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The Second War	By : xjoedirtx Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 5026 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, nor do I own the characters. I did not make any money from this writing.

Chapter List
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“Make sure you take enough food for the trip,” cautioned Aela. Since she had married Brellin, she had learned to curb her animalistic side, albeit not completely, and become somewhat calmer and more reasonable. She loved her husband, and wanted him to be safe. She knew he would be, but Skyrim was still a dangerous place. No more so than on the roads.
            “Don’t worry, love, I have,” Brellin replied. He was packing a bag for his trip to Riften, and already packed food for the road. “I’ll be stopping in Ivarstead, so I’ll re-stock then if I need to.”
            “And be sure to keep Parela fed,” interjected Lydia. Brellin’s horse, Parela, was a fast horse, but needed to be fed often.
            “I will, don’t worry,” said Brellin with a smile. “Ladies, please, I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first trip to Riften, and it certainly won’t be my first time facing anything the world can send to attack me.”
            “Will General Tullius be accompanying you?” asked Aela.
            “No, he said he’ll meet me there. He has some business to attend to here in Whiterun before he makes his way out to Riften.”
            “How long will the trip be?” asked Lydia, in an almost childish curiosity. She had never been to Riften. In fact, she had never done much of anything before her time with Brellin. She was raised by Jarl Balgruuf as a warrior, but never saw much combat or travel until she was assigned to be the Thane’s housecarl. Of course, he opened her to more than just combat, of course.
            “About a three days ride if I go east, two if I start south,” he replied. “I think I’ll be going south, though. I want to visit a friend in Riverwood.”
            Before he could dress in his armor, he felt his wife pull him towards her. He turned and their lips quickly met as he wrapped his arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around the back of his neck. She broke the kiss and threw him into a sitting position on the bed, undressing after.
            “I really need to get going,” said Brellin reluctantly, smiling at his wife.
            “I know,” she replied, still undressing. “But if you’re being redeployed somewhere, you’re going to be gone for awhile, and I want to give you something to think about on the road.” She motioned for Lydia, who was still standing in the corner of the room, to approach them. “Lydia, why don’t you join too?”
            Lydia smiled and began undressing as she approached, getting out of her clothes quicker than Aela had. With the two of them at it, Brellin’s pants were off nearly instantly, his semi-hard member already beginning to perk up.
            “This is just for you,” teased Aela as she wrapped one hand around it and began stroking lightly, turning to kiss Lydia, who did the same.
            Brellin leaned back just a little, putting his hands behind him to prop himself up. Never in a thousand years would he have expected the two women that he loved to be doing this, yet it was happening before his eyes. Lydia was the first to break the kiss, and she put her lips around the top of his penis, lightly sucking on it while his wife continued to stroke his shaft. Aela moved her free hand to Lydia’s breasts and began playing with them. Brellin looked down at the sight of his wife, the wild and beautiful Aela, and his housecarl, the reserved and fair Lydia. They looked up at him, with their bright, innocent-looking eyes, and he couldn’t hold himself in anymore. He pulled Lydia off of his tip and spurted his semen into the air. It came down on the girls’ faces and breasts, some of it getting into Aela’s hair. It ran down the curves of Lydia’s breasts, dripping onto her thighs. Aela leaned in and licked off what had landed on her husband’s legs while Lydia cleaned off what ran down his shaft. When they finished, they licked off what had landed on their bodies.
            The two women stood up, moving onto the bed and sitting on either side of Brellin, each with one hand in his lap and one hand propping themselves up on the bed. They kissed each other just inches from his face, teasing him. Then they took turns kissing him. Finally, they decided to let him get up and get armored, since they had to get ready to see him off as well.
