Traveling through The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

How wonderful it would be if the real world could have a happy ending like a story! Everything would be frozen in the most perfect moment: unparalleled beauty would never fade, a fit body would never become bloated, a sharp mind would never become dull, and lovers would never turn against each other...

If time were to stand still in the year 174 of the Fourth Age, then Emperor Titus Mead II, who lost his capital, would be an incompetent and tyrannical ruler, while Mednatch, who captured Markarth, would be the greatest king in the history of the Rych. After all, even a legendary hero like the Red Eagle ultimately met a tragic end, defeated and killed.

Unfortunately, time never stands still.

Titus Med II had been planning a counterattack since the retreat, and on the 30th of the month of Rain Hand a year later, the fierce Battle of the Red Ring broke out. His Majesty the Emperor not only recaptured the capital but also captured Grand Duke Naya Rifin, the commander of the ancestral lands.

Meanwhile, King Mednatch in Markarth was in a state of utter distress, caught between pressure from the followers of the Rych and the surrendered Nords.

Though he was king in name only, he was not a tyrannical ruler. The other tribes granted him very limited power: to lead them to victory, distribute the spoils, and arbitrate disputes. His reward was priority access to the largest and finest portions of the captured goods. Now, Markarth had fallen. Here lay boundless wealth, countless gold coins, inexhaustible delicacies, dazzling jewels, and beautiful women…

These must be divided, of course!

Every day, people would surround Mednatch, showing off their scars and boasting about their achievements, then accusing others of stealing rewards they didn't deserve. Initially, he tried to appease them by paying for the rewards himself. But these men were insatiable, competing with each other, and their demands eventually exceeded even the King's own.

Mednatch soon found himself spending more than he earned and desperately needed to raise funds. With the help of Glask, he arrested a group of the most brutal Nord nobles, tortured them, and forced them to pay ransom. But these men were not honest; some were stingy misers, while others were only willing to hand over hard-to-liquid assets.

Left with no other option, His Majesty the King had to execute them all and then arrange for the Rijks to take over the property and women who had lost their owners. In his view, Graske's method was very poor; there were only a few wealthy families, and once they were all confiscated, they would be gone. Moreover, this fellow deliberately protected his relatives and friends, resulting in some property that should have been confiscated still being registered under the original owners' names.

In order to secure a stable income, Mednatch summoned the tribal chiefs to discuss solutions. At this meeting, several clever individuals suggested that they emulate the Nord lords and collect money from the city's residents under the guise of taxes.

Soon, a resolution was passed. All non-Rich citizens aged ten and over must declare their total assets to His Majesty the King's court within ten days to obtain poll tax status, and then pay the poll tax according to the amount corresponding to this status. As the name suggests, those who resist taxation or conceal their assets will lose their heads.

What pleased the King of Fury most was that the two-faced scoundrel Grasker was honored to be elected as a first-class citizen and relinquished control of the Hidalas mine amidst his desperate wails.

This gift was extraordinary. Mednatch only learned after reviewing the archives left by Hofdir that the lord's sudden rise to power was due to the massive amount of silver provided by the Hidalas mine. With this cash cow, the Richians could recruit soldiers and completely drive the Nord invaders from their homeland.

The blissful days lasted for several months. However, His Majesty noticed that the amount of poll tax collected was steadily decreasing. He had already cut off the roads leading out of the mountains before the siege of Markars, so no one should have been able to escape. He ordered a thorough investigation, and the answer was that some unscrupulous people were posing as Ricci people to evade taxes.

The Wrathful King ordered the tribal chiefs to recount the population under their jurisdiction, and sure enough, they discovered many people of questionable lineage who had previously claimed to be Ricci people. After this operation, tax revenue was once again abundant.

However, a thorn remained in Mednatch's side: Lord Hovdir, who had been missing for over a year. His correspondence with the High King mentioned that the territory of Rych was providing two thousand elite warriors and no fewer than fifteen hundred laborers, led by his brother Rayek, to fight in the capital.

Clearly, Hovdir had been deliberately avoiding a decisive battle with the Rych coalition. This cunning fellow wanted to buy time, waiting for his main force to return. His escape when the city fell was still driven by this same idea.

In that case, the coalition forces should also actively prepare for war.

