come back from a mission, though she was eager for another one. Alrisa was always looking to prove herself, and recently her group had been getting jobs from the Jarl himself. Alrisa was hoping to gain his favor, so that if war came, she could aid him.

Sereva wrote down the letter and sent it off with her fastest raven.

Aldor Storn, Jarl of Whiterun
I have received your most gracious invitation and am informing you that I will be happy to visit and see your Hold. It is probably much less dreary than the Hold I rule and it gives us the perfect opportunity to discuss matters of state. I will be leaving within the hour and look forward to seeing you.

Sereva Marinus, Jarl of Hjaalmarch.

After a few hours Jarl Aldor received the letter from Jarl Sereva. He had his staff prepare the keep and had his brother Tharin prepare the security for the castle. That in was the captain of his older brother's guard and was a good soldier. Though some thought he was jealous of his older brother. Aldor wouldn't believe it though, as they were very close.

Uruk Stone-Head
Thane of the Pale

It was a cold morning as always, the sun was high, the winds were strong, the mines were active. Uruk woke up in his bed, a one man with a red velvet for covers bed. He laughed to himself as he thought of the idea, an Orc, proud member of Orisinium, former son of a chief, was a thane. He fought valiantly against the Imperials when Dawnstar was attacked. He wore Iron Armor and had an orcish Greatsword, given by his father before going to Malacath. He was finally happy, albeit at a young age. He is only 20, yet, he grew up at a harsh environment. He was an outcast before, mocked at for being a beggar and an orc. Racist Scums they were, Bretons, Imperials, and the elves. The Nords were respectful of the Orcs because of their comnat skills and great blacksmith skills.

He then went to the local blacksmith, asking for any Orichalum ingots. "Sorry thane, no Orichalum yet, maybe the mines have some, i don't know." said the blacksmith with a worried face because of his reputation as a hot headed character. "Ah, Alright, thank you anyway blacksmith." Said Uruk with a disappointed face and tone of voice. He next went to the barracks, where the men were just changing shifts. "Attention maggots!" Shouted Uruk with a clear, loud and demanding voice. "As you all know, this civil war is still going, and i will not let this proud city be besieged by any factions in the war." said Uruk with a surprisingly calming voice. "Here on now, We need to stand vigilant with any soldiers in both sides. Report to the Captain of the Guard or me, whichever you prefer. Now MOVE Worms!" Shouted Uruk as the soldiers doubled timed their morning doings.

Uruk then went to the side of the Jarl, waiting for the next order.

Rockswallow Mine, Hjaalmarch

The sound of hobnailed boots filled the worn cobble road that led from the west; a company of the Legion that served the true Empire had come, siege engineers and heavy infantry. In these times of uncertainty securing the sources of war materials was one of the most important tasks any commander faced. With cries the men began to fan out, one captain presenting the humble workers and their foreman with a signed missive from their owner allowing the Legion to secure and defend Rockswallow. Rockswallow supplied the smelters of Solitude, and securing it would ensure equipment for the new recruits to come from the farms and artisans of Skyrim to the call of the Emperor and General Scitari.

Dushnikh, Southeast Markarth Hold

A similar scene repeated itself at Dushnikh, in the craggy hills and vales of Markarth. Though these regions were not pacified and the Reachmen roamed at will, strong points were held by the forces of the Legion, and this was soon to be no exception. Dispatched from the garrison in Markarth, the men would secure the vital orichalcum deposits to be found here, and swiftly engineers began raising a stockade of logs and stone to defend the vital lifeline for the General's plans.

Edward Alabane, The Pale
Edward and his troop would arrive at Dawnstar, with their robes practically covered in frost. He would order his men to camp outside the city limits, as he and a guard of 4 men would head into the city itself. A mix of glances from happy, fearful, to angry come from the civilians as they stare in awe at the vigilant force that has come in front of their village. Edward would head straight to the first guard he sees and asks "Where can I find the Thane?" Knowing from briefing that most Jarls do not like to talk to such people directly.

The guard simply points to the Jarl's building, "He's in there, but don't go causing any trouble."
Edward would just ignore him as he'd head to the front of the building, he'd turn to his two escorts, "Stay here," He'd say coldly, and they would obey. He'd open the door and find himself in front of the Jarl and his Thane.
"I come to speak with either you or your Thane, Jarl. It is a matter of utmost importance, concerning the Daedra." He'd say, allowing his rough hood to cover his face, causing a bit of a shadow on his features. Edward would just look amongst the people of the crowd.

Uruk was suspicious of this man in the hood. "Daedra?" Uruk said with a tone of enjoyment. "What about the Daedra vigilant? No Daedra has been causing trouble here." Said Uruk as he motioned for the guards to get ready for a fight if need be. "Speak, before this Orc shows you how to fight."

Edward Alabane, being threatened by an orc
Annoyed, he simply looks up, the blue twinkle shining in his eyes.

"I don't have time for this. Daedra are amassing at the ruins of the Hall of the Vigilants. I came to see if you wanted to bloody your blade on those fools, but if you are going to threaten me, I could always let your town be burnt to the ground FIRST, It might give us a better surprise attack, anyway." He'd look around to see what effect that would have on the crowd.

