Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 290: Chapter XVI: The Encirclement



Cleaning up the close to two and a half thousand corpses took us the better part of the day. The losses were heavily in our favor as the Empire lost only around five hundred in the fighting with the twice as many wounded being treated with my usual uncaring efficiency.

The Stormcloaks on the other hand died in droves, they may have held an advantage to begin with but the sudden assault combined with my hammer attack stopped them from retreating in time to preserve their numbers and what with the usual Nordic stubbornness their surrender came far later than was reasonable and only after my own involvement.

A thousand of them managed to break off as they were stationed on the relative periphery of the battle, the moment their commander realized the battle was lost he did the smart thing and fucked off back to the city.

Still, this did leave us with some five hundred prisoners, the vast majority of whom were promptly shoved into a column and loaded up onto an Imperial galley that broke off from the blockade.

The only ones left were the commanders and they were given the dubious honor of being questioned for any information they could provide. The fact they would get healed after each... session of their defiance did diminish its effectiveness somewhat but repeat it a couple of times and even the most stubborn among their number swiftly sold out their kinsmen in a manner so complete I finally understood why Ulfric broke when the Thalmor imprisoned him all those years ago.

Tullius arrived with his posse a mere hour after the battle was done and quickly started giving out orders from his new command post, now positioned at the region's most strategically important point, the crossing.

He had the engineers construct a proper bridge, wide enough for a good three carts to cross side by side. Where once there was only a shallow crossing and soon thousands of men were moving from one side to the other, carrying supplies and construction equipment, most of it being wood felled directly from the local forests, and before long a trio of legionary forts surrounded the city of Dawnstar.

The rebels stuck within the walls did try and sally out a couple of times when the fogs were particularly heavy but they quickly learned the folly of their ways when what they thought was a simple construction team turned to be a grinning Tiberius.

As if the textbook surround was not enough for the madlad, Tullius decided to do a Caesar and had another defensive fortification placed to our south, exactly in the most likely direction of Ulfric's approach.

The whole thing took days to finish but the harsh training imposed upon the new legionaries back in Solitude and the direction given by the veteran engineers saw the multiple walled camps connected by kilometer spanning walls fully erect by the time the day of the enemy vanguard came about, a good day later than I had expected them.

But that was to come later, as currently at the eve of the second day of the true siege I found myself sitting on a rocking chair I brought with me as a large and unnaturally detailed map lay on a low table to my side. Tullius was also seated on the other end and was currently busy staring into the distance, his face covered in the near-perpetual frown he always seemed to develop before battle was joined.

From time to time he would move a figurine on the map from one spot to another, leaving it there for a while until I reacted either positively or negatively, completely abusing the vague feelings I got from each 'proposed strategy' to plan out the most detailed and efficient slaughter of our enemies.

"While that would work in most cases you face the issue of manpower and a lack of loyalty." I wave his most recent move off "Falkreath may have surrendered but I fear some of them would still switch sides if given the opportunity."

He scowls and pulls the figurine back "Damned cowards." He curses "The eastern forests are too large and thick for any of the heavier troops to face the traitors from Riften and we know Ulfric is not stupid enough to ignore the opportunity."

"Switch the Morthal troops with a chunk of the Solitude ones" I decided after a brief bout of thinking "They are used to lighter warfare and even if the woods aren't their preferred swamps they will still be able to ambush multiple groups before they are forced into open battle, at which point we can just have them retreat into another ambush point and so on and so on."

"That would still leave us overly reliant on our enemy's mistakes." Tullius points out immediately.

I shrug "Send Tiberius with them, and the Winterhold contingent as well. Their magic will even the odds greatly and I can cover the rest of the battlefield with ease."

"The fact I do not consider the statement to be pure arrogance worries me." He grouses with a cynical smirk on his face "Very well, I will pass the command to young Gracchus, it will give me the perfect opportunity to promote him as well."

"Got to love nepotism!" I exclaim happily.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The General huffs but doesn't correct me "So long as they are skilled."

"For all his usual idiocy I can't say that he lacks skill." I agree and flick a new cigar into my hand "His obsession with conjuration aside he does have a knack for command."

Tullius hums non-committedly and moves yet another figurine, this time denoting the mounted force of the Knights of High Rock, leaving them well behind our lines as a rapid response unit was the obvious choice so I made no comment and let the decision remain. "These potential revolts you have gained information on..." Tullius begins leadingly "Are you certain you will be able to deal with them before they do much damage?"

I outright chuckle at this "Oh I wouldn't worry about them overmuch."

(General POV)

Within one of the larger noble halls of Morthal sat the pudgy leader of the local discontents. The supposed leader of the Stormcloaks in the hold was breathing heavily as sweat poured down his brow, his fellows looking up at him with trepidation.

"I am afraid that the t-time has c-come, my friends." He stammered as his eyes passed the ten pairs of crimson embers looking at him from the shadows "To dis-disband." He sighed with finality.

His now former comrades quickly split into two camps, the ones who actually agreed with the decision and the truly stubborn who could not see the way in which the wind was blowing, those who would no doubt find themselves in numerous accidents should they persist.

Only when he managed to calm them all down and explain the situation did they all leave the hall, finally prompting the group of assassins to lower their crossbows and disappear, just in time for his chair to be covered in urine.

(Reyvin's POV)

"Indeed, I would not worry at all." I keep chuckling 'mysteriously'.

