Just...a trial. I have been reading Assassin's Creed Forsaken and was inspired to make a journal-like prose.
Riverwood blacksmith's basement became our temporary refuge in this cold northern land, despite being early in spring the weather was extremely cold for visitor hailing from Imperial City. The Imperial soldier's uncle willingly provide us lodging and food, not to mention risking themselves caught red-handed giving assistance to Imperial soldier as Stormcloaks discourage if not disliking completely such action. To the smith family though, it would be an act of kindness as they extended a helping hand for a relative in need. Alvor's alignment in the war was clear enough, he prefers the Imperial over Stormcloaks.
"Are you warm enough, laddies? Do you need more fur?" blacksmith Alvor's voice could be heard from above the set of wooden stair leading to upper floor. Wood creaked under his strong legs and sure footings. The bearded blacksmith descended the wooden stairs bringing animal fur for his visitors to use for the night. Be it as makeshift bed or as a blanket.
The Imperial soldier named Hadvar answered his caring uncle, "I am fine, uncle. Though the same could not be said for our city-bred Nord". Pointing at the other occupant of the room, me. A Nord hailing from Imperial City shivering at one dark corner of the basement. Living in comfortable University environment had made the visitor more susceptible to the elements. Not to mention the central part of Cyrodiil has that warm temperature and could be said to have the most comfortable weather compared to anywhere in Tamriel. Especially when compared with humid Elyswyr woods and searing sands by Redguard territory. Although I must add Skyrim chillness to the list. They weren't kidding when they said Burma was not cold enough for a Nord.
Decided to swallow my pride, I replied to Hadvar's query "Indeed, if this city-bred Nord could have more fur…I would be much obliged"
"Fancy words you said, " commented the blacksmith as he tossed the fur towards his visitor. The peculiar Imperial Nord wearing dirty mage robe she got from dead body, which clearly shown from the mis-matched size. Clearly having aptitude in spell casting. The spells, in fact had saved his nephew's life more than once that day.
Sleeping on a bear fur inside a basement was more preferable compared to the situation both Hadvar and I had experienced during the day, being chased by dragon and Stormcloaks felt like a lifetime ago. Alvor's wife had served stewed venison during the dinner few hours before. Although the taste was not as refined as Imperial canteens' meals, the stew was hearty and filling. My new friend, Hadvar, kept teasing me on true Nord's feast, which the city-bred rarely if not never experience. I must admit I develop a taste for the wild after spending days outside the clustered buildings of Imperial University, away from the sterile environment and musk scented library behind the safe walls of Imperial City. Though not much remain from the once glorious city.
My benefactors were happy to see both Hadvar and I ravaged their offering. Hadvar's niece looked at both of us with hopeful expectation, there was a certain glimmer in her eyes. She wanted to listen to our tales of dragon again. She had, in fact, listened to our fright driven story with so much attention. Seeing such innocent bravery, who would not feel ashamed for wetting their tresses? On second thought, Hadvar did not wear any. Why those Imperial soldiers would display their lower part is beyond me.
With remaining light from the candle, I tried to recollect the chain of events that led me to this basement. It was thrilling and frightening at the same time. Bandit raids or monster infestation paled in comparison when dragons are involved. Hadvar shifted on his makeshift bed of straw and fur, having no need to cover himself with more game bounty, and looked at me as I was writing this entry. Although most of my belongings were caught in the fire, I managed to salvage my journal. That much I thank every Divines.
Waking up on a carriage, I was greeted by a hardy face of a Nord soldier. Clad in hortense blue tabard and chain mail. His face was covered in dust and there were slight dried blood by his right lips, proof of previous fight before he too was knocked down. He looked at me curiously and when he realized his fellow prisoner was up, he greeted me in a most affectionate manner as if he was my own blood brother. He was not, but strangely enough he did. I looked around, though my sight was still blurred. In a short time I realized my arm was bound tight.
As a mage, I could have used fire spells and be rid of the rope. But alas, arrows would nest themselves onto my back should I dare to escape the host. I would never risk it. The Nord across me introduced himself as Ralof of Riverwood. His wheat blonde hair were oily, the same could be said of his visage. He looked extremely tired…and the disturbing part was…accepting expression on his face. From his face alone I knew what was going to happen.
