Authors Note: I am working on the story again, I found the direction that the story needs to go and now I've got to find the exciting journey that our heroes and our heroin will take to get to the end of the tale I'm trying to spin. Anyway, I've got to get to sleep, so keep posted and add the story to your favorites so you'll get the email for the next chapter.

The leadership of the Empire stationed in Solitude had gathered in the palace court to discuss terms and conditions with the new faction calling itself the Guardians. The man in charge of the Guardians, who only referred to himself as Neil, stood in front of the throne dressed in his strange armor.

"We'll handle your problem with the Forsworn in the western mountains." Neil offered.

"That is quite the offer," A high elf dressed in purple black robes scoffed, "You'll just 'handle the problem'. You speak of this issue as though you'll just stroll in and dust them out of the crevices." Crossing his arms in front of his chest adopting a confrontational posture. "They've been a threat for decades and our best have been sent into those gods forsaken mountains." He looked down his nose at the man named Neil. "They are not to be taken lightly."

"Y'all think I don't know how tough them sons of bitches are?" Neil growled through barred teeth. "Yeah, me an' the boys," He gestured behind himself with a thumb to the three guardians dressed in the same armor with heads hidden by helmets, "Will go into them mountains and burn it all to the ground if we have to."

"Supposing you succeed, which is a mighty supposition, the amount of provisions you've requested would feed at least one hundred men through the winter." The elf was looking down his nose sneering at the five Guardians. "The benefit of your success to the Empire and Queen would be satisfactory. Good luck, the court is adjourned." The elf stormed into the nearest hallway as the Queen rose to address the four guardians she'd granted an audience to.

Goose crackled over the comm, "Well...that went well."

"I wanna shoot the bastard, but Hoss says that wouldn't be very diplomatic of me." Trinidad quipped.

Red deadpanned, "Diplomacy is not for us to ponder, we follow orders. Beside the point, you couldn't hit a target at fifty yards with that revolver. You'd blow your wad early and blast your little piggies all over the floor."

"The elfs were throwing off my aim, bastards." Trinidad muttered.

"Comm discipline!" Neil shouted wheeling on the three, he was of impressive height standing at eye level with the elves. His shoulders heaved with a frustrated anger that forced the three men to stand straighter. "I want each of you running suicides to the mountain." His salt and pepper hair was cut short, a proper high and tight. He growled, "Now." Without any further prompting the three guardian recruits took off at a full sprint all the way out of the city.

The entire display between Neil and his newest guardians after the meeting was as if the world had muted all noise that they made. It was very clear they were communicating by their body language, but the method of how was foggy at best. The Thalmor would need to investigate and learn the answer to the puzzle. It was one more odd things about the ones calling themselves Guardians. Their level of technology was a mystery and it was becoming clear that magic could not explain all of it. The ambassador began writing his letter to the Aldmeri Dominion's Intelligence Ministry.

There was dampness clinging to her shirt from her slither through the marsh. Sweat traced small rivulets down her face and into her eyes but still she did not blink. Her hair was tied up out of her face in a long braid that reached her lower back.

"Eye's," She told herself where to hurt him for everything he'd taken from her and them. "Gonna turn that frown upside down." She grinned madly at the old saying.

She was looking at a meeting between the Aldmeri Dominion's head honcho, their battlefield commander. It was truly incredible the lengths and measures his security detail took. Body doubles and impressive numbers of guards. Seemingly random patrol routes that only made sense to elves, switchbacks and open terrain. The hardest target she'd turned her sights on by far. She had him now though.

The Commander of the Aldmeri Dominion.

Neil walked through the halls of the temple he'd taken over after the Dovahkiin left for Solsteim. The ghostly soft percussion of his heavy boots made of leather and folded steel clacked off the stone floor as he made his way to the sparring arena. He looked out from under his brow in an unmistakable expression. Guardians and recruits alike moved aside, saluting and giving curt acknowledgements.

The guardian commander, Neil walked up to and on to the long dining table, "ATTENTION," His voice boomed. Everyone of the guardians and staff alike dropped whatever they were doing and came to ridged attention. It was a strange version of the Norse salute, the hand was held flat and brought to the corner of the right eye as if to shield the sun. "We've got a mission to secure provisions for the winter." He cast his gaze about to the assembled men and women under his command. "Target and eliminate all of the Forsworn. Your standing orders are as follows: search and destroy any and all Forsworn with no discrimination, and I mean every one of those fuckers. There will be no prisoners taken, no structure left standing, and no fuckin' survivors. Am I clear?" Neil's voice boomed like thunder that would not relent until all was shaken.

"Yes sir." The entire room bellowed in unison.

"Dismissed." Neil growled. "We deploy in thirty minutes so gather your rucks and pack your weapons of choice."

