A New Beginning
7th Of First Seed, 4E 201
It appears the Divines have given me a new lease on life, and on the day of First Planting, no less: a time to set aside past differences, and start anew. Here I sit at the lumber mill in Riverwood, a quaint town nestled down in a lush valley. The small mill town is overhung by stony crags, and hugs a crystal clear river. The tranquility of the scene before me could not contradict more the chaos that unfurled the day previous…
There stood Hunter, tall, strong, like an oak amongst the thieves and prisoners of war; all walks of life brought together under the banner of death. For in the shadow of the stone keep that was the castle at Helgen: they were all marked. Hunter could sense the anticipation. Nearly tasting it, all could definitely smell it, as it manifested in the bodily fluids of those around him.
The piss, no matter how brave one was in battle.
The sweat, no matter how chill the spring air.
The blood, as the guard kicked another headless body aside.
Hunter looked skyward.
Spring: a new beginning. He closed his eyes, and could feel the remnants of a weak, fluttering smile crack his stone-like exterior. Soon, the little fawns would dance across the meadows of his vale, and the ice would give way to fresh salmon migrating up the stream. He could tell he was dancing the line between shock and reality, but he remained in his fantasy, if he could call it that.
It was a living memory, for the seasonal cycle had dominated the better part of his life, marking the end of yet another hard winter, and the beginning of another fruitful…
The squelch from the headsman's axe abruptly awakened him.
His eyes snapped downward, back to reality, to the still-rolling head.
He sighed, his long deep exhale frosting in the cool air. It billowed out, weaving between the shivering prisoners. Forty breaths, he estimated, maybe less. Probably less.
There resided forty more breaths in his lungs.
They knelt down another. Hunter wondered where that man had been, who his family was, what his trade was, who loved him.
The grisly thud halted his musing.
Hunter felt his lip turning in a snarl.
It does not matter anymore.
He watched the blood spurt out, and the head bounce away. It came to rest, facing the group. Some turned away, but Hunter looked on. He looked in. He peered into those lifeless eyes… and saw nothing.
Hunter could feel the rage building deep inside him.
He flexed his chains.
The soldiers had been cautious with him, ensuring to bind him in iron, unlike the majority.
Hearing the soft clinking, a guard eyed Hunter in discomfort.
Moments passed, and another soul was cut short.
Hunter could feel his body grow agitated.
The guards sensed this, and grew uneasy. One turned to the headsman, whispering in a hushed tone.
The hooded butcher nodded, turning to Hunter. Even behind the cowl, Hunter knew from his eyes it was his turn. One imperial grabbed his shoulder to shove him along, but he shrugged them off, walking over on his own accord. The soldier hesitated, momentarily taken aback, and Hunter slowly weaved through the crowd of shaken men. He stood there, pausing before the block.
He could taste the iron in the cold air.
They were cautious…
A guard put their foot in the small of his back, trying to push him down to the block.
…but not cautious enough.
Hunter whipped around, hands together, heavy chain slack, swinging it with all of his might, as if it were a flail.
Connecting with a metallic thud, the guard's teeth splintered from his mouth, eyes wide in fear, as his jaw was rent open. Hunter continued the spin, dropping low, and faced the astonished executioner. Without a moment's hesitation, he launched forward, dropping his shoulder, and bowled him over with all his might. Hunter knocked him backward and shoved past, but tumbled down after a few paces, off balance.
The prisoners scattered, some having freed themselves from their hasty binds, others charging the soldiers. It was chaos.
Hunter rolled, but could hear the world erupt around him.
Men shouted, swords were drawn.
Chaos.
And so it began.
Rolling back into a crouch, he opened his now deep crimson eyes.
Colors began to swirl, as the world went grey.
He began to flex his stiff back, as he could first feel the tension mounting in his shoulders.
They grew stiff, and then popped, sinew tearing and mending as the bones expanded.
A Stormcloak was cut down by an arrow.
Hunter's ribs ballooned out, and his spine stiffened.
Vertebrae popped out of place, then back in, as his jaw began to stretch, skin ripping like paper.
An imperial was overpowered, his sword taken.
Hunter's skin blackened, and his muscles began to tear.
Pearly, gleaming teeth became pointed and canine.
His exposed muscles steamed in the cold, as the skin thickened to a tarred hide.
Clear nails grew sharp, and midnight black.
Hunter collapsed to his hands, nearly overcome by the pain…
…Only to rear up to his full height, looking skyward to the heavens that had forsaken him.
The Hunter roared mightily, and sweeping out his arms, snapped the iron bonds at the links.
Imperials and prisoners alike all froze, terrified of the nightmare in their midst.
Silence.
The Hunter lowered his head, scanning their trembling forms.
The ground was blinding, covered with fresh blood: the thick scent permeated the air, glowing nearly white-hot and radiating up into his field of view. Inhaling sharply, he was buffeted by the thick, hanging smells as he grew accustomed to the surroundings.
Blinking, he let his flaming eyes adjust, until he was able to focus upon the men around him.
Time stood still.
The heartbeats of his prey fluttered rapidly in his ears, and their sweat wafted from them in faint wisps of warm-colored smoke.
Before anyone dared move, he sprang forward in a blur, grabbing a soldier by the side and arm in both taloned hands, splintering ribs. He plowed over him, slamming him into the ground. The Hunter could hear his bones crumble beneath the force, and retracting his hooked fingers from the man's flesh, he swiped his head with a great paw, splattering the cobblestones with stringed skin and matted flesh. He snapped his head up, eyeing the next victim.
They ran as if they were in water.
