Private War of Jarls

[AndgerTheNord]

This is the thread for the rp War of Jarls

 

[AndgerTheNord]

The snow flakes showered Kendov as he stood outside of the palace. Windhelm was a silent city, for death was in the air. Kendov brushed the snow off his face and spit on the ground. He ordered a meeting in Hjerm where his newly appointed Thane was to host a meeting. This was a secret meeting, the king didn't tell anyone what the purpose was. He did let one fact slip though, that it was a meeting of war.

 

[Zan'kir Adavi]

Zan'Kir stood pacing back and forth through the large common room inside Hjerim, humming a lively tune he heard in Cyrodiil. He nervously wrung his hands in anticipation, checking every detail for the millionth time. He knew well the polished plates and fine food and drink set upon the finely carved table were more than adequate for Kendov and a few others. The King's servants had done well, as usual. His nervous demeanor was amplified by the whopping request by Kendov. He was to host a meeting in his new home. Not two months ago he had been rotting away in jail, unable to pay the fine from a botched stealing run. Now...Now he was Thane of Windhelm, appointed by Kendov himself, hosting a King's gathering. Zan'Kir would never understand why Kendov and taken pity on him, let alone grant him a seat on the court. He shook himself from his thoughts and examined himself. He had changed his usual Mage attire for impeccably-tailored fine suit and expensive-looking boots. He had enlisted the help of those dressing the nobles, their keen eyes searching the smallest of details. Zan'Kir finally stopped pacing and stood at the corner of the table, drawing a steady breath to relive stress. It was futile. How was he supposed to please a King? Let alone a King he didn't know well. He had never hosted a gathering and all of his instincts were screaming at him to don weapons and prepare for an attack, but he forced himself to remain still. He glanced at the deep scar in the palm of his hand, would Kendov judge even this? He shoved the paranoia from his mind and tried to adopt a calm and friendly air. Hopefully, this meeting would go well enough.

 

[AndgerTheNord]

Kendov approached Hjerm, the home he gifted to Zan'Kir, a theif. Many criticised him for the choice he made, but Kendov felt pity for the khajiit. He knew that he stole because he needed to survive. Kendov wanted to give him a second chance. As Kendov opened the door to the manor he saw a feast was prepared. The finest venison, the rarest of mammoth meat, the finest wine, layed upon silver plates and golden goblets. Kendov drummed his fingers on the table as he saw the nervous thane. "Quite the meal, my furry friend. I see the others are late. No matter though, more time for small talk." Kendov smiled as he sat down and took his lute from his bag. He played a tune well known around Skyrim, but he sang it in the words of the ancient nords. It was a blessing, his father tought him ancient nordic as he wished for his son to understand the runes and scrolls that were common in the palace library. Kendov finished the song and asked Zan'Kir a question, "You seem tense, are you okay?" He was worried for his recently appointed thane.

 

[Zan'kir Adavi]

Zan'Kir breathed a sigh of relief when Kendov walked in, complimenting the meal laid before him, but it did little to calm his nerves. He was on edge, not only from hosting the gathering, which held a strange air about it; but also from the lack of contact he'd recieved as of late. S'han had contacted the Dark Brotherhood as soon as Zan'Kir reached the border. He'd paid the assasin to turn a blind eye after an intense stalemated battle, but he knew S'han would want proof. A body, or part of it at least, would have arrived in Elsweyr by now. He shuddered at what might come next. Would he hire their leader, Astrid herself? A daedra? He was grateful when Kendov pulled out a lute and poured out a beatiful melody. The lyrics were different, but Zan'Kir found himself appreciating the distraction even more. Kendov finished the song and spoke, "You seem tense, are you okay?" It was that obvious? Zan'Kir nodded, "I am, my king. A number of things have my attention, but I need not worry you with them." He sighed, "Please forgive me. I'm not used to any of this." Gesturing around the room.

