Disclaimer: I own original characters only, Skyrim and LOK belong to their rightful owners.
The first chapter is always the hardest, but it's finally complete. I originally posted an incomplete copy so I could get an idea of how my writing style went over.
Now it's finally done, and I can hopefully get this story going.
One thing to get straight, if you're here for LOK action, you're going to have to wait, this is just the beginning. It will come, but it'll be awhile before we get there.
So... lets do this.
Book 1: Tamriel
Chapter 1: The Return Part 1: Old Endings, New Beginnings
Long ago, the world was forged in the fires of creation, and mortals and spirits would walk the earth together in an unstable harmony.
Until ten thousand years ago, when the balance between order and chaos was broken.
Little to no record remains of what exactly happened, but when all was said and done, spirits receded from the physical world, mortals of all kinds and creeds spread over the entire world in the spirits absence, and access between the two worlds was severed by two people who would later vow to guard the balance between order and chaos, between light and darkness.
These people would later be known as the Avatar and the Dragonborn. Empowered by the gods themselves, both of them were gifted with the ability to bend the elements of the world around them, as well as use the Voice of Dragons, and when they died, a new guardian would be born with the same power.
In later eras, when the Dragonborn would leave with the Atmorans to settle the lands of Tamriel, leaving the Avatar to watch over the Four Nations of Akavir.
It is now the 201st year of the Fourth Era, and Tamriel is drowning in the blood of it's people, war is on the horizon once again, and one question comes to mind for those who know of the guardians.
"Where is the new Dragonborn?"
15th of Last Seed 4E 201
Bruma, Cyrodiil
As the sun set, the wind howled, carrying with it freshly powered snow that had been sprinkled over the city early in the day. While the rest of the province would be experiencing the closing days of summer, Bruma's closeness to the Jerrall Mountains caused snowfall year-round.
The citizens closed up their shops for the day, leaving for either home or the Tavern.
One of these people was a young Nord running through the crowd to his family's home near the east gate. He was no older then seventeen, just a bit taller then normal for his age, shoulder length dark blonde hair, his eyes a gray blue dully shining through the falling powder.
Finally reaching the door of his home, he gently opened the door, hoping to silently slip in and avoid gathering attention. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his family, he just wanted to be alone after the argument he and his parents had over his future.
But this wasn't the case.
"Johann?" a middle-aged female voice asked as he shut the door.
Johann looked to find both his parents waiting for him in the entry hall of their home.
His mother, Anna, was the court-mage, a member of the court under the Count and Countess of Bruma. Dressed in a set of Master's Robes, she sat in a chair next to a table by the stairway, as her husband stood by her side.
Leland, his father, was the Captain of the city guard. Dressed in a set of Steel armor, with a Steel sword sheathed at his hip, he had little hair left, compensated by a thick beard. Standing by his wife, his face expressionless, his own blue eyes locked on his second son.
"Yes, mama?" Johann asked in kind.
"Your father and I have been talking about what you said yesterday..." she began.
"I wouldn't really join the Legion!" he began, thinking back to the argument the day before "I just think it's time to see the world, find my own place in it!"
Yesterday, Johann had tried to convince his parents he was ready to leave home and have his own life, while his parents both argued that the world was too dangerous for him, that he needed more training. After half an hour of yelling, Johann left the house, yelling that he would join the Imperial Legion if that's what it took to leave Bruma. After that, neither side spoke to each other until this moment.
"We know that," his father added in, speaking for the first time, "and that's not what this is about, this is about a compromise."
"A compromise?"
"Yes," his mother said, "we talked about it with some members of the court at the castle, and after hearing some opinions, we've changed our minds."
Johann's eye's widened and a smile grew across his face. "Really?!"
"Yes," his father began, "we all have to start at some point, and now's about as good a time as any. But we allow this on three conditions."
"One, we want you to go back to Whiterun first, see if you'd like to live in our true home once more," his mother said.
Johann nodded at this agreeing. His family originally came from Whiterun, living in Skyrim for generations, only leaving to support Anna's aging parents in Bruma. They left behind many friends when they left the province, including several high ranking members of the court, namely Jarl Balgruuf the Greater.
"Two," his mother continued, dragging him out of his thoughts, "we don't want you getting involved in the rebellion, so stay out of Eastmarch and Haafingar, or we'll come and drag you back here."
