Open Reforging an Empire

[Simus]

Vignar and Simus listened to the difference of opinion over Simus becoming High King. They both knew Simus wasn't the right man for the job so they were happy to hear Arillious agreed with them.

"I'm inclined to agree with you young man." Vignar said, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name. Balgruuf is the best choice to rule Skyrim. He may not accept the offer from Simus and I though, since we were directly responsable for chasing him out of Whiterun when we took the city. That man's slow to forgive trechery. I'm pretty sure he's planning to have his houscarl kill us in our sleep."

"Not while I draw breath." Alice said.

"I agree with both of you." Simus said. "Balgruuf is the best choice. He's still alive and he's still at the Blue Palace with all the other deposed Jarls. Ulfric isn't sure what to do with them, so he's kept them there under house arrest until I figure something out for him. Something I want you to know about Balgruuf though: He's a good man and I've always respected him. Problem is, he's in no hurry to forgive us. You see, after the Dragonborn disappeared Balgruuf made me his new thane. I even got Breezhome to serve as a roof over my head and Lydia, the Dragonborn's former houscarl. When the Stormcloaks were ready to siege Whiterun, I delivered Ulfric's ultimadum to Balgruuf. I beseeched him to join our cause, try to push him our way, but he sided with the Empire and told me to bring a letter back to Ulfric. He practically dared us to attack Whiterun and when we won, Balgruuf called me a traitor. We've only spoken once since then and it was not a pretty conversation. Honestly in his eyes I'm no better than Ulfric: I think he called me Ulfric's Imperial lapdog the last time we talked. My point is, in order for Balgruuf to help us, he's going to have to let go of his grudges and he's a stubborn old Nord.

Alright, I'm done talking about this. Vignar, I think this concludes our meeting."

"Alright everyone" Vignar said "We're done talkin' business. Any of you wanna stick around to stuff your faces and get drunk that's fine. Otherwise, we meet back here at eight tomorrow morning. We'll have breakfast for you, but don't eat too much: you're all going to Legion training."

 

[JBar2531]

"Cool, Im getting hammered." Titus opened up a fresh bottle of mead and began to drink. "Ah this stuffs good. Where are we going to train? Cant really train an army in secret. Well ya can, but its gonna be hard."

 

[Simus]

Simus sat down across from Titus and opened a bottle of mead with him.

"Don't worry about that." He said. "Below us, there are several drauger burial chambers large enough to accommodate our needs. They've been cleared out and repurposed into training facilites. As a matter of fact, the ancient Nords built them for that very purpose, back when the Dwemer and the Snow Elves ruled Skyrim and they were in the minority. These old sites only became the burial chambes we know today after Ysgrimmor's successors conquered Skyrim and no longer needed such secret facilities."

Simus took a sip of his mead.

"We have a large amount of Legion wargear stocked in these chambers and we'll all be using it to train tomorrow. Much of it was "liberated" during the war and we've stocked it up in case of emergency. I figure it's time to put it to good use."

 

[JBar2531]

"Ah clever. Did you ever think this day would come? The day you would fight against Ulfric, instead of beside him?" Titus sippedhis mead. " You dont have to answer that if it offends you at all. Im just curious."
Titus grabbed a piece of bread and started to eat it.
"Also do you mind if I stay here tonight? I dont enough septims to rent a room at the Inn."

 

[Simus]

Simus took a forkfull of beef into his mouth, chewing it thoughfully as he considered Titus' question. It didn't exatly pinch a nerve, but it was on a subject Simus didn't like to think about.