 

[DraconicPsycho]

Reez walked in not long after Kendov arrived in Hjerim. He approached the house slowly, and his eyes were shifting. he had to make sure no one could see him, or worse yet, the Jarl Kendov. He slipped into the house quietly and silently. The only thing that managed to slip into the house with Reez was a frigid breeze. Reez shivered, and his armor made a light crackling noise. He looked around the neat house with his dark blue eyes and commented, "I had never realized Hjerim was so nice. You are a lucky cat, Zan'Kir." He pulled up one of the chairs. Before he sat down, he had to observe the chair. it was very finely crafted with carvings that looks almost...godly. Reez sat in the chair next to Jarl Kendov. before now, he hadn't paid attention to the food. He found his favorite, apple dumpling, sitting in the middle. his eyes became wide, but he wouldn't eat anything until the meeting started. He set down an expensive, blue bottle on the table. it read "Argonian Bloodwine" It was Reez's favorite wine, one they made in Skyrim for the Argonians. "Consider this a housewarming gift", Reez said. He look at Zan'Kir, and then over at Kendov with a very serious demeanor. "What is the subject, Kendov? You mentioned war?" He said this in a particularly serious, but quiet voice, as to not scare any citizens...or let eavesdroppers hear him.

 

[AndgerTheNord]

Kendov angrily sneered at Reez, "Ysmir's beard, its King Kendov. Remember your position Reez. Don't get to comfortable." Kendov hated when his court did that. They seem to keep forgetting he is no longer a child. He sat down and cut a slice of mammoth meat, and sipped some mead. After calming down he looked around as if he was searching for something, or someone. The wind howled outside and the old house shuttered. An erie feeling was in the air. Kendov's neck hairs raised. Nervously he removed a map from his satchel and laid it on a desk in the corner of the room. It was a map of Skyrim, with all possible invasion routes highlighted. They were going to discuss the Eastmarch's military position. He brought his most trusted members with him. Kendov devoted his kingdom's wealth to bolstering their armies. The previous civil war had emptied the once proud nordic armies to a weak militia force. Kendov had changed that doing all he could to train them, equip them. He even ordered a draft, including elves and the beast races. The forts were well defended and he had even given some giant tribes protection in exchange for defending the Eastmarch's southern lands. But something seemed off, something wrong. Then he realized it, the lands of Winterhold had miles of frozen over land, secret tunnels dug in the ice, that could allow the northernmost hold to march thousands of warriors unchecked. "Son of a bitch!" His court members looked started as he knocked over the desk, and punched the wall. "How could I have been so blind!" Kendov crumpled to his knees and shaked, as he spoke Winterhold could be marching its warriors right to Windhelm.

 

[DraconicPsycho]

"My Jarl, What is the matter? Are we in trouble?" Reez was calm, but worried. He stopped eating on his food and observed the map that the jarl was using and remembered the the tunnels. "Ah...this is quite a big issue, but i can be solved easily...Heres what i suggest we do." He put his hands on the map and took war figurines out. He placed them all, and then explained. "Here is what we do. We get our best summoners to summon some flame atronachs and we send the atronachs in search of the warriors. Then, as an added precaution, we take 3 or 4 Ballistae and we have them shoot the roof of the tunnel, effectively trapping the Warriors inside. If that doesnt work...May the hist preserve us." The room got eerily quiet. Reez's eyes widened and he grew worried. "dammit...Guards! I want all of you scouring the area to make sure no one heard us! And if i find out one of you is a spy i will drag you to Oblivion myself!" , He snarled. He was legitimately worried for the safety of the Holds people. "Zan'kir. What are your thoughts?" , he said, looking over at Zan'kir in a very serious cadence.

 

[Zan'kir Adavi]