"And lastly," his father added, "we want you to keep your gifts a secret as much as possible."
A perplexed look grew on Johann's face.
"Why spend years training me if you just want me to hide it? I could help people," Johann asked, confounded.
"The world is a dangerous place," his mother began, "it's not that we don't want you to help people, that's the reason we trained you in the first place, we just want you to be careful."
"Many people are waiting for someone with your abilities to appear," his father continued, "but not all of them will welcome you with open arms, there will be many who will want you gone, and sometimes..."
"An enemy can wear the same face as a friend," Johann finished for his father, completing the axiom his parents had taught both their sons since the day they could walk.
Since the day he could wield a weapon, both Johann's parents trained him and his brother in the arts of the warrior, the mage, and the craftsman. This practice was upheld among multiple branches of the family; his cousins in Cheydinhal trained to become Vigilants of Stendarr, like their mother, their aunt, and their grandmother before them.
But what was kept secret from outside the family, was that Johann was given additional training to master several abilities. Rare abilities that would be of interest to multiple factions in Tamriel; and while Johann understood how to fight with this power, he was far from being called a master... which was likely more then could be said for most people in Tamriel.
"Your not telling me everything," Johann declared, "why are you sending me to Skyrim?"
Johann's parents looked to one another, before nodding their heads at each other and turning their attention back to their son.
"We've taught you all we can," his mother said, "if you're going to become the man you want to be, the man the world needs, you have to find your own path in this world."
"For thousands of years, Skyrim has been not only the homeland of our people," his father continued, "but also a proving ground for some of the greatest heroes in Tamriel."
"But the other provinces have plenty of danger, just look at Cyrodiil," Johann suggested, "I know it's our homeland, but why send me to Skyrim, yet tell me to stay out of the Civil War? It makes no sense."
"You should be thankful we're allowing you to go in the first place," his father said, matter-of-factly, before shaking his head lightly, "do you want to know the truth, the full truth?"
"Yes," Johann said, lightly disgusted that his parents felt they still had to keep secrets from him, especially when they affected his future.
"There's been word among travelers from the North," his mother said, "they say Skyrim is falling apart; bandits harassing cities and farms, warlocks kidnapping people for dark experiments, they even say the dead are rising from the grave to protect their burial sites, it's complete chaos."
They all took a moment to let Johann fully grasp the news, the shock becoming evident as his eyes widened at the thought of Skyrim at the mercy of outlaws and the dead.
"The soldiers are too busy with the war to deal with any of this, the guards can barely defend their own cities, much less go hunting for criminals," his father explained, "if something isn't done, it will all fall to pieces, do you understand?"
Johann closed his eyes, comprehending what his parents had silently asked of him, before finally responding.
"I understand, when do I leave?"
17th of Last Seed 4E 201
Cyrodiil/Skyrim Border, Jerall mountains
Two Days later
After a night and day walking into the mountains, Johann arrived at the gate marking the border, expecting to see Imperial border guards... only to find the post deserted.
The gate bridged the gap between two small mountains, giving way to a large forest with snow all over the road everywhere.
Crossing the threshold into Skyrim, he looked around for any sign of life at all, man or beast, listening for any indication of either presence.
After a day of packing valuables and belongings, as well as saying goodbye to his brother and grandparents, Johann set off from Bruma in the early hours of the morning, hoping to be in Whiterun by nightfall.
In his pack, he carried another set of clothes, a set of nine amulets, one to each of the Divines, and a small supply of potions meant for restoring strength, health, and magicka. His mother gave him five hundred gold to use for necessities, and his father gave him a carved Nordic broadsword for self-defense.
Johann rested his hand on the pommel of his blade as he tried to pick out any sound of life in any direction. It was as if all life in the area had simply vanished, chased away by some unseen force.
Johann kept walking down the road thinking of all that was waiting for him in Whiterun... his birthplace, his true home. He thought of the friends he and his brother left behind, like the Grey-Mane and Battle-Born children, or Farkas and Vilkas in the Companions, all of them were adolescents when the Storm-Rider family left Whiterun, and-
His thoughts were interrupted when something ran out of the trees and bushes to his right and nearly knocked him off his feet before running off.
Coming to his senses, Johann reached for his sword, before he saw that what nearly hit him was a redheaded man dressed in hold guard armor with blue markings. Another two men came out of the brush, running after the first, both of them were blond, another dressed like a guard, the third dressed in what looked like a dark-colored version of a Noble's fur cloak over a chainmail vest.