"No, it's fine." Simus said, his eyes turning sad. "Ulfric and I...well, we were...very close. I've known the man since the Great War. He, Galmar Stone-Fist and I all met at Red Ring Road, just prior to The Emperor's campaign to retake the Imperial City. Needless to say, we all survived the war and we became fast friends. We were all angry about that damn treaty The Emperor signed with the Aldmeri Dominion, but we were all ready for peace so we decided to live with it. Some had an easier time with it than others. They headed home to Skyrim, I stayed in Cyrodiil to get married and start a family. A couple of years ago, after the Thalmor...evicted us to Skyrim, Ulfric welcomed Alice and I with open arms. The four of us, including Galmar, all became one big happy family and I did the best I could to mold Ulfric into the best Jarl Skyrim has ever seen. Needless to say, I failed. Ulfric's always been prould, even arrogant, and he throws a fit when he doesn't get his way. Honestly Titus, I worried about something like this rebellion happening ever since I joined the Stormcloaks. I just prayed it never would."

Simus wiped his mouth with a napkin, descreetly wiping a tear from his eye.

"Sorry." He said to Titus. "Didn't mean to ramble. And you can stay with Alice and I, so long as you don't mind sleeping on the couch by the fire."

 

[Alexstrasza]

Alex placed down the goblet, the meeting was over and she would want rest.

"If you require me, I have a room at the tavern."

She slid her katana into her sash and walked towards the door. She slipped through and followed the lit torches through the endless maze of the Hall of The Dead. A few minutes of wallking eventually led to the large double doors leading to Whiterun's graveyard. She peered outside, the moon was high in the sky and the unnatural quietness of night had set in.

Alex walked slowly, her red hair flowing behind her as she walked quickly to the dim lights of tavern. She opened the door and walked inside. It was surprisingly quiet for this time of night but it was better then screaming, drunken men.

"My name is LaRouche, I ordered a room earlier."

The sleepy man behind the counter looked up at her and then down at his book.

"Hmm..Yup, here it is, Room 2."

He handed her a large brass key and pointed towards the stairs. Alex grabbed the key with a word and went up the creaking stairs and into the room. It was a a medium sized room, a large 4 post bed, two dressers and a table with a dim lit candle flickering away. Alex placed the katana against the bed and slipped out of her haori and kimono. Blowing out the candle, she laid underneath the covers and got rest for the next day.

 

[Linamina]

Eilene stood and decided to be the night watch, stepping outside and climbing nimbly towards the roof of the hall of arkay to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. She was almost invisible in the night sky and is a night person to begin with for obvious reasons. At least, obvious to her. Either way sleep was a chore due to her cursed blood always disturbing her dreams.

She loved how perfect the weather seemed in Whiterun. Not too cold and not to warm, at least when the air was still. The breezes coming from the north always made her shiver. She wrapped up tighter in the thick cloak and watched below like a gargoyle.

 

[JBar2531]

"No I dont mind. And you were just answering my question not rambling. I never liked the Thalmor either. They are so full of themselfs, always putting people down."
Titus decided to stop the Thalmor discusion there. He realized it was a touchy subject for Simus.
"Umm... Sorry."
Titus looked down at the table, then grabbed a plate of venison and started to eat.
"Im such an idiot, lets hope Simus doesnt go crazy on me for bringing up bad memories." Titus thought to himself.

 

[Gunnbjorn]

Arillious stared as Titus asked question on question to Simus.

He wanted to go and sleep, but he had only just woken up. It would take a long dedicated day of training to get him back on his sleeping schedule.

"It's weird... Throughout the war, I've always looked at Ulfric as just a leader that gave orders. I've never really thought of his capabilities as a warrior until now. He is at a great advantage with his thu'um. It would be quite a joy to watch him, let alone fight him. "

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Nachael stood up and walked out of the Hall of the Dead. His head was buzzing with excitement at the prospect of this rebellion. But he knew he would need rest for tomorrow. As he walked through the residential district, heading for the inn, he saw a Redguard walking into his house. Nachael ran up and asked, "Do you have a spare room I could rent?"

"Excuse me?"

Nachael repeated his question.

"Well, would an attic room suffice?" Nachael nodded. "Then come right in, kinsman. I'm Amren."

