Sofie snores gently in her sleep as she rides on my back through the quiet streets. The guards open the palace door for me and I thank them as I step through. When I enter the war room, Stormblade Galmar and Ulfric are already there waiting for me, along with another Stormblade, clad in armor identical to Galmar's. Ulfric nods to him.
"Take the girl up to her room." he mumbles. The man stumbles forward and awkwardly takes Sofie in his arms; I doubt anyone told him this would be one of his duties when he was promoted.
"Have you gentlemen been waiting for me? I apologize for the delay." I tell them.
"We were just discussing battle strategy for tomorrow. We were wondering if you had any suggestions, Dragonborn." Stormblade Galmar says. I grimace; I never imagined it to be a title.
"Unblooded, thank you. What's the plan?" I correct him. The Stormblade shrugs it off.
He walks me through the plan; I'll be deployed on the front lines, hopefully to inspire the other inexperienced Unblooded alongside me. The drawbridge next to the main gate will more than likely be shut; my job is to find a way over the gate and to pull the release lever so that the other regiments can get through. The front regiment will remain behind to look out for any Legion reinforcements, while the second and third regiments will continue into the city. The second will take care of the guards and soldiers in the streets while also guarding the third regiment behind them. Once a path through the city is cleared, Stormblade Galmar and the commanding officers of the third regiment will make their way into Dragonsreach to receive Jarl Balgruuf's surrender. What happens from there is uncertain.
"Are we clear on that, Unblooded?" The Stormblade asks.
"Crystal." I reply, my voice strained.
"What is the problem, Nova?" Ulfric says gently. I look up at him, breaking my gaze from the map; The Stormblade gives me a suspicious look, one I'm quite accustomed to by now. I sigh deeply.
"Ulfric, I was born in Rorikstead. Before I came to Windhelm, I was living in Whiterun with the Companions. Whiterun is my home, I couldn't bear to see it sacked and destroyed by this war. Would it be too much to ask that the soldiers do as little damage to the city and its inhabitants as possible?" I ask carefully. Stormblade Galmar rolls his eyes.
"Of course not, Nova. Whiterun is a very important city to Skyrim, we'd never survive after the war without it. They've been instructed to only attack guards and Legion soldiers, and to stay out of all of the homes and businesses until we've taken the city. Just to be safe though, I'll be sure to tell them again." He tells me.
"Even then though, you can't expect to bring a battle into the city gates and the city to go by unscathed. Though unintentional on our part, there will be physical damage." The Stormblade says with his arms solemnly crossed. Ulfric widens his eyes and shakes his head at him, but Stormblade Galmar dutifully ignores him.
"Nova, I promise you Whiterun will survive this war." he tells me, looking me in the eye.
"However, we can't promise anything for that traitor Balgruuf, now can we?" Stormblade Galmar says with a smirk.
"No executions, Galmar. We've been over this."
"Ah, but why? You'd love to see his head roll as much as I would." Stormblade Galmar whines.
"No, Galmar. You know why." He warns him.
"Alright, alright... Here's something I'd like to discuss. Novariana is the Dragonborn of legend, and she's on our side. It changes things." The Stormblade says. This time, Ulfric is the one to roll his eyes.
"Believe it or not, Nova, Galmar actually agreed with your assessment that telling the world that the Dragonborn is with us would be beneficial to our cause." Ulfric sighs.
"And you're still not convinced?" I ask.
"What I'm not convinced about it whether it would be beneficial to you." Ulfric says. "I wanted to wait for your explicit permission—"
"You have it. Tell all your soldiers; write a letter to General Tullius yourself, if it pleases you. Just make sure they know it does not change my rank. I'm not handing out orders to anyone." I insist.
"Agreed." Says the Stormblade.
~
I arrive at the camp early in the morning, two days later. Everyone is asleep, everyone but Stormblade Galmar, of course; I don't think he sleeps. The camp has been set up in an empty field behind the farm outside Whiterun where I first reunited with Aela. I step into Stormblade Galmar's tent, and it appears he's drawn out a map of the city.
"Reporting in, Stormblade." I say as I remove my helmet.
"Unblooded. I've been working on finding a way to get you past the front gate; Skyrim can't afford to lose you in this battle. I had another Unblooded scout out the area, and he found a small path that goes over the wall and directly to the walkway over the drawbridge, where you'll find the release lever. I can't promise that the Imperials won't try to stop you, but hopefully they won't give you much trouble." He explains.
"Oh no, they won't be a problem. Are the others prepared?" I ask.
"I hope so. I worry, Ulfric has placed all of the newest recruits on the front lines. These are all Unblooded, young men and women who've never known life away from the farm or the city walls, think war is a game. He put all of our Great War veterans in the second regiment. Won't be getting much sleep tonight. I hope he knows what he's doing." He sighs.
"Get some rest, Galmar. It'd be good for you." I tell him as I exit the tent, eager to find some breakfast.
"That's Stormblade to you." He says half-heartedly over his shoulder.
~
"Up! Everyone up! Now! We're under attack!"
I wake up to the entire camp in a panic. People are running all around me, and in the center of the camp a flaming boulder is wrecked into a tent, with two men crushed beneath it. Everyone is shouting orders and trying to get the attention of the others.
