[b][i]The most incredible collaboration between Dervs, Shafty, Morty and Frizzle[/i][/b]

It was odd. It was the first time Jorwen had the chance to truly appreciate a view. But this was not one he liked. Rows of them, like crops, waiting to spring up and be harvested. Always the same after a battle. Men stood around them, talking about how the men they'd buried were good, how they fought to the last breath, how they'd be missed. Always the same after a battle. He'd said the words over White-Eye's grave, but the funny thing was how the words came out like he was reading from a script. The words sounded the same as when they buried Thrice-Pierced, when they buried Aelfgar, and everyone else down the long line. They'd all left, Cleftjaw to tend to Solveig and the rest of the grayheads who knew White-Eye or at least his name and deeds left to go about their business.

That's how it always was for men of great and bloody deeds, who felled their foes and made their enemies quake. Covered up, given some words, a few misty eyed mentions at the fire, and then forgotten. Jorwen squeezed a handful of turned earth and let it dribble out of his hand in clumps. He sniffled and looked out at the roiling sea and then to the pillars of smoke rising up from the farms, made kindling for the fire, as if the giants were trying to smoke the Gods from their heavens. He had an urge to grab his weapons and charge at them in a moment of red and furious slaughter like the Red-Bear would've reveled in, but he wasn't young enough or strong enough. Or stupid enough. He heard someone's footsteps behind him and he addressed them without turning, "Don't let this appearance fool you, I'm very fucking joyous."

"This one thought as much, Jorwen. Nords are such a serious people, looks of murderous intent often are confused with mirth this one finds." Do'Karth said, using his quarter staff as a walking stick. His leg was throbbing considerably. He glanced up at the city walls for a moment, watching the guards pacing with torches or staring longly out at the bay, perhaps wishing for a ship to take them from their posting before the invaders returned to try their luck once more. "Perhaps you would prefer to be left to your own devices? The others seem to be finding solace within each other's company within the tavern, but tonight did not seem to be one for revelry, and Do'Karth is not one to drink away his sorrows." he tapped his temple with a padded finger. "A clear mind, a clear consciousness, no?"

"You're mostly right. I've tried to drink away my problems but they were waiting patiently for me to get a clear mind again." He shrugged and blew out a steaming sigh, "Today's not a day for taverns and drink. A lot of men just buried friends. I'm one. But I find stewing in it doesn't help any. The dead don't need your sorrows. At least it's not my daughter under here." He turned to Do'Karth, "You two should meet sometime."

"If she is anything like her father, then she is sure to be a most lovely individual." Do'Karth said with a grin. "Perhaps tomorrow you could introduce us. This one enjoys meeting new people, such stories to behold. Shall we?" He asked, gesturing for the two of them to continue walking. "This one was contemplating asking Mara to help ease the suffering of our wounded... this one has done what he could to ease their suffering, to help them heal, but there are too many and our friends at the docks are hardly gentle. Do'Karth anticipates the coming days will be even worse.  What if we must abandon the city?" he asked.

Jorwen nodded, bending down to pat the wet dirt, "We'll meet sometime, you stubborn old prick. Just not too soon." He rose to his full height and stretched his arms up towards the sky and yawned, "And abandoning the city? We're in a siege. They'll have a party just waiting with open arms down the road. They're sacking our farms so we have no food. They know what they're about, these things." Jorwen shook his head, "We've got help from these folk here, but there still isn't enough of us. You ever done this in your travels before?" Jorwen chuckled. They found themselves on the docks soon enough. The only corpses there were a few of the giants. The red mass that had been one was still lying there and they passed through the gates, stared after by three tired-eyed guards.

"An odd choice of locations if one wanted to not think about today, this one feels." Do'Karth observed, regarding the location where he and the others had struggled to take down even one of the invaders. His leg screamed at him at the prospect of doing it againt the next day. The Moon Sugar would help with that, at least, but there was no promise of an easy sleep, of which he did not know where he would do so. "As for escaping a siege, well, this one suspects you have never met a khajiit who has had a series of daring escapes under his belt." Do'Karth said, looking for somewhere to sit, and deciding to angle towards the end of the dock. The sound of water lapping against the wooden frame was soothing. "But sieges and large scale warfare are largely new to this one. He suspected that life would be somewhat empty unless he had at least one war to boast of." the khajiit chuckled, setting himself slowly to lean against a post, his staff helping his decent. He sighed in relief, rubbing his throbbing thigh. 