Zan'Kir stood in stunted silence. He'd nearly froze at the mention of war. He snapped from his stupor when Reez addressed him, asking his thoughts on the matter. He was about to dive into a series of stuttering remarks but stopped short, an old saying floating through his head: Battles are fought and won by armies, but wars are fought and won by a few intelligent men. He was no warrior, that was certain, but wars revolved around information. Information was his buisness, after all he was a thief. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and cleared his throat. "I say we follow through with Reez's plan, conditionally." He paused, making sure all his thoughts were in order, "We should set up defenses and ballistae covertly. As a sort of last resort, or added line when the fighting does break out. However, we should send scouts out to look for entrances to the tunnels both here and in Winterhold, mapping as much of their underground network as possible." He drew a breath, unsure of how the Jarl would take this, "I suggest that we obtain the most recent census for Winterhold and Windhelm, then cross-reference those to figure out where people entering our city may be coming from. This should help to weed out spies, but I doubt they would be dumb enough to use their real names when scouting Windhelm. However, most provide a fairly detailed description of the person in case of death, or what have you. We can cross-reference the physical description of a citizen from Winterhold with new arrivals to the city, if we come up with a reasonable match, I suggest we put a tail on that person for as long as we can." He paused again, unsure of the legality of what he was about to suggest, "I think it goes without saying, but we can no longer trust couriers. At least for now. Any important document should be delivered personally by one of us. No guards. I also suggest that, at random, myself or a disguised scout should jump a courier and make off with their satchel. We quickly scan the letters, ensuring they carry no enemy intelligence, and are not enemies themselves; and later dump the satchel where the courier can easily find it. The guards cannot be aware of this, so the thief would have to be skilled. However, it will become blatantly obvious if we target only couriers. So we should also have scouts jump citizens at random and search them for enemy information, discreetly of course. Anything stolen would be returned by a guard later the next day, like I said before, the guard would not know of the plan and would simply carry out his duties. This should allow us to monitor the enemy without them knowing we are doing so, and provide a decent cover for any obvious action we take. I also suggest planting spies and double agents in Winterhold and within their army if at all possible. As I said before, I can take part in any part of this, including an enemy spy." Zan'Kir took a breath and leaned against the wall, feeling strangely comfortable in this situation. He seemed in his element, but still nervous towards Kendov. He was obviously angry and angering him further probably wouldn't fair well. He shot a nervous glance at the overturned desk, hoping neither the Jarl or his Housecarl would turn on him for a poorly-timed suggestion.

 

[DraconicPsycho]

"Mapping the tunnels is a good idea. So is getting information. But not that way. We cannot attack citizens or couriers. If you were to get information I would suggest pick pocketing or persuading them. Attacking the citizens would only cause an uproar in the city, and that's the last thing we want." Reez said. He thought over Zan'kir's idea and clicked his tongue. "And if you were suggesting yourself, well...that's for the Jarl to decide." He looked over at The Jarl. He was also beginning to feel uneasy, so he clicked his claws on the table to the Rhythm of Ragnar the red. He observed the guards and made sure they didn't look suspicious. He noticed one of the guards packs looked more full than the others. "Hey, guards, turn out your packs. We're having an inspection."

 

[Keidivh]

OOC: Setting the scene in Solitude. Sorry for text wall, just wanted to explain what the situation in Haafingar is, as it's kind of complicated. also @wreckem_all Hello new friend!

A light snowfall descended upon the noisy, run down streets of Solitude as laborers and citizens, new and old, set about the long and arduous process of rebuilding the once shining jewel of Solitude.

After the passing of Elsif the Fair, Solitude descended into anarchy. With no true authority, the nobles of Solitude began a bloody power play to try and wrest control of the ancient city for themselves. This resulted in gruesome street wars between each nobles personal guard in the streets. The citizens were forced to watch as their beloved home fell to the worst kinds of violence. Shops were looted, men beaten. Children were whisked away in the dead of night, and woman were subject to awful harassment and violation. When it seemed the death knell of the city was ready to ring, the most unlikely of things occurred, a fleet from the East Empire Trade Company docked in the harbor, and warriors from High Rock marched into the city. Any of the noble’s guards who resisted were swiftly put down, while the regular citizenry was largely left alone, protected from the violence. At the front of this relatively small foreign army was a Breton noble, armored in runic Witchplate, wielding white ebony longsword that glowed with sapphire flames, and a simple circlet encompassed his head. He was Rolard Seton, the self-proclaimed King of Solitude.

While the nobles were infuriated at the intrusion, the citizenry were ecstatic, for the most part. Finally there was one who would some semblance of order. And that’s what Rolard did. Well, he attempted to do it anyways. While most of the citizenry were quite pleased with simply having peace, many Nords were agitated by the fact that a Breton now ruled over High Rock. Sure, he had tried to assure them that their ancient rights would be protected, seeing foreign soldiers patrol the Hold wasn’t exactly reassuring.

