Chapter 1: Helgen
It was all black. He heard the sound of hooves clopping against the stone and ice.
He opened his eyes slowly, and he found some Nords. One was in blue rags, another was in a wolf skin cloak, and another was in some rough-spun tunic. So was he. "Ugh…My head…" The only elf in the carriage complained, breaking the silence.
The Nord in blue rags spoke up "You crossed the border into a battle, same as us, and that thief over there." He said in a calm tone.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Everything was fine before you came along. Empire was nice and lazy," He looked at the blue ragged Nord. "If it weren't for you, I could have stolen that horse and have been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He looked down at his feet again.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." He looked at the leather cuffs binding his hands.
"What's his problem, huh?" He spoke to the gray cloaked man.
"Watch your tongue! You speak to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" The Nord in chain link armor was close to bursting from anger.
He watched the argument silently. The Nords' idea of afterlife will come up soon. He thought. The Headsman's axe awaits us. All of us.
A few hours later, they arrived at a small town. He learned the three Nords' names. Lokir, Ralof and Ulfric. They stepped from the carriage and walked up to the captain of the Imperial Guard. "Ralof of Riverwood. Lokir of Rorikstead…" The soldier droned on.
"No, I'm not a rebel, you can't do this!" He ran.
"Archers!" The Captain barked, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Anyone else feel like running?" She looked at Aerich.