Chapter 1: Unbound
It was the teeth-rattling bumping that woke Cedric up. When he opened his eyes, he found himself propped up in the back of a wagon, with ropes digging painfully into his wrists. Looking around, Cedric saw three other men in the cart with him, each bound in the same fashion. Nords, two blonde, one dark. One was clad in clothes similar to his own, another in what looked to be some light armor, and the last in a noble's finery. For some reason, that one was also gagged.
"Hey, you." Said the warrior. "You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right?" without waiting for an answer, he continued. "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
The brown haired man glared at him. "Damn you Stormcloaks." He growled. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He turned to Cedric. "You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
The soldier sighed. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
The voice of their driver cracked like a whip. "Shut up back there!"
After a moment's hesitation, the brown haired man gestured at the noble. "And what's wrong with him, huh?"
The soldier bristled. "Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" asked the dark man, astonished.
Cedric's ears pricked up. Windhelm! The word Mother had repeated over and over again, as she lay dying. "Where is Windhelm?" he asked, struggling to stem the tide of painful memories that threatened to flood from the dark recesses of his mind.
The soldier glanced at Ulfric, the jarl, then back at Cedric. "North and east." He answered. "Why do you want to know?"
"It was the last word my mother ever said." Cedric said quietly.
The soldier's eyes softened. "What's your name, boy?" he asked.
"Cedric."
"Ralof. I'd wish you good fortune in your journey, but Sovngarde awaits us."
Cedric set his jaw stubbornly. "Not yet. First, I need to find my father in whatever winesink he's hiding in and beat him bloody."
Ralof smiled. "I wish I had your spirit, boy. But look around. It's the end of the line."
XXXXXX
The Legionnaire with the list was staring at Cedric with the usual look of bewilderment that men and mer gave whenever they first met him. Trying to decide whether I'm a Nord or a Breton. The confusion was understandable. His height and eyes were from his Nord father, but his dark brown hair and the barely perceptible points to his ears were unmistakably Breton. Further adding to the confusion was that he was not quite as heavily built as most Nords, but nor was he as slim as most Bretons.
The Legionnaire looked uncomfortable. "Where are you from, prisoner?" he asked, not unkindly.
"It doesn't matter." Cedric grumbled sullenly. "Leave my corpse for the crows. I want some good to come out of my death. May as well give the birds a meal."
The legionnaire turned to his commander. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."
"Forget the list!" snapped the Captain. "He goes to the block."
The legionnaire's jaw clenched. "He's just a boy, ma'am." He protested.
The captain glared at her subordinate, then jabbed a finger at Cedric. "To. The. Block."
As he followed the captain, Cedric began contemplating whether or not he could take a few of the bastards down with him. Living with an orc in the house had made him a competent fighter, but he was unarmed, and wouldn't be able to wield any weapons while his hands were bound in any case. He did know a few spells, and he might be able to melt some faces off before he was cut down, or sprouted feathers like the man who'd tried to run. They were going to kill him anyway. He may as well die fighting. Cedric took a deep breath. He focused, and summoned a tiny ball of flame to his hand. He was about to loose it, when a strange sound filled the air, faintly rebounding across the towers of the town.
The man with the list started. "What was that?"
The Imperial general dismissed the sound. "It's nothing. Carry on."
"Yes, General Tullius." Acknowledged the captain. Turning to a nearby priest, she ordered "Give them their last rites."
There was a lot of shouting as the first soldier was executed. Cedric ignored it. He instead focused on the tiny black dot on the horizon. A bird? No. He shouldn't have been able to see it from that far.
"The mongrel in rags!"
There was that sound. Gods be damned, what was it?
The list holder noticed as well. "There it is again. Did you hear that?"
The captain remained unfazed. "I said, next prisoner!"
The young legionnaire looked pained. "To the block, prisoner." He ordered. "Nice and easy."