"Hey! Hey!" I shout. No one hears me, and another boulder crashes into the ground a few feet away from our camp. Galmar is shouting orders too now, spit flying out of his teeth and a vein popping out of his neck. I'm shouting too now, and I'm so frustrated I just say the first thing that comes to mind.
"Fus!"
This single word makes the ground shudder, and the entire crowd of soldiers stumbles backward, some fall to the ground and slide on the dew covered grass. They've all gone silent, but one whispers in the morning quiet:
"Dragonborn..."
This is the Thu'um; The Voice. I read about it in the book Danica gave me; the language of the dragons. It takes most humans or mer most of their lives to learn how to use it, but the Dragonborn can learn it easily; knows it instinctually even.
There's no time to lose.
"The empire has made the first blow. First regiment assemble by the road! We're taking the city now!" I shout. They all cry out and raise their weapons in response, and a portion of them head for the road. Galmar grabs my shoulder tightly.
"You, with me! Help me lead them!" He cries out over all of the noise. I nod and run with him to the group waiting by the road. We run out in front of the group and they all draw their weapons.
"This is it men! They say that our cause is false and that we are nothing more than thieves, thugs and murderers! But no! We are farmers! We are craftsmen! We are sons and daughters of shopkeepers, maid servants and soldiers! We are the sons and daughters of Skyrim! And we have come this far because our cause is true. Because we fight as one. And because our hearts are bursting with anger! What we do here today, we do for our country! For all the true Nords of Skyrim! Whiterun's walls are tall, but they are old and crumbling, like the Empire whose Legion lines them. They've barricades to block us, but we'll tear through them and the Imperials behind them! Our objective is the drawbridge. If we can find a way to drop it, the city will be ours! Everyone on me. Let's show these Imperial milk drinkers what true Nords look like!" He shouts. They scream back to him and he draws his battleaxe, motioning towards the city, it's silhouette barely visible through the smoke. Without warning, he charges for the gate, and we stumble after him.
The catapults on the other side of Whiterun are kept busy, and soon enough the smoke and fire is all around us. We weren't expecting this, it'll be a minor setback. After a moment I see the stables, and up ahead Galmar is beating away at the barricade built out of tree branches in front of the first archway into the city. I point him out to the troops and run to help him. I bring my sword down and break the branch holding the whole thing together. A moment later, an arrow whistles and scrapes the edge of my ear. I look up and see a Whiterun guard loading another arrow into his bow. I jump over the shambles of the barricade and swing at him, knocking the bow out of his hand and splitting his throat open, the red mixing with his gold uniform. I turn and see five legion soldiers standing on top of the archway with their bows loaded and pointed at me; they used the man as bait. My anger burns hotter and louder than ever, but only one word comes to mind;
"Fus!"
The impact of the shout forces them backward into the air. Three are killed when they hit the ground, and the two that survived are swallowed by the crowd of Stormcloaks that are quickly advancing. I turn and see more Imperials racing towards me, but the rest of the Stormcloaks overtake them.
I look around for the pathway over the wall that Galmar told me about, disoriented by the heat of the flames and the people running and shouting all around me. Suddenly I see it, a small tower built onto the wall, and next to it a ledge leading directly to the walkway over the drawbridge. I run up the ramp and into the tower, cutting down another guard as I do. When I reach the ledge, I realize something terribly ironic; I'm not quite tall enough to reach it. I swear and look around for another soldier who is, but it's pointless, no one else knows where the lever is. In the crowd I see Ralof, struggling to kill a Whiterun guard. I jump down to stab the guard through his back and I see his blood splatter on Ralof's face and armor. He recoils in horror.
"Ralof! I need your help! Quickly now!" I shout at him. He blinks quickly and looks around distractedly, then runs with me.
"What is it?"
"I need you to help me get up on this ledge. I'm too short, I can't reach it. Trust me, it's important." I explain as I throw my sword up onto the ledge. I expect him to laugh, but he doesn't. He bends down behind me and hugs my thighs, propelling me up onto the ledge. I dig my hands into the dirt and claw my way up, kicking Ralof in the head in the process; I'll have to apologize later. I jump to my feet and pick up my sword, dodging a few arrows from the Imperials standing on the walkway. I realize I've lost my helmet; I must've left it back at the camp somewhere and forgotten it in the chaos. I run carefully across the narrow ledge and drop onto the walkway. Aela would have a fit if she saw how terrible these archers are; have they not trained at all?
As I'm knocking each of them off the walkway, something occurs to me. General Tullius has sent his newest, least valuable soldiers he has. He's failed to realize the strength of Ulfric's forces, and I think he's also failed to realize that he has a full-scale rebellion on his hands. That, or his own forces are spread too thin. Perhaps it's the Emperor that doesn't see how dire his situation is?
As I grab the release lever on the drawbridge, Galmar looks up at me. His face is covered in sweat and splattered blood, but strangely enough, he smiles up at me as I force it down and the drawbridge crashes to the ground in front of him.
Fan art credits go to http://ezhovs.deviantart.com/art/The-battle-for-Whiterun-285428114