I can see an incident where an army of clones attempts to siege whiterun happening sometime in the future.
Lydia fought hard with the Dovakiin as the army of clones of horse thieves got closer and closer to the cloud district. As the hours went by, Lydia found that the Dovakiin had fled to a healer or even his house as she fought the clones. She produced a daedric sword from her sheath and took her ebony dagger out of hiding. Fiercly, she battled but they just kept on coming. She noticed something in the hands of one of the clones.
Green, a staff, and scamps. It had to be the Staff of Everscamp. They had found a way to use this once forgotten treasure to make an army. An army of the same person. Two hundred were surrounding her until she cut the staff in half. Every clone was dying. Groans and blood being coughed out could be heard all the way from Dragonsreach, but the Jarl assumed it was just another person being killed by a dragon who happened to be possessed by millions of ghosts.
Lydia walked through the bodies and waded through them until she could find the one she was sworn to protect. There he was. The Dovakiin. In his house. He'd fled just to make a potion. Restraining her anger, she asked is he was okay or needed any healing. He said he would be bound to his bed for a few days, so he would need to copies of many infamous books like the series caled the Real Baranziah and tons of ale as he healed. She told him she'd be back with some ale and must notify the Jarl
That day. That very day. That was the day the Guardian of Whiterun, Lydia, had saved everyone from the clones and the staff of Everscamp.