The Bears Shortcoming

Chapter 17 - Realization

(4E 202 20th of Morning Star)

I walked through the familiar brass doors that opened the way to the ancient city of Windhelm. I heard the old doors groan as they shut behind me and I set foot in the place that had become like a home to me.

I was wearing winter boots and a heavy black hooded cloak, I pulled the cloak over my face and looked around at the old city before me, beautiful tall buildings crumbling with age and pure white snow that crunched softly beneath my boots.

Although what I saw was beautiful, I felt an unfamiliar chill in the air and a dark feeling in my gut, I would always look at the city and admire it, but I could never really see.

I walked directly through the middle of the city, and I almost reached the foot of the steps that lead up to Ulfric's palace, a place that held so many happy memories for me. Instead of taking my usual route and going to visit the Jarl, I took a sharp right turn and walked through the grey quarter.

The smell was considerably worse in this part of Windhelm, weather that be because the dark elves were too poor to take care of themselves properly, or if it was the rotting food that the Nords threw at the houses, I didn't know. It seemed darker in this part of the city too, I didn't know if it was just the atmosphere, but I did know that I certainly wouldn't want to live in this place.

I walked into the 'New Gnisis Cornerclub'; I'd heard it was a sort of tavern for the elves in the city. It wasn't much warmer inside the Cornerclub than it was out in the snow. There was a sour-faced dark elf behind the counter and a few elves drinking quietly at the tables. There was no bard. No music.

I walked over to the man behind the counter and took a seat on an uncomfortable bar stool.

"What brings a wood elf to Windhelm?" the dark elf, who appeared to be the owner of the cornerclub, asked. His accent was so thick he was hard to understand.

"Just passing through" i replied quietly "Do all the dark elves live in this part of the city?"

The man scoffed and looked up at me, amusement in his eyes "You must be new to Windhelm to be askin a question like that" He paused, as if he expected me to laugh at his joke. When he was instead greeted with only silence, the elf cleared his throat. "Yes, all the dark elves are forced to live in this slum"

"Hasn't anyone asked the Jarl for help?"

"We've pleaded with him to come and look at the state we're livin in, but it seems his mightyness can't find the time"

There was resentment in the dark elf's voice, and i could tell that opinions on Ulfric in this part of the city were not very high.

I bought a drink and sat on the most isolated table I could find. My gut wrenched as I looked at the Thalmor Dossier on Ulfric that I had found at the Thalmor Embassy and flicked through its pages. I stared at the words and blinked back tears as I wished for the hundredth time that this was all a dream, but it wasn't.

It read:

THALMOR DOSSIER: ULFRIC STORMCLOAK

Ulfric Stormcloak was chosen as an infant by his father to study with the greybeards in high Hrothgar, he spent the next decade in High Hrothgar developing the power of his Thu'um.

Ulfric was supposed to one day become a greybeard himself, if it were not for the 'Great War' of the 4th Era.

Ulfric joined the Imperial Legion and fought against the Dominion but he was soon captured in battle and subjected to extreme interrogation.

Ulfric was made to believe false information surrounding the Empire and the White Gold Tower during his capture.

Ulfric was allowed to escape, as we were under the impression that he would go back to Windhelm and form a rebellion against the Empire.

As planned, Ulfric formed a rebellion against the empire whom he called the 'STORMCLOAKS'

Every move Ulfric makes against the Empire strengthens the Thalmors position in Skyrim, so he has been allowed to act as he pleases until further action is taken.

After the war, contact was established and he has proven his worth as an asset.

I knew deep down that Ulfric was a victim in all of this, that he had been mercilessly tortured to breaking point by the Thalmor. But he had lied to me for months on end, if the Stormcloaks were to win the war the Thalmor would take over and the Skyrim I had grown to love would wither and die along with all of the people I loved. My love for Ulfric was painfully real, but his love for me was fake. His love for me was a beautifully designed mask to tempt me, the Dragonborn, into winning his war for him.

The Thalmor had slaughtered my parents back in Valenwood, and now they had come to Skyrim to get rid of any elf or nord who didn't conform to their beliefs. And the man I loved was their puppet.

I couldn't continue fighting for the Stormcloaks, it made me feel sick that I'd been helping the Stormcloaks for so long, and in turn also helping the Thalmor to take over my home. I didn't know where to go or what to do, so I travelled back to the only place I could still call home. Riften.