To add on top of the list of issues, the nobles of Solitude still stirred trouble against their new lord. Namely Vittoria Vicci, Bryling, and Erikur. Unfortunately, Rolard couldn’t just have them executed or banished. Lady Bryling ran some mines that brought sorely needed raw materials to the healing kingdom. Lord Erikur had multiple financial contracts and trade deals, and now that the violence was over could ensure that money once more flows into the city. Lady Vicci, simply had to strong of ties to the Empire, with her being related to Mede and all. The last thing he needed was an Imperial Legion marching on the gates.

Luckily the Divines showed mercy upon the fledgling ruler. Many of his father’s banner-men eagerly followed their new Lord, due to simple loyalty and hopefully new land and glory. The first and greatest of his banner-men was House Valtien. One of house Seton’s most trustworthy allies, Valtien didn’t even hesitate when Rolard called for his support. He brought with him the heavily armed and armored Valtien Frostswords, armed to the teeth with steel armor and heavy weaponry. Then there was the more numerous House Amerd. While Amerd wasn’t the most courageous man, he was ambitious, and saw a chance for great power and prestige in establishing a new kingdom. His troops were lightly armed and armored, making them excellent skirmishers, and became Rolard’s Rangers. House Laerush owed a blood debt to House Seton after having their county be saved by Seton’s army in the past. So he brought his people, and his swift cavalry forces, known as the strikers, lightly armored, but packed a fierce punch. The last house to follow him was small, and brought less than 50 people. House Elbien, A noble family compromised of mostly magic users. They relied on Seton’s protection, and so lent their services to him.

Lastly, there was the Knights of the Flame themselves. Disgusted by the butchery of the former Lords of Akaire, they swore fealty to House Seton, supplementing his army with heavy mounted knights. A fine army, but not large in size. Barely enough to maintain control of Haafingar. Each banner-men was appointed a slot of land. Lord Valtien was given lordship of Dragon Bridge. Amerd, became lord of Fort Hraggstad and woods around it. Lord Laerush was given lordship of Northwatch Keep. House Elbien was stationed in Pinefrost Tower, away from the scrutinizing Nords, and protected by a squadron of House Seton guards. Meanwhile the Knights of the Flame were given Proudspire manor as their chapterhouse, and became a kind of royal guard to King Seton.

And now, here he was, standing in the courtyard of Castle Dour, watching over his assembled banner-men, and the gathering locals of Haafingar. At the top of the stairs leading to the grand temple, King Seton addressed his new subjects.

“Dear citizens of Solitude, of Haafingar! I know the sorrows and tribulations you have gone through. Many of you have lost family! Your city lies in ruins! All of Skyrim stands divided, once friendly neighbors now wolves, prowling at the boundary of your borders!” His voice resonated across the courtyard, and he could see his men take pride in their leaders commanding presence, and had gained the rapt attention of the populace.

“I’m here to tell you now that this is at an end! The violence that threatened your fair city is over, the power hungry nobility curbed. Your borders are safe, protected by the blood and steel of Breton and Nordic warriors, standing under one banner! Already Solitude looks to be the Jewel of Skyrim once more!” At this citizens began to cheer, throwing their fists in the air.

“Solitude endures!” Some cried out in unison. However not all were thrilled!

“And what of the fact that a foreigner now sits on the throne of the Blue Palace?” Rolard turned his attention to wear the gruff voice came from. Captain Aldis, captain of the Solitude Guard. He was a good man, who tried his best to protect the citizenry of Solitude during the Reign of Anarchy. Being a traditional Nord, he hated the thought of having a foreigner on the throne.

“I understand your fears and frustrations Captain Aldis. I know what it is like to lose your home to strangers.” Rolards voice became a bit more gentle, as painful memories began to seep into his mind. “I know that no words that can sway, nor should they, but I give my word that the traditions of the mighty people of Atmora shall be preserved. All rites and customs shall be honored, you will be full citizens, treated the same as any Breton. Most importantly, I will ensure the worship of Talos be protected!”

At this a great uproar was heard from the crowd, Bretons and Nords alike cheering at the words. There were a few tear even, as it seemed the worst was finally past for them. They could rebuild, they could live. They could thrive. With that done, Rolard gave a small bow to his subjects, and proceeded to the Blue Palace. Solitude couldn’t heal and thrive if they were beset on by ambitious neighbors. He was followed by his Brother Vaynar and sister Ellia, his Housecarl and Steward respectively.

