User blog comment:Spritydove/Deeper Thought into the Civil War/@comment-5135631-20120710224431

On the 3rd night of Talosmas, a festivity commonly celebrated in the height of summer in Skyrim and the Eastern holds particularly since the outset of the Stormcloak rebellion, TDITN, known to the locals as "The Douche" or "Nathan" as his birth name, walked along a riften balcony, wading through cheery townsfolk and comely girls. For this was the festivity in Skyrim, and the lean Nord was enjoying himself. He recently had a drinking contest with Balimund the Blacksmith, but the old Bear was too, well, old to beat the young Stormcloak warrior, and called time suprisingly early.The Nords, Argonians and Dunmer were getting along and he even recognized a couple friends from his service in the Bruma guard, which he was in before the Empire put him to the block and almost killed him.

However, something wasn't right. The whole scene felt like a perfect distraction for something. Nervous, and his blood running faster, but also colder than The White River itself, The Douche decided to take a look around outside the city.

Eventually, after some wary walking, he found himself at Shor's Stone. He looked into some fields nearby, and he saw him.

The rouged scales of the creature's head coupled with the Emerald green of his chest and torso which joined with the red at the neck and thighs, banded in Scaled armour. Hanging from his hip was an Ebony war axe, like a sliver of midnight.

TDITN's own attire was a Steel Plate cuirass with gloves and some casual fur-lined boots with a Skyforge Steel Sword in the scabbard from his days in The Companions, so he do stuck out in the crowd.

It didn't take long for the Argonian to see him. He didn't run, but waited for The Douche to come.

"You old Lizard" laughed the douche, but the humour and reporte of his tone masked the complex subtext beneath.

"Landstrider". "I trust you're not going to try and melt my face like last time."

The Argonian was right, the last time the two met, The Douche had to fend his counterpart off with an iron shield, waiting for him to take a foot wrong. When they both held their nerve in combat, The douche took the high ground by countering the coldblood's sword strikes with a pair of Blacksmith's bellows, steaming hot from the fire. This injured them both, but left the Argonian with an ever more Crimson neck, while The Douche retreated back into the forests of Falkreath, with a medley of Cyrodillic officers at his heels.

"Listen Sarge," TDITN began. "you understand you have taken the red, and now I can't let you continue your operations here. I don't care whether your selling ale, swords, flowers, it has to stop."

"Smart as a whip" Sarge's mysterious, cloudy voice sounded out. "But I sell nothing, nothing at all, except fear."

TDITN gave him a deductive stare through his blue eyes, browned, braided hair shining in the moonlight.

Then TDITN clocked it. Sarge had always been a skilled Necromancer, but never used his talent on the battlefield.

"You're using ghosts or some other such foul tools to scare the people of Shor's Stone into declaring their banners for the Empire. But it won't work. The Thane of this town, Thane Caron, still holds fealty to The Law-Givers."

Sarge's eyes widened. He was impressed, rare for the shady death-cheater. "He holds fealty to the Law-Givers, yes, but, does he hold fealty to all the Law-Givers?"

Suddenly it hit the Douche. Saerlund. Laila's milk-drinker son, with his fine clothes and foul manners, weird brand of facial hair on a boring face, had always disliked Ulfric.

"Jarl Laila has disowned Saerlund, he can go nowhere" the Douche asserted.

"With Lord Caron's horses, he can go anywhere." Sarge countered.

It all was clear to The Douche now. Saerlund would be smuggled out of Riften by Thane Caron, use Sarge's deadmen to gain Shor's Stone, and then link up with Imperial spies near Whiterun.

"I've worked it out Sarge, you will use Saerlund and the deadmen to begin a counterattack to Riften" The Douche said, drawing his sword.

"Hahahhahahhaha!" Sarge laughed

"There are no deadmen TDITN, but after tonight, there will only be dead men."

The two clashed metal once again.