Outside of Orcish Stronghold Narzulbur
10th of Sun’s Height
Lieutenant Eviake
Lieutenant Eviake sat atop of his
Nanouk, a two thousand kilogram, silver-furred, eight-legged bear. Nanouks were the staple of Kamal riders, they were often the vanguards that charged into the Thousand Isles, in a time before the alliance. The expeditionary forces only had a limited stock of these fearsome creatures, as the tight quarters of ships were inadequate for transporting and maintaining animals.
There was a series of structures ahead of him, structures that were different from the typical Nordic types the Kamals encountered. There was a longhouse on the mountain side, surrounded by small huts and enclosed within wooden palisades. There was no mistaken it, it was a stronghold.
And a stronghold was something they are prepared against. Behind Eviake and his line of Nanouk riders were a dozen of Farismes. The Farismes were magical constructs unique to the Kamals, they were essentially four to eight ice wraiths bonded together with alteration and soul gems. The wraiths’ cryo effects created an ice field in between them, on top of which held shard canons.
Though they were equipped to take down a fortification, Eviake was explicitly instructed to not do so as his initial action. Instead, Hakkeam told the lieutenant to offer their enemies a chance to surrender, as they can be useful as prisoners and their homes might hold supplies to prolong the Kamals’ campaign.
“Prisoner,” Eviake called forward a short Nordic man, a local hunter before the invasion. “What manner of place is that?”
“That is Narzulbur,” the small man trembled as words blurted from his mouth. “The Orcs live inside.”
“Orcs? Are they armed?” to Eviake’s question, the man only nodded in fear. “They will want to read this letter, unless they hope for the complete annihilation of their pathetic village.”
Like his superior’s challenge to Windhelm, Eviake wrote a similar message to Narzulbur. The Orcs had full day to make a decision between three outcomes. They could ignore the message and be destroyed, answer Eviake’s challenge to a one on one duel or surrender without bloodshed.
“Off you go prisoner, give these Orcs their final warning.”
Windhelm, Skyrim
11th of Sun’s Height
Hakkeam
It was not one, but three individuals. In hindsight, the group made sense. This was not a task for a single person, but rather, something for a group of accomplices. There were two human females and one Argonian male. One of the human, someone called Vendicci, was the author to a page of notes, which three copies were made. To Hakkeam, the Tamrielic letters were nothing but a mix of rubbish, however, there were important informations contained within.
“To Carcello Vedicci in Camlorn,” the Kamal translator read off the page. “Foreign forces have taken Windhelm, and we are held in its slums. I have already sent messages to the Emperor and High King of Skyrim, and I am also sending this to the Company’s headquarters along with another copy to the Tamrielic Gazette. The invaders numbered in the thousands and are extremely powerful, they are nothing we have seen. Please be careful. Your cousin, Adelaisa.”
Hakkeam’s hands trembled with rage, how could they let not one but two letters pass their watch? If it were not for the Tsaesci mage, they would have let through three more. His fury translated into the magicka of frost, encasing the page in ice and shattering it with a clutch of his fist.
“And her accomplices?” Hakkeam demanded, voice full of anger.
“Another human female, Viola Giordano is her name, a busybody eavesdropping on our troops .” the translator answered. “And an Argonian, the lizard creature, I believe his name was Scout Marsh. He was caught swimming up the White River, seems his kinds are natural swimmers.”
“Round these three up,” Hakkeam pointed to the dungeon. “I want a public execution tomorrow, mid day and all the locals there to witness it. In the meantime, double every guard details, make sure there are at least two attornachs at each entrance.”
Refugee’s Rest, border between Morrowind and Skyrim
12th of Sun’s Height
Watch Foreman Tliskev
The first light of dawn revealed a long line of bone armored soldiers extended into the deepest mountain pass his eyes can see. The Dunmers’ armors did not look as protective as the Kamal’s, though their smaller size would prohibit these elves from wearing massive adamantium plates.
“Hail,” Tliskev waved to the leading soldier. “Welcome to Skyrim, it probably looks different then before. Commander Hakkeam have barracks setup inside and around Windhelm, if your men make haste, they might just catch our public execution.”
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