This is a fanfiction inspired by "The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim" by Bethesda and "A True Nord" by JacksDirtySecret . This was written with JacksDirtySecrets permission, support and collaboration. Both "A True Nord" and The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim" are property of their respective creators and writers. I hope you enjoy Comjuls story.
Comjul Achrin is a nord. At just fifteen, he stood at about 5'8" or about a meter and a half tall. He has sky-blue eyes and black hair that he kept short. He stood on the porch of his family's home as wagons rolled into Helgen.
Catching sight of High Elves, he didn't know what the prisoners had done nor did he honestly care. He was sure it wasn't that bad though. Probably the worst offence any of them had committed was Talos worship.
He headed inside and to the table for some cheese and bread. A commotion outside reminded him that there was still an execution going on.
Wait. Did he smell something burning? Was that burning meat mixed in? He dropped the food and went back outside. The town was now chaos, with fires burning all around.
"Comjul!" A female voice called out. He looked, it was his mother. "Back inside, now!" She called.
He was almost in when a wall fell on the house. He spun to look back at his mother only to see her engulfed in flames. He screamed for her as she fell. He ran for her but his father grabbed him and pulled him aside. "I love her too son but there's nothing you can do!' His father said as the dragon roared again. "Now come on!"
With that, the pair ran across the street to the next set of houses. Comjul didn't know what was happening. Had the war found them? Was this some sort of stormcloak trick, or weapon? Both sides seemed to be taking heavy casualties from this attack, whatever was going on.
They made their way through a destroyed building and looked at the gate. "Home stretch Comjul, I'll go first." His father ran for the gate but was snatched up in a streak of blackness from above. Comjul froze. He would die. His parents were... by the gods his mother. He began to break down, when he heard a man yell at him.
"This way boy, if you want to live!" The voice said. He looked to see a rather well dressed man waving.
He followed as the man worked through what was once the inn, then went into the basement where a few Stormcloaks were. "What we gonna do Jarl Ulfric?" A man asked.
" Patience. It is the key to any victory." Ulfric replied. "Get this boy geared up. It's not going to be easy getting out of here."
They handed Comjul a war axe, a helmet and some gauntlets. Beyond this, he was on his own. The helmet fit loose and only got in his line of sight, the gauntlets fit very loosely and he swung the axe a few times only to be met with one man irritably blocking his blow so he didn't over swing and end up with it planted in either himself or the men behind him.
He quit and looked around. Men were talking. The man who blocked his blow scolding him for being so careless with a blade. Other bits Comjul heard were fragmented.
"...miracle if he makes it out a live with sk-..."
"...sloppy, what sort of a Nord doesn't know how to use an axe?"
After a few minutes, Ulfric called for attention. "I know it's bad but the Empire is probably ready with reinforcements. We need to leave if that dragon is all we want to worry about." He drew his axe and took point. Comjul was herded between the men as they made their way between the destroyed buildings and towards a gate. There were six men in their party.
Most of the stormcloaks did their best to protect the boy. There were Imperials everywhere, or so it seemed to Comjul.
He wondered if this is what battle was like. Just pure chaos?
One of the men to his left yelped and hit the ground an arrow sticking out of his chest. The man on his right was next. He had taken his eyes off the man he was sparring with and paid the price. A female Stormcloak with a bow made short work of the enemy archer. Ulfric had spun around and yelled "FUS RO DAH!" The swordsman in front of them went flying back.
The group continued moving towards the gate. Some imperials had garrisoned themselves on the wall. One of the men switched over from an axe to a bow and sent a flurry of arrows their way.
"On my mark! Run for the gate! Ready?" Ulfric yelled. "GO!"
The group ran. Once Comjul was outside the gate, he took a hard right and followed along the wall until he couldn't see the imperials anymore. He then found a bush and hid in it.
It had taken them twenty minutes to get through the former city of Helgen.
Once outside, Comjul finds a bush to hide in.
"Come here boy." A familiar voice said. Ulfric stood there with a surprisingly gentle look on his face. "Let's go find your family." He said holding out a hand.
"I have no Ma or Da..." Camjul said, his voice trailing off.
"I understand." Ulfric said with a nod. "Any family in Skyrim?"
Camjul shook his head.
"Come then. I'll be your family." The Jarl sighed.
"But I don't look like you." Camjul protested, still shaken.
"Then consider me an uncle." Ulfric said. With that, Camjul accepted Ulfrics outstretched hand.
***FIVE YEARS LATER***
"Wake up! I said wake up maggot!" A mans voice rang out.
"Ssssir?!" Was Comjuls sleepy response.
"The empire is attacking! This is not a drill! On your feet now!" The man yelled.
Comjul hurried to get his armor on and rose up to his full height of 6'5" or around two meters tall. He then charged outside.
Stormcloaks were running about. He nearly made it to the gates, when they seemed to explode open. He almost immediately heard someone scream. "Fall back!"
The whole army retreated in practiced order, taking up defensive positions. Comjuls group was to hold the Stone Quarter against the invading forces. He himself was by the blacksmith shop. The imperials slammed into his ranks. In the distance he heard a thundering sound and men cry out.
They stood in orderly rows until an arrow found its way into Jarvn. After that, the swordsmen hit. He blocked a blow with his shield and swung his sword sideways in a sweeping right to left arc at his opponent. The man parried with his greatsword. That was the opening he needed. Comjul slammed his shield into the mans neck between his helmet and chest collapsed immediately.
The next Imperial was armed with an axe and guarded by a shield. Comjul was the first to strike this time. His newest opponent blocked it with his shield, then struck back. Comjul blocked the slash easily when he heard a yell. He glanced over to see that Balen was down. Donin was still going strong but was surrounded. Comjul had two other men moving in on him. It was time to go.
He turned and ran through the forge to the next blockade. He arrived too late. The imperials were already shooting arrows at the men. Comjul just kept running, even through Valunstrad only slowing to glance at his fallen Stormcloak brothers.
The rest of his trek to the Palace of the Kings was uneventful despite his growing nervousness as he passed more bodies.
He had barely opened the door when he saw Jarl Ulfric on the floor with two high ranking imperials and a man in black armor looming over him.
If Comjul wanted to live he'd have to run. And run he did. He didn't stop for the imperial swordsmen who tried to stand in his way. Or even the archer that put an arrow in his arm. Comjul didn't stop running, not even when he was out of the city. Comjul ran