Stallion of Whiterun (Skyrim Balgruuf SI) Chapter 14 (Patreon)

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There was much ground for them to cover. Balgruuf wished to get to the Jarl of Markarth before the Jarl of Windhelm did for in his words, "It will create a devastating and catastrophic course of events that will screw us all." And Irileth, ever dutiful, went along for the ride. But it was not just her, however. For as they were riding out, Balgruuf, Irileth, and their party of riders chanced along his brother, his wife, and their mother ascending the steps towards Dragonsreach. Hrongar hailed his brother on where they were going and Balgruuf promptly yelled out Windhelm, to the east. Hrongar immediately wished to go with his brother for he always welcomed a chance to see more of Skyrim but Freydis simply placed a hand on his shoulder, smiled, and told him no. 

The matter was settled thusly and so, they left Whiterun swiftly with a small company of loyal riders. "When we arrive, we shall be staying at the Candlehearth Inn. Irileth, you go make your inquiries for your people while I go and try to secure a talk with the Jarl of Markarth," Balgruuf ordered. Irileth nodded, glancing briefly at the Ebony Blade hanging securely on her horses's pack. It was secured with wrapping as well as numerous charms and wards that kept it hidden and safe. If unwelcome hands would try to touch the thing, they would find themselves with far less fingers. As they went on, Irileth thought about how to contact her Guild. When Red Mountain erupted, the Morag Tong flew in all corners of the wind. Trying to find a safehouse would not be too hard for her, if she knew where to look. 

And so, they continued. Their journey went without issue. The roads were returning to normalcy and finding caravans of merchants plying the roads wasn't uncommong. Their path was easier when the obvious Whiterun colors they wore marked them as VIP's and not many were going to stop a noble and his retinue. Not unless they were bandits. 

In Skyrim's Interior, both local lords and the Empire had established mighty bulwarks and fortifications to provide a presence for their soldiers, offer security to the land, and hold important strategic positions. Such was their speed that the party chanced upon one such bulwark, the Valtheim Towers. These towers were built in the First Age by the ancient Nords to watch the lands east of the White River. A great bridge connected the towers together with the White River and a roaring waterfall below. On the Tower top, twin banners of Whiterun flew proudly. As the party neared, Irileth spotted men on the walkways and the towers, careful eyes watching the road. Activity on the towers increased when they themselves were spotted in the distance. From the base of the towers, a trio of men stepped out onto the road. When they neared, the men stood at attention. 

"Hail, my lord!" the lead man shouted, his armor sturdier and richer than his fellows. Balgruuf halted Felaróf and loomed down at the man. 

"Hail, Kinsman," Balgruuf greeted him neutrally. "What news from the East?"

"Eastmarch is quiet, my lord. Caravans come and go safely enough. There are rumblings of bandits on the road however, by way of Fort Amol." reported the guard. 

Balgruuf raised an eye at that news. "Bandits have taken over Fort Amol?" He asked with bemusement. The guard nodded. 

"Aye. some alliance of mages and common thugs," spat the guard. He did not approve of such people, bandits and mages alike. 

"If I remember correctly, there was an Imperial Prison nearby though I doubt the guards have fighting bandits as part of their duties," the Jarling rumbled. 

"Neither is it ours, my lord. I doubt the Jarl of Windhelm would appreciate it if we crossed into his borders to deal with them," the guard said, a slither of disappointment in his voice. Balgruuf nodded. 

"Neither would my father appreciate his troops crossing over without orders," he said with approval. "Keep to your post, happy guardsman." Balgruuf ended with a salute. 

"I would be a lot warmer and a lot happier with my belly full of mead, my lord," the guardsman replied cheekily, a chest salute in the Nordic fashion as he stepped back to let the party continue on. And they did so, quietly save for the snorting of the horses. Irileth watched Balgruuf and saw that he was contemplating something. She knew his looks when he was considering an idea. She trotted alongside him, her lips curled. 

