The Beginning

[nordthuum]

So this is how it ends; this is where it all goes down.

The trip to Cyrodiil had gone well: trading, some sightseeing, good food and drink. Of course, the whole country was too warm for a true Nord's tastes, but you can not have all in life at the same time.

Right now, he would be happy to have a bit more freedom and not the prospect of being executed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The wrong place was the border outpost between the Imperial province and Skyrim. The wrong time was when a group of Stormcloaks were passing by. There was an ambush, nets, sling stones, and then darkness. Now, he woke up on the back of a cart with three other men, being hauled off to...

...well, likely execution.

Comments

[nordthuum]

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman." The man in imperial armor was a Nord too: it was clear in his build, voice, and general demeanor. "What do we do, Commander? He's not on the list." Minus the deferential tone.

"Forget the list," sneered the captain. "he goes to the block." What a charming lady.

"I'm sorry." The man seemed visibly embarrassed. "At least you'll die here, in your homeland."

"A cold spot of comfort, Captain." The Prisoner spoke for the first time, shaking his head and turning to follow the others. "But I guess you can't do anything to change the world, can you?"

There was no reply, and the Prisoner was not waiting for any.

There is a speech from Tulius, the Imperial General, to the leader of the Rebels: Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm. One of the other men in the cart had called him 'the true High King', but that was at least questionable, since Ulfric had killed High King Torygg in a duel but few other Jarls supported his claim to begin with.

[nordthuum]

The executions start with a low-ranking rebel who decided to not sit through the last rites given by an Imperial priestess.

Come to think of it, it was strange: the Imperials preaching to Nords, after outlawing the worship of Talos to pacify the supremacist religious zealot Altmer Elves of the Summerset Isles.

Damn elves. People complained about the Argonians and the Khajiit, but it was the Elves who tried to destroy the Empire.

[nordthuum]

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" Ah, the charmingly bloodthirsty captain.

The Prisoner walked over to the block, keeping a quiet dignity, and was made to kneel and extend his neck for the headsman's blade.

Of course, he could have tried to run or fight, but neither option would change anything. And by going this way, he could look into the eyes of the Nord captain one last time, make sure he had one more thing to haunt his sleep.

There was a strange rumbling in the distance, and the soldiers looked up and around, wondering why it would sound like a storm when the sky was bright and clear. Only the Prisoner, head on the block, saw the dark winged shape coming from behind the mountains, and perching on a nearby tower.

Dragon...

"What is that thing?" called a fearful voice.

A different voice answered. "Akatosh protect us! Dragon!" Then there was a thundering roar, and darkness.

[nordthuum]

The darkness could not have lasted more than a few moments.

"Get up, kinsman! We have to hurry!" One of the other prisoners was helping him up; half carried, half walking, they made their way to a nearby tower.

Helgen was... a ruin, already. Buildings broken or burning, people dead all around, the Imperial soldiers trying to fight back the winged monster flying above and swooping down to cause more death and destruction.

Ro Da!

The Prisoner stopped at the door of the tower, blinking at... something... then was pulled inside.

[nordthuum]

"Still alive, Prisoner? Better follow me if you want to stay that way." The Captain was surveying the damage, while a small group of people hid by the ruins of Helgen's Inn: Captain, Prisoner, an old man, and a boy.

The escape through the tower had not gone well: the dragon smashed a wall and blocked the stairs, forcing the Prisoner to jump out to the roof of the inn. Not a simple feat when his hands were still firmly and tightly bound.

"Gunnar." called the Captain. "Keep the boy safe, I have to find General Tulius and help with the defense. Make your way out of here if you see a chance."

"Divines bless you, Hadvar!"

"Come with me, Prisoner!" He dashed out, and really short on options, the Prisoner followed. They did not go far before having to duck and hide against a wall; the dragon perched just above, not seeing them as it breathed fire on a group of defenders.

Tor Shuul!

Again, that... something...

[nordthuum]

"Ralof, you damned traitor! Out of my way!" They had made their way to the courtyard of Helgen's Keep, only to meet with the Stormcloak prisoner of earlier.

"We are making our way out of here, Hadvar, you better not try to stop us." It seemed the two men knew each other.

"I hope that Dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Hadvar made his way to the front doors of the keep, while Ralof continued on to a side entrance. After a moment of hesitation, the Prisoner made his way after the second man.

"Prisoner! Where are you going?" Hadvar's tone was of surprise.

"Why, Captain, I have a name. Good to know you already forgot it, as you forgot that not long ago you were ready to let my head fall off my shoulders." The Prisoner ducked inside, without waiting for a reply; there was nothing Hadvar could say that he'd like to hear.

[nordthuum]

"You better take Gunjar's gear: he'll not be needing it anymore." Ralof got up from examining the body of a fallen Stormcloak. "But first, let me take care of those bindings."

Finally someone with some sense... the Prisoner rubbed feeling back on his wrists and hands, before kneeling to remove the dead man's armor. "You think we can make our way out of here, between the Dragon and the Imperials?"

"Who knows? It is a Dragon, the harbinger of the End Times, but I don't think the Imperials would just let us go." Ralof was moving to examine the doors leading out of the room.

"We'll find out, then." The Prisoner quickly strapped the light mail and leather armor on. "Ready?"

"Someone is coming!" Ralof ducked on the far side of the door, and the Prisoner hid on the other side, ready to jump whoever was coming.

"Open this door, quickly!" The Prisoner could not hide a smile as he recognized the voice of the Commander who had ordered his execution...

[nordthuum]

"Helgen was built on top of caves... or so the stories say. If we keep going down, we should find a way out into the woods." Ralof took a swig from a bottle of wine found in an abandoned storeroom, and passed it over.

"If you say so." The Prisoner took the bottle and drank too, something to steady the nerves. "The Dragon seems to be destroying the whole keep." They could hear the echoes of the destruction, behind and above.

"No way to go but forward, then. But first..." Ralof smiled, offering a hand. "Let me not make the same mistake as Hadvar. I'm Ralof, of Riverwood."

The Prisoner chuckled, and shook the man's hand firmly. "I guess I picked the right person to help me out of this. I'm Einar, of Grimseth."

"Well met, Einar. If we make our way out of here, my sister Gerdur can help us. She owns the lumber mill in Riverwood, and it's not far from here." Ralof nodded, opening the next door.

"I hope she doesn't mind guests, then; I don't plan on dying here."

[nordthuum]

"A dragon." said Gerdur, shaking her head. "If it were not you talking, Ralof, I'd not believe it, even after seeing that thing in the sky earlier."

"Believe me, sister, we've been lucky to get out of Helgen alive." Ralof seemed ready to fall asleep right then and there.

"Well, you and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need. But someone has to go warn the Jarl in Whiterun; if that thing comes back, Riverwood is defenseless."

"I can do it." Einar spoke up. "In the morning. It's not like I am in any hurry to go home, after the Imperials took everything I owned."

"If you do this for us, we'll be in your debt," Gerdur said.

Einar's mind wandered a moment, regarding the tall woman and imagining ways he'd appreciate being repaid... but the woman's husband was right there. "Your brother saved my life, you owe me nothing. I will be off at first light."

In the meantime, the village inn seemed like a very good place where he could spend some time...