It was only at this point that the King of Fury was surprised to find that very few people still cared about his orders.

Despite his self-proclaimed title of "King of all Rych," only three large tribes and about twenty smaller ones in the northern part of Rych responded to his rebellion. Chieftains in places like the Central Spear of Kas, the Eastern Serpent Cliffs, and the Southern Lost Valley remained indifferent to his uprising. It's highly likely that Lord Hofdir was able to escape his encirclement because these tribes let him pass.

But with the fall of Markarth, the alliance he had built crumbled. In the struggle for spoils, former allies turned on each other. These rivalries rekindled old grudges, eventually escalating into a large-scale armed conflict. The defeated tribes fled the city, retreating to their hideouts in the northern valleys, no longer answering the king's call.

The Ricci people who remained in the city were equally disappointing. They settled into beautifully furnished houses, indulging in fine wines and delicacies, and reveling every night, scoffing at His Majesty's order to assemble. The easily defeated Nords had been utterly conquered, and even their lord was nowhere to be found; what need was there for preparations? Besides, even if war were to break out, the Ricci warriors would be fearless.

The combat troops were corrupt and disloyal, and the logistics personnel weren't much better off. The town of Kasweisten, which had once supplied Mednatch with iron ore and food, was discovered a few months ago to be harboring many charlatans posing as Reich people. These men were heavily taxed, and the mayor, responsible for negligence, was imprisoned. Now the entire town is in chaos, with no one in charge, and the land and mines have long been abandoned.

Most of the commanders in the Ruichi coalition were unfamiliar with urban warfare, and in this regard, Mednatch's only advisor was Grasker. However, since losing the Hidalas mine, Grasker had completely given up, staying home and refusing to show his face. The King of Fury, as a conqueror, couldn't tolerate such behavior. He immediately ordered Grasker's arrest. Unexpectedly, this traitor actually grew bones and committed suicide in prison.

Fortunately, the problem wasn't serious. Mednatch concealed the news of Grasker's death and told his eldest son, Songwa, who had just turned eighteen, that as long as the defense of the city was arranged and Lord Hovdir was captured, his father would be released. The foolish boy obeyed like a submissive, stupid dog.

But Markarth is too large; even defending just the easternmost wall would require two or three hundred soldiers. Relying on this foolish dog, there's no way they could muster that many. The Rich people are too high-ranking; they disregard even the king's words, let alone listen to a mere puppy.

Nearly half of the Nords in the city had been slaughtered, and those who survived were forced into slavery by the Riich. To conscript these people, their masters' consent was required first. Even if they could get past the Riich, Mednatch didn't believe the Nords would willingly fight against their lord.

After much thought, hiring someone was the most reliable option.

Markarth is home to many city orcs and Redguard mercenaries. These guys have no morals; they'll listen to whoever pays the most. Many Rich people like to hire them to manage their Nord slaves. The King of Fury himself prefers the tall and mighty orcs and has even established a guard composed entirely of orcs.

The only drawback of this plan is its cost. However, for Mednatch, who has complete control of the Hidala mine, problems that can be solved with money are not problems at all.

With these odds and ends pieced together, His Majesty the King finally completed the reorganization of the defenses by late winter, eagerly anticipating Lord Hofdir's counterattack. Once the battle began, it would prove that his foresight was not unfounded, and he would surely be able to once again unite the forces of the Rych tribes.

However, the battle did not immediately commence. Hofdir sent a letter inviting Mednatch to a meeting at Old Haldane. His Majesty accepted the request but secretly laid an ambush, killing Mednatch in one fell swoop. However, eliminating the Nord lord who had once ruled Markarth did not enhance Mednatch's prestige; instead, it caused more Rych tribes to abandon him.

Everything was too easy. Such a weak enemy had caused their king to panic and scramble for months. The Ruichi tribe revered the strong and would only follow the strong. Once a leader showed weakness, his rule would immediately crumble.

This has little to do with culture; it's purely because the harsh living environment forced them to fight against nature and wild beasts to carve out a way to survive. The Nords followed this practice in ancient times, and the current system of electing the High King is a remnant of that. However, with the development of agriculture and the establishment of settled life, bloodline-based inheritance gradually became the mainstream.

