Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Priapus, Marethyu
The Celestial Farmer
Chapter 09: Logistics
– Jorgen –
Right now, Ciri and Aela, along with their shield sisters, are waging war on the necromancers of Fort Kastav. I'm sure it's a very dramatic affair with danger and glory abound. A tale worthy of being told by the bards for years to come. I'm not with them.
I'm building a toilet.
And yet, if this goes as well as I think it should, my deed will likely be the one more glorified by the people, because few outside of Winterhold are inconvenienced by the necromancers of Fort Kastav, but everybody shits.
It started from an off-hand comment from Sudi about how she'd been bathing in the hot spring because it was easier than heating up the water in the main house. That got me thinking, why don't I just make a source of hot water for the farmhouse and the guest house? It wasn't exactly a hard task.
I just needed to build a container in my growing underground facility to hold it all, add a way to draw in or produce water, and a way to keep it hot. I already had the room, and the method since I just needed to modify the runestones we use to keep the house warm. Water is something we have plenty of since the fishery is obviously on the coast, and I'd already connected it to the minecart tunnels for easier movement between them all. The dwemer technology was the answer to how to pump it from the ocean to the tanks, and then just like that, the main house had a source of hot water at all times. Some pipe work later, and we have hot water available in the kitchen and the bathrooms, plus a source outside the house.
It made it easier to clean Barioth as well, even if I had to lure in the big fucking baby first. I don't care how much he doesn't like it. He was starting to stink of troll from all his hunting. In the end, I had to make a new building, which is just a large empty room that can make hot water rain from the ceiling. I lured Barioth in and locked the door before turning it on. I used the stranger products of the farm to throw together an alchemical cleaning agent for his fur and hide, and between me and Sudi, we managed to handle the baby and clean him. It took three large Popo steaks to get him to stop pouting, but his coat looks so much nicer now.
Then Sudi had me make a smaller version of the spray for the bathroom, and some alchemical cosmetic goods for her hair. But reworking the bathroom got me thinking, why stop at just the bathtub? So, here I am, designing a new toilet. I haven't picked the most glamorous life, but I can't say I regret it.
A lot of Nords, especially us Nord men, think that just because it's the way our ancestors did it, it's the way we should do it. In some ways, I don't disagree. Traditions exist for a reason, and ignoring our past is a foolish mistake.
But I firmly believe that even our honoured ancestors who tamed this frozen land would have given their left nut for a hot bath after a hard day's work. If all goes well, I'll never have to clean a chamberpot again and for that, I can feel my ancestors smiling down on me.
100cp granted. 100cp total.
Feat Achieved: Clear Fort Kastav (100cp), 100cp granted. 200cp total.
Oh? I guess Ciri and the others have had good fortune in their quest. A bit odd that I got the credit for it.
You hired them. It counts.
Huh. Interesting.
Shrugging to myself, I get back to work. Sounds like I'll be busy with the rebuilding of Kastav soon anyway, so I should finish up this side project.
– Aela the Huntress –
In truth, clearing the fort hadn't been nearly as difficult as she'd made it out to be. She was a damn fine archer, and mages were just as susceptible to an arrow to the throat as anyone else. Sure, some of them could throw up wards to try and protect themselves, but only if they saw her coming and even then, she could just wait for them to drain their mana and shoot them when it fell.
Ria and Njada had done fine work turning the skeletons to bonemeal with their maces, and Ciri was a menace on the battlefield, dismembering the undead and necromancers alike.
She knew she'd demanded far more than this job would have required, but the truth was? The Companions had fallen on hard times of late. In times past, they had been heroes, but now she knew they were little more than glorified mercenaries. Now, it wasn't unusual for them to be sent to intimidate people over personal grudges or unpaid bar tabs.
Old Man Kodlak thought they were cursed for their connection to Hircine. Maybe he was right, she didn't know. She didn't see her lycanthropy as a curse, but she was one of the only ones. As old age became more and more of a threat to Kodlak, he grew more concerned about what would follow. But honour didn't fill bellies, and his insistence that they stay out of the war had cut down the 'honourable' work they could do. Sure, there were always bandits and monsters to slay, but war was costly, and few had the money to pay the Companions with the war on.