The next soldier made it only a half step away, before being leapt upon by the Great Wolf. Pinned and crushed, the man could not see the Hunter hook his claws around his head and pull it from his spine.
Many prisoners had fled in the panic, sprinting for the gate. They were being cut down by archers from the wall. Standing, and covered in glistening drops of blood, the Hunter unleased a mighty roar, arms outstretched, diverting their attention. In a few massive bounds, and one great leap, Hunter closed on the wall, and sprung onto it, bounding up it once more. He hung from one arm on the parapets.
The archers ducked back, trying to flee as he reached over, swiping with razor-like claws. He swung again, and grabbing one by the throat, threw him backwards over the parapet to his doom. One archer managed to get a shot off at his hulking form as he leapt over the rail, but it whistled over his shoulder. The Hunter stepped forward with a roar, crushing another scrambling away. He kicked the shooter backwards and down the stair with such force, he careened through wooden rail, and continued to tumble down the scaffolding.
The Hunter spun round, sensing prey, and swiped a rushing guard into the wall. He collapsed in a bloody heap, and the Great Wolf raised up, and with both fists clenched, crushed his crumpled form into Oblivion. He reared up, and surveyed the carnage.
In the distance, the Hunter could sense another threat approaching: an even greater peril. Turning, searching, his eyes locked onto an angel of death far greater than himself, just on the horizon.
Even in beast form, fear and dread shot through Hunter's heart like a shard of jagged ice, for arcing high above the frost-covered peaks, black as night, was a dragon of untold size and grandeur. It rose, spiraling and twisting into the evening sun, then curled and dropped like a missile toward the earth, wings folded back, streamlined. It gained speed, and unfurled its wings in an instant. It rushed forth, level above the trees: hurtling toward Helgen. It appeared tiny on the horizon, but within mere seconds, had nearly halved the distance to the town.
Hunter snapped his attention back to the mayhem below. Reinforcements were pouring from the keep like an angered anthill, oblivious to the approaching carnage. Some imperials were running still and donning armour, or drawing swords. The remaining prisoners had grouped together, perhaps a dozen in total. Some were still bound at the hands, attempting to wield swords, others were free, and wielding whatever weapons they could find. One simply clutched a shield, desperately trying to defend his companions. The Imperials were attempting to surround them, and would crush them momentarily if they were not stopped. Some soldiers were readying arrows, and attempting to take up higher positions from which to fire down on them.
Hunter turned, and looked over the wall at the dense forest just beyond. The imperials would not stand a chance at tracking him through those woods, much less trying to capture him. He could be long gone before the dragon. This was his ticket to freedom.
He turned back.
Whoosh…
His fine-tuned ears could distinctly hear the great gusts bending the trees beneath them, and stripping the saplings of leaves.
He leapt atop the parapet, and with one last look back, he jumped.
Racing back across the courtyard, and hounding down on the largest group of imperials amassing at the door, oblivious to either approaching danger, he barreled into them, arms outstretched, clotheslining as many as he could, and thrashing within the writhing, terrified mass. Shrieks of terror could be heard as he crushed their puny bodies and swiped them with such ferocity their shields were ripped from their arms, and helmets knocked free. Within seconds, the Hunter was simply thrashing blindly, the brightness of the prey's scent clouding his vision. Within moments, the threat lay decimated about him. He reared up.
Whoosh…
Louder now.
He roared at the remaining soldiers, they focused their gazes on Hunter's terrible form. This gave the prisoners the distraction they needed to attack the imperials. Hunter charged, throwing them, and swiping at them with his razor sharp claws.
Whoosh…
The sound was audible to others now, the dragon was closing in.
The imperials crumpled and retreated, fleeing the wolf and the prisoners, retreating into the open. The dust and pebbles swirled, the people were buffered by a great wind. And then it hit.
The dragon landed on the keep with a mighty crash, rocks and beams breaking under the weight, and collapsing off the sides. The dragon unleashed a mighty roar, greater than anything the men and hunter alike had ever heard. People fled every which way in panic. Hunter knew there was no time for delay.
He could feel himself reverting. The roar of the dragon had struck him to his core.
He charged the great wooden doors, and ripped them wide open in a last ditch effort, his weakening muscles nearly failing him. A falling boulder bounced down, and caved in a prisoner's skull. Hunter shouted weakly at the prisoners, trying to form words.
A gout of flame incinerated a home, and swept across some archers, consuming them. The air grew thick with acrid smoke, and the screams of the dying. Colors returned to Hunter's vision, as the fuel for his rage was spent. Even in the open air, it was becoming hard to breathe.
The prisoners sprinted into the keep, and Hunter drew the door shut, relying upon his weight alone, as his body had failed him. He collapsed back, panting, and two Stormcloak soldiers slid the beams in place to brace it. His clothes were in tatters, and he felt weak, his outbreak rendering him nearly unconscious. He crawled back, slowly rising to his feet. Stumbling to the wall, he slumped over, sliding down until he was seated. Putting his forearms on his knees, he hung his head low, panting, as spittle frothed from his mouth.
It was deathly silent inside, compared to the outside chaos.
He could hear the others shuffling about, and murmuring. Occasionally a boom would rack the keep, sending drifts of dust down to the floor.
After a few moments, Hunter looked up, and examined his company. There were five in total remaining, four men, including Hunter, and one woman. They were all collapsed in some fashion, panting, and staring at him. He shook his head, and struggled to rise to his feet.
Unable to of his own accord, he slid back against the wall, and eyed the group. They were hesitant to approach him. Hunter felt ashamed, he must have terrified them.
