User blog:DB Baxter/The Age of Heroes - True Colors

Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak pushed open the giant double-doors and entered the palace. Behind him, his trusted lieutenant and good friend, Galmar Stone-Fist, was glancing around warily and ensuring that the guards stayed put.

“I don’t trust this one bit, Ulfric,” He murmured. “Keep a hand near your axe. If he tries to betray us...”

“Balgruuf is too proud a man for backstabbing and secretive murder,” Ulfric calmed his friend, nodding to the guards standing next to the stairs that lead up to the throne room.

“We thought the same thing of the Empire, Ulfric. We thought them better than any of this, but look at where they stand now.”

Ulfric smirked. “I suspect that’s why he has called us here.”

When Ulfric and Galmar ascended to the top of the stairs, they would see Jarl Balgruuf the Greater himself hunched over in his throne and staring deep into the steady fires that illuminated the entire room with their glow and warmth. Though it should have felt cozy, the atmosphere was most certainly filled with tension and depression. The guards appeared slouched and tired, and most of the Jarl’s court was seated at a table with their head down. The food in front of them had barely touched.

“Jarl Ulfric,” Balguuf said wearily, not bothering to take his eyes off the fire. “I’m glad you’ve decided to come.”

“Hmph… you certainly don’t look glad to see me,” Ulfric gave a glance of pity to the court members.

“Forgive me, I… I haven’t had much time to sleep in these last few weeks,” He murmured, rubbing his face and compelling himself to sit up.

Ulfric knew better than that. Misery and fatigue had been hanging over the planes of Whiterun for the better part of 5 years now. Amaund Motierre took the throne all those years ago, and the greed and lack of basic human morality that had defined his rule was sucking the life right out of Whiterun. The pressure he was putting on this city to side was well publicized. Trade routes had been cut off, Guard patrols had come up missing, The Empire had put Whiterun in a stranglehold that they could not fight out of. They would either die here and let Motierre take the land or they would submit to Imperial rule, and fork over every bit of coin and food in their pockets to feed the stomachs of the gutless Imperial nobles.

No longer was this empire built to serve the people under its banner. It was now built to take everything from them and feed it to the pigs that sat on the Elder Council.

It had been a fortunate change of events for Ulfric and his rebellion. With Amaund making a fool of himself and putting his own people through untold suffering, general support had swung in favor of the Nordic nationalists, and Windhelm was flooded with new recruits willing to take the fight to this infernal Empire. Some of those recruits were not even of Nordic blood.

“So… what have I been called here for?” Ulfric said, standing just at the base of the throne with his arms folded. Galmar stood back by the fire and kept his ever-cautious glare locked on the Jarl.

“I… I have decided, that this nonsense… this Empire… it cannot continue to have its hold on Whiterun… You and I both know that,” He finally got out, shaking his head.

“Obviously,” Jarl Ulfric said. “Have you just summoned me here to inform me that the Empire has been mean to you?”

“I…”

“You know why he called you here. Do not taunt us!” A voice snapped from one of the tables.

Ulfric’s head turned towards the source of the voice, and saw a whelp that couldn’t have been any older than 15 standing up. He looked just as tired as the Jarl, but his eyes showed nothing but fury. “You know damn well why we brought you here. Stop trying to savor the moment you pompous-“

“Bite your tongue, boy!” Galmar hissed at the young Nord. “Else I’ll come over there and yank it out of your mouth.”

“Calm yourself, Galmar,” Ulfric gestured for his compatriot to stand down. Galmar grumbled something to himself, but kept his hands at his side for the moment.

“You must be Nelkir, then,” Ulfric turned his attention back to the boy. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.”

Nelkir was about to open his mouth again, but before he had the opportunity, the boy sitting next to him rose up and spoke in place of him. This boy looked well off, at least in better health than the rest of the court. He looked to be older than Nelkir, but not by much.

“What my hot-headed sibling was trying to say,” Frothar put his hand on Nelkir’s shoulder and sat him down. “Is that neither you nor we have the time to be trying to pull answers out of our father. If it’s all the same to you, your highness, we would prefer if we just got to the heart of the matter.”

