Story Ideas

Battle of Winterberry

World: Skyrim

Status: So old I don't even know who they're referring to in the end (pretty sure it's one of my old OC's but not certain). If I continued it it'd only be for a couple more chapters, because it's a relatively short story like Mara's Burden. 

Summary: A Stormcloak General is injured in a surprise raid on one of his forts. His pension is not enough to live off of, and soon falls to begging. However, when a kind priest takes him in, can he learn how to live as a civilian again?

Chapter 1:

"Deputy?" I looked over at Ralof, who was on night shift with me.

"Oh come on Ralof, don't call me that. It's bad enough listening to everyone else saying it."

"But your name is too long to say!" He protested, only half-joking.

"Fine then SOLDIER. What did you need?" I looked out at the silent night, the darkness broken only by the watchman and his torch at the top of Fort Winterberry, one which I had been charged with keeping safe until more troops could come and reinforce it.

He turned back away from me and we both stared out at the forest. "I just wanted to say it has been a pleasure serving with you."

"Why do you say that?" I frowned. Was he resigning his post after this? Or was he just worried about dying?

He shrugged. "I dunno."

I suppressed a sigh. "You aren't going to die, Ralof. The Imperials should be putting all their forces into the raid in Falkreath, they won't care about a fort until after we win, and we should be relieved by more soldiers by then."

"I guess you're right. I just have this feeling... like this battle will be my last." I punched his arm lightly.

"You always say that."

"I know. But this time I can almost taste my own death. It's eerie." I saw him shiver a bit.

"Why don't you go get Aaron to relieve you and get some rest? You must be tired."

"And let that boy take over? He is barely old enough to grow chest hair!" He shook his head. "I'll be fine."

"I would be here with him to keep him in check. But it doesn't matter to me, just don't go insane." I saw a flicker of light in the distance, but before I could even blink my eyes, it disappeared. I looked up at the watchman, Keeva this time, and tried to tell if she had seen it, but eventually I decided I had imagined it.

Ralof didn't, however. "Did you see that?" He whispered, obviously spooked.

I shook my head disbelievingly. "It was probably just a courier. But even so, it would be better to stay sharp." I sounded more certain than I felt, and I hoped he didn't notice. Mixed with Ralof's feelings and the darkness, I was getting jumpy.

"Stay sharp. Right." He looked up at Keeva. "Do you think she saw it?"

"No. Or if she did, she obviously didn't see it as a threat." I tried to assure both of us. I'm not sure it worked.

The next few moments were a blur. One second we both were looking in the distance silently, the next we were staring at the body of Keeva, an arrow implanted in her chest. Then they came.

Arrows flew at us from all sides, and hundreds of soldiers leapt into view and started to charge. I grabbed Ralof and pushed him inside, barring the heavy wooden doors behind me.

All of the soldiers that were sleeping woke at the sound of Aaron's scream. As they rubbed their eyes and looked around in confusion, Ralof snapped at him. "Aaron! Shut up!" He turned to the rest of the group, their puffy bloodshot gaze now fixed on us. I stepped forward.

"We are under attack! You three, take high ground at top level, and grab your best bows. You two, make sure that the Fort isn't breached and security is high. And the rest of you," I looked around at the remaining soldiers. "Grab your swords and axes. We're going head-on." By the time everyone was in position and awake, the Imperials were trying to bust down the door, the stone walls and floor shaking with each attempt.

"We have to escape out the back, we can't risk them getting in! We can flank and surprise them." I looked at my small group of men and had a grave thought when I saw Ralof among their ranks. He looked at me knowingly, and I cringed slightly. I raised my head high.

"All of you will come out of there alive. All of you are brave enough and strong enough to kill these cowardly Imperial dogs. So let's do this!" I turned my back to them and the cheer that followed and hoped my claims would stay true, that we would not have any bodies to bury, but deep inside of me I knew at least one of us would die tonight. I unsheathed my dagger, readied a spell, and kicked open the back door. I ran into the night and stopped for a moment to breathe in the fresh air before slowly creeping along the stone walls to the front, where hundreds of Imperial soldiers were waiting. I sheathed my dagger and reached for my bow, but found it was not there.

"Damn it!" I swore under my breath and instead readied a Fireball spell, which when cast would cause a minor explosion in their midst. But before I released it, they scattered on their own, arrows flying towards them. I glanced up at the fort's higher levels and saw the men I had sent standing there, bows ready. I smiled. My men were strong. They would survive.

The Imperials finally realizing where the arrows were from, raised their shields to block the onslaught of arrows and started charging forward.

I ran to meet them, and seeing my group were not far behind, I refrained from using explosive magic. I lit half of them on fire, and let the other half feel my blade. But even with my relentless attacks and unfailing speed (I chose light armor for a reason), they just came in with more soldiers, and soon I was injured, swords slashing at me from all sides, arrows flying through the air. The rest of my team were lost in the waves of Imperials, and the arrows from the group at the top of the fort seemed useless. Our only weapon, surprise, was now gone.

I was pushed into the barred doors of the fort, Imperials pressing in on all sides. One stabbed me in the shoulder, another in the leg. I fell to the ground and lay there in agony, both wounds on fire. My vision started to go black around the edges, and I closed my eyes, accepting my fate as banging on the doors started...

I felt stabbing pain in my shoulder and leg, and I opened my eyes. I could see wood above me, forming a roof, and when I looked to the right and left of them I could see walls.

"Uhh, where am I?" I moaned and tried to sit up, only to find that my muscles would not obey. Someone walked over to me in light orange robes and an amulet of....Talos? She must be a priestess. Which means I must be in the Temple in Windhelm. And I must still be alive.

She walked over to me and opened a red potion bottle and tipped it into my throat. I swallowed at and gagged at the repulsive taste, which was of similar kind to raw potatoes. She laid my head down again and I rolled it over to the side to look at the beds next to me. Empty. Looked to the other side. There was Ralof, but he looked unconscious. I closed my eyes and turned them back to the ceiling.

I heard the sound of a door opening and shutting, and footsteps approaching me. I opened my eyes and strained to get a look at the newcomer, but to no prevail. I sighed.

But the next moment I knew exactly who it was. I would recognize that booming voice anywhere. Ulfric Stormcloak himself was in the room, and I assumed he was talking to the priestess. I heard his voice,

"She will survive then?" And hers responding,

"Yes. Had the wounds been any closer to her heart, like his," There was a pause. "Well she may not have been so lucky."

"So he may not survive?" Ulfric's voice seemed heavy with sadness. I could see a hand pointing to Ralof. I wondered how many soldiers had died today. There was a long silence in which I think the priestess may have nodded her head. Then I heard him leave the temple again. We must have lost the battle. I felt a tear slipping from the edge of my eye as I thought of Aaron and Sheeva and everyone that had lost their lives. My comrades. My friends. My... family.