"HAHAHA! Spoken like a true Orc! Daedra amassing at the Hall of Vigilants? Sure! I haven't been in a good fight for a long time! Let's go, I'll summon some of my own men and we can get going." Said Uruk, who was usually quiet. He went to his room, got some potions and food, a secondary weapon and finally his greatsword. He then motioned for his men to stand ground and guard the town before leaving, as to not leave this place undefended. "Let's go, no time like the present." Said Uruk

Edward Alabane
Edward chuckled, pleased by the fact his words did not aggrivate them further.
"Not yet, if we attack now we will be crushed. My vigilants will remain by the city, but reinforcements from the Reach are still on their way. Don't worry, you will get your chance soon enough. If you wish to discuss strategy I will be at the city limits." He'd turn around and head out of the building.

Vigilant Reinforcements, Windhelm

Yggrif looked at the men as they made their stop at windhelm. They would buy some supplies and get re-equipped for their journey. Yggrif chuckled, it's been so long since a real battle, the men would be itching for some daedric blood on their blades.
"With luck, we'll be there by tomorrow morning." He said silently, staring off at the pass they need to go through.

"Ah, made me work up over nothing, anyway, I'll come by soon, I need to prepare the men for the battle. In any case, Feel free to go around the town, but don't cause any trouble." Said Uruk, who went outside to the barracks after the conversation. "Maggots! Apparently, Daedra are present, stand guard and firm, we don't want to die with our swords up our ass now do we?" Said Uruk to the guards."I need at least 100 men with me, we ride tomorrow or sooner, but be prepared fools." Uruk then went to the training yard, practicing and thinking of going to the city limits.

Tomia wrote:After a few hours Jarl Aldor received the letter from Jarl Sereva. He had his staff prepare the keep and had his brother Tharin prepare the security for the castle. That in was the captain of his older brother's guard and was a good soldier. Though some thought he was jealous of his older brother. Aldor wouldn't believe it though, as they were very close.

Jarl Sereva had gotten dressed and had her servants pack everything she wanted to take, also she appointed her trusted advisor Mardino Mortu as her regent while he was away. She sent some people down to the Rockswallow Mines as she heard people talking about some imperials down there and to bring the news. In the barracks while Dafne was polishing he sword, the hollow gold beads in her locked hair jingled as her head was bent down and sh heard a knock on the door. Another soldier came in and dipped his head to her. "Commander, the Jarl is on her way to the barracks and it appears she's looking for you." the large man said, his black beard curling over his breastplate. Dafne looked at him curiously. "The Jarl, what could she possibly want?" the Redguard woman wondered. "Doesn't matter, thank you Brutain." Dafne stood up and clasped Brutain's shoulder on her way out. As she walked out of the barracks the Jarl was walking toward her looking as sour as ever but also smugly satisfied. Dafne dipped her head in a half-hearted bow. "My lady." Dafne said lowly.

"Commander, we leave for Whiterun to visit the Jarl." "Pack your things, he has invited us and we leave within the hour." Sereva said simply. "What for, why would he just suddenly invite us?" Dafne asked. "Don't ask questions, just pack." Sereva said, walking away. "I am the commander of the army my lady, it is my duty to be informed about these things." Dafne called back,going back to her bunkers to pack her things. Her sword and armor were first, but she was going to visit a Jarl after all and she should look nice. After bathing, Dafne went through the few formal gowns she had and chose a red one that actually showed off the feminine curves and large ample bust that was usually hidden under metal plate and mail. She wore no makeup and tied her hair back with a red ribbon, the gold beads that ornamented her long locked hair also decorated her ears.Nobody knew underneath her corset was plated with armor and lined with mail, also there was a bodice dagger hidden inside as she was a warrior before all. After she packed, Dafne was escorted by servants to the Jarl and as the Jarl rode in the carriage, Dafne rode on a horse beside her and they headed for Whiterun.

Jarl Aldor spent the time waiting for Jarl Sereva going over the defenses of his city and his hold. Though the Dragonborn and the blades defeated many of the dragons that infested Skyrim, a few still roamed the sky and would attack villages every so often. He then dressed in a nice set of armor at the insistence of his advisors. They wanted him to make a good impression of Jarl Sereva.
As'car Abrol had begone his journey south towards Dushnikh Yal. He was not sure what the chieftain there would say to his offer, but As'car would not be denied. Too long his people had been rejected and mistreated by the non-orcs of Skyrim. The Thalmor often harassed them, and the Empire and it's jarls did nothing. He knew only united could the orcs of Skyrim resist.

Uruk, with nothing to do, goes to the vigilant he met earlier. It was at the city limits, a cold wind gushes in and out from time to time. He then saw the vigilant, discussing strategy with his own men. "Vigilant, let's talk tactics, although i have never fought a daedra, you must know my blood boils the chance to fight these things. So tell me, what's the plan?" Uruk said with a clear face of enjoyment.

Edward Alabane, Dawnstar city limits
The Thane would walk up to see a mass of tents that seem to go across either sides of the road, as hundreds of vigilants talk amongst one another and prepare for the battle at the Hall. Edward would look at the thane, and say bluntly

"Your weapons will be useless against their armor. Every daedra is worth 5 of our VIGILANTS- those who were made specifically to them. You personally will not be able to fight one with an unenchanted weapon. Your men greatly outnumbers ours, however. I have instructed the vigilants to enchant your men with "Stoneflesh", adding your mens' lifespan by at least a few more seconds." He would smirk.

"But let us not worry about that now. I am planning for your army to distract them with a full frontal assault, while my vigilants come in from the sides and do a pincer motion on their hold. Your men DO have the full armor, after all."

He'd point to a bright orange spec on the mountainside, "That, right there, is their camp. We must put an end to it. It is no oblivion invasion, however if left unchecked, these conjurers can and will weaken the Aedric presence here, and maybe, just maybe, ALLOWING a real oblivion invasion in skyrim."