After a few seconds of renewed struggle, another prisoner came over and lent a hand, aiding him in leaning against the wall. Hunter flexed his legs, clenching his teeth through the pain, as he managed to control their trembling of his own accord. Hunter turned to the group, and noticed a man off to the side, standing, attempting to file down his iron chains on the corner of a wall.
He was the only other prisoner that had iron chains, aside from Hunter, and his mouth was covered still by a black rag. Hunter pushed off from the wall, and slowly made his way over. He gingerly scooped up a hatchet one of the prisoners had grabbed, and stopped beside the man.
"Sir."
The man didn't so much as glance at him, just kept filing.
"Let's cut them."
Hunter gestured for the others to get up and ready.
The man stopped filing, and faced him, standing tall and proud.
Hunter gestured at the table they were standing next to with the hatchet, and the man laid his chain across it. Hunter's days at the forge served him well, and within a few well-aimed strikes, he sheared the chain in two. The man removed his gag, and spoke.
"Thank you," he said, his voice deep and steady.
Hunter nodded, subtly gripping the table as his vision narrowed. He felt incredibly weak, and the sudden activity had made him dizzy.
The group moved on after Hunter slid the hatchet back to its owner. They continued into the main tower via a narrow corridor, which eventually led to a wider hallway that turned to the right after twenty feet. There was a door to the left. Hunter continued past it with the man, a Stormcloak, and the woman supported by him. She had been shot in the leg by an arrow, and was limping. Screams and crashes could still be heard muffled from the outside. The last two men stopped to try the door. Hunter turned.
"We have to keep going, don't worry about tha-"
With a deafening crash, and an explosion of rubble and dust, the wall and door crashed inward, covering the men in an instant in boulders, and spreading smoke thick in the air. The dragon's tail swung out of view.
The group was staggered, and Hunter wheeled about, falling to his knees. The group struggled to regain their footing as the dragon walked about outside, slamming its tail against the earth. Standing, Hunter helped the woman to her feet, as the man pulled up the Stormcloak by his smock.
"Hurry!" Hunter shouted.
They ran towards the end of the hall, and as Hunter turned, he spied the dragon peering inside at them, as if they were ants in a broken open mound. They rounded the corner, and came face to face with a great wooden door. More of the keep collapsing could be heard behind them, and the vibrations shook the ground beneath their feet, knocking them down again.
"It's trying to bring the tower down!" shouted the soldier.
They clambered to their feet and charged the door, throwing their full weight against it. Hunter nearly broke his foot trying to kick the solid oaken double doors in, and stumbled back, dazed. The man waved them back. He opened his mouth and shouting in an ancient language, unleashed a mighty gust of wind, trying to blow it in, off its hinges. Dust and splinters filled the air, but it was to no avail.
They began pounding on the door to be let in, pleading with those inside. They could hear the dragon force its head through the wall, and inhale. Hunter and the man stopped, looked at the door, and pulled it wide open, pushing the soldier and woman inside and closing it, just as the dragon spewed fire down the corridor.
In the darkness, the group did not see the stairs leading down to the dungeon, and in their haste, tumbled down the stone steps. They came to a rest at the bottom, badly shaken and bruised. As soon as they stopped at the bottom platform, the woman began to scream, and in the dim light, Hunter could see her grabbing at her leg. The broken arrow was still impaled, and during the fall, she had landed on it, forcing it in deeper.
She was unable to stand, so Hunter and the man lifted her, and the soldier ran ahead, to grab a torch from the corridor. Hunter looked down, and noticed blood streaking across the floor behind them, and following the trail with his eyes, noticed that it was seeping down from her leg, under her pants. Realizing the severity of the wound, Hunter called out to the soldier, and they laid her down.
"Bring the torch, we need to see how bad this is."
Hunter told the woman to brace herself, as he gently tore the fabric to reveal the wound. Blood spurted from the aggravated wound onto Hunter, and he quickly pressed down around the arrow.
"Ah, fuck!" he shouted, trying to depress it and stymie the flow.
The woman began to scream, and tried to tear his hands away. The soldier dropped the torch to cover her mouth, and the man grabbed her arm. Eventually they subdued her, though she continued to struggle. Blood pooled between his fingers, and his hands kept slipping around. As he tried to ebb the flow, whenever the wound became visible, blood would spray out.
"It's okay, it's okay, we'll stop it. Stay with us." Hunter was scrambling.
"You, just hold her, and you, put some pressure on where my hands are okay?"
The man nodded, "Aye, lad."
"On three. One. Two." The man put his hands over Hunter's. "Three." Hunter slid his hands out, and before the man could press down, blood streamed out again.
"Shit, shit, shit." The soldier repeated.
She began to thrash around, in a state of total panic.
Hunter quickly straightened up on his knees, and tore off his shirt. She was pleading, terrified of what was happening to her, begging them to stop it in muffled tones as the soldier tried in vain to keep her quiet. Hunter ripped it into a few strips hastily, and looped one under her leg above the wound. Searching desperately for something to use to tighten it, he found none. In haste, he grabbed the two ends of the strip, and constricted her leg as tight as he could. She renewed her thrashing, nearly exhausted.
Her head began to roll.
"Stay with us! Don't close… Stop!... Don't close them! …your eyes!" Hunter stammered out between breaths.
He tied off the strip.
Blood continued to ooze through the man's fingers. He seemed undaunted by the grisly task.
Hunter grabbed the next strip, and tried to see if he could take out the arrow without causing more damage. He didn't want to take the risk, so he wrapped the arrow shaft in the strip, and slid the mass down into the gaping wound that had formed. She nearly fainted.
"Talk to her dammit!"
