You mean, "They are not as stupid as you claim to be." Please go back to grade school.
Unless if you have a degree in PhD and major in English you have no right to play grammar Nazi with me.
How is bringing resources and troops mentioning the real world? You were comparing a video game to real world events and practices. I didn't do anything of the sort. Or maybe you lack reading comprehension. Or you really are that stupid. I go for you are that stupid.
Human reproduction. Since this is a game you can spawn more troops. Hell you can even go as far as to use the console code to spawn as many troops as you can possible can. If you want to abolish any real life contact with skyrim then perhaps you can shut up about lack of resources that the empire has.
Clearly you understand nothing of war. Sometimes taking a breather and living to fight another day is the way to go. Just blindly allowing your armies to meet their evident death is not the sign of a good leader.
I suppose you're an expert of war, and it's operation, right? Where do you get your expertise from? Military channel? Are you a war veteran? Do you have any military background? Again YOU'RE USING REAL WORLD to compare to a fictional video game. Remember that's a big no no.
The Thalmor wouldn't be in Skyrim if it wasn't for you Ulfric StormChrist stirring up pl*** by murdering the High King. How many times do the actually intelligent people have to tell you morons? It's getting old. I feel like a broken record.
For fluff sakes are you joking with me? I hope you're joking because this has to be a joke. Do you think for a moment that the Thalmor gives two plopss about what Ulfric did with High King Torygg? No they do not. The fact is that the Thalmor are there because of Jarl Igmund decisions for allowing free worship of talos (A clear violation of the White-Gold Concordat that the empire agreed with) in Markarth after Ulfric and his stormcloak army retook the reach back from the forsworn. The Thalmor put pressure on Igmund to arrest Ulfric.
And those Thalmor wouldn't be there if it wasn't for Ulfric. As I said before. I don't recall ever seeing the Priest from Whiterun getting hauled off. So your argument just falls flat on it's face.
Lore:Flight from the Thalmor - UESPWiki
by Hadrik Oaken-Heart
Dearest reader: The work you are about to experience has been copied and duplicated, so that the story it relates can be spread throughout the Empire. But make no mistake - this is not a work of fiction. The events chronicled in this account are all true, were originally documented in a private journal (which now remains safely guarded in the House of Quills in Hammerfell) and occurred not more than a year before this book was printed.
- Ashad Ibn Khaled, High Scribe, House of Quills, Hammerfell
It's been nine days. Nine days since I slipped my bonds. Nine days since I strangled my captor with my own chains. And nine days since I rushed headlong into the night, always listening, but never looking back.
But in order to understand my current predicament, one must first understand where I came from, and just where this story began.
My name is Hadrik Oaken-Heart, and I am a proud
Nord of
Skyrim. I am a skald by trade, and received my formal training at the
Bards College in
Solitude. For years, I made my occupation as a traveling musician and minstrel, and even served several stints as war-bard in service to the armies of the various
Jarls.
And it's fairly safe to say that if I weren't a bard, I never would have gotten into this mess to begin with.
My troubles began when I first started singing about
Talos, the
Ninth and greatest Divine, beloved of the people of Skyrim. Turns out, he's not so beloved by the
Thalmor.
Ah yes, the Thalmor. As common as a head cold in Skyrim these days, and just as annoying. Or so I thought at the time, before their true power and inlfuence
[sic] made itself known.
For those not in the know, the Thalmor are Skyrim's recently honored "guests" -
high elves of the
Aldmeri Dominion who were gracious enough not to wipe us all out during
the Great War.
But, as every Nord of Skyrim knows, Thalmor graciousness comes at a terrible price. One of the stipulations of the
White-Gold Concordat - the peace treaty between our peoples - was the abolishment of Talos worship. A man ascend to godhood? Preposterous, claim the Thalmor. And so, the open worship of Talos has been outlawed in Skyrim, and actively enforced in those cities where the Thalmor have a tangible presence. Cities, I might add, in which the
Empire has the most secure foothold.
It was in one of these cities -
Markarth, to be exact - where I made the conscious decision to defy the ban on Talos worship. And my defiance came in the form of - what else? - a song. For what bard who has spent time writing and rehearsing an original work can possible refrain from performing it? So perform it I did. Not once, not twice, but seven times. Once a day, for an entire week.
Now here's something most of my kinsman are unaware of: not all Thalmor in Skyrim are equal in station, or purpose. In fact, there is one group in particular that operates secretly, in the shadows - watching and waiting for those Nords who break the law, and continue their worship of almighty Talos. These are the Justiciars, and it is their job to enforce this, the most terrible of conditions of the White-Gold Concordat.
And so, I would have performed my song for an eighth time had I been given the opportunity. Sadly, I was not. For the Justiciars had been watching, had been waiting. Instead, I received a black sack over my head in the wee hours of the morning, a dreadfully uncomfortable wagon ride, and sinister promises that I would enjoy my "new home," which I came to realize was some sort of secret Thalmor prison or detention camp. One I was certain I would never leave alive.
It was at that moment I realized I needed to make my escape. No matter what - even if I died in the attempt - I had to slip the grasp of my captors. Better that than rot in some godsforsaken Thalmor jail until the end of time.
I finally got my chance when the wagon stopped, and we made camp for the night. One of my two Thalmor guards set off into the forest to hunt, leaving me alone with the other. And so, my account comes full circle.
It is now nine days later, and in that time, I have realized the true extent of my foolishness. I couldn't have sung the song just once? Or maybe twice? Or not at all? I couldn't have swallowed my stubborn Nord pride and realized just how much power and influence the Thalmor truly have over the Jarls?
No. I could not. So now I run. Like a hare from the hound, I run. Always moving, rarely resting, never sleeping. But the Thalmor dog my every move. Where will I go? How will I escape their grasp? I honestly don't know. The only thing I now understand for certain is this: if the agents of the Aldmeri Dominion cannot have your soul, then they will take your very life.
My name is Hadrik Oaken-Heart, and I am a proud Nord of Skyrim. Remember me. For soon I will be dead.