Thinking they were in trouble, and hoping to get answers, Johann followed them as they all started running toward the northeast, before disappearing around a bend in the road. As Johann rounded the trees that blocked his line of sight, finally seeing his quarry once more... and they were not alone.
The men he'd been following were surrounded by Imperial soldiers, all with their weapons out and ready to gut someone at a moments notice. Outside the circle of soldiers, an Imperial sat atop a horse, dressed in more ornate and polished armor then normal, glaring down at the trapped nobleman.
"Ulfric Stormcloak," the horseman declared loudly, "by the authority of Emperor Titus Mede II, I place you under arrest on charges of murder, betrayal, and rebellion against the Empire."
Ulfric's men were about draw their weapons, until Ulfric signaled them to stand down, and they reluctantly followed the order.
As the Imperials moved to subdue the men, one of the looked down the road and spotted Johann watching the whole thing.
"There's another one!" the soldier shouted, alerting his comrades.
"Capture him!" the leader shouted from his horse, raising his sword in Johann's direction.
Johann turned around to run, only to find more Imperial soldiers coming the road the way he came, likely chasing Ulfric and forcing him into the trap.
Looking back and forth at the Imperials coming at him in both directions, Johann's thoughts ran at a thousand miles a minute, trying to think of a way out of this. These men were out for blood, they wouldn't listen to reason, and if he tried to fight with only his sword, they would overpower him.
This left him with only one option.
He dropped into a stance; both hands flat, right arm out in front of him, left arm pulled back to guard his chest. Ready to intercept the first soldier that came into range.
When the first soldier tried to bring his sword down on Johann's shoulder... he only cut through thin air, as Johann had ducked out of the way and to the left. Then he grabbed hold of a of a halberd that another had tried to cleave him with, and followed up by pulling the weapon out of the Imperial's hands, and then using the weapon's handle to knock the first man off his feet and onto the ground.
The second man was still wondering how his lost his weapon to a child when he was accosted by the shoulders, turned around, and kicked by said child, into a third soldier who was attempting to run at Johann and bash him with his shield.
Less then a second after, the fourth man tried to put Johann in a headlock, before the young Nord elbowed the Imperial in the abdomen, before ducking behind his assailant to take cover from the last soldier in the squad, an archer.
"Damn it," the archer said to himself quietly, bow pulled back and ready to launch, he yelled out, "get away from him! I need a clear shot!"
Before the soldier could move, two arms wrapped around his still aching torso, and Johann grunted as he picked the man up off his feet... and began to run right at the archer while using the man as a human shield. The archer then dropped his bow and was going for his dagger when the weight of of a soldier in full armor collided with him, sending them both tumbling off the road.
With all the soldiers disabled in one way or another, Johann turned his attention to the Imperials guarding their leader and prisoners. They'd all stood by and watched as one young Nord completely decimated a squad of their comrades, their jaws had hit the floor. Their leader, however, recovered quickly, bared his teeth in anger, and was about to order a charge... when a hand touched his shoulder and gathered his attention.
The hand belonged to a High Elf woman dressed in black robes with gold embroidery, she shook her head, knowing what he was going to do.
"Allow us," she said to the officer, before turning to her soldiers, all dressed in light-gold colored armor decorated with eagle motif.
"Take him! Do not let him escape!"
The High Elf soldiers charged past their Imperial "comrades," expecting to surprise the foolish human, but instead the human wasn't even paying attention to them.
Johann had both his arms raised before him, slowly raising them as he concentrated in his mind. The Elven warriors stopped their charge halfway between him and the Imperials, forming a defensive line.
No one expected what came next.
Stamping his feet into the ground, Johann released a blast of rock and snow, tearing up the road in front of him, effectively creating a landslide uphill at his opponents.
The Elves had the worst of it, being closer to the origin point, their thinly plated armor barely protecting them from the onslaught of rocks. All of them were thrown backwards upon collision, most of them had their armor dented, and a few unlucky ones hit in the head or upper torso fell to the ground bleeding.
The Imperials and their prisoners fared much better, due to both distance, and the fact that most of the heavier projectiles hit the Elves. Several men moved forward and raised their shields, protecting themselves and their comrades from the incoming rubble. With the shield wall raised, they weathered the storm of rock-filled snow, and when it was over, drew their swords to prepare for battle.