            Lydia got dressed and went to the stream that ran along the city wall, gathering water for in two large buckets for the three that lived in Breezehome. The water in that stream was clean, and used for things like drinking and bathing. Each house had a small drain that led to a larger drain that emptied outside the city walls to the east. When she returned, the three washed briefly, since they had not done so since the night before last. Aela applied a light layer of purplish-pink lipstick, and a small amount of eyeliner. She only wore her wolf-slash face paint when she was going into battle. Lydia didn’t put on any lipstick, but she did put on eyeliner, and the faintest trace of dark eye shadow. They both wore the same type of dark boots, but Aela wore a dark green dress that fit her slim figure, while Lydia wore a loose tan shirt with a brown, front-laced vest that wrapped under her breasts, accentuating them.
            They accompanied a fully-armored Brellin to the front gate and to his horse, which had already been loaded with his supplies by the stable master. Before he mounted his horse, he kissed both of his women goodbye.
            Like the night before, the three of them said ‘I love you’ simultaneously, and laughed at the surprise. Brellin mounted his horse and sped off.
            He travelled down the road south along the White River, reaching Riverwood within a couple of hours. He stopped off for a quick drink with Faendal, a fellow Bosmer. After the sharing of stories and the intrigue of Dragonsreach, Brellin continued on his way.
            The sun began drop low behind him as he passed through Helgen onto the road leading east. While there was still barely enough sunlight, Brellin stopped to make camp. He was only an hour from the border of The Rift, so he figured he would be able to make it into Riften before the next night. He dismounted Parela and led her to a small clearing just off the road. He set up a small tent for himself, and set some stones in a circle to make a fire pit. He took a small hatchet from his pack on Parela’s saddle and hacked off some thin tree branches, using them for firewood. After setting the fire, Brellin unpacked a slice of salted and wrapped raw venison that Aela had packed for him, placing it on a flat stone that he raised above the fire with some smaller rocks.
            After his dinner, he was about to change out of his armor, before he heard a noise out in the darkness. It was quite a distance away, but Brellin’s heightened sense of hearing caught on to nearly everything within half a mile of him. And whatever he heard out there was approaching him, slowly. Their attempt at stealth would be their death.
            In a single swift motion, Brellin grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow, drew, and fired, eliciting a scream of pain from whatever was out there.
            Suddenly, he heard an Orc voice shouting “Go, go, go!”
            Three bandits, the Orc and two Nords suddenly dashed forwards through the darkness, their skin illuminated by the moonlight and the glints of the fire. Brellin fired another arrow, striking one of the Nords through the gut. As the other Nord and the Orc approached closer, weapons draw, Brellin drew his blades.
            The Nord was the first to reach him, a steel blade in one hand and an iron shield in the other. He raised his blade arm high in the air, opening his body to Brellin, who ducked low and rose into the Nord, plunging his daedric dagger deep into the Nord’s stomach, the barb on the underside of the curve of the blade pulling out chunks of his intestines as he removed it. In that time, the Orc closed the distance and swung his war hammer, missing Brellin by mere inches. Brellin deftly spun to the side of the Orc, slashing both blades at his arm and cutting deep. The Orc shouted, more in anger than pain, and readied his hammer for another swing. Before he could take it, though, Brellin threw one of his daggers at him, piercing his chest dead-center, causing him to drop the hammer. Brellin rounded behind him, drew the blade to his throat, and sliced it open. It was his favorite way to finish an opponent in close combat, and he never passed an opportunity to do it. After he dispatched of his assailants, he cleaned his blades, sheathed them, and laid down in his travel bedroll to get some sleep.
            When the sun rose a few hours later, Brellin packed up and set off for Riften, arriving within a few hours, much earlier than he had anticipated. When he arrived, he stabled his horse and headed straight for the Ratway. It wasn’t his first time there, and the drawbridge leading directly into the Ragged Flagon was already down. He crossed it and entered, passing into the underground tavern that served as the meeting hub for the Thieves Guild.
            Brynjolf, one of the leaders of the guild, met him at the bar.
            “So you’re the one Tullius wants in charge of this outfit,” he said as Brellin approached him. “You seem like the sneaky sort. What are you doin’ workin’ for the Legion? You should join the guild instead.”
            Brellin laughed. “I think I’ve got enough on my plate as it is. So you’re supposed to take me to-“
            “Not another word,” Brynjolf interrupted. “Not out here. Follow me.”