The other two prisoners with us were a horse thief, caught at the same time as me back in Blackwater. Unfortunate victim thrown together along the rebel. He got a dark eye and dried blood under his nostril, obviously from an unjust beating despite his nature being a thief. The other one had a regal atmosphere about him. Despite being bound and gagged he sat straight and put on prideful expression. The regal Nord looked at me in return as he realized I have been staring at him.
"Watch your tongue, horse thief. You are speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak. Skyrim's one true High King!" Ralof reprimanded the dark eyed man for talking indecently towards the ebony coated man. The rebel king, or so the news said. I had heard rumors of it back in Bruma but never had I imagined of meeting the leader of rebellion himself. What fate had thrown at me, I had no slightest idea. Our chattering might have annoyed the Imperial soldier steering our carriage as he screamed at us to keep quiet. My new Nord friend disregarded him.
The host reached for a small village surrounded by walls. I was overwhelmed by mixture of Skyrim architecture and Imperial fortress. Ralof was commenting on Thalmor plot and an Imperial general called Tullius, which I paid no attention. Politics was never included in me interest list. To our horror, there was a headsman ready by the execution block. I devised plans and plans to escape the situation at hand. Fire spells first perhaps, or lightning to stun the enemy. After all I had learnt chain lightning spell. Or illusion spells… making the headsman went berserk with his two handed axe.
That's when the horse thief escaped the host. In a few seconds, arrows struck his back and he died instantly. Politics. I wished those kings hungry of power would kill themselves to death instead involving their people in their game of thrones. Gritting my teeth, I marched behind Ralof towards the headsman block. An Imperial soldier had tried to buy my freedom, saying that I was not involved with the rebellion. The woman captain was intent on sending my head flying, or rather intent in licking General Tullius' boots.
I remember the kind officer was riding his horse behind our carriage before. The man marched towards the headsman block. First head went flying…or rather thumped into a wooden box prepared beneath the block. The proud Nord accepted his fate and died in honor.
"Next, the nord in rags!"
Muttering curses of my fate, I walked slowly towards the block where the headsman was eager to see me off to Sovngarde or wherever Nord heaven is said to be. Not that I was eager enough to see the realm. The kind officer looked at me with apologetic eyes, obviously for failing to save my life in the least. The boot licking captain, on the other hand, kicked me in the back of my knee and shoved my head onto the block.
My sight filled with the humongous body of the headsman and the guard tower behind it. As the axe was lifted I saw a sight…a sight that would be impossible for current era. A black wyrm was flying amongst the cloud. I heard the soldiers were screaming as the black dragon approached Helgen, and landed right on the guard tower. It shouted…yes, shouted incorrigible words. The sky went dark, clouds forming swirling maelstorm-pattern like in the sky. From beyond the cloud descended rains of fire.
"Come on, Gods won't give us another chance!"
Ralof's scream woke me up from my astonishment. I quickly stood up a d ran towards him, hitting few loose rocks and stumbled myself against confused soldiers. The Stormcloak soldier caught me by the arm and dragged me towards another guard tower. I took a last look behind me before the door was abruptly closed. It…the black monster burned a whole platoon mercilessly and a hunk of fiery rock falling off the sky smashed the headman's masked head.
"Legends don't burn down villages" a baritone voice spoke amongst the confusion within the dark tower. It was the voice of Ulfric Stormcloak. He had indeed charismatic feature about him. He then ordered Ralof and me to escape. We climbed the stone ladder when we saw a fellow Stormcloak clearing the rubble by the topmost stair…when suddenly the wall was breached. The dragon's jaw opened and it spit fiery breath on the unfortunate soldier. Ralof and I were fortunate enough not to be caught in the fire. More like the Nord dragged me down the stair to cover ourselves.
After a few jumps and encouragement from Ralof, I met the kind Imperial officer again as I ran out a burning house. The dragon was in front of us, busy searing a man alive, his death wail pierced my eardrums. The man called Hadvar escorted me as we ran through burning houses towards the main force of Imperial soldiers. Just as we passed a stone house, a shadow flew above us. The Imperial soldier told me to stick by the wall. As I did as he bid, clawed wings grabbed the stone wall right beside me. A few inches off it might have pierced a grand hole through my heart. The brown maned Nord stood beside me, plastering his back against the stone wall. It was obvious he was trying to keep his fear subdued. Despite that, he extended his sword arm in front of me, making a barrier between our space and possibly death space beyond his arm.