“Well spoken brother, the people find hope in your words.” Ellia spoke softly, moving swiftly at his side. “The noble’s gather to discuss our plans to secure Haafingar.

“We also have a potential ally to assist us in our plans, he is a Thane of Solitude.” His brother spoke up now, his gruff voice a stark contrast to his silver tongue and his sisters gentle tone.

“Who is this man then?” Rolard had just about had it with bloody Thanes. Two of them were responsible for all the bloodshed and the anarchy. He hoped the third wouldn’t be of the same stock.

At his brothers question, his demeanor grew a bit darker, and his words dripped out with a bit of annoyance, “Ugdul Sharga… An Orsimer. He will be here to meet you shortly."

Rolard couldn’t help but twist his face in disgust and anger. An Orc as my Thane? Stendarr have mercy, just what I need, another problem.

“Let’s just get this done.” The king growled as he entered the throne room, where the nobles of Solitude and his banner-men gathered. Now all’s he needed was that Orc.

 

[wreckem_all]

[Hello @Keidivh, my Friend^^]

Ugdul Sharga, an Orismer dressed full clad in his orcish armor, his waraxes on either side of his waist, smirked as he stood in the crowd listening to Rolards words. The little war in Solitude was tough and because he didn't want to be mixed up in it he stayed out of it. Still it seemed he was always dragged back into all of this senseless and ruthless fighting, being constantly attacked and such. It was no wonder that Ugdul decided to leave Solitude for some time. He had nothing but respect for Elisif and her passing away brought sorrow to the orc. Nonetheless he was angry at the behaviour of his fellow Thane. He was put in quite the predicament, he knew all these people fighting each other and he remembered fighting along side them more than once. How could he possibly slay them. It was just recently that he heard from a conversation in a tavern about the situation in Solitude so he made his way back. It has been a long time since The Fortress has seen a real hero and he was itching to introduce himself. Just as Rolard has left the scene, the orc made his way to the blue palace in which a meeting would take place where he was asked to come. Self explanatory as a Thane of Haafingar. He was, of course, last to enter the Throne room and as he walked up the staircase, he saw a lot of new faces all awaiting the arrival of the orc to begin the meeting. Taking of his helmet. He stood in conversational reach of his new king. "My jarl, I believe we have yet to meet but I suppose you already have my name." He gave a quick bow with the head and awaited his response.

 

[Keidivh]

Rolard had just gotten to the war table that he had placed before the throne. Any time he wasn't amongst the people, or pandering to the nobles, he was making different strategy's on how to deal with their possibly hostile neighbors.

He turned to look at the newcomer, already able to tell who he was just by the gruffness of his voice. He stood silent for a moment, his softly glowing eyes scrutinizing every detail. As nearly every Orc always seems to be, Ugdul was dressed in full battle regalia. Scarred, weathered. A clear veteran of combat.

Being a Thane, this man clearly must have served the realm in some capacity. But all's he could see was a bloodthirsty berserker, cutting down his sword brothers in High Rock.

"Tell me, Orsimer. What did you do to attain the title of Thane? You are the first Orc I've met that I have not had to cross blades with. In what capacity can you serve Haafingar." His voice had an iron edge to it. While he tried to hide it, his anger at having an Orc being in his presence could be seen. All's he could see when he looked at him were Knights cut in two, villages burnt. It was hard to put such thoughts aside.

 

[wreckem_all]

Distrustful as everyone he has met for the first time. Being an orc sure had its bad sides but Ugdul was used to these kind of reactions when they meet him. "When I left my stronghold I took on mercenary jobs throughout Skyrim but soon I had longed for a place for my own and the town I chose was Solitude. Jarl Elisif did not allow me to purchase a house in the city so I started to do her favors like wiping out bandits. It wasn't long before I also became a bounty hunter. I soon got permission to own property in Solitude but I hadn't given up on bounty hunting. The province was safer, ruins considered lost were reclaimed and Solitude could set up outposts throughout Haafingar. Although I only did it for the money, my hard work earned me a lot of reputation. Wether it was fame or infamy which I earned I had been known. Some felt protected, some felt intimidated. My name or rather my nickname 'The Fortress' has been a symbol but that was before Elisif's death."