Jorwen looked at Do'Karth rub at his leg and frowned, "Never healed right, eh?" Jorwen lifted up his shirt to show his scars before he sat down and pointed to one at his ribs, "Spear. Khajiit sentry was having a nap until a lad stepped on a twig. The lad got the worst of it, thrust to the neck. Sentry turned around and poked me in the chest. Only barely survived because one of the men I escaped with was a battlemage and a healer. I've got a few escapes under my belt." He nodded to the pained leg, "How'd you get it?"

"Forgive Do'Karth for not removing his trousers to share scars." the khajiit smiled wearily, his face softening. "It was also a spear... this one made a rather uncharacteristic mistake. He lost sight of what was important." he said without elaborating, opening the front of his robes. Several scars and patches of bare skin were visible through the fur. "Other reminders of the same mistake. Do'Karth is not sure why he survived, but it was enough for him to learn that the world was not what it had always seemed. Fate is a compelling teacher."

It wasn't long before Sagax began to feel restless and jittery. The mead may not have helped with that, but that's beside the point. Putting the now empty bottle down, Sagax stood up and stretched tersely. He really was out of his element, far too used to the temperate climate of central Cyrodiil. The frigid air would take some adjusting to, but until then, the cold would be hell on his body. He decided that running around some more would help him at least feel warmer if nothing else. The Imperial waved and said his farewells to the company around him and headed back out the door into the cold gray of Windhelm. 

Unable to find anything to keep himself busy inside the city itself, Sagax made his way back through the gates to the docks, though he was loathe to do so. The scent of death could still be sensed, but he told himself to just suck it up and ignore it. Besides, this was one of the only places that Sagax was sure that someone would need help. Something, anything, big or small it didn't matter. He just wanted to keep his skinny legs moving.

To his disappointment(?), nobody had any menial tasks to be done. The pyres were going strong and the dead that were intended to be buried had already been dealt with. Scanning the piers, though with no real reason to it, he thought he saw a familiar figure at the end of one. Squinting slightly, he made the person out to be Jorwen. With him was a Khajiit that Sagax had never met before. With nothing better to do and no one calling for his aid, the hooded man decided to go and see how they were doing.

Just like with Sagax, it wasn't long before Tsleeixth left Candlehearth Hall, following more or less the Imperial man's example, not to mention that after his little coughing fit he felt as if he needed some fresh air.  But that was only after he had thanked both Sevine and Rhasha'Dar profusely for the potion and the offer of medical help respectively, along with giving Utu-Ja a kind pat on his shoulder and some kind words.

He had some trouble opening the door of the inn, what with one arm on a sling, but eventually he found himself standing in Windhelm's streets, the cold air hitting his face. With no clear destination in mind, Tsleeixth began wandering the streets of the besieged city until his feet unconsciously dragged him back to the docks. There he found Sagax, whom he recognized by the clothes he wore, heading towards a pair of men, whom were indistinguishable to him in the distance, that were by the end of the pier.

Unsure of what to do, he decided to follow Sagax  until he realized that the pair of figures that the Imperial was heading towards was none other than Do'Karth and Jorwen himself.  Realizing this, the Argonian hurried his step so he was next to Sagax, "Greetings once more Sagax. Seems neither of us were in the mood to stay at Candlehearth Hall." He told the Imperial man, having tapped him on the shoulder to announce his presence, and gave him a friendly smile "Well, shall we join them?" Asked the Argonian spellsword as he motioned  towards Do'Karth and Jorwen boffe he turned to face them, waving his good arm at them as a greeting. 

Halfway down the pier, Sagax felt someone make themselves known via touching his shoulder. Looking over, he saw Tsleeixth, arm still in a sling. "Oh, hey there. Yeah I got a tad restless. Someone squirrelly like me just has to be moving. Can't stand being idle." Following Tsleeixth's gesture with his eyes, Sagax continued forward. "That's the plan, yeah." He said as he took short, quiet steps towards Jorwen and Do'Karth, though he didn't really intend to, it was just how he walked. He learned early in his teen years to make his footfalls as quiet as possible.

Voices and footsteps on the docks caught Do'Karth's attention and he noticed the argonian he had helped earlier, Tsleeixth, heading towards Jorwen and himself with an unfamiliar Imperial in tow. Apparently they weren't the only ones who had the idea of getting way from the chaos of Windhelm's interior, and the khajiit offered them both a lazy raised hand in the form of a greeting. "My friends, to what does Do'Karth owe the pleasure?"

