Gidian had been perplexed when he'd been ordered to observe the rebellion's position in Skyrim, and attempt to weaken the Stormcloak's hold on Skyrim. It was as if they expected him to turn the tide and take back Skyrim by himself. Sometimes he wondered if they put too much faith in the Rangers, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. One of their own had come up missing in Skyrim, probably killed. They weren't infallible, and yet they'd sent in a grizzled old hermit, hoping for a miracle to happen. It made him chuckle to himself, atop his large black horse. He would've preferred to ride his own horse, which he'd spent countless time training, but regretfully he'd grown too old to ride on such a mission. The years had been kinder to him than his old horse, it seemed. And yet, he now found another reason to chuckle. Why had they chosen a large black horse for him to ride to Skyrim? Not because it would be inconspicuous, they just thought it'd help his image. Make him more imposing. At a grand total of five foot, six inches tall, they managed to poke fun at his height whenever they could. They, back at Ranger command. If it had been anyone else, he'd probably throttle them. But, such were the joys of retirement, he got to spend more time at home with his family, and less in the field. He was, of course, still a member of the Rangers. Even in retirement, they were considered invaluable assets. And Gidian pitched and did what he could at every opportunity, and he certainly didn't want an apprentice or an amateur(or his son) to take this assignment and get themselves killed. They'd already lost one. And as long as he could still be of some use, a retired ranger never seemed to rest. After all, they were still Rangers, and not many people knew they continued working after retirement. It was more of a misinformation tactic than anything, really, although the contributions some could make were limited. Gidian was lucky enough to still be fit for fieldwork.
Well, so far it had been easy. He'd traveled across Cyrodiil on his way to Skyrim relatively uneventfully, except for when some foolhardy bandit had tried to take his horse. Apparently, he didn't know much about Rangers, or he wouldn't have shown himself. but then again, not many people knew much about the Rangers, and the fact that he wasn't recognized meant that they were good at their job. This massive black steed, standing well over 6 foot on all fours, hadn't helped his image enough to scare away everyone. Not even the status as a Ranger had dissuaded the fool. That was, until he'd gotten an arrow in his leg, as a warning shot. Then Gidian had had to run him down to get his arrow back. Such inconsiderate people these days, trying to get away with his arrows. Luckily, it hadn't been broken. Thinking back on it, he amended that it could've been worse, but the Rangers were good at their jobs. It had merely been a single bandit, and not a whole band. These days, they seemed to be growing desperate. but desperation did nothing for them with Rangers around.
And then came the difficult part. the fools at the border at Falkreath hold refused to let him in, he'd had to grab the commander of the border watch by the scruff of his shirt, and scare the life out of him to finally get through, but even then they wouldn't let him take the horse. But that was no trouble, he wouldn't need it, and he didn't want the trouble of having to keep such a beast fed. So, he took what he could carry (which comprised his essentials for camping and surviving) and left it behind. It looked big enough to eat a pasture and then some. And it wasn't exactly inconspicuous. But finally, here he was. Falkreath hold. It wasn't as impressive as he remembered the last time he visited, but the last time he'd come by they hadn't been involved in battle. Now, the people were weary, the buildings and walls worn, and the graveyard was just about the only thing with a fresh, new look to it. Only because there were more dead to bury. It was late in the afternoon, and he'd decided he could inspect the Hold's capacities and the rebellion's position tomorrow. He'd been riding for quite a few days, and he felt he'd earned a good night's sleep in a real bed and a fine meal. He walked into the inn, ordered some food, and discreetly listened to the rumours and talk of the people, trying to gauge their moods and opinions, and so far it seemed pretty bleak. Three holds could not hold back the might of Ulfric's army, which was comprised of everyone else. People had doubts. Eventually, he retired to bed.
The next morning, Gidian amended he'd get some real work done. He discreetly inspected the defenses of Falkreath, gauged the amount of men they could field, the condition of their wounded, how many casualties they'd sustained, and when he'd learned enough, he began to question the soldiers about the condition of the opposing forces. Not many seemed to know anything, and so he decided to seek out his own answers. Later that night, when the moons were up and the stars out, giving only enough light to see by, he scaled the walls and hopped over, disappearing into the forest as if he was part of the landscape itself, sliding his feet under branches and twigs, stepping lightly, and making so little noise, he felt no human could possibly detect him. And soon, he found a small stormcloak encampment, but before he could gather much information, a patrol left, moving with a purpose as if they were doing something important. Not one to miss an opportunity, and naturally curious, Gidian trailed them. Eventaully, they came upon a lone woman, demanding a letter and acting in very threatening manner.
Gidian thought to himself, How odd, she doesn't look like a courier, and what message could she be carrying worth threatening her for? And then things began to escalate quickly...
"I don't know sir, I never read the letters, I just deliver them." The woman declared boldly. But, the soldiers weren't falling for it, and called her bluff. Now, they attacked her, and had her on the ground, about to kill her, when Gidian decide to act.
Gidian was hiding nearly in plain sight, in front of a large tree, relying on his cloak and a lack of movement to keep them from seeing him. He carefully removed his bow from his right shoulder, which it was slung over, and readied an arrow. He drew back the arrow, readying the powerful longbow to release it's deadly projectile. Years of practice and natural instinct kicked in, and he saw his shot hitting it's target a thousand times in his mind before releasing it... and the arrow, steel, as he didn't think he'd require one of his heavier arrows to penetrate the soldiers armour, hit the man almost square in the chest, propelling him backwards and knocking him off his feet. And now the other soldiers began searching desperately where the arrow had come from, and Gidian walked out of the darkness, a sphectre in the moonlight, and it almost seemed as if he'd walked straight out of the tree he was in front of. He had another arrow ready to fire, aiming it at the closest of the soldiers, and demanded, "Drop your weapons!"
They looked at him in a state of shock, not quite willing to comply. So, he decided to be a little over the top. "Drop them now! or I'll put you in that tree," he gestured to the one he'd appeared to walk out of, "for the rest of your days!" And Gidian was rewarded with a look of absolute terror, as most of them began to drop their weapons, before one of them spoke boldly, "FOOLS! HE'S JUST A MAN! KILL HIM!"