 

[Keidivh]

Rolard stared at the Orc a moment longer, trying to sense any sign of deceit or foul play. When he found none, he turned his attention back to the war table. "Very well then Thane, if you would, then I would have you continue to act as Thane under my rule. Solitude is in dire need of defenders. It would do them good to have one that they're familiar with." His finger then pointed down into the Reach, dead on Markarth.

"This is our primary concern. Markarth seems to have grown quite aggressive after madness and divison consumed Skyrim." To this Bryling added her voice.

"Our king speaks true. They evicted all mining contractors foreign to the Reach. They now have a monopoly on the majority of mines in Skyrim! With this wealth of resources they have attempted to exert control over both Falkreath and Hjaalmarch." Bryling was quite aggravated at this fact, most of her dealings in mining after all. Rolard then brought his attention back to Ugdul.

"What say you on this manner Ugdul, you are well traveled in this region. What is the situation of the Reach. Is Markarth a danger to us?"

 

[AndgerTheNord]

Kendov looked at the guards, he did not know these men. He asked the taller of the two his clan name, and the soldier answered, "Gold-Hammer" Kendov did not kniw that clan, and he knew every clan west of Whiterun. "What's in the bag, Gold-Hammer", the man looked nervous, and stuttered, "Nothing Jarl Kendov, why do you ask?"Kendov lowered his voice and drew his sword, "Your KING, wants to know what is in the damn bag, you lying son of bitch!" With these words he punched Gold-Hammer and emptied the contents. Out of it fell scale armor and red sashes, Solitude armor. Kendov swung his sword at Gold-Hammer's partner slices open his throat, blood gushing over the freshly scrubbed rug. Gold-Hammer soon found himself pinned down by the others , and at Kendov's mercy. "What in Oblivion are Solitude colors doing in your bag?" Kendov sneered as he wiped blood off of his sword. The guard sighed and spoke, "We left after that damn Breton took over. We nords would rather die than serve a half-breed noble from High-Rock. We came here to round up some men take the city back. Then you would be next to spawn of a storm-cloak traitor!" Kendov mused over this idea, and asked his housecarl to postpone the Winterhold invasion until they found out more about the breton king of Solitude. Then the king turned to Zan'kir, "Prove your loyalty, kill this western scum." With these words he shoved a dagger in the young thane's hands .

 

[wreckem_all]

[@AndgerTheNord,

Had this scene in mind after reading your post xD]

"It is my honor, my jarl. I shall be this country's sword and shield once more." He then stepped aside to where everyone else was positioned and followed the conversation ~So the rumors are true, Markarth is preparing an all out war on Skyrim...With these kind of ressources they may have an upper hand on military power.~ Ugdul's thoughts were interrupted when Rolard asked him to present his peace of mind. "Well, they have the opportunity to start a war, so calling them a threat is more than fair. I'd say if the mines are the problem then we should take them by force." Plans were the one thing Ugdul didn't get along with. He was more of a straight forward kind of guy and could definetly follow plans better than come up with them. This suggestion alone took him a lot of concentration. While it was more plausible for him to take the problem by the source and attack Markarth directly, he already knew that others might disapprove.

 

[Archer Drake]

Windhelm stood quietly off in the distance, framed by snow-capped mountains a horizon away. It was cold, the infernal snow coming down in sheets. It swirled in the air and twisted in intricate patterns in front of the young argonian's face. Falcon-eye truly hated this place, if it wasn't the snow it was the cold, if it wasn't the weather it was the docks. He shook his head, his kind was forced to unload boats for little more than starvation wages. He thought about his parents, bringing him into the world from who knows where and starving to death at the hands of a septim-hoarding fool. The same fool that marked him with a bladed whip as he ran for his life. It had been thirteen years since Falcon-eye dared to show his face anywhere near that city. He sighed, yet here he was, walking up to the gates with the intention of entering. He wore a long, hooded overcoat on top of his armor and it fluttered behind him in the wind. He approached the gate guard slowly, trying not to look suspicious. "Halt," he said, "I don't know you, what business do you have in Windhelm?" "I come seeking shelter and supplies." He paused, "I also seek another of my kind, a cousin of mine said to be living here. I do not come seeking trouble, and I wholly intend to avoid it." The guard eyed him, "Fine, but cause any trouble and I won't hesitate to haul you to the dungeons by your feathers, argonian." Falcon-eye shrugged and walked through the gates, letting out a high-pitched whistle. Seconds later, a red-tailed hawk shot past the guard and alighted on Falcon-eye's shoulder. The hawk shifted and fluffed up her feathers, trying to keep warm. Kohana hated the weather as much as Falcon-eye did. Now to find his cousin. How hard could that be? He doubted many argonians would choose to live here. Falcon-eye slowly made his way to the palace, assaulted by high winds and huge flakes of snow. He strode past a large house as shouts broke out and the ring of a sword pierced the air. He paused for a moment as the house plunged into stunted silence. A guard strode past and shot Falcon-eye a pointed look, "Everything all right?" "I think a fight just broke out inside that house, you might want to check." With that he continued on his way to the palace.