"I'm Nachael. I'm sorry if I'm burdening you, but the inn was full when I checked this afternoon and I felt more comfortable asking a fellow Redguard." Amren said that Nachael was no burden, and he understood Nachael's preference of him over the Nords' inn. In the house, Amren introduced his wife, then showed Nachael the attic room. It was small, but better than a bedroll and tent in the middle of a sandstorm in the Alik'r, that fact he could not deny.

Before Nachael headed into his room for the night, Amren remarked that he had ought to watch his back in Skyrim; he himself had almost been run out of the city by guards, and the respect some of the citizens held for his past as a warrior was his only redeeming quality in this land.

"I'm sure things will get better soon. Thank you again, and goodnight."

 

[meben15]

Darkness was prevalent in the streets of whiterun that night, and not just because of the lack of Magnus's light shining in the sky. There was a darkness in the soil, Raylen could feel it. A darkness in the eyes of the people. Ever since Ulfric took over the Nords had grown further and further away from their fellow citizens. Imperials, Redguards, Bosmer, and especially Dunmer and the Beastfolk who had lived in skyrim for generations were now being viewed as outsiders. Raylen hated racism with a passion, it was what lead to many a war, and he hated war as well.

As the Breton battlemage walked slowly through the streets he felt the eyes of many Stormcloaks on him, all very cautious. They would not have payed him any mind at all if he was a Nord, but Breton, they were not to be trusted. Raylen likely wouldn't have even been in Whiterun right now, had it not been for the message he had recieved from an old friend, Eorlund Grey-Mane. The master smith had spoken briefly to him of a group unsatisfied with Ulfrics rule, and it gave Raylen a spark of hope, that maybe they could finally resolve the turmoil of this blasted country.

He sighed, wishing Lasira was with him now. She was the only thing that kept him fighting all these years, a hope that they might eventually have peace, and be freed from the Oppression of the Thalmor. It had not been as bad before the Civil war started, after the Second treaty of Stros-Mkai the Dominion had drawn back many of their troops to lick their wounds. But when Ulfric decided to start up his blasted rebellion, the Damned Thalmor hounds smelled a way to sow discord among the Empire and took it. Raylen berated himself over and over again for his blindness. Lasira and him had entered Skyrim just as the war was beginning to start, when Ulfric murdered the High-King. They had not participated in battle, but had covertly aided the Empire. But it seemed Ulfric was destined to succeed, and the gods were not the manipulators of the wars fate as some Nords wished to think. No, their 'salvation' came from a much much more unholy place. The Aldmeri Dominion itself.

Raylen remembered when he first learned the Dominion Assassins involvement in the killing of many Imperial officers and scouting patrols, but by then it was all to late. With insider information Ulfric was able to storm Solitude and Kill Tulius. That was when Raylen and Lasira had been separated. In the last portion of the battle, when it was clear Ulfric would become victorious, they had decided that it could not come to that. Raylen saw in Ulfric the same misguided and misdirected hatred he saw in another man many years ago. That man was now dead, but Ulfric was not. Lasira had come so close to killing him, but there were to many Stormcloaks. Both of them had been forced to make separate escapes, and he had not seen her since.

Closing his eyes he stopped for a second, uttering a silent prayer to Akatosh that she was not dead. He had to keep believing that, because if she was he would have nothing left to live for. Then he snapped himself out of it, Raylen focus. You must concentrate on the task at hand, don't lose yourself in worry and regret. He straitened up to see that he had, in fact arrived at his destination, the Hall of the dead. Eorlund's message had said there would be a meeting here on this night.

Walking with silent feet the seasoned Battlemage opened the thick door into the undercroft. He instantly heard a rasp of steel on steel as he entered and held up his hand. A blinding bright light lit up the dark hall to reveal several Stormcloaks. "What are you doing here!" Said one, obviously startled by his presence, "Get out of here Citizen, or we will arrest you. There is nothing to see here, go away."

Raylen smiled at the mans hostility, "There is a meeting, yes?" At this the young soldier's face cleared, "Is that so? Well you know that so I guess you are supposed to be part of it. You are late though." He pointed down one of the hallways, "They are down that way."