Even Eorlund, one of Skyrim's most legendary blacksmiths, was stuck making trinkets for his wife to sell at her stall despite disliking wasting his talents on such things. When he wasn't warding off requests from the Stormcloaks to forge for them, that was. He was in a difficult position. The Companions were neutral, but Clan Gray-Mane supported the Stormcloaks. He might not consider himself a true Companion himself, but he didn't mind using it as an excuse to ward off the Stormcloaks' increasingly blunt requests.
Shaking her head, she continued along the path to Chillbloom. They'd reported their success to the Jarl, but they all knew who their true client was. She didn't know what Jorgen's interest in the Fort was, but he'd been the one to suggest the job to begin with, and he was the one footing the bill.
"It's done," Aela said as she approached Jorgen, drawing his attention from the Popo he was grooming.
"Aye. Good work," Jorgen agreed. "Sudi, take over the grooming."
"Got it!" Sudi agreed, taking the brush from him as she took his place, the giant mammoth-like creature letting out a satisfied grumbling noise as Jorgen nodded for her to follow him. He was a man of few words, but she could appreciate that as he led them to the Chocobo stables.
"These two are tough birds with plenty of stamina," Jorgen explained, gesturing to where he'd separated two large Chocobos from the rest. They were slightly bigger than Ciri's, one with yellow feathers and another with black. "As I said, they're both male, and I'll want you to bring them back in about four months for breeding. I'll send a letter by courier closer to the date."
"I'll bring them back myself," Aela promised, stroking the black one's feathers as it let out a kweh of enjoyment. "Ciri said you could teach us how to ride them?"
"Yeah, I can arrange that. Shouldn't take long if you aren't stupid. Ain't that different to horseback riding," Jorgen agreed with a nod. "Got your bags as well. I'll be honest, Ciri's is nicer but I had more time to make it. Works all the same, just a bit less fancy."
"If it works, who cares what it looks like?" Aela asked, watching him retrieve the bags from the saddlebag of one of the Chocobos.
"Put a lesser enchantment on the saddlebags. Ain't bottomless, but it'll fit a lot. Got a little carried away making the saddles," Jorgen admitted with a shrug. "Don't worry, ain't gonna charge you extra. Call it a bonus for finishing up quickly. I want the fort finished up before winter truly hits."
"You really think you can rebuild the fort by winter? It's in a bad state," Aela warned, but Jorgen just hummed.
"Won't be a problem," Jorgen reassured her with complete confidence.
Well, it wasn't her problem. She'd done her part. Whatever came after wasn't any of her business.
"We're planning to stay in Winterhold for a while longer. Can we use the guesthouse?" Aela asked, getting a nod from him.
"Aye. Oh, I redid the bathroom while you were gone. Ask Sudi for help if you can't work it out," Jorgen said offhandly. She blinked, wondering what he could possibly have done in the short time they were gone.
With his piece said, he gave her a nod as he showed her the golem that taught people how to ride a Chocobo, wandering off. She spotted him speaking with Danica in the distance, who seemed to be hanging on his every word.
She watched him, her eyes lingering on his impressive muscles as he worked the farm. Despite her teasing Ciri, she had no intention of poaching another woman's man, but if Ciri truly didn't mind?
Muscular and competent were two of her favourite traits in a man, and while she had no interest in settling down, she could use a good tumble. Bedding one of the male companions came with too much potential drama for her to get her itch scratched, and the selection in Whiterun wasn't impressive.
Spotting Ciri on her own chocobo, she waved her shield sister over. She knew some of the Companions took offence to Ciri's rapid rise and talents, but as far as Aela was concerned, Ciri had proven that she was one of them with her performance today.
"What's up, Aela?" Ciri asked, hopping off her bird. Ingrid zipped out of 'her' holster as the enchanted blade flew over to Jorgen, but Ciri just laughed quietly. She hadn't been sure about a weapon having a mind of its own, but watching Ingrid simply fly around the necromancer's wards and cut off their heads had been most amusing.
"I'm going to fuck Jorgen," Aela said bluntly, surprising Ciri before she laughed. "Unless you say otherwise."