Ulfric smirked a bit at Frothar, before turning his attention back to Balgruuf. “So… you’ve finally decided that I’m the lesser of these evils.”

“I’ve decided that if the people of Whiterun are to live in peace and with full bellies, then I cannot continue to keep my neutrality…” Balgruuf said. “The Empire has shown their hand. And now I must play mine.”

“So now that it’s your own hide that needs saving, you come to us?” Galmar chuckled, folding his arms. “When we needed your support, when we needed your help in fighting the Empire, where were you, Balgruuf? Sitting here, plugging your ears and pretending the Empire was fine as they butchered our way of life. But now that you’re the one on the chopping block, now that it’s your sons that are going hungry… you just expect us to come in to save the day.”

“Damn you, Stone-fist…. This is different!” Balgruuf snapped. “I kept us neutral to protect my people. Whiterun’s people… I tried to keep them out of the fire. Keep them safe!”

“And now look at them. Look at the fruit of your labors. Your ‘neutrality’ has only forced them to die of starvation in the streets,” Galmar said.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want a damn apology, for all the time you’ve wasted dawdling and hiding in your court, for your prolonging of this war. All the blood that has been spilled in this damn hold, because of your cowardice, that is what I want an apology for!”

The court began to whisper and openly argue now. Balgruuf harshly rose from his throne, his look of sadness morphing into a look of rage

“You miserable-“

“Enough!” Ulfric shouted, silencing the room with just his voice. It almost seemed like he had used the Thu’um itself as his command echoed off the wooden walls of Dragonsreach. The court once again went silent.

“Now…” Ulfric said, straightening out his tunic. “You will give your support to us?”

“I… I will,” Balgruuf sighed. “This city, Riverwood, Rorikstead… we will support your side of this conflict… we need the help, Ulfric…”

“Hold your head up, Balgruuf,” Ulfric shook his head. “Your groveling is unnecessary…”

“Apparently, it is …” Balgruuf said. “Would you have aided us if I had not called you here? If I had kept the hold neutral?”

Ulfric sighed. “Don’t take my decision personally, old man… Your determination to stay neutral was admirable, but I did not have resources to just hand out. Whatever I have, it goes to the people who stand with me. That is war, Balgruuf. A hard decision it was to make, but one that is necessary…”

Ulfric shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. “I did not want this for you, nor your sons, nor your hold. What I wanted was for you to see the path the Empire was walking before… before any of this happened.”

“Well, it has happened,” Balgruuf said remorsefully. “So, what would you demand of us? In exchange for your help?”

Ulfric glanced around at the sunken faces of his court and said. “That’s a matter that I can save until after Whiterun is restored. When your people are strong enough to hold their swords again, then we can discuss what we will need from you.”

“How generous of you…” Nelkir muttered.

“This is not generosity… this our duty. Our obligation. To protect the sons and daughters of Skyrim, to give shelter to those that the Empire has wronged…” Ulfric said.

Galmar nearly snorted at this remark. As much as he respected Ulfric, he never would pass an opportunity for a hot-aired speech.

Ulfric, meanwhile, extended his hand outward. “And so from this day onward, let that obligation extend out to the people of Whiterun.”

Balgruuf looked down at his hand and grasped it, and with a firm shake, the deal was made. The court cheered and clapped. It appeared for the moment, that they had something to hope for.

“I will begin mobilizing troops to Whiterun, once I return to Windhelm,” Ulfric said. “Your people will no longer fear the empire, nor go to bed hungry. I promise you that.”

Balgruuf smirked. “Then I’ll hold you to your word, Jarl Stormcloak…”

The two men shared a laugh. Galmar even approached and shook hands with the man, even though the disdain that Balgruff and Galmar shared for each other was still apparent. The court members hugged and danced and sang and toasted to the Jarl of Windhelm, and to the future prosperity of Whiterun.”

However, the celebration was short-lived. The double doors were soon knocked down from their hinges, blown off by some unseen force. They went flying towards the stairs, crashing into the wood and nearly crushing the guards there. The court stopped their merriment, gasping and backing away from the now open doors.