Only to find Johann had disappeared, the field was empty save for groaning and bleeding Elven troops.
Contorting his face in anger, the leading officer began barking orders as the elves tended to their wounded.
"He's gone into the forests!" he yelled out, "spread out! Find him!"
As the Imperials carried out his orders, a token force stayed behind to guard their captives, who had spent the entire time trying to comprehend what they'd just seen.
At least, that was the case for the Jarl's guards.
"Jarl Ulfric," the blond-haired guard began, "what was that? Some kind of mage?"
Ulfric watched the ordeal with initial surprise, which later turned to satisfaction as he watched the young man defeat the Elves.
"That was no magic, Ralof," Ulfric addressed his guard, "that was an earthbender."
As soon as the rocks launched, Johann used the attack as a distraction and ran into the snowed covered forest as fast as he could, thinking about his current problem.
He'd effectively declared himself an enemy of the Empire by resisting arrest, and demonstrating his abilities was another thing altogether. Once those soldiers reported in, he'd likely have a bounty on his head making him a criminal in the Empire and whatever territories they still held in Skyrim.
That only left the regions outside their control, like the areas united under the Stormcloak's banner. He wasn't about to leave his homeland, especially if his family came looking for him, so that him with a few options. Like heading to Windhelm or Ri-
Johann's line of thought was cut short as he slammed into something hard and cold, before falling back into the snow.
Standing up and regaining his composure, he saw he'd run right into a cliff wall, too distracted by his thoughts to see where he was going. He also noticed that he'd run into a sort of box canyon, only one way in or out, unless you knew how to climb rock walls.
He was about to walk out when he heard something that made his blood run cold.
"There he is!" a somewhat high-toned voice yelled.
Out from behind some trees, two more elves appeared with swords drawn, both had their armor dented in several places from Johann's rock blast, and both were advancing on him quickly.
Johann stepped back into the little canyon as the elves cut off his escape, ready to draw his sword or possibly earthbend again.
"You're going to pay for what you've done," the first elf said as he cornered the young nord.
"What did you have in mind, Nazarean?" the second elf asked, speaking to his cohort.
"I say give him a taste of real power before we hand him over to the Emissary," the first, now known as Nazarean said.
The second soldier nodded and stepped back, while Nazarean sheathed his sword and dropped into a stance.
He then pulled water from the snow in the ground and began to pull it through the air with his hands and arms. Both kept their eyes on the floating glob of water, and while the elf was impressed with himself, Johann was not.
"You humans think you're the only ones who've learned a few tricks over the centuries?" Nazarean said spitefully to Johann, who only scowled at him, "let me show you what real skill looks like!"
With that, he threw the water like an arrow at Johann, waiting for it to hit so he could encase the young man in ice.
Only this never happened.
Johann intercepted the water in mid-air, pulled it around, and threw it back at the elf's torso.
Nazarean's face turned from sadistic glee, to surprise, and finally shock as the water knocked him off his feet and back into the snow.
As he tried to get up, he saw Johann in another stance, with his left arm forward and his right arm cocked back as if he were going to throw a punch.
Johann inhaled through his nose...
…and brought his right fist forward, unleashing a stream of fire against the Elven waterbender.
When it was over, the snow around the elf had melted, and Nazarean was screaming in pain, his exposed skin heavily burnt, and his armor partially melted. To finish him off, Johann brought his foot up and then slammed it down, bringing rock pillar up right where the elf lay, sending flying into the air and falling to a quick death shortly after.
The other elf, after overcoming his shock, looked to his friend's killer, drew his sword and charged at him.
Johann threw an open palm at him, this time releasing not fire, but a concentrated blast of air, sending the elf back a few feet, but still standing. He threw another blast. And another. And another.
Finally, the elf lost his footing, and was sent hurtling back into a tree, where his already damaged helmet finally shattered, and he lost consciousness.
Catching his breath, Johann dropped his stance, letting what had just happened sink in. He had killed one person, and knocked out another. He felt a bit sick.
SNKKK!
The sound of metal vs metal dragged him out of his stupor.
Looking over to the unconscious elf, he saw another man dressed like the prisoners from earlier, driving a battleaxe into the elf's spine. While he pulled the weapon out of the corpse, two others like him, came out of the trees and walked toward Johann, who was too shell-shocked to raise his defenses.