I looked up from where we were hiding. Above us was the ruthless black dragon, clad in ebony scale and skin that is stronger than any iron or steel. As if it's natural armor was made of ebony ingot and where the armor was not protecting the flesh under it, steel plate mail would. Every part of the dragon is lethal. Sharp claw, spiked tail, and even fire breathing jaw. It was a whole superior creature compared to other mortals. It had flexibility, speed, strength, and aptitude in magic stronger than any creature on Tamriel, moreover it could fly the heavens. The most striking feature was the orb…they held malicious and vengeful aura. If dragons could kill by gazing their opponent, they would die of fear. I was tempted to touch the razor sharp claws, but the cost…it might have cost us our hiding spot and worse, our life.
The moment felt like an eternity. Once again the monster spew out magma breath to an Imperial soldier by the houses. We ran as fast as we could once the gigantic lizard took off into the heavens. By the town square we greeted General Tullius who was busy managing the host. Archers shot their arrow into the heavens hoping to land a hit into the dragon's flesh. Mages threw fire balls towards the dragon which it repelled easily. It was a lost cause. He quickly gave command for us to take refuge inside the hold. As we approached the large building, we crossed path with Ralof.
The two exchanged harsh words which I paid no attention. My mind was elsewhere. It was on the black overgrown lizard. It spun gracefully midair before swooping towards stone wall where the archers lined up with their bows ready. It took an Imperial soldier in its…leg? Paw? Clawed feet? Took him airborne and threw the frightened soldier towards hard ground. I could hear the sound of bone crunch as the soldier hit the ground. I looked no longer, only hoping death came swift for the brave man.
When I returned my attention to Ralof and Hadvar, both looked at me. Each told me to follow them. To follow one is to abandon the others. I had no time to ponder on who was the best to follow as I heard the dragon pierced through the air for another swoop. I ran towards Hadvar and he opened the keep's wooden double door, shoved me inside without giving me a chance for a last look of the brotherly Nord.
I was grateful enough that the Imperial soldier tried to safe my life before, but more than ever when he escorted me with his life through the burning city when he could have ran by himself to safety. Though I must wonder what had become of the brotherly Nord I abandoned in front of the keep. Hadvar unsheathed his dagger and unbound me. Stretching my arms and made sure no permanent damage was done, I observed Hadvar as he trotted about the room looking for weapon and the keep's key.
"You might want to equip those armor" he suggested as he handed me a sword, offering me the hilt of the sword whilst holding the blade carefully. But I had to refuse the armor , as it was extremely heavy and not made for mages. Hadvar shrugged, "I remember a mage prisoner down in Torture Chamber. We might be able to fetch his robe for you. I prefer him alive, though" His mirth expression expressed his disgust of unnecessary torture.
He continued, "I hope your sword arm is strong"
"Have no worry, I am trained enough. I am also capable of casting Destruction spells and lesser Restorative spells" I replied. Hadvar's face brightened for the first time of the day.
"Then we have no fear of killing ourselves"
"Unless I ran out of magick…" I stopped myself mid-sentence realizing the kind officer meant it as a joke. If he intended to brighten the atmosphere, I daresay he did it well, as I felt secure for the first time since I entered Skyrim border days ago. Despite the constant tremor and scream outside the keep. A dragon's roar and sounds of explosions reminded us for being in a war zone.
We passed through the keep towards the basement level, with a couple of Stormcloak interferences. Thank the divines Ralof weren't among those we killed. Hadvar kept his stance at melee range as I cast my Destruction spells. The Stormcloaks stood no change against my spells and Hadvar's expert swordsmanship. Although sometimes his swings resembled those of wood cutters. His sword arm struck true and cut the Stormcloak soldiers clean. Their heads rolled about the floor when my fire spells did not char them alive.
"Well, it's been a while since last I encounter a decent mage" Hadvar commented as he reached for a barrel, inspecting the content. He took out a Health potion from within, and another glimmering blue Magicka potion on the other hand. He tossed the magicka potion to me, which I drunk gratuitously. He also grabbed a leather bag and stuffed some more potion bottle in it, and few bread and fruits. "We might need them on the road" he said as he pointed at a cupboard behind me, gesturing for me to do the same.