“You have made a grave mistake, Jarl Balgruuf,” They heard a voice say…

Moments Earlier….

Vordel peaked his head around the side of the general store and looked at the Whiterun marketplace. His red eyes were fixated on a man dressed in blue robes, going from stall to stall and “browsing” the inventory. The Dark Elf, however, knew that he was interested in none of it. He was here on business from corrupted Empire. This man was Jerod Verano. A pyromancer. A criminal. A murderer…

“You got eyes on him?” Kazrris asked, also poking his head around the corner.

“Yeah… he’s just looking around right now…” Vordel replied. “He’s waiting for his moment…”

“Think we can move in?”

“No… too many people around,” Vordel shook his head. “We need to cut him off when he’s isolated.”

“And how do you expect to get him isolated?” Kaz huffed. “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s midday in Skyrim’s most populated city…”

“I know, I know… But we have to wait,” Vordel murmured.

“Or, we could do what we’re supposed to do, and kill the rat bastard before he actually kills someone….” Kaz insisted.

“Sure, you head out there and brazenly murder him in the middle of the market place and tell everyone you did it because he might have killed someone. Expose us while you’re at it…” Vordel growled. “Have a little patience, would you?”

“I’ve been patient! All we do is track and track and track and track and then stand here dumbfounded as he gets away!” Kaz barked. “When are we going to make a move, Sir Hides-A-Lot?”

Vordel rolled his eyes and turned his attention back onto the man in the marketplace, who was now heading towards Gildegreen. “He’s moving… let’s go…”

The Dark Elf began to lead his compatriot through the back alleys and behind the buildings of Whiterun, towards the massive tree in the center of town.

“Remind me again why we can’t just… walk through the streets like normal people?” Kaz asked.

“He’ll get suspicious if he sees two people in armor and armed to the teeth looking at him,” Vordel said. “I don’t want to spook him… we’ll lose him if we do that.”

“I could have him in a minute if you just let me go out there and-“

“Get us caught,” Vordel finished his sentence for him. “Kaz, you don’t seem to understand that getting us exposed and letting the world know there’s a team of powered-up freaks like us running amok and trying to serve justice outside the law… that’s not going to go over well.”

“What are they gonna do? Storm the castle?” Kaz laughed.

“That’s a plausible outcome, so if you would please-“

“Guys!” A voice directly above them hissed. Kaz jumped back, startled, drawing his daggers and pointing them at the roof.

It was no threat to him, however. On the roof was a wood elf dressed in light armor made from presumably the fur of a saber cat, leaning over the side and glaring down at the both of them.

“Have you two been keeping eyes on Verano or have you been here arguing the whole time?" Denon frowned.

“We’ve been keeping tabs on the Pyromancer,” Vordel spoke. “You’re supposed to be keeping an eye out at Dragonsreach. Why are you here?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” Denon said. “It’s… Ulfric Stormcloak.”

“What about him?”

“He’s here. In Dragonsreach. The Jarl’s personal guard escorted him up to the building not too long ago.”

The Dark Elf was taken aback by this revelation. “Why?”

“I don’t know… my only guess is that he’s here to talk with Balgruuf about something,” Denon said. “He was cloaked and hooded when he came into the city.”

“Balgruuf must be handing over the city,” Kaz figured, putting the daggers away. “Where’s Utahsi?”

“He’s still waiting out near the palace…” Denon said. “Keeping an eye on the place.”

“This… this doesn’t make any sense,” Vordel finally said. “How did the leader of the damn rebellion manage to sneak through enemy lines and into the city?”

“I don’t know,” Denon shrugged, before it suddenly dawned on him. “You… you think they knew he was coming?”

“I think I know why the Empire sent Verano here…” Vordel tightened his fist. “Quickly, now, we need to get to Dragonsreach before-“

As he was saying this, a loud explosion went off near the aforementioned keep, causing people in the marketplace to scream and panic. They scurried for cover as a column of smoke began to rise over Dragonsreach.

“Goddammit…” He uttered. “Denon, get up there now! Me and Kaz will meet you up there.”

