At first there was nothing. Then she felt everything.

The pounding in her head. Her parched swollen tongue. The sensation of moving, and bumping her head over and over on a hard, rough surface. She could tell she was lying down, and she felt tightness around her wrists. My hands must be bound she thought, in a confused haze. As she lay on her side, she became aware of a snorting, breathy sound, and a creaking all around her. She tried to open her eyes, but was forced to squint at the sudden flood of light to her unaccustomed pupils. Squinting blearily, she waited for her world to stop shifting. She thought she saw the outlines of some people through the blur, and as everything came into focus, she slowly became aware of where she was. She seemed to be lying on the bench of a wooden cart being drawn by a powerful chestnut horse. The panting beast was being driven by a broad shouldered, muscular man with his face turned away. He seemed to be wearing armor of some kind, made of dark leather and faded metal. He also wore a helmet that blocked his profile completely from view, making any kind of personal impression impossible. She focused her attention on the man directly behind the driver. He was bound like her, and looking off in the distance, so he did not notice her scrutiny. He had blonde hair that reached his shoulders in thin whips, and a single braid that swayed with the movement of the cart, occasionally tapping him in the face. Unlike the driver, he wore a sort of chain mail, under a quilted fabric, and a blue covering of a finer cloth. She supposed it may have been vibrant at some point in its life, but now it was covered in a layer of grime and filth like the rest of him. His hair was greasy, and his face covered in dirt, but it did not completely cover up the fact that this man was fairly handsome.

Her thoughts were detoured when her body shivered from the cold of their surroundings, and she turned her thoughts to herself. How did she get here? Why was she bound? Who were these men? The harder she thought, the more she realized she could not remember anything from before she came to consciousness in the cart. She wasn't even sure what her name was, or what she looked like. She tried to raise herself into a seated position to get as much of a look at herself as she could, but only managed to prop herself up on one arm. The effort made her head swim, and the pounding grew exponentially. She could see over the edge of the cart now, and saw that the likely culprit of the pressing cold was the thick, swirling fog all around them. Now she saw another horse drawn cart a ways ahead of them, filled with people. She couldn't see them clearly through the mist, but it looked like they might have been bound too. There also seemed to be men walking behind their cart, dressed in the same leather armor as the driver. Suddenly she realized her movement must have attracted the attention of the man in blue, because he was staring at her intently. When he saw her looking at him, he lightly nodded at her in greeting.

"Hey. Looks like you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?" He asked, as the cart rounds a bend, causing the back of her head to smack against the edge of the cart. Her eyes water in pain and for a moment, the pounding drowning out everything else. But the moment passes, and it settled back into its previously distracting beat.

"Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us. Same as that thief over there." He jerked his chin behind her, and she carefully adjusted herself to see. There were two others occupying their dingy cart that she had previously not seen. One was dressed similarly to the blonde man across from her, but his features looked older, and more haggard, and his hair was thicker, wavy, and a more russet color. What's more, he was gagged, and his eyes seemed to stare at nothing. Diagonally from herself was a man in rags, similar to what she appeared to be wearing, who looked at the men in blue with purer loathing. His cropped, dark hair and tiny, wide-set eyes made his face, twisted into a snarl, all the more prominently hideous.

"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along!" he growled at the blonde man. "Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He turned to the girl, his glare softening. "You there. You and me, we shouldn't be her. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." The blond man, the Stormcloak, snorts, arresting the attention of the thief, "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Before the man in rags could respond, the driver called back in a nasal voice, "Shut up back there!" The thief rolled his eyes and looked to the gagged man. "What's with him, huh?" he asked, his tone sounding more resigned. "Watch your tongue!" the Stormcloak barked, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, true High King!" The thief was visibly shocked. He looked back and forth between the two Stormcloaks, "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! They captured you?!" The panic in his voice began to rise and he began to tremble. "Where are they taking us?!" The man beside him looked away, his face solemn. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." The thief began to shake uncontrollably and stared at his hands. "No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!" The Stormcloak sighed and returned his gaze to the terrified man. "What village are you from, horse-thief?" He asked, in an obvious attempt to soothe him. "Why do you care?" the horse thief shoots back, his anger not quite covering the fear in his voice. The Stormcloak's gaze grew impossibly sadder, "A nord's last thoughts should be of home."

So, in an attempt to force myself to be more creative, but without interfering with my gaming habits too much (Might have a wee bit of an addiction), I'm documenting one of my Skyrim runs. Plus, this is going to force me to play along stricter lines, instead of just doing quests for all the deities, guilds, and people I come across. This means no, or as little as possible fast travel, I have to eat three meals a day, and sleeping enough to stay alive (because, lets be honest, who actually takes the time to sleep when you could be pilfering for the thief's guild). Plus, all of this will give my character and run a little more depth. Let me know what you think of it, and any thoughts on my future storyline. I'm thinking of joining the war, since I've never done that, but I'm unsure of the side. Or if I should work for any specific deity. I'm working this out as I go along, and I'm hoping to write a page a day, and upload in 1000 word increments. Hope you stay to see how this lays out! :)