"I assume you are thinking about storming a fort and killing those bandits?" Irileth asked. A look of mock scandal came upon Balgruuf. 

"That would be a violation of the business of other Jarls, Irileth!" Balgruuf said with a gasp. He then snorted, shaking his head as he continued. "If we acted as adventurers then we could go. Alas, we are obviously dressed in the colors of Whiterun. Besides, our business is in the city and not solving every single issue we come across." 

Irileth cocked her head. "I'm surprised. I thought you would jump at the chance to crack bandit skulls, my lord." 

Balgruuf laughed merrily. "Of course, if we do get attacked then we are in full rights to send them to Oblivion, where they belong." He then leaned in, patting Felarof's head as he sighed. "I hope we get attacked. I hate bandits." 

"Only a Nord would ever wish that," Irileth sighed, gripping the reigns to her horse. 

"Any good men and women who enjoy orderly roads would wish that!" Balgruuf said sagely. 

And thus they continued on, the road had become hilly and winding down a slope. To their right, everexpanding forest. To the left, the White River bubbling and foaming from the waterfall rocks. And to the distance, a view towards Eastmarch. From where they were, Irileth enjoyed a scene that ought to be captured in a painting. She could see geysers bubbling amidst pools of water, snow-capped hills and mountains, as well as Windhelm itself. The city was a shadow on ice, a monument to mankind's tenacity in the face of those trying to kill it. 

"Enjoying the view, eh?" Balgruuf hummed. 

"Tamriel is beautiful, I am not ashamed to admit it," Irileth said neutrally. "This ought to be captured by a painter."

"Who knows? Perhaps in the future, we could have devices that would allow us to capture moments of pure beauty and immortalize it there," Balgruuf said with a shrug. Irileth scoffed at that. 

Eventually, their road became flatter as their descent finished. Her ears twitched as she registered the song of birds, the cries of deer, and the bubbling of the White River to their side. Irileth took the moment to take in a breath of air. She sighed wistfully, enjoying the pureness of it. Here, there was just nature. No smoke, no war, no blood. Just untouched and untapped beauty. Oh, she did not have the senses of the Bosmer, the more nature attuned elves but that did not mean she couldn't appreciate what was around her. 

"I can see why you Nords love Skyrim so much," Irileth remarked, looking to the side. 

A chorus of ayes broke all around.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Balgruuf nodded, speaking for the party. He glanced over to her, humming. "I don't imagine Morrowind has such a view." 

"Morrowing has trees and rivers too, my lord. Well...had rivers and trees. Most of the province is under ash by now," Irileth sighed. She could still remember bits and pieces of her childhood there. A loving family, friends. All gone however when the Red Year happened and she was forced to strike out for herself. Balgruuf offered her an empathetic look. A look that Irileth rejected as she shook her head. "Do not offer me pity or soft words, my lord. I have long accepted what has happened. I do not even think I will see anyone I know from there ever again. Let us continue on with our mission." 

And with that, she ended discussion on that, content in simply glancing across. And just as she looked, they chanced upon a bridge. And in the distance, she could see the outlines of a fortification. That was the Fort Amol Balgruuf and the guard was discussing about. 

And it was on fire. Forts normally aren't aflame. 

Balgruuf and the other riders caught sight of what Irileth was staring at not a second later, their reflexes slower than the Dunmer's. 

"Looks like the fort is being attacked," Balgruuf said aloud. He glanced over at his men. "Anyone of you interested in helping out?" 

The Nords of his company said nothing. They merely donned their helmets and unsheathed their blades. Balgruuf grinned, taking out his own. "Well then! Let's get to it!" He roared as he spurred Felarof forward. "Onward, Men of Whiterun! Ruin to our enemies!" And thus, they sped off, the hooves of their horses thundering against stone towards the smoke of Fort Amol, towards the sound of blood-letting and battlecries, and billowing blue banners.

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A/N: Meeting Ulfric next chapter bois