"Have fun. I like him a lot, but we're not exactly a married couple. I'll be shocked if Sudi doesn't jump him the moment we leave. Assuming she waits that long," Ciri explained with a chuckle. "Don't hold back on my account. I got my itch scratched."
Aela gave Ciri a sly grin, grabbing her friend for details before she had Jorgen for herself.
– Jorgen –
Logistics is a bitch.
The Fort is a considerable distance from my farm, which means all the supplies I need for the rebuilding are also nowhere near the fort. Sure, the Popos and golems are great for transporting supplies, but this is going to take so many trips that there has to be a better way.
"This is Dwemer work, not magic?" Korir asks as he watches my latest creation move. [Primarch Mentality] gave me the idea, as we watch the large bronze machine arrive at the (current) final destination. I believe it is called a train.
Right now, the track that runs along the side of the road only goes to Winterhold, where I've purchased a piece of land to build a warehouse. Winterhold is in need of a lot of repairs, and I can both buy land cheaply and pay for it with my services. The warehouse is also the first stopping point for the train, where I can unload its goods or resupply it with more.
"It is. No magic involved here, just steam and clockwork," I explain. "Consider it like their weird automatons, only it just moves things instead of shooting people with crossbows. It's a mechanical beast of burden, not a weapon."
"The Dwemer were a strange people," Korir agrees with a nod. "But their secrets belong to the Nords now. They'd be rolling in their graves, if they actually had graves to roll in."
"They'd have to have left bodies for that," I shrug. "I'm going to continue the track down to Fort Kastav, so I can move my golems and materials down there much faster. The fort sounds like it's in one hell of a mess, but I'll have it fixed up soon enough."
"I've sent a letter out to both Jarl Elsif and Jarl Ulfric, informing them of our intentions to reclaim and rebuild the fort," Korir explains with a small, satisfied smirk. I notice he doesn't refer to either as High King or Queen, but his bitterness is just as pronounced when dealing with the rest of Skyrim that's left Winterhold to rot for all these years. "I imagine Ulfric will show up first. He's closer."
"Solitude probably won't believe we can fix the fort. Windhelm is closer, and will have at least heard of the roads by now," I point out, getting a satisfied nod from him.
"Then Solitude will seem all the more foolish once you succeed," Korir laughs. "I'm making you a Thane of Winterhold. Don't argue, I know you don't care for it and would prefer to keep farming, but you've done too much for me to leave it like this. Either I make you a Thane or the people start to wonder if you should be Jarl."
"I don't have time to be Jarl," I sigh, getting a snort from him. "Winter's a terrible time for my crops, even with the runestones. I'll be busy just keeping the farm alive. It's going to be a cold one this year, I can feel it in my bones."
"Aye. The wife has basically camped next to the runestone keeping the Longhouse warm since you installed it. Never thought I'd hear Thaena say a single good word about magic," Korir snorts. "Had to stop the boy from doing the same. He's a Nord man. He can't be shying away from the cold."
"My Pa did the same. Never let me hide by the fire. Gotta toughen up your skin or you'll end up like some whining Imperial who can barely handle a summer night, let alone a proper winter," I agree with a deep nod. "Farming is no place for the thin-skinned."
We share a moment of quiet amusement. The complaining of the other races will forever be a source of amusement for us Nords. Yes, Skyrim is cold, and if you came here without knowing that, you're damn right we're going to laugh at you.
"Speaking of thin-skinned, I got a letter from the Khajiit caravans. Their leader wanted to know if they'd be allowed to set up outside of the town. Guess they didn't want to make the trip just to get kicked out," Korir says, rubbing his chin. "I've allowed them, but we both know they're coming north for you."
"Aye. I've got an excess of stock to trade, and they ain't locals so they don't get the local prices," I agree with a nod. I give the people of Winterhold a discount on all purchases, but that's just for them, not any outsiders.
Despite his slight frown at the mention of the Khajiit and his comment about increasing the patrolling guards to prevent pickpocketing and skooma dealing, I know he's pleased at the first sign of more trade coming to the north.
"I'll leave you to it. The wife wants me to hire you to set up hot water in the longhouse, but I've told her she can wait until the fort is done. We've survived this long without it," Korir snorts, shaking his head.