The guardians descended from the temple down every side of the mountain like a kicked anthill. One hundred lethal warriors vanished into the brush and spread west banding together into their fire-teams.

Leaning heavily on the tool used to churn the earth of his field, Mitch wiped the sweat from his forehead with a sleeve. Looking at the progress he'd made brought a smile to his face.

"Looks great sweaty," A woman's voice said, "I mean sweety."

"It does," Mitch muttered in a low voice. "Doesn't it."

The voice was back. The voice of his late wife that he'd lost to a bandit attack out on the frontier. A voice that followed him always. Sweety. That's who he'd been to her for thirty years, her sweety. He wiped his forehead again and returned to churning the earth.

"Yes, I'll admit I'm a fool for you," He thought of the years they'd shared together. "Because you're mine," The love that had been taken from him, "I walk the line." The culmination of their love and the child she'd barred for them. "For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide," The baby that'd also been taken from him. "Because you're mine-"

"You walked the line." The voice said with that twinkle hidden in between the words. The twinkle that would be in her eyes and in the love of her smile.

"I walked the line." He agreed.

Red flashed a hand signal and the team advanced on the camp. Goose fanned out to the right and Trinidad fanned out to the left. Molin was left to watch their backs. When they were in position Red flashed three signals to Goose who nodded.

Goose always thought of himself as a good person with a persistent sense of humor that popped up whether it was appropriate or not. It reared its head as he snuck up on a leather and fur teepee. I hope they bought homeowners insurance. He chuckled darkly as he poured lanturn oil around the base of the tent. Trinidad was doing the same around the ritual tent.

With the oil in place Goose moved onto his second task. Take out the sentries on the east side of camp. He crept undercover of the treeline hidden in shadow as he stalked up behind the first target. The Forsworn was in his ridiculous armor that made him look like the carcass of some ancient fucked up tribal shaman. Which Goose supposed the sentry was.

As Goose coaxed the knife out from the base of the former sentries skull he found his next target. And so it continued for about ten minutes.

Red's signal was the tents on the other side of the last large encampment bursting into flame. He watched as the living area filled with wooden lean tos and leather tented pole frames swiftly was consumed by fire.

Men shouted and women screamed as their camp hidden in the chill of the mountain range burned. All of the forts and outposts the Forsworn had captured had been struck simultaneously. Each of them reduced down to nothing more than smoldering cinder that blackened the skies of the Reach. Camps that had been spotted by scouting parties were marked on maps and the stray Forsworn that ventured out of camp to hunt or water a tree was killed without quarter. The Hagravens or 'Hags' were riddled with arrows before the fighting started by long bowmen. The fleeing survivors were easy to spot in the middle of the night due to their armor catching fire.

The Guardians took no prisoners and by sunrise the entire camp was a blackened stain on the mountain side. There were no survivors. Per standing order their mission had been a success.

"Your majesty!" Neil bellowed as the doors swung inward. "Your majesty. We bring news from the Reach."

"Needn't have bothered guardian," said a stocky looking Norseman, "We could read the smoke signals you sent from the Blue Palace." He chuckled at his own joke.

"You didn't actually burn the Reach to the ground did you?" The ambassador asked. It was a reasonable question. The guardians had rode for the capitol before first light and by the looks of it lunch was about to be served.

There they stood in the palace that'd housed kings and queens, offered accommodations for traveling ambassadors, missionaries, and noblemen. The guardians stood in their strange armor absolutely covered head to toe in soot and ash.

"Forts and outposts along the Reach that were occupied by the Forsworn have significant fire damage, but the whole of the Reach and her forests stand tall and proud once more, your majesty." Neil declared with iron in his voice and fire in his eyes.

"We'll need to send scouts-"

The ambassador was cut off by the Queen, "All the people of the Reach thank you Commander. This will be marked for note in the history books," She waved a hand at her scribe who began fiercely scribbling in a book.

"Elisif-"

"You will address me by Queen Elisif of Skyrim ambassador, these men have done what we have not, four days after accepting the task." She jabbed a finger in the elves direction. "With an unprecedented display of tactical efficiency. We will send our scouts, but first we will thank them for making the Reach much safer to travel." She stood and turned her attention to Neil who had taken his strange hat off and held it in his left hand while his right hand sat on the pommel of his strange silver weapon holstered in his belt.

"My Queen, the Forsworn have buried themselves in caves, and old buildings all across the mountains of the Reach. The extent of their influence reaches into Markarth. The idea that all the Forsworn have been dealt with in such a swift manner is highly suspicious."

"Our part of the deal is handled, we'll be in touch." Neil spun on his heel and strode to the door. His men came to attention as he walked by then filled in behind him. The guardians left with protest from the Queen calling after them. Everyone gathered was thankful the carpet was the only casualty of the meeting.