"And what of Riften?" He prompts further "Now that a good part of the army has departed,

when do you plan on overtaking the hold while we fight?"

"Plan on?" I tilt my head and can see the headache already forming in the poor man "My good

man, the city should have fallen already."

This just earned me one very long blank look.

(General POV, two days prior)

Maven Black-Briar, the dreaded shadow Jarl of Riften, observed her unnaturally quiet city, a massive chunk of the poor being effectively conscripted into the Stormcloak army for the promise of some piddling income or yet worse, the promise of glory.

How they planned to eat that glory she knew not but she was not about to weep for the stupid. No, her lot was to profit from the idiocy of others and that would continue for as long as she

lived.

She did not so much as twitch as Maul barged into her study, her scathing look was more than enough to have the man shivering under the threat of punishment should his sudden entrance

be without reason.

"A message." Her enforcer gulped "From Flame-Tongue."

Her hand twitched in painful remembrance but she needed no prompting to relearn that particular lesson and simply asked "Is it time?"

Maul nodded "Aye."

"Very well." She sighed and got up "Go and rile up the mercenaries and Argonians, I want the whole city under occupation by the time I end Laila."

"Yes ma'am." He saluted and was gone.

With a grunt of annoyance, Maven Black-Briar started sliding a veritable slew of enchanted items onto her person, anything from protective amulets to ever-poisonous daggers. She may have hated the fact she would have to be even partly accountable to the people she profited from for all these years but if she was already being forced into taking command she would do it right... even if it did cost her her old friend's life by her own hand. The rest of her preparations did not take long after that, her children were promptly informed to gather up their own warriors, and before the sun had set they had already stormed the unsuspecting keep, the pitiful Jarl 'Law-Bringer' slain before she could so much as react to the betrayal, the Stormcloak leader left behind due to a long-term injury falling not long after

that.

By the time the sun rose, the city of Riften was in Maven's hands, and thus the Empire's. Even as she observed the falsely adoring populace praising her for their 'liberation' the old woman could only feel bitter at everything that happened.

(Reyvin's POV, back to the present)

It took him a good minute to gather his wits to a sufficient degree, but the good General was made of stern stuff and gathered himself at an impressive speed "And the Whiterun supply route?" He asked "I have my own forces guarding the caravans but garrisoning the border would just invite an attack that they would be unable to hold with their low numbers." "I did send someone to oversee that particular avenue." I confirm immediately "Though whether Ulfric chose to send someone to harass Balgruuf or not I find myself unsure." (Stormcloak Officer's POV, Valtheim Towers)

We grew increasingly cautious as we approached the accursed towers marking the border between Whiterun and Windhelm.

My five hundred strong cavalry force was sent by the true High King on a mighty task. For we

were indeed sent forth to raid our wicked enemy's supply lines in the name of mighty Talos, no elf lovers deserved the food anyway.

As we got closer and closer all of us could see a glint of silver shining atop the tower affixed near the road, and soon a tall elven figure so pale it was whiter than snow revealed itself to us. "You shall not pass!" The figure proclaimed with a voice both melodious and powerful. "And who are you to stop us, elf?" I immediately asked, a fair bit of mockery in my tone.

"I am Alor, apprentice to Lord Dagoth." He said with immense pride "And if you do not turn back you will feel the wrath of the Falmer reborn! You shall not pass!"

The men started to laugh at his sheer audacity but something in the back of my head told me

this was not going to go well. Still, I would not permit anyone to call me a coward, so I drew

my blade and pointed it at the elf "Come down here if you are so bold, let us see if your courage remains when you stand before good strong Nords!"

The elf dared to laugh at my challenge "So you will not leave?" He asked, almost in

anticipation.

"What are we even waiting for?" My second in command almost snarled "He is but one man!"

"Excellent!" The elf grinned "Witness then, the power of House Dagoth!" He spread his arms grandly and the very earth around us seemed to shudder.

And then we found ourselves surrounded by hundreds of vile machines, all of them armed

with crossbows and ballistae.

I did not even have the time to scream as my head was blown off my shoulders.

(Reyvin's POV)

"Nah, they should be fine." I wave the whole thing off and refocus on the map "Satisfied with

your plan, General?"

"More than usual." He grunts, almost appreciatively "Best that we get some rest now, if your sight is true then tomorrow will mark the start of the deciding battle of this... war."

"Just call it a petty rebellion if you want, you will find no disagreement from me." Earning myself an amused 'hmph!' from the older man, I was left alone to ponder the coming conflict as sleep evaded me throughout the whole night.

As the sun rose, I was once more joined by Tullius, even though this time he was followed by a

good chunk of his command staff, he offered me a light salute in greeting and gazed into the distance "They are here." And they were indeed, for the distant horizon was now covered in the many banners of blue and white, the bear of Windhelm the most prominent of all. "Well then." I jump up from my seat and take a better look at the approaching army "It would seem that our friends did indeed manage to do some damage after all. How incredibly generous of them." I note idly, a couple hundred of their warriors bore barely healed wounds and their weapons and armor were marked with battle damage.

"Yes..." Tullius takes a slow breath "I did get a report of them returning yesterday, greatly

reduced in number is what I hear."

I shrug "It was their lot, and the idiots stayed for way too long, but that did give us the time

to offer our troops a break so I'd say it was worth it."

"I have no doubts of that." Tullius nods and waves for me to follow "Come, we have a war to

win."

The rebels must have stubbed their toes on all the stones I still don't have.

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