Mednatch was well aware of his situation, and his solution was to establish a secret service to monitor tribal chiefs who were dissatisfied with him, and to assassinate them if necessary. During this time, Neposu gradually became his most capable henchman.

This man was the leader of a small tribe in the middle reaches of the Kas River, in his early twenties. Despite his youth, he was one of the first to rise up and join the Madnach, and his bravery in battle earned him the nickname "The Tiger of the Rych," thus greatly impressing the Wrathful King. However, he overexerted himself in the early stages, frequently tackling tough challenges, resulting in severe losses of his troops. Even though he was the first to capture Markarth, he failed to reap many benefits.

In Nepos's view, the other tribes had clearly stolen the spoils that were rightfully his. Therefore, he was happy to cooperate with Mednatch, both to teach the unscrupulous people a lesson and to take back what was rightfully his.

Unfortunately, they didn't have enough time. In the early spring of the Fourth Age 176, Mednatch lured and killed Hofdir. Three months later, a Nord army besieged Markarth. Songwa Silverblood, in charge of the defenses, betrayed them, opening the gates to the invaders. In just two years, the Stone City changed hands again.

Before the Reich people could even comprehend what was happening, they were plunged into fierce street fighting. Mednatch's two sons and daughter died in the chaos, and he himself was taken prisoner. The victors loudly proclaimed in the square that, without questioning or trial, the leaders of the rebellion would be executed. However, most were not killed, but instead imprisoned in a newly built prison deep within the Hidalas mine.

"So, Markars City was sold out? I heard that Ulfric used a dragon roar to blast down the city gates?"

Argis didn't bother with her tattered parchment notebook anymore, but simply took a sip of pine needle tea.

“Madnach didn’t know the specifics either, as he wasn’t at the city gate at the time. But he was certain that the person in charge of guarding that position was Songwa Silverblood, and that person had defected to the attacking side.”

The King of Fury met Tonar, the sixteen-year-old second son of the Silverbloods, in prison. Mednatch described him as cunning, treacherous, and arrogant, bearing a striking resemblance to his father, Grasker, in every feature, hairline, and tone of voice. Tonar claimed that he had prevented the lord from executing Mednatch. He wanted to cooperate with the King of the Rych, just as his father had done two years earlier.

Mednatch agreed.

Through Tonar's efforts, a group of Rich people regained their freedom by escaping from prison. They called themselves the Forsaken, meaning they no longer recognized verbal agreements or written treaties with other races, and fought only to reclaim their homeland.

Nepox, who had previously been in charge of the secret mission, publicly announced his surrender and was subsequently employed by the Silverblood family. Ostensibly, he was responsible for recruiting and managing workers for his new master; in reality, he managed the Forsworn remaining in Markarth on behalf of Madnach, carrying out assassinations or other sabotage operations under Tonar's orders.

Having suffered a humiliating and inexplicable defeat, the raging king was filled with resentment. Even with his freedom restricted, he still hoped to find an opportunity to rise again. At his behest, Nepomuk used his position to actively contact his former subordinates, seeking loyal and courageous men willing to pledge allegiance to the king and continue fighting for freedom.

At first, Mednatch's life in prison wasn't difficult. His old cellmates still cared for him, even finding him several attractive female prisoners. Unfortunately, their children all died young. Nepomuk sent people to visit him weekly, providing daily necessities and informing him of recent news.

In less than six months, he became addicted to a beverage called Skoma. According to his favorite concubine, it was a rare sweet wine that could invigorate a person, make the drinker exceptionally sharp, and thus bring indescribable pleasure. Those who experienced this pleasure were all unable to extricate themselves from it, and Mednatch was no exception.

In the cave, day and night were indistinguishable, and the sun and moon were obscured. If he hadn't overheard a private conversation, he would never have imagined that his trusted confidants had already been bought off by the Silverblood Clan. These vile people were using women to numb and corrupt him, counting the number of times he took Skuma, waiting for him to die like a rat in the dark dungeon.

From that moment on, Mednatch decided to have a thrilling cat-and-mouse game with Tonal.

He had to maneuver carefully under the watchful eyes of the fledgling kittens, and carefully select truly reliable helpers. One day, they would muster the courage to defeat the cat!