Author note: This is a very short chapter, but hopefully they'll get longer as the story progresses. Rated M for safety and later chapters. I will talk about Rumar's past at some point, though I'm not sure when. My first fanfic, please leave a review! Constructive criticism is welcome.
Also, I'm currently looking for beta-readers so please PM me if you're interested!
It was dark. Cold and dark. Rumar never liked those circumstances, and he simply LOATHED them together. But he had no control over that now, bound and blindfolded as he was. Sitting up straighter, he attempted to get a better grasp on his surroundings. He was sure of two things. One, that he was no longer wearing his robes-but a pair of ratty trousers instead. And two, that he was sharing a carriage with three other men. Nord by the smell of them.
I'm half naked, tied up, blindfolded, and in a carriage with three other men...never thought I would be in this position again. Deciding that the blindfold had become bothersome, he began trying to loosen it by rubbing his head on a wooden beam he was resting against. But before much progress could be made, his movements were stilled by a thick voice coming from somewhere in front of him. "Woah there friend, calm down. Let me get that for you." Suddenly the dimly lit inside of a covered carriage came into view along with its inhabitants. Two handsome blondes, and a shady looking brunette. After a few failed attempts at speaking, Rumar finally cleared his throat and said "Thank you...but where are we? And who are you? And why are we the only ones with our hands tied behind us?" He motioned to the proud nord on his right.
"I'm Ralof, this is Lokir" Ralof motioned to the nord sitting to his left, "And this is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim." He finished, nodding to Ulfric who acknowledged them with a bow of his head. "You're bound with your hands behind you for obvious reasons, you're a spellcaster. Jarl Ulfric is gagged, as I'm sure you've noticed, because he is a master of The Voice. These imperial dogs don't want to chance him loosening his gag, so they've tied his hands behind him." At his bewildered expression, Ralof continued. "He controls the Thu'um and can shout his enemies apart." Rumar's eyes widened in astonishment. "As for where we're headed...I'm not sure. But I know one thing, Sovngarde awaits." Sovngarde...the nord afterlife! No! No this can't be! I refuse to die today! Then an idea struck him. If Ralof can get my blindfold off, he should be able to untie me too! Once my hands are free, I can untie the jarl...then I'll take care of Ralof while Ulfric tends to Lokir. Now how we're going to get away is a whole nother problem... A glance between the flaps of the carriage told him it was late at night, he smirked. Perfect. While he had been lost in thought Ralof and Lokir had gotten into an argument, typical stubborn nords. "Both of you shut it!" Rumar hissed "I have an idea..."