A Nord's Account of the Second Akaviri Invasion and the Ebonheart Pact

Klemmeg Kamal-Killer, Sergeant of the Ebonheart Pact, 2E 582

I am off to fight the Daggers soon, always said I would write my story on the formation of the Pact, a cause I’ll now gladly die for.

I was in the Rift at the time, the invading army of the Akavir King became a rumor after their first attempt to invade the shores of Eastmarch in early Sun’s Height. There was also talk of their sightings in the eastern lands. After a month’s pass, the Akavirs successfully fought their way onto the shores. Truth be told, Mabjaarn could have done a better job preparing for the invaders, given the time she had. Maybe my kinsmen could learn more on defending their homeland, instead of invading other’s.

Within the week, Queen Mabjaarn and the Princess Nurnhilde were killed in defense of Windhelm. The Skald-Prince arrived at the battle with reinforcements, to find Windhelm’s gates open. He charged to the aid of his twin brother, the Strong-Prince Fildgor, who had returned from the eastern coast. Sadly, the two were unable to stop the sacking of Windhelm, barely escaping from the battle with their lives.

The surviving Skald-Prince reappeared after his suspected death with the Ash-King, and reassembled scattered troops in defense of the Rift, joining forces with the Strong-Prince. I rallied in service to the royal brothers, joining the war later than I would have wanted, axe sharpened. The Akavirs opted to bypass Riften, to our surprise, and continue to the alien lands of the Dark Elves.

Bloodthirsty and determined, we pursued the trespassers into the lands of the Dark Elves, descending from the mountains, south into the ashen lands, following in the tracks of their warpath eastwards.

We arrived at the rear of the Akavir army in eastern Stonefalls, near the city of Ebonheart. Our army fell upon them in aid of the retreating Dark Elves.

On the slopes of Ash Mountain, under winds of salt, and smoke, and blood. My comrades and I followed our Captain, spearheading the charge into the fray, crashing against a line of snake-men like waves on rocks, breaching through their rearguard.

Next along the path, a group of Akavirs were desperate to escape the formation of our armies around theirs. A wave of icy demons charged us, and we held strong, meeting them in furious melee. Near the end of it, I plunged my axe into the chest of their leader, and from his throes, I was flung upon the fiery bank of the mountain’s flow, where I earned my scars.

I spent the rest of the battle recovering from the burns, watching from the mountain.

My comrades flooded down the mountain to rejoin the army, blocking off the mountain for escape, and cornering the Akavirs against the elves and the sea, where they held a final defense, holding out for time.

I could see the Akavir’s ships coming over the northern horizon, hurrying to rescue their trapped army. They almost made it.

When the Shellbacks arrived, there was initially some confusion in the ranks and fighting between them and the forces of Almalexia, but it was stopped. It was these lizar Argonians from the south that broke the Akavir’s line of defense, and allowed us to drive them into the swelling waters of the sea, to drown and bleed on jagged reef.

Nearby, in Ebonheart, the leaders of the three parties convened, and our great alliance was conceived.

We returned to Windhelm, hailing victory.

Fildgor asserted his claim to rule, backed by his Stormfists, but Jorunn defied it, also claiming the throne. With the crisis over, I licked my wounds most days, where others celebrated, but that day I knew not to miss. Jorunn challenged Fildgor to a duel, to prevent civil war, and they met outside the palace in Windhelm.

Uncaring, at the recent site of their family’s death, the brothers did not hesitate to draw blood. The brothers fought long and hard, growing weary and disheartened. In a feat of strength, Jorunn smacked his blade against his brother’s, bringing it to sunder, then knocking Fildgor the ground.

Fildgor surrendered, and was put into exile, his Stormfists returning to the west.

Jorunn the Skald-King took his throne, and went on to lead the Great Moot of the Pact, making a good mediator between the Elves and Argonians.