"Are you alright?" one of them, a woman, asked.
Johann simply nodded.
"Come with us," she said, offering her hand, "it's not safe here, we have a camp nearby."
He took her hand, and she and her comrades led him out of the box canyon and further into the forest.
Falkreath Stormcloak Camp
The soldiers led Johann to a camp situated on a small hill over looking the road, occupied with more of their comrades.
They led Johann to a small fire pit surrounded by several tents just outside a much larger tent.
"Wait here," said the man who killed the unconscious elf, "the commander will want to speak to you."
As they walked off to the large tent, Johann sat down at the fire, alone with his thoughts.
After about five minutes of staring into the fire and feeling it's warmth, he didn't even notice the soldier's return with their commander.
"What troubles you, boy?" a deep voice rumbled.
Johann looked up to see a man dressed in leather armor, with metal reinforcements on his guantlets and boots. It was also decorated with a bear pelt hanging over his shoulders, with the bear's head used as a sort of helmet. The man himself had moderately tanned skin, eyes blue as ice, and a graying beard tied off with a small band.
"I just killed someone for the first time," Johann said, very minor sadness coloring his tone.
The commander put had on Johann's shoulder and looked into his eyes.
"Only a monster kills without feeling," he said, "but you can't let those feelings get in the way of your life, besides they were Thalmor, they didn't deserve to live in the first place."
Johann accepted this, nodding to show his understanding to the commander.
"My name is Galmar Stone-Fist," the commander said next, "what about you boy?"
"I am Johann Storm-Rider."
Galmar's face showed minor surprise for a second, before a smile grew in its place. He offered Johann a hand, who accepted it and was pulled to his feet.
"Storm-Rider, eh? Been some time since I heard that name," Galmar said, "I think I met a quiet old bastard named Leland Storm-Rider a few decades ago in Whiterun, any relation?"
"My father," Johann confirmed.
"Haven't seen any of your family in Skyrim for ten years," Galmar continued, "what brings you here now?"
"Both my parents allowed me to leave home," Johann explained, "after a little arguing, they understood that it was time to leave home, to find my own way in this world... as you can tell, I haven't had the best start so far."
"That's what you call getting caught up in an ambush and defeating squads of both Imperial and Thalmor troops? Heh, I'd love to see what you call horrible," Galmar said, "come with me, I have some questions, and I bet you do too."
Galmar led Johann to the large tent, inside was a table with a map of Skyrim and a small dresser off to the side.
"What do you know about the ambush you walked into?" Galmar asked.
"One moment, I'm walking along thinking about Whiterun," Johann answered, "the next, three men appear from nowhere and nearly knock me to the ground. Two of them were wearing chain mail armor with blue decoration, and the third had a heavy cloak with an armored vest beneath it. I followed them, wondering what had three warriors running like that, and then they were surrounded further down the road."
"And he was captured, perfect," Galmar finished, sarcastically.
"'He?'" Johann asked, confused.
"Wait," Galmar said, brow furrowed in equal confusion, "you seriously don't know who those men were guarding? The man in the vest was Ulfric Stormcloak! Jarl of Eastmarch and leader of the rebellion against the Empire!"
That made Johann widen his eyes. Everyone knew about the rebellion, but few people truly knew much about the man leading it. What was known was that Ulfric was a former member of the Imperial Legion who fought in the great war thirty years ago, after the war he led the assault against the captured city of Markarth, and he became the Jarl of Eastmarch not long after that.
Beyond that, stories began to differ from each other as facts became biased opinions. Stormcloak sympathizers say Ulfric defeated High King Toryyg in an honorable duel in the old ways, while Imperial loyalists claim Ulfric murdered the King in cold blood.
"How in Oblivion did the leader of a Rebellion end up in a trap?" Johann asked in confusion.
"Ulfric was on his way to Ivarstead, heading through Darkwater crossing, he wanted to speak to the Greybeards for some reason."
"He didn't tell anyone why?"
"He didn't even tell me, and I'm his Housecarl." Galmar said, pointing to himself, "anyway, the Imperials were waiting for him, somehow they knew he would be there. When the trap was sprung, Ulfric sent a runner back to Windhelm to inform me, and I rallied as many men I could find to rescue him."
"So, what's your plan now?"
