193 Chapter LVI: The End of The Beginning

After my abrupt revelation, Torygg had us retreat to his office deeper within the palace. We spoke at length about what was to be done about our new situation and the upcoming crises. Later in the night, we were joined by the Steward and proposed plan after plan, countermeasure after countermeasure, ideas were thrown about, some angered shouting was had but by the time the sun had started to rise we had settled on a plan of action.

The King would immediately send a request for reinforcements from Cyrodiil, some of his more bellicose vassals disdained this idea but both of us firmly agreed that wasting men and even worse, civilians on petty pride was not acceptable.

The hidden recruitment effort we had started over a year ago will open up fully and the necromancer apprentices I sent his way would be used as easily deniable assets, this last bit was what caused most of the arguing but present a compassionate and dutiful man with a way to preserve lives and a "out of sight out of mind" mentality and he will eventually cave.

It was also decided that all available legionary officers were going to be employed to drill the disparate forces of the loyalist Jarls. True, this did come close to the whole "Creating a private army" idea that Torygg accused Ulfric of doing but we were already in open war, and being stupid about it was not going to help anyone win.

The Jarls would no doubt grumble, their glory-hungry thanes even more so... But a properly united force of all the holds' specialized warriors was going to be worth it.

Whiterun would provide the medium armored cavalry they were renowned for, Markarth would provide the heavy infantry, Winterhold the spellswords, and Morthal the skirmishers.

The forces of Solitude were too fresh and diverse to carry any specific strength but their already year-long preparation under the watchful eyes of Rikke would deliver something no other hold was able to: Disciplined numbers.

Quantity was a quality of its own after all.

That is not to say they were in any way bad soldiers, Solitude's common district housed the largest ironworks in the province and all of them were well-equipped and trained, just the kind of force needed for covering the vast frontline without suffering massive casualties.

Not to mention the tiny little fact that with the greatest force came the greatest presence, further reinforcing Torygg's authority over his kingdom.

As for our first move we settled on storming Falkreath in a three-pronged assault while leaving a good chunk of our forces on the borders to the other holds. A defeat in detail would serve us well here and defeating the cut-off rebel holds one by one was the wisest choice.

Winterhold had a month or two more to prepare than the rest and the plan there was to simply hunker down and ensure naval superiority while defending the hold in a siege. The Stormcloaks would either have to storm the city in one fell swoop, something which was a near impossibility considering just who lived there, or they would have to invest more and more men into a pointless siege.

Why were we so certain that the war may even last long enough for winter to come? One might find themselves asking this. Such personages would also forget that Ulfric had spent a long time preparing for his little rebellion and many of the loyalist holds had Stormcloak sympathizers within their walls, it wouldn't be as simple as storming his cities.

On the naval side of things, we were thankfully the ones with complete superiority. Even without counting the East Empire Company the fleets of Solitude and Winterhold were more of a match for the river boats of Windhelm and the longships of Dawnstar.

The worst we would have to expect were light raids but nothing more than that... Hopefully.

And finally my own place in our grand plan... that conversation was particularly frustrating. I had to focus on battling the supernatural threats happening during the war, that much was a given, but I was also expected to appear on the battlefield whenever the enemy decided to employ their clan mages.

A fair proposal all in all, just irritating.

I would also be providing some of my simpler automatons for the elite forces but nothing beyond that, I wasn't about to make tanks for the buggers.

"So much has been said and yet we could find out tomorrow that it was all for naught." I quip while enjoying some coffee "Our plans could be scrambled by but a single decision of Ulfric."

"Which is why we are preparing countermeasures as well." Falk easily retorts "Besides, it is as you have said, this is merely the basic plan for the early stages of the war."

I nod at him and stare off into the bland ceiling of the office when suddenly an idea strikes me "What about the Bretons?"

Torygg raises an eyebrow "The Bretons?"

"Indeed" I confirm "Are their knights not as glory-hungry as your own warriors? Why not invite a couple... fearsome adventurous youths to help you hunt vile bandits rising against the King's justice?"

Before Torygg can discount my idea Falk pipes in with a contemplative look "It isn't... impossible, we would have to offer some minor trade concessions but I can see the eastern Duchies sending a knight chapter or three to our aid."

"Offer to help them pacify the Reachmen on their side of the mountains." I add offhandedly "It would benefit both High Rock and Skyrim and you would even be able to profit from it if done correctly."

Now Falk was straight up expectant, something not often seen upon the stoic man's face.

Torygg wanted to comment upon the cruelty of my proposal but after receiving both of our stares he caved easily "Fine, you may write the proposals in my name." He waves it off "Stendarr knows that I could use some heavy cavalry."

"Magical heavy cavalry." I correct him.

Both of them give me puzzled looks "What do you mean by that?" Torygg is the one to ask.

