Rikke Piece of Work

Legate Rikke walks at the side of the large Imperial force which was heading towards the southern path that lead to Winterhold. Honestly, she was pretty sure she was going to die today... The place they were going to assault was probably the most infamous place in the whole of Tamriel right now.

They were up against the College of Winterhold, the strange blue-skinned squid-faced Eredar, and whatever the Winterhold guard could muster up... Most worryingly however is the presence of Michael Tahlin and his 'Eye of the World' which was already causing the hairs on the necks of the Imperial mages to stand up in anxious anticipation, despite the still rather large distance between her forces and Winterhold.

Even from miles away she could see the top of the Eye of the World, along with the huge blue lights streaming into the sky and covering the area in a permanent slight blue tinge. It'd be beautiful were she not just about to attack it...

The worst part about the whole thing however was the chaos between her leaders... She'd received so many conflicted letters and orders that it wasn't even funny. Some from Jarl Elisif to attack immediately and some saying to stall, then some from Tullius that were for and against the assault. She'd only agreed to move now due to both Jarl Elisif and Tullius sending identical orders, leaving no room for interpretation.

She grimaces as she glances behind her, spotting the black and gold robes of the Thalmor mages that'd been thrust upon her. While her troops were disciplined enough to not make it obvious, you could tell many weren't satisfied with the Thalmor inclusion...

Rikke only hoped that fighting wouldn't break out before they reached Winterhold.

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Stands on the plateau at the entrance of his tower, observing the makeshift wooden walls that'd been constructed on the southern path to obstruct the invading force. Next to him was his friends, Tiffania, Megumin, Saya and Illococoo., he'd also had Maria stay inside the tower for safety. Saeko would be here but, she was busy chasing down Silver Hand fortresses with the Companions, not something he wanted to get in the way of considering the Thalmor were almost certainly involved.

The Eredar, College mages, and Winterhold guard were already in position, and the Imperial force was a mile or so away from the city. It was larger than expected, with more mages than usual, probably there to deal with those from the College.

"Michael!" Umnii, the Eredar mage says as she makes her way up the steps, "Jarl Korir wants you, the Imperials wish to negotiate!"

...

Michael glances at the girls, "Well, looks like I'm needed. You guys know your jobs, just don't die, I can't resurrect you like I did Tiff. That was a one-off."

"Didn't you resurrect yourself?" Megumin asks, tilting her head to the side.

...

"Twice off." he retorts, despite the number being in the hundreds. "Illu, don't fly unless it's needed... You know what I mean." he seriously says before leaving.

He meets Korir at the walls along with Savos and Irarus, the Imperial negotiation group was already waiting for them a couple hundred meters out, though, he didn't recognise anyone present...

"Understand you three, it is I that will make any agreements. We may be equal players in this, but Winterhold is rightfully mine."

Michael nods, "Yeah, yeah, we get it. Just don't say anything stupid and we'll not have to get involved." he warns, the Jarl letting out a reluctant sigh as they go to greet the opposition.

They stop at a comfortable distance from the female Imperial, Thalmor mage, and another robed figure that Michael couldn't tell the identity of... They lacked any typical indication of faction, which was peculiar given Skyrim and the Empire's love of peacocking about in national colours...

"Jarl Korir." the Imperial woman greets with a curt nod and folded arms.

"Legate Rikke. Have you come to end this madness and surrender?" Korir seriously asks.

The Thalmor sniffs derisively, raising his head and revealing his handsome face under his black hood, "Cease your preposterous posturing and realize the situation at hand, Nord. You are outnumbered, outclassed, and trapped like defanged rats in a barrel. The only chance of your and the rest of your cur surviving this is to drop your weapons and pledge yourselves to your true ruler, Jarl Elisif."

"You mean the Thalmor, right?" Michael hums as he asks, "Like hell a bunch of elf-supremacists would ever fight for 'Nord' interests. It's laughable that anyone would seriously believe the Thalmor held anything but malice for Skyrim." he looks to Legate Rikke, "It's almost as funny as you marching around under the orders of an elf slave, his masters, and a mad woman... If I cracked your head open I bet I'd find empty space with a peanut, and a hand full of elven gold..."

Rikke grits her teeth, well aware of how shitty this situation is for Skyrim and the Empire as a whole, "I know of you Michael Tahlin. You've finally declared yourself for the traitors then? Or will you continue to sit on the fence like the gutless coward you are."

"Are you fucking stupid? You are attacking us right now! By your standards, I could rape you right here and proclaim myself the victim! I don't give a shit if you're 'just following orders'" he gives the adequate mocking air quotation marks, "I promise, if you attack I'll hang you and your men from the top of my tower like strands of fucking hair!"

Irarus folds his arms and straightens his back, "Aye... Er, not what my friend just Michael said but, we Eredar will face you should you invade our home. We've lost too much already, we won't let the squabbling of armchair generals decide our fate!"

The Thalmor grins at this, "Oh yes, don't worry creature, we've got plans for you and your kin. I'll give a promise of my own. By the end of it you'll be left, aha, blue in the face." he jokes, but no one laughs, not even his comrades who just stand there and stare at him in disbelief.

...