 

[DraconicPsycho]

Surprised by the sudden violence of Jarl Kendov, Reez gulped. "Damn! We could've sent him to the dungeons, there was no need for needless death...but it is for the good of windhelm...Zan'kir, I suggest you do as the Jarl says. My jarl, should I fetch the Parchment? To Solitude?" As much as windhelm needed allies, it was clear solitude would not be one of them. He looked at the dead body at the floor and shook he head. That was newly scrubbed carpet, now stained with blood. Reez, too, was surprised that a Breton had taken over solitude. He thought for a moment, thinking of a strategy. Then he realized Zan'kir hasn't killed the guard yet. "Well? What are you waiting for? Send this milk drinker to oblivion."

 

[Keidivh]

@wreckem_all OOC: phaha, I know right, puts Rolard's bigotry to shame!

Rolard stared at the war table as Ugdul spoke, grinning slightly. Seems like he has some tactical sense then after all. Strangling Markarth of supplies would weaken them, and give us the supplies we need. His thoughts were interrupted by his steward and sister Ellia.

"Beg pardon my king, but we cannot simply invade Markarth! Our nation is but a mewling babe compared to the ancient dynasties of the other holds. If we outright attacked with no cause, all of Skyrim would stand against us." She then cast a distasteful look towards the Orsimer, her sapphire eyes digging into his for a moment. It seemed Ugdul would have a hard time with the Seton family.

Rolard scratched at the bridge of his nose for a moment in frustration. Of course she was right. But he couldn't just sit back and watch Markarth continue to grow in strength and try and take over the holds surrounding him. He needed some kind of Casus Belli (valid reason) to attack. He walked over to one of the large windows in the throne room, staring out at the endless marshes that lay to the east. He then realized he was staring right at his answer.

"Hjaalmarch!" He exclaimed to no one in particular, causing some of the nobles to look around in confusion.

"What about that backwater hovel of a hold?" Lady Vicci sneered, to her the region was nothing but an eyesore. Rolard could expect nothing less from such a pompous, short-sighted Imperial.

"Markarth has moved troops into Hjaalmarch, treading upon sovereign ground, and as I recall taking Lady Brylings personal mines in the region. If we can gain Morthal's support, we can attack Markarth for invading a sovereign hold and seizing private properties!" Rolard looked around to gauge how his people felt about it. His banner-men were naturally eager, looking to expand their kingdom. Ellia looked annoyed but nodded her consent, which said a lot. Even Lady Bryling was smiling, happy to recover her lost mines.

There was no longer any doubt as to their next course of action. Solitude would not sit back on its haunches while the wolves moved in for the kill. Rolard stood before the throne, drawing out his family white ebony sword Saphfire, holding it high, "Call forth the banners! Let the boys know Solitude marches to war, and the liberation of Morthal!" The Breton lords assembled let out an excited cry, "Burning Bright!" They cried out in unison, before leaving to go to their respective holdings.

All of the nobles left the throne room then, leaving only Ellia, Vaynar, Ugdul, and himself. He looked to his brother, "Vaynar, call forth Grand Master Tyrael and have him gather a squadron of knights to accompany me. And Ugdul..." He turned to face the Orc once more, his glowing eyes showing excitement at the coming struggle. "I hope you have some friends in Morthal, because we are heading there now."