"Aye, we can talk about that when I'm done with Kastav. Should be able to have it done for winter. Might be worth setting some up in the inn as well," I say, rubbing my chin before I shrug. "Later, Korir."
"If you're still near the city at sunset, come over for dinner. Assur has been bugging me about your pet monsters, and the wife wants to thank you for the runestone," Korir orders, getting a nod from me as we go our separate ways.
My golems are laying the track down, drawing some curious observers as they work in unison. I even spot some College mages, but I don't have time to deal with their curiosity as I grab my tools and join the golems in laying down the train track to Kastav.
– Later –
Arriving back at the farm, I'm pleased that I got [Iron Fist] because I can be damn fast when I want to be. The fort is in a bad state, as Aela warned me, but I've set the golems on the main sources of trouble and they work all day and night, so we'll make some good progress. Having a large workforce of golems that never stop working until the job is done makes things go by far faster than usual, and [Primarch Mentality] has helped me make them increasingly efficient by planning out their work better.
Still, it's a cold late-autumn night, and I've been working my ass off, so the first stop has to be the hot spring. I've worked hard, so I deserve the relaxation. It's late, and we've worked out a schedule for the spring so the girls can use it without worrying about me showing up and catching an eyeful. Ciri wouldn't mind, and maybe Sudi at this point, but our guests and Danica are another matter.
Luckily, I rise earlier and sleep later than most, so when I want to use it, it's always free.
As I enter, I pause for a moment. Almost always free, as it turns out.
If Aela is even remotely surprised to see me, she doesn't show it as she lounges at the edge of the spring, utterly nude with a sly smirk on her face. She makes no effort to cover up, nor does she hide her appreciation of my own nude form.
"Enjoying the spring?" I ask, moving closer and stepping into it myself. Clearly the right move as her smirk grows somewhat, her legs spreading as she leans back, her breasts just above the water.
"I am. I'm surprised Ciri could bring herself to leave Chillbloom with all the comforts here," Aela admits, clearly ogling me as I do the same to her. She's in incredible shape, a small bush of red hair above a very tight looking slit. She spreads her legs further as she sees me watching, making no effort to hide her own appreciation.
"The spring wasn't here when she left, and she knows she's always welcome back," I shrug. "Beyond that, she's an adventurer at heart. Settling down would kill her inside."
"True. She was barely in Whiterun a day before she burst in, demanding we take her in. Beat Vilkas so bad he had to be taken to the priestesses. I warned him she was more dangerous than she looked, but he didn't listen until he was spitting out a tooth," Aela laughs. "Then, she wanted a job within the hour. She's a headstrong one, her blood demands excitement."
"Sounds like Ciri, alright," I agree, setting in with a satisfied sigh.
"Long day?" Aela asks, moving across the spring until she's right next to me.
"Aye. You're right, the fort is in a right state. Short-sighted morons letting it fall to ruin," I grumble.
"A story all too common. For every fort that's still serving its purpose, there's three that have fallen into disrepair or into the hands of bandits and other criminals," Aela snorts. "Then they have to pay us to go and clear them out when things get out of hand enough for the Hold to open their coin purse."
"Bah, politics," I grunt, getting a laugh from her. "No sane Nord gets into it, nothing good comes from it."
"True enough. It's a waste to spend such a nice evening talking about such foul things," Aela agrees, grabbing my chin and turning me to face her as she kisses me roughly. "I want you."
With those three words, she's said enough as I grab her and pull her into my lap. I'm already hard from the sight she's been giving me, and I'm not stupid. No Companion would survive if they were so unaware, she knew I was coming long before I reached the hot spring. Plus, she doesn't look like she's been in for long. I'm a predictable man. My schedule is fairly set in stone. I was always going to come to the spring once my work was done. This wasn't a coincidence; it was an ambush.
She's a woman of few words, and I'm not exactly eloquent, but I think we've both got our point across as she deepens her kiss, my hands going to her firm ass and squeezing it. Without a word, she positions herself and sinks down onto my cock with a quiet moan of pleasure into our kiss.
Ciri, despite being equally forward, is a bit of a pillow princess when we really get going. She doesn't tend to stay on top for long, but I get the feeling Aela is a different matter as she bites my lip hard, her nails digging into my back as she rides me with an almost feral grin on her lips.