Cedric started, and glanced once more at the Imperial soldiers all around him. Their faces were stone. All thoughts of going down fighting had vanished. Fuck me bloody. I'm about to die. He realized. He sighed, and walked over to the chopping block. The thing was still covered in the blood of the last man to lie upon it. Instinctively, he recoiled, but the headsman behind him shoved him down. He felt cold mud beneath his knees, contrasting sharply with the still-warm blood that was staining his clothes. Cedric stretched out his neck, to be sure the headsman would strike true. One quick cut. The last sound he would hear would be the blade slicing through his neck…
When the sound came again, there was no mistaking it. With a crash that sent Cedric sprawling in the mud, the dragon slammed down atop the tower, its claws digging into stone like knives in soft cheese. Everyone started screaming. The beast opened its great jaws and spoke in an alien tongue, its voice as deep and strong as Nirn itself. Fire rained from the sky, and Cedric stared, dumbstruck. A dragon. Gods above, a dragon!
"Hey, boy!" bellowed Ralof. "Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"
Cedric didn't move. He stared at the black horror perched atop the tower, watching as a group of soldiers launched a volley of arrows at the beast. The steel tips bounced harmlessly off the creature's armored hide, and the dragon spoke yet again, and the men shrieked as they were consumed in flame. Cedric could feel the heat from fifty feet away. Smell the hair and flesh and leather burning, and hear the crackle of their corpses as they smoldered. That got him moving. Death by headsman's axe was one thing, but being burned alive was quite another. He sprinted after Ralof, legs pumping so furiously that he overtook the Nord and nearly collided with the man holding the door open to the nearby tower. Cedric leaned over to catch his breath as Ralof burst into the tower, and the man at the door slammed it shut behind him. Cedric looked around, to see a wounded soldier being tended by a companion, and the now un-gagged Ulfric Stormcloak.
Ralof turned to him. "Jarl Ulfric! What was that thing? Could the legends be true?"
"No, clearly it was all myth." Cedric said sarcastically between gasps. "What do you think?"
The Jarl looked over at him coldly, then turned to Ralof. "Legends don't burn down villages. We need to move. Now!"
Ralof clapped Cedric on the arm. "Up through the tower, let's go!" he urged.
He started up the stairs, and the soldier who'd held the door ran up past him. Cedric followed, until he noticed that the way was blocked by stone. "What about all this ru-" he began, but his words were cut off by a thunderous crash and a scream as the soldier was sent flying by the exploding wall, revealing the head of the dragon. This time Cedric could make out words when it spoke.
"Yol…Toor…Shul!" the beast bellowed, and a jet of flame erupted from its maw, sending Cedric staggering back. When the torrent of death subsided, the creature withdrew, taking back to the skies.
From beside him, Ralof pointed through the newly made hole at a nearby building. "See the inn on the other side?" He asked. Cedric nodded. "Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow when we can!"
Steeling himself, Cedric took several steps back, then ran forward, leaping down to the inn below. The jolt of impact as he hit the floor sent him to his knees, but he was up in a flash, running forward to drop through a hole in the floor and out a nearby doorway.
The shadow of the dragon passed overhead, and Cedric saw the legionnaire from before trying to get a small boy to safety. "Torolf!" he roared, as a nearby man was consumed in fire. "Gods…" he gasped, before bellowing "Everyone get back!" Then he noticed Cedric. "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way." He turned to another man. "Gunnar, take care of the boy." He commanded. "I have to find General Tullius and join their defense."
"Gods guide you, Hadvar." Gunnar said.
Hadvar nodded in acknowledgment, then took off toward the keep.
Cedric followed, and as they moved between two buildings, Hadvar yelled "Stay close to the wall!"
Not a moment too soon, for as the words left his mouth, the black beast alighted on the building to the left, letting forth another torrent of flame before flying off again.
"That was close!" Hadvar exclaimed, as they took off again, weaving through the shattered timbers of what had once been a house.
They ran past a bunch of Imperial soldiers, firing arrows and obscenities at the dragon with equal fervor. Cedric heard the Imperial general yell at Hadvar they were leaving, before running off with his men.
Hadvar turned to Cedric. "It's you and me, prisoner. Stay close!" He looked back toward the keep. That was when he saw Cedric's acquaintance from the wagon. "Ralof, you damned traitor!" he spat. "Out of my way!"
"We're escaping, Hadvar." Said Ralof. You're not stopping us this time."
"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Hadvar snarled.
Ralof looked over at Cedric. "You, come on, into the keep!" he said, and without waiting for an answer, he took off.
"With me, prisoner, let's go!" said Hadvar, starting towards another entrance.