“Aye,” Denon nodded, rising up and beginning his run across the rooftops, back up to Dragonsreach.

“I told you we should have tailed him through the market!”

“Shut up, Kaz.”

-

Verano ascended the stairs, his eyes locked firmly on Ulfric and the starved Jarl next to him. There was a circle of flames underneath his feet as he floated through the air.

“All you had to do was listen to Emperor Motierre… but you insisted on preserving your pride above all else,” Verano declared, the flames around him growing brighter. “Your ego has doomed your city, and your hold.”

Jarl Balgruuf did not utter a word towards this invader. He instead backed up towards his throne, his hand shakily reaching for his blade.

“And you,” Verano turned his attention to Ulfric Stormcloak. “You have the audacity to think that you could just walk through Imperial lands and get away with it? Does your insolence know no bounds?”

“These are not your lands, pyromancer,” Ulfric responded, drawing his axe. “These lands belong to the sons and daughters of-“

“Yes yes, your precious sons and daughters of Skyrim. I’ve heard that speech before,” Verano rolled his eyes. “If any of your followers had a brain in their head, they would have realized by now that you had exhausted all of your catchphrases a long time ago… but luckily for you, thinking is not their strong suit, is it?”

Verano was slowly inching closer and closer to the throne now, the flames lightly brushing against the table and causing the court’s members to gasp. “All of these Nords that you claim to be protecting… sent out to die in a senseless struggle, while you sit inside and cozy up to a cowardly Jarl…

“And what of your ruler?” Ulfric shot back. “Sending waves upon waves of Imperials to die in some vain attempt to subjugate those who will not be subjugated?”

“Oh, you will be subjugated, Stormcloak… you and all of your traitors…”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Yes. And I will show you,” Verano retorted, glancing around at all of the sunken faces that were staring at him in terror. “Surrender, or with Azura as my witness, I’ll burn this entire court and scatter their ashes to the planes.”

Ulfric slowly stepped down from the throne, holding the axe’s blade towards Verano. “This has nothing to do with them, Dark Elf.”

“It has quite a bit to do with them, actually,” Verano replied. “Will you repeat Balgruuf’s mistake and allow your pride to be put in front of your supposed ‘duty’ to your people.”

Ulfric did not budge.

“So be it…” Verano growled. Suddenly, fire sprung to life in his hands and he threw a fireball towards the Jarls children.

Nelkir ducked for cover, but he was not quick enough to avoid the fireball. It seemingly collided with his body, sending flames spiraling through the air as he cried out in panic.

“No!” Balgruuf leapt into action, running towards his family. “Nelkir! Nelkir!” He cried out.

When the smoke and fire began to clear, however, he could see that Nelkir was unharmed. The boy looked up from his cowering, feeling around to ensure that he was still in one piece. In front of him was someone he did not recognize. An Argonian, judging by the reptilian tale. He had put a ward in front of him, and the fireball had instead made contact with that.

Every on the court was now focused on this new arrival. Including Verano.

“You know, the last time I fought an elf that wanted to destroy a bunch of nords… it didn’t go very well for him,” Utahsi said, continuing to hold up the ward.

Verano frowned for a moment before his lips curled into a slight grin. “You are bold, Argonian... but your pathetic wards will not aid you,” Verano said, launching another fireball at the lizard. Once again, the fireball exploded on contact, causing the crowd to gasp once more and get out of the way of the fire.

The ward had not broken yet, but the force of the spell caused Utahsi to unwillingly slide back a few feet across the wood, leaving some tread marks from his boots on the ground. The ward faltered ever so slightly.

“Fus!” A sudden burst of power came from Jarl Ulfric, colliding with Verano and sending him flying down the stairs, cursing all the way down.

“Thank you…” Utahsi nodded to Ulfric, dispelling the war and pointing towards the stares behind the throne. “Everyone! Get to the balcony upstairs! I’ll distract the pyromancer! Go, go!” He barked.

Nobody was in any position to argue with him. Jarl Balgruuf ran towards the stairs, ushering his court members and family up them. Ulfric, however, was not following them. He stood his ground, waiting for Verano to come back.