Raylen thanked the man and walked down the passage. He quickly came to one of the burial chambers, set with a great table and lots of food and drink with many people about it, talking. Raylen recognized both Grey-Mane's and Battle-Borns, Imperials and Stormcloaks, at the table, and he smiled. The sight brought him hope that the two sides could forgive each other to fight a common enemy.

Stepping forward the rather Rugged looking Breton drew back his grey hood to reveal his short brown hair and beard, as well as the gleam of his ebony armor beneath his cloak. Eorlund spotted him then, and the old man stood, calling out across the hall, "Raylen! Raylen Varren! Its good to see you my friend, I am glad you could make it." Raylen gave the man a broad smile and approached the table, "Indeed Eorlund, I apologize for my tardyness. Have I missed all the discussion?"

Eorlund waved his hand and smiled, "It matters not my son, I am sure Simus can catch you up." He turned to the lead Stormcloak and said, "Simus, this is Raylen Varren. Raylen, this is Simus." Raylen nodded to the man, "Well met Simus."

 

[UnLonged]

Plans of strategy and talks of politics bounce upon the walls of the room - it would be sheer idiocy if the discussion were to be made in a different venue; the seemingly endless chambers of the catacombs help dampen the rebellious voices. Garrick could barely catch up to the exchange of thoughts by the more experienced people. His lack of knowledge on the subject and morality being the only basis of his decisions made the squire simply sit and watch.

Alex whispered to Garrick words of uncertainty, something Garrick is not unfamiliar with ever since he "joined" the meeting. "I don't know. And I think you meant 'you' as in me, not 'we' as in the both of us. I bet my bottom septim that you can handle yourself well when the fighting begins. Wish I could say the same for myself." whispered Garrick, feeling a bit shaky as he gains full realization of what they are up against.

After a few moments of arguments and countless deliberation, the meeting was adjourned with the main agenda - as understood by Garrick - being the reconciliation of Balgruuf with the rest of the group so as to have a suitable High King once Ulfric is dethroned. And with that, most of the people inside the chamber left one by one, leaving Garrick stuck to his seat as he was still processing what was discussed. Snapping back to reality and gaining full realization that the meeting was over, Garrick grabbed his belongings and ran out of the chambers with haste.

Walking at night was a terrifying thought as the Stormcloaks issued a curfew, but that idea no longer houses itself in Garrick for he knows that the Stormcloaks within Whiterun are under Simus, one of the heads of the rebellion. Garrick opened the doors of the Bannered Mare, hoping to get a glimpse of the stranger earlier but instead saw Alex and a sleepy innkeeper. Garrick looked upon Alex as she walk up the stairs to her room, her red hair dancing with every step she take. His eyes glowed with admiration for the lady and his inner man whistled and howled like a rabid wolf. A hand suddenly struck his face, his own hand slapping him out of the perverse state of mind. Focus, Garrick. Discipline, Garrick! CONTROL, Garrick! he mused to himself after shaking his head silly and caressing his red cheek from the blow he delivered to himself.

"Good evening, sir. Is there a room available?" Garrick said to the innkeeper as he approach the counter. The drowsy man paged through his book, his yawns grow longer for every page he flips. "No vacancy, kid." Garrick placed his hand on his hair and messing it up more, expressing his dissatisfaction. "Come on, isn't there a room that is unoccupied?" The innkeeper gave him a look of irritation at his inquiry. "Look, kid. As much as I want to make you sleep here for the night, I can't. You can have the broom cupboard if you want." said the innkeeper and, after seeing a bedroll tied to Garrick's bag, added "Or, you could sleep on the floor." Garrick snarled at the man and took out his bedroll. "Fine. I won't pay you, though." Garrick placed his bedroll at the wall adjacent to the stairs, laying down on it still fully clothed. Man, 'joining a rebellion to fell Ulfric' was totally not part of this day's plan. I may have been a bit over my head this time, more so compared to the time when I snuck into a vampire's den or when I rode a mammoth. Garrick indulged himself in deep thought until finally falling asleep.