Moving my hands to her large breasts, I squeeze them gently before teasing her nipples, getting a pleasured laugh from her.
"Are you a man or not? Don't just sit there. Fuck me already," Aela growls before she kisses me again, and I simply nod to myself.
Well, she asked for it.
– Aela the Huntress –
Her words had the intended effect instantly as Jorgen rose, lifting her with him as she clung to him. He was far stronger than any regular farmboy, lifting her as if she was utterly weightless as he gripped her hips and began to bounce her on his cock while he carried her out of the water, both their bodies glistening with the droplets.
Nude as he was, she could see his muscles in perfect detail and he even had the likes of Farkas beaten. It was almost a waste that all this might was being used for working fields, because this was the body of a warrior. He tossed her down onto a towel, which barely softened the hard wooden floor as he moved to mount her. She didn't plan to make it easy for him, kicking at him as he paused before he grinned darkly, seeing the challenge for what it was.
Pouncing at him, she tried to knock him down but he caught her and in an instant, spun her around as she felt herself go dizzy from the movement. Forced back down onto her hands and knees, he pinned her down with his weight as his knee forced her legs to part. Without any warning, he was back inside her as she let out a moan, one hand gripping her hair as he forced her face down into the towel
He grabbed her arms, moving them behind her back as she lost her balance, face down and ass up as he pinned her arms behind her back with one large, strong hand. Ciri was right, Jorgen was a beast in the bedroom when he was properly motivated. Each thrust filled her up as her pussy was split in two by his size, her breasts pushed into the floor as he leaned down and bit her ear.
She let out a growl, intermingled with her moans, pushing her ass back to meet his thrusts as she gave him a dangerous look over her shoulder.
"You asked for this," Jorgen replied simply, kissing her neck before he gripped her hips and began to truly fuck her, moving faster and faster as he seemed to glow with a golden light. His movements picked up speed, until he was bottoming out inside her multiple times a second, making her eyes go wide and a strangled moan leaving her as he pounded her pussy.
For just a moment, he pulled out and flipped her onto her back, both hands gripping her ankles as he spread her legs wide and thrust right back into her, kissing her roughly. She tried to bite him, a feral smile on her face as he backhanded her lightly, enough to make her ears ring, but she could tell he was holding back a lot. He kissed her again, and she quietly submitted to it as he hammered into her cunt like he owned it.
Their little scramble had taught her enough to know that she couldn't beat him. Not this close, and not without her bow. His body was a masterpiece, and he knew how to use it. She'd never lie back and take a dick from a man who couldn't overpower her, but Jorgen had taught her her place.
She'd wanted to see just how strong he really was, behind his humble farmboy act, and she'd found out as the sound of his thighs clapping against her ass rang out through the chilly night. She'd challenged him, and he was taking his prize.
She came first, her body shuddering as her pussy clenched down on the fat cock that was rearranging her insides. Her scream drowning out the sounds of their fucking for just a moment as she clutched the towel. It had been displaced enough that her cheek was pushed into the cold wooden floor as he continued to rail her from behind. Her ass was red from his powerful spanks, her throat sore from her moans and screams.
She had no desire to become a mother. Much like Ciri, she was made for a life of adventure, and yet Jorgen showed no signs of pulling out. No intention of releasing his seed anywhere but into her waiting womb. Her pussy quivered at the idea of taking his powerful load inside her, and her mouth disobeyed her as she pleaded for him to keep going.
His grunts could barely be heard over her cries, but she knew he was approaching completion, and her time to tell him to pull out was rapidly running out. Her mouth continued to defy her, nothing but moans and squeals leaving her as her climax refused to end. With a triumphant grunt, he sheathed himself inside her and stopped his relentless punishment, sighing in satisfaction as her eyes widened at the sudden heat below, his strong Nord seed flooding her cunt.
Jorgen remained inside her, making sure every single spurt of his cum found its way into her pussy, before he finally pulled back. Grabbing her hair, he moved her up onto her knees as she panted for breath. Without a word, he pressed his cock against her lips, and she parted them willingly. The taste of his salty semen mixed with her own arousal touched her tongue, but she obediently sucked, tamed, for now at least.