            Brynjolf led Brellin deep into the Warrens. On the way, Brellin got a bit curious.
            “So what’s a member of the guild doing working for the Legion?” he asked. “I thought you were supposed to be laying low, hiding in the shadows and things like that?”
            Brynjolf chuckled. “Tullius has half of the guild working as spies. We operate with damn near complete immunity from the Legion, so long as we pass along any information we think is important. When Riften was a Stormcloak city, we gave the General intel on more than one occasion that saved his troops asses. We still give them information in return for immunity, just not as often since the war.”
            After half an hour, they reached a heavily locked door. “Here we are,” said Brynjolf. “Everyone’s inside waiting. I’ll be out here to keep an eye out for trouble.” Brellin nodded and entered.
            The room was dimly lit, only candles mounted around the walls kept it bright. It wasn’t very large, but there was enough room for a meeting. In the middle was a large table with eight chairs around it, a tin mug in front of each. To the right were four bunk beds lined against the walls, making eight beds. Directly behind the table was a large, filled bookshelf. To the left were two circular tables in each corner, with two chairs by them. Inside were six people, three men and three women. A male Argonian leaned against the bookshelf, reading. Sitting on one of the most distant bunks was a young Redguard girl. On the bunk next to her was an Orc woman. At the tables in the corner were a blonde Imperial woman, and twin Bretons. The Argonian was the first to notice Brellin’s entrance.
            “So you must be Brellin,” hissed the Argonian. “The General told me about you. They call me Blade-Biter.”
            “Blade-Biter?” asked Brellin. “That’s interesting.”
            Blade-Biter laughed. “Yes, yes, I know. Back home in Black Marsh, I got into a fight with some would-be assassins. One of them swung his blade down at me, and I blocked with my bare hand. What they didn’t know was that I had a steel claw under my glove. Long story short, they ended up with more than one claw-mark on their corpses.”
            “Why were they after you?” asked Brellin.
            “Because Shadowscales are always hated for killing people’s family members.”
            Brellin smiled. “You’re a trained assassin? Good.”
            Blade-Biter smiled, and walked away. Brellin approached the twin Bretons, who were talking with the Imperial woman.
            “You must be the leader, then,” opened the woman.
            “I guess so,” replied Brellin. “Who are you?”
            “I’m Vex,” she responded. “I work with the Thieves Guild. Brynjolf thought I would work well with the unit. You know, since I am a master with lock picks.”
            Brellin smiled, and the two Bretons laughed. “That could come in handy.” He turned to the brothers. “What about you two?”
            The one on the right spoke first. “I’m Tynan,” then the left one spoke. “I’m Tyman. If you need some powerful magic,” The right one spoke again. “We’re the ones you want.”
            Confused, Brellin raised an eyebrow. “Do you two always do that?”
            “Do what?” they asked simultaneously.
            “Finish each other’s sentences.”
            The twins laughed. “Not really,” said the one on the right. “Depends on if we’re together,” finished the one on the left.
            Brellin sighed in annoyance, but it went right past the Bretons.
            “I can tell you’re just as annoyed by them as I am,” opined the Orc woman from behind Brellin. He turned to face her. “The name’s Shel “The Mammoth” Gra-Shagk, but you can just call me Shel.”
            Brellin noticed that she was wearing heavy armor. “Tullius said that his men gathered the best in stealth and secrecy. That armor looks like it can be heard for miles around.”
            Shel stepped forward, coming to within inches of him and looking directly into his eyes, angrily. “That’s why they call me The Mammoth. I’m not sneaky. I face things up-front and directly. You need someone to rush into a fight, or cause a distraction? I’m the one you go to. Cause I can take any hit from any weapon you can throw at me. And if you question it again, I’ll break your little Elf bones, got me?”
            Brellin smiled and nodded. A warrior like that was a bit of a change from the rest of the group, but would definitely have a place if they really were to be used as assassins. He next looked over to the young Redguard girl, who was sitting in a corner, distanced from the rest of the group. She looked to be around eighteen, maybe nineteen. As Brellin approached her, she looked up at him, a look of restrained fear on her face.