"I have read a bit about our western neighbors and learned a fascinating little detail about what a 'Breton Knight' really is" I smirk conspiratorially "A skilled knight is both a heavy warrior and mage of the alteration and restoration schools."

"And why is this not more widely known?" Falk asks with doubt in his voice.

"Most Breton warriors are complete and utter shit, pardon my Aldmeri" I quip "Yet at the same time their elite forces are quite frankly ridiculous so requesting some of the more adventurous among their ranks to help us should not be too hard."

We all turn to contemplative silence after that, that is until Falk breaks it with his question "And what of your own forces, Lord Dagoth?"

I chuckle "What exactly are you expecting me to say? I have a dozen guards, three household warriors, and just as many half-restored Falmer magi, my house is not nearly as powerful as the name suggests."

"I am sorry" Falk raises a hand "My ears don't seem to be working right but I swear I have just heard you mention having Falmer in your ranks."

"You heard correctly." I state simply "I do believe you had the pleasure of meeting Nightshade."

Torygg tilts his head "Short, pale, white hair?"

"Indeed." I nod "That was a Falmer."

Both of them stare at me for what would have been an uncomfortable amount of time if I gave a shit about such things.

Finally, Falk grumbles something inaudible and says "I will just pretend that such things are to be expected for the sake of my mind and that of my King." Even Torygg looks at him weirdly for that one "How many of these Falmer are you capable of recruiting to the cause?"

I sigh "It has been incredibly slow going, only the magically capable among them can be transformed for now and they are not nearly strong enough to make up for the number deficiency."

"But!" I interrupt any further questions "You have no need to worry as I have a cunning plan!"

Both of the poor Nords sigh in perfect sync.

"I am going to reenact the Cult of The Sixth House in the Grey Quarter." I state simply. Surprisingly this was not a declaration of rebellion by me, as the house of Dagoth was still a member of the Empire due to the high autonomy the great houses enjoyed and my father being a Legate. In other terms, I had every right to establish myself within the Empire and no one could do a thing about it.

Once more I am greeted with perfect synchronicity "Oh."

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I returned to Winterhold as soon as I assured the two Nords I wasn't about to cause a plague in Windhelm. The last couple of days were tiring and the only thing I wanted at this point was to go to sleep and just forget all my problems for but a moment.

That was not to be as a college apprentice in the form of Fishy accosted me the moment it was known I had returned. Apparently the Archmage wanted me to join him in his quarters.

Far more curious than tired I made my way into the college and up the central tower. "Alright gramps, what did you need?" I ask aloud as I enter the opulent chamber.

The old Dunmer says nothing but simply approaches me and offers a hug.

Oh.

He invited me to sit and then offered all the advice for dealing with the situation he possibly could. Honestly it was kind of funny watching a centuries old man attempt to be a good grandfather and it even worked to some extent. The solidarity he offered helped far more than I could have ever expected it to.

We spent hours talking about our woes and both felt lighter for it.

Naturally the solemn atmosphere was utterly crushed into the dirt when Minthara decided it was the perfect time to interrupt us... at least she had the decency to knock.

"Hey Reyvin, I need to talk about something important." She says without any preamble.

I look at Savos "Thank you for the conversation it... helped."

He smiles sadly and nods.

Minthara and I leave Savos' quarters and emerge atop one of the nearby balconies "Alright, what did you want to talk about?" I ask.

"I..." She trails off before seemingly firming her resolve "I have learned that my family had a house in Bruma with a lot of our history there, I wanted to go and find out as much as I can before the inevitable comes."

(Minthara's POV)

'Please don't make this harder than it has to be, I need to go there.' I practically pray while he looks at me.

"So it was fate after all." He mumbles something I fail to hear before looking at me "You do realize this can very well be a plot to draw you into a vulnerable position, right?"

I clench my fist and sigh "I know but something tells me there is something important waiting for me there." I try, and likely fail, to offer a reassuring smile "Do not worry I will be back when I am needed."

He huffs, openly rolling his eyes "Of course you will." And then his eyes turn completely serious "I do hope that your source is trustworthy at the very least?"

I nod "An old family friend from the sprawl."

He palms his forehead seemingly in frustration "Very well, at least make sure to bring some help with you."

I chuckle at his worrying "Don't worry, Marco has agreed to come with me."

His look practically screams 'Are you fucking with me right now?' But then he huffs and doesn't comment and instead asks "Did you at least make sure your adopted siblings are safe before going around and galivanting your way into Cyrodiil?"

I roll my eyes "You were there when I visited them last, they will be fine for a couple of months while I am gone."

"Yeah, just leave it all to me why don't you." He grumbles but there is no heat to it.

"Right." I say awkwardly, unsure of what to further say I simply settle on "I guess I will see you later?"

An amused chuckle leaves him as he bows lightly "But of course, I do hope your little familial search goes well, miss Early-beard."

"What did you just ca-" I turn to where he was but he had already disappeared.

This motherfucker!

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