Ignoring the dead bodies scattered throughout the store room, I reached for another leather bag and stuffed whatever I could probably use in the flight ahead of us. Bread, dried meat, and few more potions tucked inside my bag before we decided to stop looting. Even we didn't , we would have been stopped by sounds of clashing steel coming from deeper underground. We found a fight broke inside the fore-mentioned torture room.
With help arrived, the Imperial soldier managed to kill the rebels quickly. Hadvar conversed with the inquisitor and his disciple, pleading for them to run from Helgen. The older man refused to do so, whilst the younger one was eager to follow. I looked at one of the cages. There was a dead mage inside it. Looking at me in rags, the old inquisitor mocked , "You can have his things if you can open it, though I lost the key ages ago. Poor mage screaming for days" he cackled gayly. His disciple was disgusted enough that he decided to leave the premise.
Hadvar handed me few lock picks, which I used to open the lock almost immediately. The lock was not a difficult one, therefore even someone untrained as me could have opened it easily. The old man probably hoped to see my grand failure.
"Sure, take all my things, please" said the old inquisitor as I managed to pick the cage's lock. The dead man inside would not need any of his belonging. I took his mage robes and Spark spellbook with me. I preferred robes over armor, although the size of the robe clearly did not match my own. I had to live with it. Better than running around in rags. I silently curse to whoever robbed me off my belonging would die miserably. In the end we left the old man and descended into tight corridor beneath the prisons.
More Stormcloaks, whispered the brown maned Imperial soldier as we approached an opening. Younger inquisitor was too eager to get out that he became training dummy in instant. Arrows planted inside his flesh through his thick armor without any chance of fighting. Hadvar sighed as he charged into the opening. First Stormcloak he traded sword with was dead in seconds, as did the second. On the other side of the opening was two archers whom I charred into ashes. Spotting oily stone floor beneath them, I threw my fire ball towards it and created a grand fiery hell on Nirn.
More tremor and explosion above ground led to cave ins. Creating a point of no return behind us as boulders shut in possible escape for the rest of the host. Hadvar shook his head and led me through a subterranean cavern. Underground river flowed there and it was our cue to the exit. We followed the watery trail towards another cave in. The other tight road led us straight into a spider's nest. If they were your domestic tiny spiders then it would have been a quick work. Yet the spiders was humongous and was twice as big as a Nord adult.
Before the furred eight leg creature could spit out their infernal cobweb and turn us into their dinner, I waved my spell arm and created a wall of fire between us. Hadvar would have to contend to the invading spider as my magicka was completely drained. After a gruesome fight, we managed to kill every spider attacking us. Hadvar cursed the spiders as we followed the cavern and reunited with the subterranean river.
We saw the light leading outside, yet the last obstacle between life and death was a sleeping bear. Other creature I would glad to face, but not the bears as they were fierce some warriors in their own way. Hadvar suggested for me to sneak my way towards the exit which I happily obeyed as the both of us saw no sense in fighting a bear. Unfortunately for us, I stepped on a dried branch. The crunching voice was enough to wake the black furred bear.
Obviously enraged for being disturbed in it's sleep, the bear extended its clawed paw towards me. Hadvar quickly grabbed me and evaded the bear's attack. The claw shredded the Imperial armor like it was merely made of paper. I was not sure how we managed to kill the bear. All I could remember was Hadvar struck a sword through its' neck just before it could shred him into pieces. Hadvar claimed I passed out from the impact and I apparently was lucky enough to wake up just before the Imperial soldier finished the furry creature off.
Light. Our eyes narrowed before we could adjust them to bright environment. Being in the dark for long made us welcome the warm light gratuitously.
Sun hung high in the heavens, telling us not even a day had passed since the black dragon swooped down on Helgen. Before we could celebrate our escape,we heard a familiar roar in the heavens. Hiding behind rocks and bushes, we observed the dragon skirting around the mountainous area before it was bored and flew away. After we emerged from our hiding spot, we descended the hill before we reached a sight familiar to the Imperial soldier. The scenery was amazing for me, a visitor to the province.
Endless tundra somewhere beyond snowy mountain, emerald pine forest surrounding crystal clear lake to the 'west' of the snowy mountain across the river. On the white jagged peaks themselves was Bleak Falls Barrow, a Nord ruin that produced most of Hadvar's childhood nightmare although in his adult year his dreams were of bandits and Stormcloaks instead of living dead, and by the river nearby was a small village called Riverwood, his hometown … blots of inks and incorrigible words