Tsleeixth flashed Do'Karth a smile "Oh,I just wasn't in the mood to stay in the inn" Said the Argonian to the Khajiit, not feeling like telling him about his coughing fit in the middle of Candlehearth Hall and the fact that he had Bloodlung was now more widely known "So, I decided to go out for a stroll"  He said "Oh, and this is Sagax by the way" He said,more sending the Imperial man to the Khajiit before he turned to face Sagax "And this is, like you have probably guessed, Do'Karth" Said he spellsword as he moved closer to the Khajiit, leaning against a wall

Jorwen turned to the pair and smiled. He could never tell Argonians apart, but he knew the only two Argonians in the company, and the one before him wasn't Utu. This was the one with the impossible name, so he only nodded, "It's good to see more faces still live after this." He smiled at Sagax, "How was your second battle?"

Bowing slightly to the Khajiit, Sagax greeted the beastman. "Hail, Do'Karth. A pleasure to meet you." Turning to Jorwen, he returned the Nord's smile. "It was...an experience, for sure. I'm just hoping our next encounter with the giants will be more definitive." Pausing shortly, he continued with a grin. "In our favor, of course. We'll make them regret stepping foot on Tamriel, yeah?" Shifting the sword on his belt into a position where it wouldn't annoyingly slap against his leg, Sagax addressed both Jorwen and Do'Karth. "So, how have you two been holding up? That last encounter was rather rough."

Do'Karth nodded appreciatively towards the Imperial. "Likewise, a pleasure." He glanced at Jorwen, remembering the fuming anger he had discovered his Nord friend in not long ago. "The day has been trying. This one has been on many adventures, but perhaps the next one should not be so... final." he said, offering a weak smile in the way of apology. "Do'Karth thought he should enjoy what freedom he could outside of the gates while time remains. Who knows if we will be permitted to stand outside the gates again when the next wave arrives?"

Tsleeixth smiled at  Jorwen, chuckling softly when he didn't pronounce his name and merely greeted him with a nod of his head "It's Tsleeixth for future reference." Said the Argonian, a hint of humor in his voice as he smile but before he continued speaking , Sagax began answering Jorwen's questions. He fell silent as the young Imperial man spoke, scratching his chin slightly out of boredom  as his tail twitched lazily. He was about to speak once more when he heard Sagax making a question to both Do'Karth and Jorwen, and so the aargonian spellsword maintained his silence as the Khajiit answered.

Once the Khajiit was done speaking he turned to look at Sagax, throwing at him a mock accusatory glance  "Truth be told I haven't been holding well either, like Do'Karth said, the day's been trying....we've lost too many men for what few of those Kamal bastards we took down." Said the Argonian, a mix of sorrow and anger innhis tone, giving a brief glance to the arm in the sling at he mention of the kamals "Some truth be told, I am not holding well,mI wish we could have something more to weaken them." Said Tsleeixth, his shoulders slumped down as he looked to the ground for a second, kicking a pebble towards the dock's waters, 

He stayed silent for a few seconds, breathing to try and calm himself down before he turned to face Jorwen "How are you doing? I saw you and that dunmer, the one who lacks the arm, taking down one of the beasts, are you hurt?" He asked the Nord man, he knew that he was probably threading on thin ice -the man had most likely lost comrades and wouldn't be in the best of moods- but Tsleeixthz's question was motivated mainly by concern for the old warrior that stood in front of him, Soemthing that was evident by the kind tone in his voice.

"I've had worse wounds. I'll need new mail and my helm is useless, but I've still got all of me." Jorwen squinted off at the water and sighed, "I'm alive. We're alive." Jorwen frowned, "That's all you can ever hope for in this line of work."

In truth, he didn't know what to do with himself. He needed these people around him just as much as he wanted to be alone. He wanted to double over and bawl like a child just as much as he wanted to tear out the Gods' throats that spun ill fates. But he'd never see a god and it wouldn't do for a man like Red-Bear to cry. "And we have the salts. Me and the old Dunmer made sure to get as many crates as we needed. We'll give them something tomorrow. We'll put fear in them." He took a breath and opened his eyes when he was done with it, "And I don't reckon we'd be meeting them in the open again with what we've seen happen. Going against them was a narrow victory at our strongest and we're not that anymore. We need these walls, they're the only thing keeping them from strutting in and killing the lot of us."

He remembered Greenwall, where he had the fort taken from him in the night by Black Sutt and then wrested it from him and he became a companion for a time. He remembered breaking the siege of Riften, remembered seeing Whiterun starved out. Remembered Markarth, and all the blood that followed that made the name Red-Bear a curse in the Reach and hated. Remembered the redoubt. They all had walls, but they only lasted as long as the people on them. Not long. "A siege. This won't be fun, it'll feel like the Deadlands, being honest. But when we make it, our names'll be some of the hardest around, mark me on that." He nodded at Sagax, "That enough glory for your plan to work?"