Suckling on his cock, she stared up at him with a mixture of awe and lust. Why was such a beast working as a farm boy? He should have come south the moment he had some hair on his chin to become a Companion. She'd have happily welcomed him as a shield brother, then made him a man.
Ah, but perhaps it was for the best. She didn't think the egos of the rest of the men could take it if Jorgen came back with them, bested them all, then fucked her and Ciri into a coma on his first night. They'd already been humbled by Ciri, their egos wouldn't survive a second far too talented newcomer.
As he pulled her back, he lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder like a conquering warrior claiming his prize, carrying her back to the main house as if she weighed less than a feather. She struggled, just a little, getting a spank on the ass and a tighter grip as her response, as he carried her into his bedroom, tossed her down onto the bed and pounced on her a second time.
In an instant, he was inside her once more, and she could only moan lewdly as she cursed Ciri for not adequately warning her. This was a quest that would require more than one shield sister to handle.
For the briefest moment, she imagined Kodlak's face if she, Ciri, Njada and Ria all came back pregnant, making her laugh between squeals, but that thought was rapidly put out of her mind by the thorough fucking she was receiving.
– Next Morning –
Aela was an early riser. Even by the standards of the Companions, who often were up and about by the time the sun rose, she was almost always up first.
She rolled out of bed well past noon today, getting laughed at by Ciri and Ria for her 'well-fucked' expression and her limp.
Jorgen was, of course, nowhere to be seen when she awoke, having left her in a deep sleep and gotten to work. That she was the one left exhausted and he seemed so unaffected after last night stung her pride, but his stamina was not to be denied.
Sudi was nice enough to have prepared a large breakfast, since 'she'd clearly need it'. Sudi was an odd one. She clearly lusted for Jorgen, and yet showed no real offence to other women taking him first. Instead, she seemed almost amused by the entire thing.
When she finally spotted Jorgen again, it was quite a bit later as he was returning from the fort on his strange contraption to get more supplies. He gave her a long look, a small satisfied smile on his face as he took her in.
"Finally awake?" Jorgen asked, getting a nod back.
"I am. I suppose a day of missed training won't hurt," Aela agreed, watching him put down the building materials and gesture for her to follow him into his workshop. She did so, feeling herself grow wet at the idea of another round, but Jorgen just chuckled.
"Made you something," Jorgen explained, getting a raised eyebrow from her.
"I didn't fuck you to try and get any freebies," Aela said, her tone slightly clipped. She was not a whore.
"I know. Didn't make it for you just because we fucked. Call it insurance that you'll stay alive to come back for another round," Jorgen snorted. "Armour is made from Barioth parts, lighter than Ciri's but less protective as well."
She looked over the outfit he pulled out before she shrugged and slipped out of her own very light armour. She wore little, so it didn't slow her down, being the fastest of the Companions. Jorgen hummed in appreciation at the sight of her nude form, but just watched as she put on the armour.
It was slightly thicker than what she was used to, but gave her just as much manoeuvrability thanks to the revealing design, her arms and legs left free. She could tell the thickness came from the brown furs that had been put over the base armour.
"It's for camouflage. Barioth's white is great in the snow, but less useful everywhere else," Jorgen explained as she examined it. "The bow I made from Nerscylla parts."
Handing her the large white bow, she examined it for a moment with a critical eye. Unlike hers, this one folded away for easier carry, and Jorgen had to show her how to lock it so it wouldn't fold without her wanting it to. It was an odd weapon, but some practice shots showed that it had one hell of a draw strength. The arrows he gave her were equally deadly.
"When did you even have the chance to work on this?" Aela asked, impressed despite herself.
"Was too worked up after you passed out, and Ciri was already asleep, so I did some late-night crafting," Jorgen admitted, carelessly stabbing her right in the ego. "You like them?"
"Aye, I like them," Aela admitted. "This doesn't make me yours. It'll take more than some gifts and a night of pleasure to tame this huntress."
"Mhmm. Come visit when you have the chance," Jorgen said simply, and she just nodded, firmly ignoring the light blush on her cheeks. "Don't want to tame you. You'd make a boring housewife."
Aela let out a laugh at that. She supposed he wasn't wrong. She was a huntress, and she didn't know what she'd be if she stopped hunting. Depressed, presumably.