            “You look a little young to be here,” he said. “What’s your name?”
            “Umm, I’m D-d-danica,” she replied, stammering. “Danica B-b-brown-Bow.”
            “Are you okay?” Brellin asked. “Are you cold?”
            She shook her head. “N-no. I j-just stammer a lot. I d-d-don’t know why, I’ve been d-doing it since I was a little k-kid.”
            Brellin folded his arms. “You still seem little to me,” he said, jokingly.
            Danica smiled. “I’m y-young, but I’m one of the b-b-best archers in Hammerfell. And I’m g-good with a dagger, too.”
            As she said this, the door opened, and in walked General Tullius. He carried a large roll of parchment under his right arm that Brellin figured was a war map.
            “Ahh, it seems I’m the last to arrive, then,” he said. “I hope you’ve all gotten acquainted with each other. You’ll need to have the utmost trust in each and every other person in this room if you are to succeed in the mission I’m giving you.”
            “What exactly is this mission?” hissed Blade-Biter.
            “Yeah,” interjected Tynan. “What are we all doing here?” asked Tyman.
            General Tullius unfurled the roll of paper across the table, revealing a map of the entire Empire. All across it were lines in red, drawn alongside some black lines, which Brellin assumed were roads. On other roads were blue lines, leading all across Tamriel. In some places along the blue lines were red X’s, and in some places along the red lines were blue O’s. Red squares were placed in certain areas across the map, a great distance from each other, with only two or three per region. However, red and blue triangles were scattered across the map. Most of the red triangles were a short distance from the blue lines, and had lines drawn between them and the red X’s.
            “The lines on this map represent troop and supply lines,” revealed the General. “Blue lines are Legion lines, and red, of course, are Thalmor-controlled lines. The X’s are positions where our lines are at their most vulnerable, whether they be openly exposed or incredibly isolated from the rest of our troops. The red triangles are small Thalmor installations throughout Tamriel, and the lines leading from them to the X’s are the most probable points of attack on our lines, while the blue circles are the most vulnerable points on their lines. The squares are major Thalmor installations, forts, and the like. Places that can deploy large amounts of troops in a short time.”
            “What does any of this have to do with what we’re here for?” asked Shel. “Are we going to be killing the Thalmor at the triangles?”
            The General chuckled. “Yes, and no. Let me explain. I have brought you together here to form what I am calling the Sixth Shadow Unit. You will be the invisible arm of the Empire. I’ll be assigning you to assassinate and attack key Thalmor operatives and agents, as well as military commanders. The point of this map is to show you the coverage of enemy territory as well as friendly territory. The majority of your assignments will take you deep into enemy-held areas. You will be without support for days at a time, and if you are caught we cannot assist you. The Thalmor will kill you on sight. In the First Great War, these tasks were carried out by The Blades, however when we lost, the Thalmor took it upon their own accord to hunt down every last member of the Blades. The very few survivors are left to hide all around Tamriel, not daring to show their faces. You will be taking up their former duty.”
            Brellin folded his arms and took a hard look at the map. “Why the Sixth?” he asked. “Are we not the only unit?”
            General Tullius smiled. “Not to the enemy you aren’t. You will wear a patch on your armor bearing a large ‘VI’, indicating your unit number, and you will each carry one into battle. Before you leave, one of you will leave the patch on your target’s body. The Thalmor will think that there’s five more assassin units out in Tamriel, hunting them down. It will increase their fear and paranoia, which is something we can use against them.” He looked back at the map. “Shel, to answer your earlier question more specifically, you will be raiding some of the smaller camps when time permits, as well as periodically striking their line’s weak points. Many Bosmer died to bring us this information. We must use it well.”
            The General turned to face Brellin. “I’ll pass to you the information from my sources, and you will lead in the field. Make sure the jobs get done, and none of the unit gets killed.”
            Brellin nodded. “Yes sir. Where is the first target?”
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The Second War