The soldier began to stammer out anything that came to mind, as Hunter poked a hole in another strip, and fit it over the arrow, sliding it down so it was flush with the skin. He looped it under, and over, and holding the two ends on top of her leg, smoothed out the strip. He hesitated. He glanced at the man, who nodded.
"Hold her tight"
Her eyes widened, and the soldier did so. "I'm sorry" Hunter tightened the compress on the wound. She fainted from the pain. He was careful to not move the arrow, and only tighten the pressure. He tied it off, and had the man remove his hands.
The bleeding continued, pooling under the bandages, and spilling onto the floor. They became frantic.
"Fuck!" Hunter could see there was nothing more they could do, but they had to try anyway.
As he went to tie another strip above the wound, the man grabbed his arm. He slightly shook his head. Hunter questioned him, but he just took up her small hand in his great palm, and held it in both of his. He looked at her lying there so peacefully, just waiting it out with her, as she continued to bleed out.
Her breathing was so shallow, so weak.
Who knows how long passed, but eventually it slowed…
…and then stopped altogether.
Hunter had tears in his eyes. He leaned back on his heels, and kicked back. He sat, slumped against the wall for a few moments. He was exhausted, not only physically.
He glanced away.
A few seconds passed, and as Hunter wiped his face, her blood streaked across it like a war paint. He looked down, and was nearly sickened by how much of it there was on and around him. They were slipping around in a total pool of it.
A pool of this poor woman's blood.
He composed himself. Nothing he had not seen before. This seemed so different though. He couldn't put a finger on it. The man took her hand, and kissing it, put it on her chest. He moved her other arm, and eased down her head.
Standing, he spoke, "It's time for us to move on,"
The soldier stood hesitatingly, and Hunter did the same. He picked up the torch, and they pressed on. Looking back one final time, Hunter fixed the image of her lifeless body in his mind as a reminder.
"I am Ulfric," the man said, after some time had passed, breaking the silence. "Jarl of Windhelm." It occurred to Hunter that the soldier already knew this, and was in great awe of the man. Hunter was as well, humbled by his presence. He would have extended some courtesy to this great man, but in light of all that had transpired, he was already pretty spent. "I am Ralof." They paused, waiting for him to continue.
"And I am Hunter."
The man nodded solemnly, and they continued on. After a few moments, they reached a small, rectangular room with a few holding cells, the doorway on the other side was filled with rubble. Hunter could see immediately, that the rubble was very old, covered in webs and lichen.
Hunter immediately remembered that Helgen keep was in fact a ruin, before the empire occupied it as an outpost for executions and interrogations. Set high in the very much untamed southern mountains of Skyrim, it offered a relatively private post for such unsavory matters. Hunter knew the dark woods well, as they were the northern reaches of the very same mountains Hunter used to call home.
Hunter skipped looking around the room for keys, knowing full well they would not work on the locks for their cuffs. As Ralof looked around the room for weapons, Hunter sat down in one of the cells, and began searching under the straw: eventually finding exactly what he was looking for.
He worked the lockpick around and around, remembering he was never much good at this shady talent. After the better part of a half hour, he had freed his hands and moved on to Ulfric's.
Another boom shook the keep, and dust drifted down upon them.
"Let's keep going." Ulfric repeated, eyeing the ceiling. They continued on through the winding subterranean halls, when their worst expectations were met. Rounding a corner, they came face to face with freshly fallen rubble, completely blocking their path. Without hesitation, they set to moving rubble, hoping it would lead them to the depths of the dungeon and some way out of the keep.
At one point, Ulfric stepped back:
"That was quite a display you put on out there."
Hunter kept moving rock, but nodded.
No one spoke for a little while, but kept moving rockwork.
"Is that why the empire brought you here?"
"Somewhat… Aye, well… that didn't help my case much." Hunter tried not to stammer too much, even though he was out of breath. His arms burned from tossing stone.
"So what was it then?"
Hunter remained silent, trying to think of how he should broach this subject.
Ulfric stopped digging.
"What crime did you commit to end up here?" he pressed.
"None."
A long pause.
"Where are you from?"
Hunter stood, and turned to face Ulfric. "The Northern woods of Cyrodiil, a few dozen miles south."
Ulfric nodded, "What did you do there? For work?"
"I've always hunted, but I was a blacksmith's apprentice for a little while."
"Ah, quite the noble profession."
"I liked it, yeah."
Another pause, Hunter realized Ulfric was eying him over.
His conscience was screaming at him to break the silence and tell more, which is just what Ulfric wanted.
Hunter resumed digging instead.
"I'm no criminal."
"No…" Ulfric said coldly, "No, you're not. But you have killed men before" Ulfric continued immediately.
"Aye, sir"
"Imperials?"
Hunter resumed digging without a word.
After a few moments: "Aye, sir."
Ulfric laughed, "No need to be worried, we all have…" he trailed off.
A long silence sensued.
"There must be a story behind it… For one of my men would immediately recognize me, and declare him under my banner…" Ulfric said calmly.
"…but an imperial deserter…" he continued, sinisterly.
Hunter had already realized the implications of this, but waited for him to continue. Several tense moments passed.
Stopping his digging, he turned to Ulfric, "I… uh, I know you've got no reason to believe me, but I'm neither."
Ralof chimed in, "He did kill all those guards before the dragon came."
Hunter had completely forgotten about Ralof in this exchange, but was thankful for his input. He resumed tossing stones, occasionally heaving aside a timber, and needing to catch his breath after.
"Yeah, there's a story. But, it's a bit of a long one."
"We have time." Ulfric said, slightly more upbeat.
Hunter paused in his digging, but then restarted. It was slow going at first, but he recounted as much as he dared.