"Any good hunting around here? Ciri wants to stay a little longer," Aela said, making him stroke his cheek. She wanted to put her new weapon to the test.
"I think Barioth killed everything nearby. Some trolls and sabrecats over towards Dawnstar, though," Jorgen explained, getting a nod from her.
That'd do.
Pausing, she glanced out of the workshop door to make sure nobody was too close, before closing and locking it. Jorgen gave her a curious grin as she undid her new armour and let it drop.
Later, Ciri was insufferable as she noticed how much more pronounced Aela's limp had become.
– Ulfric Stormcloak –
In truth, he'd been all too ready to dismiss the letter from Korir at first. He'd seen it as the Jarl of Winterhold once again making a play at relevance, or begging for aid while being too proud to admit it outright.
Despite Winterhold's close proximity to Windhelm, it barely crossed his mind, especially with the war on. Korir had given little aid, despite supporting the Stormcloaks, but Ulfric did not blame him for his lack of material support or manpower. Winterhold had little to give, and Ulfric did not expect them to give up what little they had right before a harsh winter.
"Remember, Korir may support us, but he has made no vows of loyalty," Ulfric reminded his men as he led them up the impressive new roads with a frown. It had been his court magician who had pointed out that something was happening in Winterhold, urging Ulfric to at least check out Korir's claims.
The change was as clear as day the moment they crossed over the river, the roads being replaced with finely paved, enchanted bricks and lit up by evenly spread lamps. Solitude paled in comparison, and that raised alarm bells even before they reached the fort.
Korir had requested help clearing it out before, but he had refused. Yes, it was bad that necromancers were holding a fort just north of his capital, but Fort Kastav had little military significance. It stood between Winterhold and Windhelm, but both were sworn to the Stormcloaks so why would he need a fort there? Winterhold had no army to worry about, so his manpower was best spent elsewhere.
That was his thought until Korir's letter mentioned sending a copy to Solitude as well. If the fort was truly repaired, letting the Imperial Legion man it would put a knife to his back. Galmar had called it treason, but as he said… Korir had made no oaths, and Ulfric had asked for none as he'd seen Winterhold as a non-entity in the war. They only held onto their title as a Hold due to tradition, but Winterhold had never held any importance after the collapse. He had assumed they'd remain irrelevant for the civil war, the fool he'd been.
Arriving at the fort, he felt himself pause as he took it in. The walls were pristine, newly constructed from the look of it, and stone men moved around, ignoring them entirely. He stopped one of his men from drawing steel, giving them a look as he simply walked in, head held high.
The man commanding the golems paused, spotting him. Tall with a thick beard and long blonde hair, the man looked over him and the gathered men for a moment, then he turned back to what he was doing, making Ulfric blink at the utter lack of greeting.
"Jarl Ulfric," Korir called out, leaving the main building with a large, almost smug, smile on his face. "Winterhold is honoured by your presence."
"Jarl Korir. I'll confess, I doubted you could rebuild a fort in such a small amount of time," Ulfric admitted.
"You'd be right. I'm not close to done yet," the man grumbled. "The towers need rebuilding, the prison is decaying and at risk of flooding. Needs a good gate too."
"Ulfric, this is Jorgen. He's the owner of Chillbloom farm, and the man I hired to rebuild the fort and roads," Korir introduced. "Jorgen, this is Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
"And the true High King of Skyrim," Galmar butted in, seeming offended that Korir left that part out. Jorgen just gave them a nod and turned back to what seemed like architectural plans laid out in front of him.
"Don't mind him, the man is very focused on his work," Korir said. "Come in, please. Jorgen has finished much of the main building."
The derisive snort from Jorgen said otherwise, but as they entered, Ulfric couldn't help but be impressed with the very recent rebuilding efforts. He felt himself frown as he was forced to admit that the fort was ready to be manned once more, even in its current state. Korir had gotten them. He had to man the place, or Tullius would.
His eyes wandered back to where Jorgen was working, a thoughtful look on his face. Who was this man and how was he able to do all this?
Winterhold had seemed irrelevant, until now. He'd expected nothing because they'd had nothing to give.
Until now.