“Who are you, Argonian?” Galmar asked, loyally standing by the side of his leader.

“Oh, you know… a mage,” Utahsi awkwardly replied. His best attempt to keep his true nature a secret was not much of an attempt.

The conversation was interrupted by a fireball nearly hitting Utahsi, but just barely missing his snout. The lizard jumped back in panic as the flames struck one of the banners of Whiterun, lighting it ablaze. Utahsi quickly put it out with a blast of ice.

“I’m not so easily disposed of!” Verano cried, already back to the top of the stairs. “Once I’ve finished you three, all of Whiterun will burn! Do you hear me?!”

“Empty threats,” Ulfric sneered. “Do your worst, Legion fool!”

Verano took him up on his challenge, and unleashed a beam of fire directly at the Jarl of Windhelm. Uflric rolled out of the way in time and took off around the edge of the room while Verano directed his attack to follow him. The fire remained on Ulfric’s heels, nipping at the soles of his boots, until Utahsi leapt across the tables and tackled the mage, sending both he and Verano rolling back down the stairs.

Verano managed to stop his descent, using the propulsion of his fire spell to halt his momentum and to float back to an upright position. Utahsi, meanwhile, rolled all the way down and skidded across the rug, letting out a painful groan when he finally stopped

“Was that your best move?” Verano taunted. “You thought you could bring me down with a barbaric move like that? Jerod Verano, they greatest mage in all of tamriel... and you thought to just wrestle me down a flight of stairs?”

Utahsi coughed, slowly rolling over and trying to make it back to his feet. Pain was shooting up and down his back. “Well it… bought us some time…” He wheezed.

“But you are out of time now, Lizard,” Verano cackled, charging up another spell to wipe this pathetic being off the face of Nirn.

Just then, however, Verano looked up to see three more men running across the bridge to Dragonsreach. A Dark Elf, Khajiit, and Bosmer. Their weapons were drawn and aimed at him.

“Back away from the Lizard, creep!” Kaz hollered at Verano. “Now!”

“Oh, so you have back up,” Verano grunted. “Who are you people?”

“A traveling circus!” Kaz answered, drawing his kunai's. “We’ve come to entertain! Would you like to see the magic trick where I make this kunai suddenly appear in your eye?”

Verano chuckled a little bit. “No… I’d rather see you dance!” He spat, before unleashing a flurry of fire at the incoming warriors. The trio jumped and rolled out of harms way, leaving a trail of scorch marks on the bridge

“You’re outnumbered!” Vordel called up to him, pulling his axe free. “Give up!”

Verano laughed. “You are so-“

Ulfric Stormcloak had re-entered the fight, leaping off the top of the stair case and landing on Verano’s back. The Nord wrapped his arms around Verano’s neck and head and began to squeeze down, restricting his breathing.

Verano coughed and gasped as he went spiraling down to the floor, taking the Jarl with him. He reversed his body midair, however, and Ulfric took the brunt of the damage. Air flew out of his lungs as he grabbed for his ribs. More than a few of them were probably cracked from the impact.

The mage stood back up to finish his work, but Vordel ran in and grabbed him, running with him over his shoulder and slamming him into the wall. Now it was Verano who was out of breath as Vordel some vicious punches into the man’s jaw. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…

“Stop!” Verano cried through his fractured jaw, some blood dribbling out of his mouth. “Shtop.. I gihve up!....”

Vordel glared down at the man, breathing heavily from his assault. He took in a deep breath through his nose and wiped some of the blood from his fist on the man’s shirt. “Smart move,” Vordel tapped his cheek, causing Verano to groan.

“Alright… Utahsi, can you stand?” Vordel asked, turning around.

“Think so…” The Argonian wheezed, staggering to his feet. “Stairs… they hurt,” He commented.

“Aye,” Vordel said, motioning to the three of them. “Take the Jarl upstairs. Check on the-“

Vordel was cut off by a blast of fire propelling him across the room and through the wooden walls of Dragonsreach and down into the pool surrounding the keep.

“Vord!” Kaz cried, rushing to the hole in the wall, but his path was cut off by another stream of Veran’s fire.