 

[Simus]

Simus got up from his chair and accepted the Breton man's handshake. "Well met Raylen. Any friend of Eorlunds is a friend of mine. You look like the soldier type. Are you with the Companions? The Legion maybe?"

Simus remembered the name Varren from the 5th Legion's commander during the Great War, General Varren. However, considering the general's rather grusome death at the hands of the Aldmeri Doninion after they took the Imperial City, he decided not to mention it. That was a long time ago and this man probably didn't want a stranger dredging up memories of his father.

Simus took a second to look around as he waited for Raylen's response. About half the members had left and the others were trickling out. The Battle-Borns had picked a quiet moment to leave without incident, so that was at least something. Alice was enjoying a piece of chicken and some alto wine, but he could see that she was getting tired. They had another little girl back at Breezhome they needed to get back to. Hopefully everyone else would leave soon and get some rest: Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

 

[meben15]

Raylen smiled and shook the mans hand, he seemed a respectable type, and was certainly brave, as he was leading this potential coupe of Ulfric and the Stormcloak regime. When Simus asked him if he was a soldier he nodded, "Yes, I served in the Legion. But that was a long time ago, I work mostly independently now with my partner..." He faded off as he realized that Lasira wasn't with him. He was so used to her being beside him for so many years, sure there was the ocasional time when duty separated them temporarily, but it was only usually for a month or so. He had not seen or heard from her now in three months.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he looked around him at the people dispersing, some going deeper into the halls to sleep, others leaving the way he had come in. He looked over to Simus and chuckled, "I guess I missed the party huh? Well allow my to formerly offer my services. It saddens me to see Skyrim in such a state. Ulfric has allowed his hate to cloud his judgement, I think, misdirected hate at that. I am glad some of his men have seen reason."

 

[arctic73]

Regulus stumbled out of the Bannered Mare. It had been a long, long night of drinking, and a short, short night of sleeping. He rubbed his eyes, and reread the encoded message from Thorald. It had been a while since the two met, way back when Reg fought for the Stormcloaks. Then Thorald was taken by the Thalmor, things got ugly, and Reg was part of the group that rescued him. Thorald taught Reg a special sort of code that they used to pass messages around the enemy. But that was another time. Apparently now Thorald was trying to take down Ulfric Stormcloak himself. Reg had never thought much of their "esteemed leader," but after the siege of Solitude he was assured Stormcloak was good. Apparently not.

Regulus shambled down the way, searching for the doors to the Hall of the Dead. That was where Thorald had said to go. Drinking as he went, Reg investigated the buildings until he found the entrance, and headed on in to the catacombs. After several uncomfortable encounters with Draugr corpses, he found a meeting area. Several people were present and talking amicably, including the Gray-Mane family. Reg walked to Thorald and said "Hey, Thor. Been too long. listen, I got your message, and I was hoping I could help. Shoot, did I miss all the fun already?" Thorald laughed and replied,"No my friend, you are not too late. Come, let me introduce you to the others. This is Simus. He's the reason we're all here. Simus, This is Regulus. He's a friend who wants to help."

 

[Simus]

(OOC: hey Arctic? Did you introduce yourself in the OOC thread and make a character card?)

 

[Simus]

Simus poured another glass of mead and offered it to Raylen. He liked this man: Perceptive, intelligent, sociable. He reminded Simus of another Breton he used to travel with, a young mage with a rebellious streak and sticky fingers, but that was almost a year ago. They hadn't seen each other since. Simus was also glad Raylen's judgment of Ulfric wasn't so harsh. That was a sign that he kept his mind open. He would need someone like that. He took a sip of mead and cleared his throat.

"Party's just begun." Simus began. "All you missed was the little meet n' greet before the main event. We're all meeting here at eight tomorrow. We've got a capable lot but they need organization, leadership, discipline. I'm giving them a crash course in fighting the Legion way. You wanna join us, be here on time tomorrow. It'll be just like going back to basic for you."