Cedric had only an instant to decide what to do. A well-armed, well-equipped Legionnaire, or a hide wrapped rebel? He made his choice.
When Hadvar and Cedric entered the keep, both dropped to the floor in relief. "Are you alright, boy?" asked Hadvar.
Cedric nodded, breathing heavily, and listening to the rapid Thud-Thud-Thud! of his heartbeat. "I'm good. You?"
"I'm in one piece. That's all I can say." Hadvar reached for his sword, caused Cedric to reflexively ready a Flames spell. Hadvar froze. "Easy there! I'm just going to cut your bonds."
Sheepishly, Cedric extinguished the Flames and held out his hands. "Sorry about that."
The Imperial blade cut right through the bindings. "It's alright. You have good instincts, though. The Legion could use a soldier like you." Hadvar glanced at the door. "It looks like we're the only ones who made it." He got to his feet. "We need to get moving. There's some gear over there that you could use."
Cedric made his way over to the chest that Hadvar had indicated. Inside was standard issue Imperial light armor and boots, good, tough leather, with a bit of chainmail underneath. The sword, however, was far less impressive. He held it up with a grimace. "Cheap iron." He pronounced. "I suppose I could kill a goat with this, if the goat didn't fight back."
"Sorry. All the good stuff was outside with the soldiers. Hey, is there a key anywhere in that thing?"
Cedric pulled the armor over his head, then glanced at the inside of the chest. "Yeah. Right here." He grabbed the key, and went to search the other chests, finding a light helmet and a bit of gold. He heard the clinking of metal, and glanced over to see Hadvar pulling a chain on the wall. Gears ground into motion, and the gate that filled the door opened.
"Let's go." Said Hadvar, starting down the hall. They came to another gate, and Hadvar was about to open it, when voices rang out from the other side. Instinctively, Cedric dashed over to Hadvar and took cover behind the wall.
"We need to get moving!" said a gruff male voice. "That dragon is tearing up the whole keep!"
"Just… give me a minute to catch my breath." The second speaker was a woman.
"Stormcloaks." Hadvar whispered. "Maybe we can reason with them."
Before Cedric could tell him what a stupid idea that was, Hadvar had activated the mechanism to open the gate and was walking into open view. Cedric followed, loosening his sword in its scabbard. "Kinsmen," Hadvar called, raising his hands in a placating gesture, "listen, we don't want to fight-"
"Death to the Empire!" shouted the man, unslinging the war-hammer on his back, while the woman unclipped a cruelly spiked iron mace from her belt.
Hadvar had just enough time to draw his sword and raise his shield before the hammer slammed into it, sending the Imperial Legionnaire staggering back.
That was all Cedric saw of Hadvar's fight before the woman was on him, howling a savage battle cry, and the training he'd received from Vorag gro-Drash took over. The woman swung her mace toward his head, but his blade was there to meet it, batting it aside. The soldier bared her teeth and raised her shield just in time to block Cedric's counter slash. He hammered away at her, using his lack of a shield to shift to a two-handed grip, allowing him to put his full weight into his attack. Chips of wood splintered away as he drove her back, forcing her closer to the wall. She would get desperate soon. "Yield!" he shouted. "I don't want to hurt you!"
"Never, you Imperial dog!" she yelled. "I'm going to rape you like a little bitch!"
Where in Oblivion did that come from? Cedric wondered, briefly ceasing his assault. The soldier seized on his hesitation by attempting to smash his knee. It was a move that Vorag had used on him a few times before, and he responded with his typical counter. Sidestepping, then hacking at Vorag's weapon hand with all his strength, knocking the mace from his grasp. Except this time, his foe wasn't wearing the finest Orcish armor. This time, his foe hadn't stopped herself from overextending in a reckless attack. Instead of clanging against an Orichalcum enclosed wrist, his blade took her between shoulder and elbow, cleaving through flesh and muscle and bone to send the woman's arm flopping to the floor in a gout of blood. The scream that tore from her lips made his heart wrench. A quick slash across the throat quieted her, and ended her pain with a wet gurgle.
Hadvar's foe glanced over at the sound, just long enough to have an Imperial sword slash through his layers of leather and open him from his right shoulder to his left hip. He fell to the ground, something slimy poking from the tear near his belly.
Cedric felt his stomach roil at the sight. Hadvar saw the expression on his face, and walked over to him.