Offering a sly smile, Sagax crouched down next to the Red-Bear. "If I get a summons from the Imperial Council, you'll be the first to know, Jorwen. If not...well, the gods seem to have it out for us. As much as I'd like us to get a rabbit-hunting contract or something simple like that, there's probably going to be a lot more of this..." He waved his hand in all directions. "...kind of nonsense." Staring into the reflection of himself in the water of the river, he noticed just how dirty he had gotten since he arrived in Skyrim. No scars just yet, but plenty of grime. Trying to rub away the marks did no good. He'd need at least four baths to clean it all up. No time for that, though. Perhaps when he could get back to the Imperial City, when he was much less busy. But certainly not in the middle of a siege. "But we've gotten this far, haven't we? Plenty more chances for glory and whatnot in the future, I'd predict." He paused and laughed shortly. "Though I wouldn't go searching for it! I'm no fool. Searching for glory will only find you trouble."

The Argonian listened as Jorwen spoke, answering his question but not addressing himself in particular "Yea, I suppose that at the end of such battles all we should be thankful for is being alive." Said Tsleeixth in a sombre tone, looking for a second at his arm that rest on a sling and on the blade that he had recuperated. The former needed healing before he could use it without why risk of injuring himself, while the latter probably needed to be repaired if not outright replaced, perhaps the same with his armor,  A few minutes of silence passed as Red-Bear said nothing, as if debating with his emotions, but in the end the silence was broken by his own words  "Yes, you are probably right, wonder why the salts affect them in such way though, and if we could find any form to use them more effectively against them." He said, the inquisitive part of his mind beginning to ponder on the mystery of the fire salts and why they affected the Kamal in such a way.

He listened when Jorwne said that they wouldn't be meeting the Kamal in the open one more. He was right,mid they tried such a tactic the most likely result would be that the company would be mostly -if not entirely- decimated while they would only manage to rise down a dozen Kamal or so. He nodded when the Nord warrior said that they needed the walls, his mind turnig towards any sort of traps they could set to hinder the kamal's advance towards the walls. 

The spellsword nodded when Jorwen said that it was going to be a siege, but let himself laugh when he mentioned they if they would earn lots of prestige, enough to be able to accomplish Sagax's plan. He chuckled softly when Sagax said that if he got an invitation from the Imperial Council, major when would be the first to know "Aw, and what about me? Should I stay in the sidelines?" He asked Sagax, obviously joking before he gave the imperial man a pat on the shoulder "Don't worry, I am sure that in the battle to come there'll be enough glory for all of us, no need to chase it my friend." Said Tsleeixth, laughing a little but it was obvious that he was preoccupied "But seriously Sagax, don't do anything stupid, alright?" Said the Argonian to the Imperial man giving him a friendly squeeze on the shoulder along with a confident smile, but his eyes betrayed the nervousness and apprehension that he felt at the coming battle. 

"Oh I have no doubt about that, Tsleeixth. Plenty of it to go around for sure." Thinking of the battle ahead and Tsleeixth's words, Sagax's mind went back to the last letter he recieved from Piper. Don't do anything stupid, and no heroics. He thought about his poor mother and how she must have been feeling. It was difficult to imagine Piper or his mother in such a down state. Not because they simply didn't have emotions, they most certainly did, though his sister was the stoic type and hid her feelings while Equa was someone who was always faithful and supportive, hardly showing anything other than motherly concern. It was difficult to think about because it made him feel horrible and even guilty, putting such an emotional burden on his family. It made him want to go back home. He knew he couldn't though, not while his father rotted in that damned cell. 

He'd definitely need to alter his letter a bit to include the siege. Piper was always an inquisitive woman, she'd figure out eventually, and she'd give Sagax hell if he tried to keep that information from her, so he thought it better to just be honest. Maybe if his family back home knew about the siege and that he not only survived it, but also the assault on the redoubt, it would build more confidence in them and they'd worry less.Or...maybe it wouldn't, and he'd have a very furious lecture about needlessly risky actions and misguided notions of pride and sacrifice to come home to. That made Sagax smile a bit; seeing Piper angry was abolutely hilarious to him for some reason; she'd start a tangent and then he'd laugh, and then she'd get even angrier and it would be even funnier...must be a sibling thing, he guessed.

"So, Do'Karth, what do you think of Skyrim? I just got here, myself, and I find it quite beautiful."