"I joined the town guard to help rid our area of the bandits and vampires… and wolves, and such... They were making life difficult for everyone, and I wanted to do something about it… The town guards were not well trained, but, it was better than not joining. The guards felt their hands were tied so often, and the imperial legionnaires that passed through… they just…" Hunter paused. "You know."
Ulfric nodded, Ralof spat.
"They fuckin' sat by and watched our lands burn. Some of them were no better than bandits themselves, stealing from the bars and innkeepers, harassing some of the women. It was disgusting, and I wanted no part in it, so I started to go off on my own, or with some of the other guards that were worth their salt, and tired of this… and we would go out and deal with issues on our own. We would go out and slay wolves for the farmers, and drive out bandits, but our captain but his boot down on this and forbade it, especially after some of us got hurt."
Hunter paused, catching his breath.
"We grew even more frustrated, until one day, I was out on patrol, just guarding the market, when I saw an old man getting harassed by some of the imperial soldiers… His son had gone north to Skyrim to join your ranks, and they blamed him, they took it out on him, you know?"
Hunter resumed digging. "They started with just taunting him, then it got worse."
Ulfric nodded, listening intently. "They knocked down his wares, and began to beat him."
"I… I just got so damned angry, and I just… I snapped."
There was a long pause. Hunter stared at the rubble with his back to them.
"They tracked me down, and brought me here for execution. Across the border, you know, so there was no sort of news travelling that I was a Stormcloak sympathizer, or the rebellion had crossed over or… any of that."
They paused a while.
"So you really are not one of my rebels."
Hunter shook his head. "No, sir, just a fugitive."
"Then… why did you fight? More so, why did you save my men, and even after, come back? You saw that dragon approaching, I know you did… You had ample time to flee… and yet here you are, because you came back to ensure my men had a chance."
Hunter shrugged, somewhat embarrassed, and still a little shell shocked.
"If you are not truly a son of Skyrim, nor one of my men…"
"It was the right thing to do."
Another long pause. "I see…Well, we could use men like you, you know."
No response. Hunter freed a great boulder, and it tumbled down the face. Dirt poured into its place. Hunter began scooping that out.
"Have you thought about our cause before?"
"Yes, sir. Quite a bit… I guess… well…My town just needed me more."
"How so?"
"Well, like I said, the imperial soldiers did little to protect the town, so I joined the guard to help protect everyone against the bandits and wolves, locally."
Hunter stuck his feet into the hole, and hanging from a wooden beam, pushed out the rest of the debris, opening a hole to the other side just big enough for a man to fit through. He turned back to them.
"…Now that that's gone," he continued, brushing the dirt form his hands, "well, I really hadn't given the future a whole lot of thought on the way here."
"Looks like you'll have to time to think about that after all," Ulfric said, smiling.
Hunter smirked, "Let's get out of here first."
The hall continued, but the wall had been busted down to the left, and opened to the main chamber stairwell of the keep. They continued down it. While Ulfric and Hunter were unarmed, Ralof held an imperial longsword at the ready. They progressed to a door leading into another dungeon, an angular room with holding cells. No one was present, but there was a dead, mutilated Stormcloak soldier in the cell. Ulfric stopped, kneeled, and paid his respects.
Hunter picked up a great Warhammer leaning against the wall, and handed it to Ulfric. Nodding, Ulfric rose, and they pressed on, through the dark, dank tunnels, and came to a stairwell. At the bottom was a door, and voices sounded within. They crept to the bottom of the stair, cautious, and thankful the soldiers were creating their own distraction. They peered through the fenced window, hanging back out of view from the light. There was an imperial soldier leaning against the door, directly against the bars. There were two more to the left of the door, and two on the right. There was a table in the middle and a pillar in the center, against which the table was pushed. One of the soldiers sat on the far side of the table, upon which lanterns and food sat, with another soldier directly behind him.
"I told you, we have to go out there and see if anyone is still alive" said the far one. He had a bow.
"Fuck that shit. I won't do it," said the one to the left of the door.
A resounding yeah echoed through the room.
"So we just leave them?"
Hunter nodded to Ulfric, and gestured to the one at the door, the left, and far right with the bow as Ralof's and his.
"No one leaves here, not on my-" his words were cut short as Ralof slid his sword through the grate which punched through his throat. Hunter slammed the door open with his shoulder, and the force wrenched Ralof's blade free. Ralof charged left as Hunter barreled in, and skewered one imperial straight through the gut before he could even draw his sword.
Ulfric shouted through the room, knocking the soldier in the far left back, clear off his feet and into the wall. The far right soldier was about to fire his bow, when Hunter hurled a chair across the room, knocking him off balance.
Ulfric blocked the overhead attack of the soldier who had been seated at the table, and bashed the side of his face, knocking him down. In one great chop, Ulfric crushed his chest with his great Warhammer.
Hunter ran past him as the archer prepared again to fire, and threw the lantern at him. The lantern hit him right above the eye, stunning him just enough for Hunter to close in. Ulfric finished the one he had shouted down. Hunter kicked the bowman's knee in as he staggered backwards.
He took him to the ground, and began pummeling him, dealing massive blows with his right fist, while holding his throat with his left. Soon, he fell unconscious.
They looked around, nodding to one another, and stepped over the bodies to move on. Hunter bid Ralof grab a knapsack and take the food. Hunter picked up the bow and slung the arrows over his shoulder, stopping to examine the unconscious soldier. He took the soldier's dagger, and buckled the sheath to his belt, leaving him badly beaten, but alive.