"First time you ever killed a woman?" He asked.
Cedric took a deep breath. "First time I killed anyone."
Hadvar nodded. "You did well."
Cedric tried desperately not to look at the bodies. The woman was sprawled on her back, her face frozen in a mask of anguish. "I feel sick." He confessed.
Hadvar laughed. "That's nothing. My first fight I came out smelling of piss and shit. Speaking of which…"
Cedric took a sniff and wrinkled his nose. "By the Nine!" He exclaimed "You really do shit yourself when you die."
Hadvar nodded. "Aye. Now come on. We need to get moving."
XXXXXX
The sudden glare of sunlight blinded Cedric for a moment as he emerged from the mouth of the cave. "We made it." Hadvar breathed.
A roar ripped through the air. Instinctively, Cedric grabbed Hadvar and dragged him behind a nearby boulder. The pair crouched, unmoving, for several moments, as the winged terror flew by, heading north. Only when the monster had disappeared over the horizon did they emerge from cover.
Cedric let out a sigh of relief. "It's gone. Thank the Nine!"
Hadvar raised an eyebrow at him. "The Nine? You still worship Talos?"
"A slip of the tongue." Cedric said hastily. "Old habits."
"You weren't alive before the Great War." Hadvar noted. "I don't think that will work as an excuse against someone who cares."
"So you're not going to turn me in for treason?" Cedric asked.
Hadvar laughed. "After how many times you saved my life back there? Not a chance."
"So I'm free to go?"
"Yes. But if you need a place to stay, you could come with me to Riverwood. My uncle is blacksmith there."
Cedric considered a moment. "Sure." He agreed.
"Then let's be off. Riverwood isn't too far from here."
XXXXXX
"So how old are you, anyway?" Hadvar asked as they walked.
"Sixteen." Cedric replied, trying to scrape dried blood from the hide shield he'd taken off one of the Stormcloaks.
"Why did you come to Skyrim all alone?"
Cedric didn't respond for a long moment. "To find my father." He said at last, quashing the smell of sickness from his mind.
Hadvar nodded. "What's his name?"
Cedric shrugged. Never once had his mother told him who his father was. Vorag and Tellyn knew, he was sure, but they would never say. Vorag had said nothing on the matter, and Tellyn Manodil, scoundrel that he was, had told Cedric he was a Nord. Like it wasn't obvious. Cedric had never heard anything about his father until, in the last few days of her life, Cedric's mother had started muttering about Windhelm.
"You don't know his name?" Hadvar gave a whistle. "That complicates matters, don't you think? How are you going to find him?"
"I'm pretty sure he's from Windhelm." Cedric said. "My mother kept saying 'Windhelm' when she was… she was dying." Cedric felt a lump forming in his throat. Speaking faster now, he continued "Tellyn and Vorag, this Dunmer and this Orc who my mother was friends with, I know that they know who he is, but they wouldn't tell me! So I left in the middle of the night with everything I could carry, and crossed the border from High Rock a few days later. I got captured by an Imperial patrol, and here I am." The outburst had left Cedric breathless, and for several moments the only sounds between them were his quickened breathing and their footsteps.
Hadvar looked at him thoughtfully. "Sounds like you got some travelling to do. But first-" he pointed, and Cedric spotted a village that looked only a few miles away, "why don't you come to my uncles house and spend the night, eh? Rest up for the journey?"
Cedric gazed at the village in the distance. It promised a hearth and a roof. Warmth and safety. But when Cedric saw it, he couldn't help but remember the dragon… and imagine it all burning.
Author's Note: And there it is! That miserable first quest has been completed! Honestly, it's got to be the most irritating one in the whole game, with how many times I'm sure we've all done it. I'd like to note that I will be doing time skips throughout the quests, mostly the dungeon bits, given how monotonous they are. If you enjoyed the story, or if you didn't, I'd love to hear what you have to say! Also, if anyone has any important lore knowledge for me, feel free to hit me up! I've only really extensively played Skyrim. ESO I have a smattering of, and I only got Oblivion about two weeks ago as of today( three bucks at the thrift-store, total steal). Mostly I'd be looking for stuff on Bretons, High Rock, and Orsinium, but any wisdom is greatly appreciated!
I hope you all enjoyed,
HybridsRule792