"I've got scouts following the caravan carrying Ulfric and the rest of his guard, when they return, we're going after them."
Johann was shocked, "when you say 'we,' you mean you and your men, don't you?"
Now Galmar was confused, "you mean you don't want to help?"
"Look, I wanted to leave home so I could find my way in the world, I didn't want to be a part of this war. This isn't my fight."
"You're a son of Skyrim, this is your fight as well," Galmar claimed. "Stand with us, and we can secure the future of our people!"
"I don't know who I stand with!" Johann yelled back, before continuing calmly, "not the Stormcloaks, and not the Imperials, I just wanted to return home."
Before either of them could continue the debate, a man dressed in Stormcloak armor rushed into the tent.
"Sir!" the men said as he raised his fist over his chest, specifically his heart, in salute, "the caravan isn't going to the border like we thought, it's actually headed to Helgen, a town and military outpost to the west of here."
Galmar returned the scout's salute before replying, "good work, soldier, go get yourself a hot meal."
The scout nodded and left the tent, and Galmar planted a small red flag on the map occupying the table.
"Shouldn't they be taking him to Cyrodiil?" Johann asked, confused, "why head for head for a small village instead?"
"It's not important, all that matters is getting Ulfric and his men out of Imperial hands," Galmar said as he pulled a battleaxe off his back, inspected the blade's edge, and replaced it, "look, my men won't stop you if you wish to leave, but if you want to help, it would be appreciated."
"Wait," Johann said as Galmar made for the tent's exit, "I'll make you a deal; I'll cause a distraction and you get your men out of there."
"What's the catch?" Galmar asked.
"Don't harm any Imperial soldiers."
"Why in the name of Shor not?!"
"Because they're just Soldiers following orders, just like your men out there," Johann said, as he waved his arm at the soldiers seen outside, "they have friends and families waiting for them at home, and I refuse to be the reason they come home in a coffin."
"Why do you care anyway," Galmar said as he crossed his arms over his chest, "you said this wasn't your fight."
"Doesn't mean I want my homeland drowning in anymore blood then it is already," Johann explained, "and that's the path it will follow if Ulfric dies today. Now do you want help or not?"
Galmar stroked his beard, clearly weighing the options in his head, before turning back to Johann with a slight grin on his face.
Helgen, Falkreath hold
Johann walked down the hill, following the road west into the wall that protected the small village and fort.
The gates had just closed as he came in sight of the city, the carriages carrying Stormcloak prisoners and their guards passing through seconds before. As he walked up to the gate, an Imperial archer from on top of the gate noticed him.
"Halt! State your business here!" the archer shouted, ready to reach for his bow. This man was part of the fort garrison, so he wasn't there when Johann defended himself against the Imperials earlier.
"I'm just looking for supplies, maybe a place to sleep," Johann lied, hoping the guard would just let him in.
His hopes were only answered half-way.
"Sorry, this fort is locked down," the guard said, believing the lie, "orders from General Tullius, no one goes in or out until he says so. If you head south-west, you can be in Falkreath in about an hour."
Johann nodded and watched as the guard continued his rounds, turning his attention to the courtyard beyond the gate. Johann made a run around the walls and toward the fort.
Finding a spot far enough away from patrolling archers, Johann used airbending to spin himself up and over the wall, before coming down not next a house not far from the northern gate. Not hearing any sounds of alarm, he assumed he made it in undetected, and made his way across the road into an alley between a fort wall and couple buildings, taking care to watch for patrols.
At the end of the alley, he could see the prisoners disembarking the carriages parked in front of a house near two stone watch towers. Imperial troops were all over the place, guarding the courtyard between the towers and the fort wall, while a man dressed in a headsman's outfit, followed by a women in the robes of a priestess walked into the yard.
There were also a few High Elf troops scattered around, including the same woman who sicced the troops on him back at the road. Standing guard at the southern tower was a couple of Wood Elf archers in front of the tower dressed in some kind of red-colored leather armor with black cloth in various places, as well as a matching hood over their helmets.
As Johann made his way over the road again, this time taking cover near the inn, he could hear the Imperials begin to order the prisoners around.
"Step forwards toward the block when we call your name," an woman dressed in heavy Imperial armor commanded, "one at a time!"
A Nord with light brown hair stood next to her and began reading names off a list he held in his hands.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
Ulfric, hands bound and mouth gagged, stepped forward toward the crowd of Stormcloaks between the carts and the headsman's block.