Deeper into the keep they continued, as the hallways got progressively narrower and more like tunnels. Hunter grabbed Ralof just before he was about to round a corner. Hunter crouched, drew an arrow, and slowly peeked around the corner, hugging the wall tightly. Seeing a sentry posted at the end of the tunnel, he exhaled quickly, and loosed the arrow. Whistling rapidly the twenty meters down the hall, it plunged through his neck. The sentry twisted slightly, gurgling, and dropped his own bow. In short time, he fell to his knees, weakly grabbing at his chest and throat. They rounded the corner, as he toppled forward, face-down.
Deeper into the keep they went, as the tunnels twisted and wound more and more the further they explored. Along the way they looted barrels and supply crates for food and anything they could use. The tunnels became more subterranean in nature, and in short time, the tunnels gave way to caves. After some more walking they came to a cavern. The cavern was shaped as a pointed oval, with the left side being about two meters higher than the right, and a cliff running long ways in the middle. There was one sentry on the lower level. He was leaning against a rock, flipping a coin, facing away from them. Hunter leaned out from the corridor; arrow knocked, and took aim.
He exhaled lightly, and then fired.
The sentry shifted his weight, and the arrow went careening past him, clattering loudly against the rockwork. He glanced over, surprised, then dropped down behind the boulder, shouting as he went.
"Fuck!" Ralof said, rushing forward. Hunter swiftly went after him, and the sound of their footsteps flushed him out. Sprinting and bent double, the soldier scrambled to get away from them. The soldier ran around a boulder, and Hunter loosed another arrow, catching him mid-thigh. With a howl, he clutched his leg and fell. Ralof charged up, and ran him through the midriff as he rolled over in pain. Within moments, six soldiers charged through the far entrance.
"Spread out," barked the leader. They did so, and began searching for the prisoners, by now hidden behind different boulders in the dim light. The soldiers fanned out and began sweeping the room. One inched closer and closer to Hunter, and saw the body. Hunter could see him look around wildly, and need only step forward to practically stumble over Hunter himself.
Inexplicably, he turned, and taking advantage of the opening, Hunter sprung up behind him, covered his mouth, and punched the dagger through his leather armor into his back. He dragged him behind the rock as well. Seconds later, an archer nearly tripped over Ralof, who stuck him in the belly with his sword, dropping him with a horrible scream. It was on.
The captain shouted out the target, and the archers tried to scramble atop boulders for shots. Hunter popped up, knocking an arrow, and dropped one easily with a shot to the chest. He ducked back, and after knocking another arrow, he moved to the other side. Swiveling around, he loosed another arrow.
Spiraling midflight, it also embedded into another imperial's chest. Ulfric blocked the overhead slash of the captain, and kicked him in the groin. He doubled over, and without hesitation, Ulfric capped the back of his head with a downward strike as if it were a peg. The captain collapsed in a heap at his feet. Ralof was circling the last imperial as Hunter hit him in the side with an arrow, and Ralof ran him through. They paused, chests heaving, as the panic subsided.
"Thanks for distraction with that first one." Hunter said to Ralof, as he kicked the rock he had tossed earlier.
"No trouble, kinsman."
Shortly thereafter, they came to the bunkroom the soldiers had come from. They all donned cloaks, and gathered packs to carry food and water. Ralof left the sword, and picked up a handaxe, as Hunter donned boots and a shirt. Eventually, the tunnel met with an underground stream, and they could feel the wind on their faces, a surefire indicator of an exit. They followed it downstream. Finally, the cave began to lighten up, and it opened to a high cavern with stalagmite columns. This opened up into a round cave with a mouth leading to the outside.
Ralof laughed, "Homeward bound, eh?"
Hunter tried to keep him quiet.
"What?" He said, oblivious to the danger.
Then, he heard the breathing. Slowly turning and crouching low, they could make out the furry shape of a large grizzly bear, sleeping in the center of the room.
"Let's sneak around it."
"I'd rather you pump it full of arrows." Ralof said.
Hunter thought about it.
"You might be stealthy enough to sneak by, but we'll surely wake it." Ulfric continued, along Ralof's train of though.
Ulfric and Ralof continued, as if Hunter had agreed, bracing for the fight.
"You haven't guided us wrong yet, just be sure it doesn't get up after you wake it." Ralof reminded.
Hunter began warming his fingers. Speed would be crucial here. He nocked an arrow, and nodded to them. They turned, and focused. He drew it all the way back, and sent it directly into the side of the bear's neck, turning its head slightly from the force. It opened its big brown eyes, clearly enraged.
Hunter nocked another and sent it whistling behind its shoulder as it rose, near its heart. Ulfric readied his stance, and tightened his grip. The bear squared off and roared. Hunter sent another to the back of its throat.
It fell to all fours, and shook its head, working its jaw. Blood-thickened froth fell from its lips. It snorted, and charged, lumbering towards them. Ralof stepped ahead and Ulfric waited behind, in accordance with the unspoken plan. As it drew close, he side-stepped to the right of the bear, and executed a clockwise turn, in order to maximize the force of impact. The swipe hewed the bear's jawbone from its skull, and left the war axe embedded. He dove aside, and as its momentum kept it travelling forward, about to collide with Ulfric, he brought the hammer down through its head.
Ulfric cleaned the caked dirt and gore off of his hammer. Hunter retrieved his arrows, and they stepped over the furry mass, nearing the mouth of the cave.
"Time to go."
They paused before the exit, staring out into the blackness of the night.
"Where to now?"
"I have a sister in Riverwood, along the northbound road... she'll help us." Ralof said.
"Time for me to follow then, eh?" Hunter replied.
