The Second Great War - An Elder Scrolls Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Windhelm

Ulfric Stormcloak sat atop his frozen throne within the Palace of Kings: Galmar Stone-Fist was to his right and General Tullius his left.

Each spoke of their ever so unlikely alliance - one bound strong enough to break even Lord Solinar and his golden mob, speaking also about how Tullius received a courier sent by High General Cadere Kaiser - which had him urgently recalled from Skyrim after the Legion's failed crossing into Dominion territory, and how by the time Tullius had crossed into Cyrodiil it was too far gone.

And lo, Tullius withdrew back into Skyrim with his legion to seek a deal - an alliance of desperation with his sworn enemy - Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion which had its fair share of blood spilt on all sides; more than enough.

This deal would last as long as the Second Great War did. Yet the truth was, if these men were honest, they would admit they had absolutely no clue of what they were going to do with one another should they be victorious. Should they?

This conversation stopped when a figure appeared before them - lowering his hood and revealing himself to be an Altmer by the name of Kalamon. Things only got more bizarre when Kalamon admitted to being a Thalmor agent, throwing down his cloak, he revealed his gold and black uniform.

Galmar rushed to his axe and Tullius was much the same. Ulfric calmed the two just before they could swipe Kalamon off the face of Nirn. The elf admitted he was no longer of the Dominion's ilk and had abandoned them, and that he had essential information that must be shared, as little as those who heard believed it. But his sheer desperation was almost convincing in itself.

Ulfric readied his voice if he had to shout Kalamon apart as he had High King Torygg. But his mouth would only fall agape the more Kalamon spoke. His proclamations were so wild that one could not help but believe him.

Kalamon explained that he was the one who had brought about the Dominion's attack on Cyrodiil, alone starting the entirety of the Second Great War; doing this by supplying the Thalmor with false information which said that spies from Cyrodiil had gotten hold of top secret documents and that now the Empire planned to attack them based on what was written, forcing the Dominion's hand into action.

The truth was that Kalamon stole the documents to make it seem convincing that spies had done so. He then took to burning the documents to cinder; for even being caught in the vicinity of such things would have ensured his swift execution.

But the words written on those documents were forever seared into Kalamon's mind. They spoke of the Thalmor's true intention: To obtain Godhood and "perfect" the very state of existence itself; all in their own image.

This would be done by gaining control of the Towers of Tamriel at any cost and "activating" them via Daedric artefacts obtained through terrible means. The towers included the Crystal Tower within Alinor, Cyrodiil's White-Gold Tower, Morrowind's Red Mountain, and even Skyrim's Throat of the World. All held a power so tremendous.

Kalamon explained further that even almost all of the Thalmor themselves were ignorant of this goal; and were sent on the exact same false conquest of guts and glory across Tamriel as any other lowly Dominion grunt.

The goal of Godhood belonged only to those within the Thalmor's "Innermost Circle"; until they offered Kalamon a place amongst their ranks. In finding this truth, Kalamon fled in secret and has been hunted ever since.

Never in their wildest nightmares did the Dominion plan to move on the Empire as soon as it did. Their goal was first to turn everything inside out through political snakery, to turn Province against Province, city against city, house against house, and brother against sister, even if this should take decades - centuries, only then would the Dominion use its forces as a glorified clean-up crew to sweep aside all who opposed it, soon to stroll straight into the Towers that they so desperately sought.

Kalamon said he could not go directly to Cyrodiil with this information before the outbreak of war as he would surely be imprisoned for who he was - or worse.

Yet he assumed the Empire was strong enough to repel the Dominion and crush them along with the Thalmor. Hence, their dream of Godhood would be dashed altogether. He was wrong. The Empire of Men was far weaker than Kalamon had hoped. And now, with things so far out of hand, he is forced to stand where he does now.

Kalamon pleaded, "The fall of Vvardenfell and its Red Mountain will only delay the Circle's goal! I beg of thee, repel the Dominion's coming attempt to take the Adamantine Tower within High Rock - this Tower lays as a master key of sorts for all the others. If it is taken by our enemy ... we are lost - all Tamriel."

Kalamon vanished. The hall was in stunned silence. None knew what to do until Rikke revealed herself to have been listening from a different room. She looked to Tullius and he responded with a firm yet reluctant nod after a long moment in thought.

Rikke began to prepare herself and her legionnaires for a long march west, to High Rock, to the Adamantine Tower, leaving a handful of her best to act as Tullius' guard. Tullius would not go as his worn bones would not permit the walk - and certainly not the battle to come.

"Ulfric," Tullius said. "We must-"

"Decide," Ulfric said. "I must decide."

"On what?" Tullius asked.

Ulfric spoke,
"To our south, again, the Dominion attacks the Pale Pass. To the east, the An-Xileel look ready to prepare another march, after the fall of Vvardenfell spooked them into inaction, a march that will certainly bring them by us. And, west, Redguards, like the Dunmer who poured across our border when the Argonians attacked them, have flooded into Skyrim; we know not if our enemies hide amongst them. So, on what do I decide, you ask, Tullius? I must decide if I am prepared to sacrifice Skyrim to save a Province that is not mine - all on the words of an Altmer claiming to be a Thalmor agent. And, most importantly, Tullius, ... if I should send more men to die; and in a land that is not theirs. Stormcloak widows will weep for their husband's return... They will not."