"Ralof of Riverwood."
A blond-haired man stepped forward into the crowd, the same man who was guarding Ulfric when they passed him by on the road earlier.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
Another Nord, this one dressed in a roughspun tunic and pants, his dark brown hair matted and unwashed, stepped towards the soldiers and began panicking.
"No, I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!," he declared, before running past them and up the road.
"Halt!" the armored woman shouted at the prisoner.
"You're not gonna kill me!" Lokir shouted back as he ran past the Wood Elf archers.
When the woman called for the archers to shoot him down, Johann readied his stance. Right as they were about to fire, Johann raised a small rock, tripping up Lokir and causing the archers to miss their target. The elves then ran over to their quarry, bows at the ready, they found themselves flying into the fort wall, knocking them out stone cold, as Johann ran over to Lokir when the Imperials turned their attention to the headsman's block.
"Who are you? Did the Divines hear my plea?" Lokir asked as Johann helped him to his feet.
"Uh... sure let's go with that," Johann replied, "go hide behind the inn, when the fighting starts, try to get out of here."
Lokir seemed confused by the statement, but nodded and ran off behind the inn.
As Johann started walking toward the towers, he heard some kind of roar echo in the distance, and it didn't sound like any animal he could think of, and the sheer volume implied the beast was massive. He could see the imprisoned Stormcloaks look off into the distance for the source of the noise, and began hearing discussion as he walked to the execution.
"What was that?" asked the Nord soldier who was holding list earlier.
"It's nothing, carry on," asked the same officer from the ambush, the one who arrested Ulfric.
"Yes, General Tullius," the armored woman said to the officer, now known as General Tullius, "give them their last rites."
Before the priestess could begin, Johann came around the tower and began his attack.
First he earthbended the headsman's block into headsman, and then he raised several stones from the ground, before sending them at the soldier between him and Tullius. When the armored Imperial moved to attack him, Johann threw a rock the size of his torso at her, sending her flying back to the ground in front of the prisoners.
Before it could go any farther, Johann ran at the General, pulling and throwing more rocks out of the ground to attack soldiers who tried to intercept him. When he reached Tullius, Johann threw a rock in his gut, winding him long enough for Johann to unsheathe his sword, get around behind him, and put the officer in a headlock with his left arm.
"Nobody move or the General dies!" Johann shouted at the top of his lungs, brandishing his Nordic sword with his free arm.
While the Imperials began to get up from the assault, the gate behind the prisoners exploded inward, allowing a group of Stormcloaks led by Galmar to enter the courtyard and surround the Imperials. The prisoners were elated, none more then Ulfric himself, despite his gag, you could clearly see him smile.
"Why would you do this? We were about to end the way!" Tullius asked, still restrained and now furious.
Johann sighed, "to give this war another chance to end in peace."
Everyone heard what he said, and looked at the young Nord as if he'd grown a second head.
This didn't last long, as another roar was heard echoing around the mountains, this time much closer.
"What is that sound?" Ralof asked as one of his brothers-in-arms cut his bonds loose.
"Stay focused," Galmar said as he personally cut Ulfrics bonds and gag, "we don't have much time, get these dogs tied up and then get ready to run."
Then yet another roar was heard, this time right on top of them.
Johann looked to the north, and his eyes almost popped out of his head. Flying at them was a giant black beast with read eyes, with two large wings flapping powerfully, a pair of legs between them and it's tail. Every inch of the beast was covered in black scales that gleamed in the sunlight overhead.
Thinking back to the stories about beasts he'd read, Johann could only think of one beast that matched the one coming at them.
A dragon.
"What in Talos name is that?!" Galmar shouted in surprise.
"It's in the clouds!" a soldier shouted.
"Dragon!" another added.
The Dragon landed atop the tower, shaking the ground around them, before opening it's massive maw and roaring. As it did this, a storm gathered over head, thunder began to sound, lightning began to crack.
In the commotion, Johann let go the general and stood in front of the Stormcloaks. When the beast opened it's maw, this time unleashing some kind of wave of energy, not unlike a concentrated blast of air, directly at him. He tried to raise a rock wall to shield him from the blast, but it broke through and sent Johann flying back.
Johann flew into a carriage and his world went black.
Thanks for reading, hope you come back for later chapters.