The companions hiked a few more hours, until stopping and resting in the hollowed pit of an overturned tree on the banks of the White River. It began to rain lightly, so the trio gathered branches and made a lean-to. By the time they finished, the rain had picked up, and they were unable to find dry wood for a fire. Hunter rinsed the blood from himself, and returned to the hut. They ate a meager supper of the supplies they had taken from the keep: bread, apples, and raw vegetables. Despite the cold and wet, their cramped shelter was quite the relief to the trio. After a few hours of light dozing, they gathered their things, broke down their impromptu camp, and continued on to Riverwood.
Eventually, they could see torches in the distance. Ralof hung back with Ulfric off the trail, until Hunter went ahead and ensured the coast was clear. Ralof led them through the quaint hamlet, to a small island situated in the middle of the river. On the island was a large lumber mill, complete with a waterwheel. The scent of freshly-hewn lumber hung in the air, even though it was far after hours.
"Shit…" Ralof began. "They're already home… my mistake."
They turned, glancing about, and walked up the road past the tavern. Unlike the rest of the town, music and laughter could be heard drifting from inside. Ralof led the others to perhaps the largest house in Riverwood, and knocked on the door.
Hunter shifted nervously, as they were completely exposed now.
Hunter and Ulfric looked around, knowing full well, that if there were any imperials watching the town, they were in trouble. Ralof knocked again.
No response.
Minutes ticked by.
The group was getting anxious.
"Gerdur…" Ralof whispered, "It's me, Ralof, open up."
No response. He knocked again, louder.
"We should get moving, this is dangerous." Hunter said.
Ralof ignored him.
"We need your…"
The door slowly swung open part way, and a man stood there.
His eyes lit up. "Ralof! By Talos, it is you!"
He opened the door fully, and gestured the haggard bunch in. Quickly peeking out to checking for prying eyes, the man closed the door again. Barring it once more, he set a hand axe down on the table.
Apparently they were not the only ones being cautious, Hunter remarked silently.
Ulfric and Hunter stood by the fire place as Ralof and the man clasped arms, and embraced. The man called in a hushed voice down the hall, and a woman appeared. Rushing up to Ralof, she exclaimed:
"Ralof! Dear brother! How are you? Are you hurt?"
"No, no Gerdur, I'm fine. Something happened at Helgen."
Her eyes grew wide. "What? What do you mean something happened? Why were you there?"
He sighed, and glanced at us. She looked at us too and questioned him again.
"There was… we were…" He then dove right into the story, which took several minutes to relate, and was benchmarked by numerous gasps from Gerdur, and head shakes from the man.
Apparently, his troop of soldiers were ambushed and captured at Darkwater Crossing by the imperials, completely overwhelmed. They were lumped with a group of other prisoners for execution. The man banged his fist on the table. "Those traitorous dogs!"
Ralof continued and told of the struggle that ensued. Hunter held his breath. Lycans weren't particularly welcome guests in Skyrim, nor anywhere else for that matter.
He need not worry, for Ralof simply said that Hunter started the struggle with the guards, and ended up saving a lot of the prisoners certain death, at least by giving them a fighting chance. He then got to the bad part.
"Well, we got the upper hand at the beginning, but then things started looking pretty grim, as word got out, and reinforcements started coming in. Then… you know… a, um, well… a dragon attacked Helgen." He paused.
Gerdur did not even seem to register what he had said. Gerdur's son, however, chimed in from the hallway.
"A Dragon! Did you slay it Uncle Ralof? Did you make a sword from his bones?" At that, Gerdur hopped up, startled, and shooed him away, and covered her mouth, astonished.
Hunter and Ulfric, warming themselves by the fire, exchanged knowing glances as he continued. The man, Gerdur, and Ralof began hurriedly discussing the implications, ultimately believing the grim news. Gerdur quickly composed herself, and for the first time, addressed Hunter and Ulfric.
"Please forgive me, what kind of hostess am I? You have endured such great perils, please, I will fetch you something to eat. Drink, maybe?" She bustled out the room before either could argue, and called the man from the kitchen. Ralof made his way over to his companions, and pulled up chairs by the fire. They sat, and stoked it.
"My brother-in-law is a good man, Hod, he can be trusted as well, I can assure you."
"I can tell he harbors no love for the Imperials." Ulfric agreed.
"Must run in the family." Hunter remarked with a grin.
The trio chuckled, grateful for the fire's warmth. Even spring in Skyrim could sap the warmth from a weary traveler quickly. Hunter reminded himself to not forget that, or it could be the death of him.
At length, Ulfric spoke. "Ralof, Hunter, we cannot delay. The imperials will be scouring these mountains for any survivors come sunrise, perhaps even before then. We had better move on quickly while there is still time."
"Yes mi'Lord, she will bring us some supplies for the trip to Windhelm, and we can then move at once."
Ulfric nodded. "Hunter?"
Hunter glanced over to Ulfric.
"You do intend on accompanying us… do you not?"
Hunter stammered for words. "I… well, I had not given it much thought."
Ulfric paused, and Hunter knew he could read him like a book.
"That is fine." He leaned in. "When you have given it enough thought, seek me out. We… Skyrim, needs more men like you."
Gerdur returned, bringing plates of food. Ulfric was locked on Hunter still.
Hunter paused a while. "Aye, sir."
"Very good." Ulfric stood, and grabbed Hunter's shoulder, looking him briefly in the eye. He then straightened and removed his hood, facing Gerdur and Hod.
They both gasped, realizing the man before them. Gerdur nearly dropped the food, and they both fell to a knee.