He put his glass down and looked the man in the eye.

"And you're wrong about Ulfric. His hate's not misdirected, it just consumes everything in its path. I've known the man for thirty years and he's no racist. That's just the image people have in their heads. Really, he doesn't care that foreigners live here in Skyrim so long as they contribute. The problem comes from him thinking that they're not his problem. While Ulfric himself isn't racist, many of his subordinate officers and men are, and he turns a blind eye to any 'justice' they might despense. There aren't as many racist Stormcloaks as people think. In fact they're a minority, but they're a large one and they're certainly the loudest of us. Galmar Stone-Fist and I have addressed this issue with Ulfric several times, but he's done nothing. The man is completely out of touch with his people: all he cares about is sitting up on his perch and looking noble. He really does want to build Skyrim into the land she once was and to take the fight to the Elves. He's even vowed to fight for the Empire when the Elves invade again, but he's closed his eyes to what his people are doing to make that happen. He's completely blind to anything other than the horizon. That's why Ulfric Stormcloak can't be High King."

Simus had more to say, but a conversation between Thorald Grey-Mane and a young mercenary caught his attention. Thorald introduced the young man as Regulus and then explained Simus' role in the rebellion. Simus offered a hadshake to the man, along with a polite smile.

"Welcome Regulus. I'm glad Thorald found another person to help us. My daughter and I rescued Thorald from the Thalmor at Northwatch Keep, with the help of Thorald's brother Avulstein and a few others. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think I recognize you from that battle. Were you part of our team? I'm sorry I don't remember you if you were. Lots of new faces, not much time to get aquainted before we stormed the castle, I hope you understand."

Simus continued to smile as he waited for the man's response. His earlier conversation with Titus regarding the Thalmor had dredged up some bad memores, but the current company had lifted his mood.

 

[Alexstrasza]

Alex heard grumbling from outside her door. Normally this time of night everyone is either too drunk or too tired to say anything. Lifting her head from the pilllow, she walked into the main room of the tavern. Looking around she saw the innkeeper out like a light in the book and the man from earlier, Garrick, who was sleeping uncomfortably on the floor.

"Garrick..?"

She leaned over next to him, shaking his shoulder gently. Totally obvious to the fact that all she was wearing were her chest bindings and silk trousers, she wore to sleep in.

 

[UnLonged]

Garrick moaned as he, somehow, slept on his bedroll - being the only thing that comforts him as he is against the cold wooden floor boards. A faint voice and nudge on the shoulder barely made the sleepy squire wake up. "Five more minutes." Garrick said in a grumble. The nudging continued as he is failed to be awaken on the first attempt. Garrick finally and barely got up with a messy bed hair despite only having a few minutes of rest.

Garrick opened his eyes a bit and saw Alex's face. "Alex? What time is it? Is the group training in sess-" Garrick was stopped in his inquiry as his now fully opened eyes saw a barely clothed Alex, her figure emphasizing her true female side. The squire's eye widened and his cheeks flushed - the color is imbalanced as his other cheek is still red from when he slapped himself. Garrick immediately looked away and turned his gaze upon the open fire, allowing it to distract himself as to not be tempted from looking upon Alex any further. Garrick cleared his throat and eventually spoke with a slightly nervous tone. "What is it? Do you ne-need something?"

 

[Alexstrasza]

Alex watched as Garrick groaned and finally lifted his head. His eyes grew wide with shock and turned away, his face was beet red. She looked down to see her chest bindings were visible, throwing an arm over the top, she lifted Garrick to his feet with her other.

"I have a spare bed in my room, if you wish to use it or if you wish you may continue sleeping on the wood. Your choice."

She turned around quickly and hastened to her room, a million thoughts ran threw her head, why did she forget her kimono was number one. Reached the door, she opened it and closed it slightly. She threw herself into the large bed and hid herself underneath the thick covers, hoping that sleep would rid her of her embarrassment.