Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 323: Chapter XLIX: Awaken, oh King!



Chapter 323: Chapter XLIX: Awaken, oh King!

Chapter 323: Chapter XLIX: Awaken, oh King!



(Reyvin's POV)

Leaving Davos to check on the troops one last time I entered a highly warded circular room in

the deepest basement of Tel Dagoth. It was a place which to the ignorant would seem completely empty save for the circular staircase in its center and the seemingly decorative arches which covered the entirety of the wall.

Naturally, it was anything but.

Many of the arches were connected to the numerous wayshrines I had constructed all over the province, allowing both my forces and I easy access to everyone's back yard on a moment's notice. The price of making them could politely be called ruinous but I felt that the rapid movement the expense allowed was well worth it, even if I could have probably financed an entire legion of automatons instead.

But then again, who said I couldn't do both?

My vaults were overflowing at this point and even with the very good salaries I provided my people they continued to fill seemingly without any intention of stopping anytime soon. Torygg and Titus wasted no time in recognizing my ownership of the previously thought to be uninhabitable land and the amount of resources and luxuries I was exporting through Winterhold had already led to the East Empire Company constructing a full outpost there and even had them financing the construction of a much larger dockyard.

Some of Torygg's Thanes, the two usual suspects no doubt, were rather annoyed by my choice of economic partner but Solitude was already ridiculously wealthy due to its new infrastructure which allowed the city to actually use the massive influx of population it drew in in the past decades and I did actually want to honor my vague alliance with Jarl Assur instead of just making the wealthiest city even more wealthy.

Repairing Winterhold to its past glory was also part of the reason, being that the current city was a mere third of what it once was and even then it was the poorer districts which survived.

A nice present for Tolfdir is how I justified it to myself.

Satisfied with patting myself on the back (for now) I passed through one of the wayshrine gates and appeared in a small cave on the northern edge of the Throat of The World, positioned just next to the road but well hidden regardless. Akulakhan followed just behind and I wasted no further time in teleporting us before the Imperial camp.

Well, a siege camp if you wanted to be more specific. It would seem the engineers were already hard at work and lines of palisades protected by shallow trenches already almost surrounded the city from the south, while a small fleet blocked the river Yorgrim, forcing what little remained of the Stormcloak navy to remain berthed and stopping any kind of defense from being mounted atop the docks themselves with rows of prow-mounted scorpions.

And just in case the rebels tried to retreat once again, even the narrow passage north of the river and west of the city was blocked by a small wooden fort, manned with a full two cohorts of veteran legionaries, with much the same happening to the east with the Winterhold contingent and surprisingly enough a group from Riften camping out north of the loyalist fleet.

One quick look informed me that it was Hemming Black-Briar who was leading the ragtag group of mercenaries and actual soldiers from the corrupt city.

Maybe I wouldn't need to purge the family after all...Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Finally, my eyes landed on the city itself and the sight was made that much worse when contrasted with my previous thoughts. The immense stone walls of Windhelm stood as tall as they always did, the near monumental architecture of the ancient palace looming over it just the same as I remembered it and yet... and yet, the city itself felt destitute to my sight, numerous thousands which previously made it as lively as it was despite the then rising tensions were just gone, many of them ended by my own hand no doubt leaving a hollow shell from what was once a bustling economic hub.

Numerous manors of ancient and storied houses were left empty as entire families lost their lives upon the fields of Dawnstar, the bullheaded dedication the Nords held for Talos so easily twisted into leading them all into their deaths.

The air around the decimated population was much the same, with a sense of dread and resignation bubbling just below the surface of false determination and good old Nordic stubbornness, many of those whom were previously proud and defiant merely waiting for their deaths in hopes of a trip to Sovengarde.

If only they knew, the poor fools...

"A mighty fortress, my Master." Akulakhan rumbles in appreciation "Crushing it in your name shall be glorious indeed."

I chuckle drily at that "Just make sure not to 'crush' any non-combatants."

"The fragile meatbags have nothing to fear from me, they are not worth the time it would

take to clean their parts from my body." He responds with supreme confidence.

"You do realize you are enchanted to always look pristine, right?" I give him a wry look.

"Yes."

I snort 'Making him an asshole was the right decision.'

'We can't have someone sensible around us now can we?' Scorch chirps 'They would ruin the

fun!'

Shaking my head I approach the siege camp and walk straight to the small fortress in its center, none of the soldiers stopping me on the way except to offer a respectful salute or stare at Junior in fear and awe.

The steel plate clad Royal Housecarls wasted no time in letting me into what I could best describe as the medieval version of a command bunker, a stone tower cast with alteration magic giving a perfect view of the city and the battlefront from atop its fortified peak.

table.

Having finally left his comfort zone he decided to ride the high and looked to Tullius "General, I want artillery ready to break down the gates, forego some of the fortifications and

have them ready by morning, no incendiaries!"

Tullius nods and waves for a duo of his officers, sending them to relay the order.

"Court Mage." His gaze snaps to me "Can you supply the Battlemage with enough scrolls to

ensure his task is complete?"

"I will have them done in minutes." I nod but do not leave quite yet. "Harald." He looks to his father-in-law "Take another two cohorts and have them build a

siege tower, assault the western walls once the battle starts."

"They won't know what hit them." Harald grins. "Balgruuf" The King pauses "You are with me in the center."

Balgruuf taps his trusty axe with one hand and offers a legionary salute with the other.

"Igmund, Helm, and Rikke." He looks to another group "You will assault the docks and join

the Court Mage in the Grey Quarter."

They all salute.

"Falk." His seemingly permanent glare softens a bit "You will go and join the fleet, have them and the Winterhold and Riften contingents join us once we strike the gates."

Pride and concern wars within the Steward but in the end below all his worry Falk was still a

Nord and quickly his frown was replaced with a proud grin as he too saluted his King "By your

command."

He looks to Tullius once again "I entrust you with the overall command of the battle, you are to remain in this command center and send reinforcements where and when necessary. I want a rotation filtering out those most tired or wounded whenever possible."

The General takes it in stride and simply nods.

He looks up from the map of Windhelm and holds the gaze of each and every one of us, well

save for AK but even in his fury Torygg didn't feel like almost breaking his neck again, and speaks in a much calmer but no less commanding voice "I want this rebellion dealt with tomorrow. Enough of our brothers and sisters have been slain by their own kin, and I would have this travesty ended." He pauses "Are you with me?"

A loud series of 'aye!-s' comes dangerously close to shaking the tower, where previously those Jarls present showed Torygg their political loyalty, they now looked at him with genuine respect in their eyes and even the Imperials were moved by his words. Even the representative of the Breton knighthood, an older gentleman from Wayrest, was looking just about ready to charge the city himself.

The sound of slow clapping sound draws all of their attention and draws all eyes to me, a wide grin on my face greeting them as I spoke "Took you long enough."

All Torygg can do as my genuine happiness crushes what little fury he had left is look to the side to hide his embarrassment, immediately getting swarmed by pats on the back from his fellow Nords and their congratulations on 'Finally getting it lad!'

Now to ensure his heroism doesn't get him killed...

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