"Please, rise." They did so at his command voice. "Your hospitality has saved the lives of our trio, and breathed new life into the dying rebellion. For that, I, and the people of Skyrim, are eternally grateful." They nodded hastily, standing.
"Time is short, and dawn approaches, we must make for Windhelm before the vice closes, and the imperials grow wise of our whereabouts. We have asked much of you already, may we trouble you further?"
They both nodded again hastily. "Of course, mi'Lord."
Ulfric smiled in appreciation, and Hunter got to his feet. "We require two horses. We must ride swift and light."
"I can give you two of my draft horses from the mill."
"You realize I cannot compensate you, perhaps for a long time." He said, as he bid Ralof eat.
"Anything for our king." Gerdur interjected.
He thanked them, and grabbed a loaf of bread, and a waterskin. "I am no King yet."
"Sir, please, sit and eat, I'll help Hod with the horses." Hunter said.
Ulfric thanked him with a nod, and sat, ravenously eating the food.
Hod and Hunter made their way outside, and back to the mill.
"I am Hod, by the way, things got a bit hectic back there, didn't get the chance to proper introduce myself." He said, extending his hand.
"Hunter" he replied, shaking hands.
"Listen, we really can't thank you enough for bringing our kin back to us, my sister would…"
"It's no trouble, he's a good man… Really, he saved my life as much as I saved his."
Hod nodded, and they saddled up the horses. As they led them back to the house, Hunter saw lights far down the trail, coming from the south.
They froze.
"Move." Hunter hissed.
Hod saw the lights, and they hurried the horses up the road and behind the houses. Hunter rushed Hod inside, while he snuck around the palisade, and slipped back south, moving between the bushes like a wolf stalks prey. He continued in the direction of the lights, slipping behind boulders and under saplings, boots padding on the soft ground. When he was about a dozen paces up the trail from the torches, he ducked behind a great oak tree, out of sight.
And so Hunter waited. The voices grew louder. He peered around the tree, verifying they were oblivious to his presence.
Imperials.
Eight of them.
They were on a mission, marching with haste toward Riverwood.
He could probably kill some of them, possibly all. Hunter feared, however, that he may be too weak to take his wolf form. Even worse, if they went missing, the town would pay. He had to make it back and send off Ralof and Ulfric immediately.
Without hesitation, he sprinted carefully off toward Riverwood. Racing through town, out of breath, he ran up to the door, and swung it open.
"They're coming."
Ulfic and Ralof jumped up, and Gerdur led them out the back. They donned their hoods, and sprung up onto the horses. Gerdur held Ralof's hand to her cheek, and bid him luck and goodbye. Hunter stood back, and nodded to the both of them.
"I'll see you again, friend," said Ralof.
Ulfric continued, "I eagerly await that day."
With a nod to Gerdur and Hod, and a quick thanks, they were off. They trotted through the town, away from the road, and linked up with it on the other side, remaining out of sight of the soldiers, until they too disappeared. Gerdur leaned against Hod, and he pulled her close. Hunter slipped inside, scooped up his ruck, quiver, and bow, and donned his cloak. He reached the front door prepared to sprint off, but Gerdur stopped him.
"You do not have to leave, we…"
"If they find me here, I… I fear for your family, I must move on."
She made to argue, but Hod grabbed her arm and nodded.
"Thank you both for your hospitality. I…"
Hod interjected quickly. "There is a fallen tree on the other side of the White River, past our mill, the trunk has been hollowed out over time, and it is big enough for a man to fit. You should rest there until the morn."
Hunter glanced back at the road, time was running short.
Hod had Gerdur ran inside, and continued. "Once dawn has broken, we will begin working the mill, if the Imperials have passed, I will leave a lit lantern on the side of the island closest to you."
Gerdur returned, with a brown wool blanket rolled tightly in twine, and a small parcel of food. She placed the parcel in his ruck, along with a waterskin, and fixed the rolled blanket to the outside. Hod continued, "If you see that light, swim over, and you can stay with us as long as you need. We can give you any things you require for your journey then."
Hunter nodded, and Gerdur touched his arm, thanking him silently. Hunter shook Hod's hand, and was off into the night.
He wove through buildings, stealthily stalking through the town, crawling under porches, and crouching behind barrels. Eventually he came to the main road.
The Imperials had arrived.
"Shit," he whispered, cursing his slow movements. He should have just headed northward out of town.
Swiftly, he crawled under the wooden stairs leading to the Inn, and peered out from behind some ferns. His many years of stalking game had served him well.
The Imperials split into groups of two, one pair going toward the mill, another down the road, the third toward the homes, including Gerdur's, yet the fourth hesitated. Hunter shifted his weight; an old bottle of ale was directly beneath him, poking his side. He pushed it aside.
Hunter examined the pair. One was of a higher rank, the commander of the group, the other a simple infantryman.
Hunter's heart sank as they turned, and came directly at him.
He leveled himself, burying his face in the grass and dirt.
He could hear the clicking of the metal studs on the officer's boots as he stepped.
They came closer, and he gripped his dagger, holding his breath.
The officer began to climb the stairs directly above him.
Click, Clack, Click, Clack, Click.
The soldier followed behind, and made his way up the stairs.
Thud.
"Fuck." The soldier hissed.
Hunter flinched, and glanced upward in panic.
The soldier had tripped over himself, and braced himself on the stairs.
Hunter could see his face, his eyes. There was no way he wouldn't see him if he hesitated any longer.
The officer turned to face him. He scoffed.
"You damn oaf! Get the fuck up!" The officer spat.
Hunter turned his head back down to avoid the torchlight.
If he were to only…
"Wait!"
Hunter froze.
"Sir, there's a guy down there!"