The khajiit had been listening thoughtfully to the conversation that had evidently continued amongst the argonian and Imperial before they discovered Jorwen and himself and deciding all the talk of siege and hardships was making him rather peckish; he'd have to store some food away for the long days ahead. The question Sagax posed to him broke him out of his contemplation and was much more encouraging than the talk of doom that had been the rule of the day. "Skyrim is a beautiful land... this one considers it a wonder. The people may be hard and rude, but Do'Karth hardly holds that against them. He suspects he would have a mudcrab-like disposition if he had to live in the cold for overly long." the khajiit let out a throaty chuckle, making eye contact with the Imperial. "Do'Karth has heard of hot springs to the East he is most interested in inquiring about, and seeing mountains is nothing short of astonishing. Do'Karth has never quite seen something like that before, the ones in Hammerfell seem pitiful in comparison."

"The land juts up to get in your way, the rivers flow white and fast enough to break men, the winds rend flesh and the snow turns all it touches black and frozen." Jorwen smiled and had himself a laugh, "It's only natural we liked the place. We had to conquer it before it let us settle and we thrived. You'll find our women a little like that too." He chuckled, "You should hear how my wife and I met."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and looked down the docks to see Cleftjaw waving him on. He nodded and rose, "I'd best check on my daughter. Reckon you should come along," he pointed to Karth, "Think I need an opinion. See you lot."

"Always a competition with you Nords." Do'Karth observed, rising up to his feet with the assistance of his staff. He offered the two others a nod of the head and a smile as he stretched his aching limbs."Tomorrow, Do'Karth will join you gentleman in greeting our friends when they return, but for now, it would seem his thoughts are needed. Shall we go?" he asked.

Several minutes later, Jorwen and Do'Karth were back in Windhelm, which despite the hour, was still bustling with preparations for the day to come. It was encouraging, at least; idle hands often meant unprepared men. "So, what kind of opinion are you looking for?" he asked after some length.

He pushed the door to the warehouse open, "You'll see." They meandered through the warehouse, stepping over bleeding men, groaning men, dead men too. They finally got to where Cleftjaw was waving them over and Jorwen sat beside his daughter, sleeping soundly on his bedroll. "This. She was unconscious, her face was broken in." He bit his lip and took a breath, the words almost catching in his throat before he cleared it, "Vurwe, the She-Elf, healed her with magic, but she still sleeps. I've seen wounds like this, but... but do you think she'll wake?"

The khajiit set his staff and goods down and knelt beside the young woman, checking her vitals and to see how her face was set. From what he could tell, the Vurwe individual's healing was adequate and the bone damage had been mended, but it was impossible to say without being able to see within the wound. The fact that the woman was not reacting to his touch and felt smooth and not shifting was encouraging. "It is Do'Karth's opinion that there is little else to be done except to have her rest. She is breathing fine, her pulse is steady, and she appears to have a slight fever, but that is to be expected when one's body is struggling to mend itself." he said, looking up at Jorwen. "This one believes she will wake, in time. If you prefer, Do'Karth can stay with her to watch over her condition and be there if she wakes. Until she says where she hurts or what feels wrong, there is not much else this one can do."

Jorwen nodded, "Mm." It was a good sleep, then. Jorwen couldn't have asked for more good fortune without asking for a miracle. He looked to Do'Karth, "That would be good. Least of all, you wouldn't have to fight one of those things with your stick." He laughed. He stroked Solveig's bent jaw and sighed, "They call this a naming wound. A wound bad enough to be named after. Some people are named for deeds or what they look like, like Red-Bear."

Cleftjaw chuckled, "Naming wounds." He pointed to his own face, where his black stubble refused to grow around the nasty scar on his bent jaw, "My name? It's Cleftjaw."

"Reckon Solveig'll need a name. O'course, wouldn't want to make it too close to another's." Jorwen sucked his teeth and shrugged, "Maybe we'll wait for her to wake and you'll meet her proper. Then we'll name her." He smiled at Do'Karth, "Her name is Solveig, by the way. She has a sharp tongue, fiery temper. Good luck handling her when she wakes."

The khajiit grinned at Jorwen and Cleftjaw. "Well, no one can fault you Nords for getting right to the point. This one admits curiosity at the colourful nicknames, but it would seem they largely stem from the fact you are too stubborn to move away from things that want to kill you." he looked over at Solveig, a curious name. "Perhaps you could call her 'Unbreakable.' She seems to be one of the few to face the might of the Snow Demons without emerging as a red mist. Do not worry for Do'Karth; he's handled his share of firey women." quickly raising his paws in mock surrender, he added. "This one promises not to lay a hand on Jorwen's daughter. He prefers to keep them where they are. Now, get some sleep, yes? Do'Karth will do the same after some meditation."