Taken from the annuls of Leaves-Only-Ashes, the immortal vampire, conjuror, necromancer-assassin, loyal Stormcloak, and Dovahkiin:
The Battle for Whiterun, also a night to remember...
The sun was setting over Whiterun, and the Stormcloaks were ready to take the city. The Imperials stationed there had fortified the walled city, a strong fortress atop a hill that gave them a sure advantage, but the Stormcloaks had something the Imperials did not--the Dovahkiin. To Leaves-Only-Ashes the approaching night was a sign that the battle would go well for him. As unlikely as it was for an Argonian to catch any disease, on his last adventure he had managed to contract the rare disease Saguinare Vampiris. Whatever his reasons were, he had let the disease run its course, and it just so happened that the day he answered the Stormcloaks call to arms was the day the unholy gift took hold in him. Unknown even to his allies, tonight was also the night the Dovahkiin awakened as a vampire.
Galmar Stone-Fist had gathered his troops, Leaves-Only-Ashes among them, and was busy giving some speech to inspire confidence, but the Dovahkiin turned vampire was too distracted by the massive siege engines both sides were using to rain devastation on each other. They were glorious instruments of death, but also terrifying. What had Leaves-Only-Ashes so transfixed was that despite the Imperials otherwise horrible accuracy one blast was consistently landing not twenty feet away from where the Stormcloaks had rallied. Was it only in his mind that Leaves-Only-Ashes perceived that life-ending ball of fire was coming closer and closer to its mark? Though his vampirism granted him an unnaturally long lifespan that life could still be cut short, and so the fear of death still held sway over our hero. Recognizing the potency of that fear he turned away from his comrades and quickly loaded and fired several volleys from the nearest catapult. He cared not where they landed and didn't take the time to aim, a crazed desire to inflict on his enemies the same fear he had experienced just moments ago overtaking Leaves-Only-Ashes. Yes, fear was a weapon he could wield and turn against his enemies.
He had finished with his tantrum as Galmar finished addressing his men. It was time to join the battle. They charged. The Dovahkiin rushing toward the barricade outside Whiterun shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Stormcloaks, spectral blade in one hand and finishing casting a protective ward over himself with the other. He no longer knew fear. It was the Imperials turn to feel frightened. A bloodlust Leaves-Only-Ashes was unaware resided in him had swelled, bursting forth at this, the last moment before he joined the fray. Before, he would have conjured another bound sword into existence and fought with weapon in each hand, but tonight he thirst for battle in a way he had never before. His vampire powers suited him more now, and he charged the nearest Imperial, cutting him down within an inch of his life, and finishing him off by draining the last of his life force and drawing it into himself. Tonight he would revel in murder as he had never before for tonight Leaves-Only-Ashes would not only kill, but feast on his enemies as well.
Archers on the scaffolding above drew his attention away from the melee as the Imperial soldier lay dead at his feet. Many Stormcloaks would die by their arrows if something were not done. He quickly raised his kill as a zombie minion to take his place with the charge before the Argonian, acting as a lone agent, spotted a ramp up on to the scaffolding. The archers were distracted by the ease with which they dispatched their enemies, too distracted in fact to notice the Argonian bounding up the ramp and charging them from behind. Leaves-Only-Ashes was a blooded assassin of the Dark Brotherhood and yet didn't bother sneaking up on the two since their attention was elsewhere. He hew through the first in no time before rounding on the second who fired his last arrow at the Dovahkiin before drawing his sword. The steel of an Imperial blade struck against the ethereal blade of the Dovahkiin, but the man wielding it was no match for the vampire who shouted him to pieces as only Ulfric himself could--until now that is.
The Argonian necromancer-assassin-vampire dragonborn, Leaves-Only-Ashes now had fresh material to work with, however the barricade was broken and raising the dead soldier now would only be a waste of time. Instead Leaves-Only-Ashes continued on along the scaffolding, rather liking his elevated footpath straight to the enemy's most guarded points. On the ground below his fellow Stormcloaks were having a hard time breaking the Imperial defense, but the Dovahkiin did not notice as he was far too busy cutting down every man, be he Imperial soldier or city guard, who stood between him and the drawbridge controls. Though he was on his own separated from his brothers in arms and above the clashing armies as they waged war below, the Dovahkiin was the spearhead of the assault. He did not see soldiers, only kills, and he did not worry about the fighting, only his next objective. When the enemy engaged him, he slew them, when he was wounded he drained them of their life to replenish his own, and when their forces threatened to overwhelm, he shouted "Fus ro dah!!" and smashed through them with a wall of force that sent every last man flying. In their last moments, the enemy knew the legends were true, that he was Dovahkiin for he wielded the Thuum, but the legends had never spoke of this; the terror rushing at them with spectral blade, draining life from the living, and raising their fallen allies to fight for him.
In a matter of minutes, Leaves-Only-Ashes had lowered the drawbridge and the Stormcloaks fighting below had forced the Imperials to retreat inside the walls of the city. Many had been slain, but the Dovahkiin was not among them. Galmor was still alive as well and stood before his troops at the gate, addressing them once more before they stormed the city. Leaves-Only-Ashes contained his bloodlust for a moment but in that brief pause he was eager for more and thought only of the death he had yet to bring his foes. In they went to shed more blood, their own as well as that of their enemies. For Leaves-Only-Ashes, it was a chance to reap more carnage.