“Damn… foolsh!” Verano cried through his broken jaw, which hung slightly agape now. “I’ll… parade your ashesh… shthrough the streetsh of Whiterhun!” He spat blood across the rug.

Kaz glanced down the hole and back to Verano. “Man, you have no clue what you just did…”

“Oh, what… worried that khilled your friend?” Verano asked, unable to grin.

Kaz, however, laughed. “No… I’m worried what he’s going to do to you now.”

“Huh?”

Vordel exploded back through the wooden hole in the wall, sending wooden shards everywhere and letting forth a roar that shook the foundations of the keep. Vordel was now sporting a different look than when he had gone through the whole. A new set of arms had sprouted out of his body, and his teeth were sharper and much more jagged. He appeared to be much taller now, as well, towering over everyone in the room.

Verano fell to the floor, terrified of this new abomination, and Vordel pounced on the poor mage and pummeled him into a blood corpse. Every inch of Verano’s body was bruised and bloodied as Vordel scratched, clawed, punched, and ripped through his flesh and bones.

“Vord…” Denon cautiously approached him after it looked like Verano’s screams ceased and Vordel continued to beat on his unconscious body. “Vord!”

“What?!” Vordel snapped, locking eyes with the Wood Elf. His torso and arms were soaked in Verano’s blood.

“I… I think you got him…” Denon said soothingly. “Take it easy… it’s over…”

Vordel breathed heavily and glanced back down at the Imperial battlemage. With a grunt, he got off of the man’s body. He wasn’t dead yet… beaten and probably scarred for life, yes, but not dead.

“Way to go, team!” Kaz cheered facetiously. “We did it!... Lot of property damage and lot of blood, but we did it!”

“I’m sorry…” Utahsi muttered, holding his back. “I could have handled him in here before he started scorching everything… Didn’t he think he’d go mad like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Utahsi, I’m sure you did your best,” Denon shrugged. “Besides, no one died and wood can be repaired… I call that a victory.”

Over on the other side of the room, Galmar had come down the steps in the confusion, and helped Ulfric to his feet. His ribs were in quite a bit of pain, but his focus was on the group of warriors in front of them. He wordlessly stared them down, not out of fear or anger, but curiosity. Just who were these men who had come from nowhere and helped him

Vordel glanced up at Ulfric as well, as well as the rest of the heroes, and atmosphere grew extremely quiet.

“What… are you?” Ulfric asked Vordel.

“Kaz, get us out of here,” Vordel responded

“Oh, come on, we just saved his life!” Kaz protested. “Let me savor this a little, eh? I’m just-

“Now!” Vordel boomed.

“Alright, alright… jeez… Nice meeting you guys!” Kaz waved to them, before all of them disappeared into thin air via a cloud of smoke. No trace was left of the warriors.

“Wait!” Ulfric called, but they were already gone. The Nord stamped his foot in frustration, now that he had no answers. “Ysmir’s beard… Galmar, finish of this whelp,”

Galmar nodded, taking his axe and quickly driving it through the skull of the unmoving Verano. He would no longer be terrorizing anyone in the name of the Empire.

“I don’t mean to be thinking too far ahead, Ulfric… but this will go a long way to the cause,” Galmar said, pulling his axe from his skull and wiping the blood away. “Another failed imperial attack, another heroic deed from the fighting men and women of the Stormcloak army… Another batch of soldiers on their way to Windhelm…”

Ulfric wasn’t listening, he was focused on an object that had caught his eye in the glare of the sun. A medallion, lying where the Argonian had landed. It seemed it had fell out of his pocket when he landed. It was a smooth silver item, with the image of an eagle cared into the front of it.

“Ulfric?” Galmar asked as the Jarl picked up the pendant. “What are you thinking?”

Ulfric looked over the medallion, before glancing up at his comrade. “I’m thinking we may have a new ally in this fight.”

“Hmph… you’re going to start looking for them aren’t you,” Galmar chuckled. “Do you have any idea who they are, where they are, or why they would help us?”

“No…” Ulfric took one last look at the medallion. “But I intend to find out.”

To Be Continued in Age of Heroes!