Inside the city one thing was strange to the Dovahkiin, however, and gave him pause. The street here in the winds district was all too familiar to him. He was Thane of Whiterun. There was his house, Breezehome. The blacksmith, Adrianne Avenicci was his neighbor, and though she claimed she wasn't the greatest blacksmith in Whiterun Leaves-Only-Ashes always came to her, but only out of convenience, of course. Still, he was doing her a great favor offloading all of the crap he found (or looted off his fallen enemies' after he had reduced them to nothing more than piles of ashes) and in exchange for her every last septim. For a moment he stopped and thought about this. He wondered if the Stormcloaks knew which house was his and that they were not allowed to ransack or otherwise vandalise his property. Then he wondered if Lydia, his housecarl who he had left behind at home was still inside waiting for his return and his next order. He loathed her. He had left her there on purpose not too long ago and fully intended to never see her again. He did make the occasaional stop there in between questing and avoiding her while at home was impossible, but it didn't mean he had to look at her, only endure hearing her voice as he went about stowing away his latest spoils or hurridly experimenting at his alchmey lab so that he could be out the door and far far away from her once again. Killing her would be so easy. A misplaced arrow while she was crawling away injured from a fight or simply slitting her throat along an empty road...or perhaps something more creative like shouting her off a cliff...but death would be too kind. Leaves-Only-Ashes had to do something truly cruel to her, but that would have to wait until a later date.
He gave up on thinking and decided things would probably work themselves out if the Stormcloaks found his home with Lydia still inside and dared try to take anything or molest her. She'd probably kill at least one of them before the rest learned what was off-limits. She was stronger than most men after all. Again, things would probably work themselves out, so he wasn't at all concerned if a few of his comrades decided to forfeit their lives. As for Lydia, he despised her. Even if it were possible for her to come to harm, he didn't care in the least.
There were a few guards left in the city, the Stormcloaks had caught them in their retreat, and though they were men fearing for their lives they were Nords. They fought bravely, and they died honorably. Leaves-Only-Ashes delighted in killing them. The charge was slowed down by a barricade blocking off the market from the wind district, but Leaves-Only-Ashes smashed it down as he led the Stormcloaks through the eldergleam courtyard. Another barrier stood in their way at the top of the stairs to Dragonsreach and Galmar had the pleasure of breaking down this one with his mighty axe. Their victory was now at hand. They need only confront the Jarl and his honorguard before the battle was won. The enemy number was few, and they would not stand against the murderous psychopath that was the Dovahkiin.
Beyond the doors of the palace guards immediately charged down the stairs of the great hall at the invading Stormcloaks. Fools...there were only three of them. "Fus ro dah!!" Two were killed instantly by the dragonborn's shout. The last fell by a single stroke from his spectral blade.
"Enough!" Jarl Balgruuf the Greater exclaimed as Galmar, the Dovahkiin, and the Stormcloaks behind them climbed the steps to his great hall. Soon it would no longer be his. The time for words was long since over. The Dovahkiin ignored the Jarl's words as he spoke them, and instead decided he would test his mettle against that of Irileth. He had always viewed her as a warrior without equal and wanted to see if he could best her. He knew their skills would be well-matched for Leaves-Only-Ashes had seen her fight before. It was for this reason that in this moment he saw her as a rival, though he had never looked on her in that way before now. Many things were different this night.
Distracted by fantasies of battling his would-be rival, the Dovahkiin did not notice that Balgruuf the Greater had chosen his traitorous Thane as his opponent, and so was taken by surprise by the Jarl rushing towards him.
Survival instinct kicked in and the reptile fled his predator A great warrior like Irileth always served someone stronger. It was the natural order of things, and because of this the Dovahkiin was once again afraid, afraid of the enemy he could not best, afraid of what he feared was a beast larger than himself. Leaves-Only-Ashes had fought dragons that did not have the same intensity of fury burning in their eyes. As the Jarl charged again he knew what those men he had slain this night felt as they saw the bloodlust in the Dovahkiin's eyes before he cut them down. Running around one of the long tables in the hall and juking a guard who joined his Jarl in his hunt, the Dovahkiin was not ready to die. The carnage he had wrought tonight was not going to end here, and he would do much worse so long as he lived...and now that he was a vampire that would be a very very long time indeed.
The time he spent fleeing was well-spent--as was the long hours enduring Lydia's voice while practicing his craft--for during that time Leaves-Only-Ashes had applied a special blend of poison to his spectral blade. He didn't understand exactly how one could poison an ethereal blade, but if it was solid enough to cut through a man's flesh then it only made sense that one could apply poison to it as well, he supposed. The many hours of tedious experimenting didn't regularly pay off. In fact, this poison was the Dovahkiin's very first breakthrough. Most of the time he couldn't be bothered to notice what he had brewed and simply pawned his concoctions off to the local alchemist without giving any of them a second thought. This, however, had stood out from the countless lesser potions and weak poisons he had made, and he had immediately tucked it away on his person on reserve for the most dangerous of foes. What he had coated his blade with was in fact a poison to slow the Jarl's movements. To some that may seem a petty thing and even Leaves-Only-Ashes valued only the deadliest of poisons, but to the Jarl, in his heavy plate steel, this poison was just that.
Rounding suddenly, the Dovahkiin struck the Jarl first. One slash was all that was needed for the poison to take hold. Now Leaves-Only-Ashes focused on the guard, easily keeping out of reach of Balgruuf the Greater. In an instant the guard was dispatched and now it was the Jarl's turn. Leaves-Only-Ashes' scaly lips drew thin in a reptilian grin. He knew this fight was won.
When Balgruuf the Greater fell to his knees he was Jarl no longer. He begged "Please, no more...." And the assassin turned soldier withdrew. This was war, and war had its rules. The Stormcloaks had come here for Balgruuf's surrender, not his death and so Leaves-Only-Ashes would spare his life, but only this once.