It was cold but they must press on though the blizzard. Lesson learnt, never go to winterhold again. Shit weather, bigoted nords and worst of all no money. After wasting lots of time and supplies the Khajit caravan was now heading to windhelm to see if there was money to be made there.
From his perch on the loaded wagon, sitting on their dwindling chest of coin, Va Skar watched for threats to their rugged little caravan. He held a hunting bow in his left hand and a quiver flooded with steel arrows on a sack of leather next to him. He would occasionally let his eyes wonder to Kysha, the boss's, Grosa, daughter who he thought was quite pretty. Olsko, a old Cyrodiil born Khajit and fellow, gave him a disproving shove and whispered "boss'l go mad if you do although you may have a chance.". Va Skar smiled to himself.
"oi, lad over there. Fucking thalmor." said Olsko pointing to the group of elves emerging from the snow covered pines. They were lead by a justicar backed up by three soldiers all armed with bows and maces.
"ahh Khajit, we are need of supplies, hand over some healing potions." smiled the justicar, talking in his grand voice. His mean approached pushing baggage handler searching for potions.
"I hope you have coin to pay for that, because you'll get nothing for free" stated Grosa strding forwards. "200 septims for 10 potions." he gestured for Va Skar and Olsko to stand.
" I hoping you'd assist your betters for free." drawled the Justicar while his men serched for the potions.
"listen here, you dumb fool you want something pay for it" Grosa shouted angrily at the justicar and wrenched his hand away from searching though a sack. The justicar stepped back and huffed.
"I think I need to teach this mangy animal some manners. Don't you?" snarled the justicar. Suddenly his hand was wrapped in flames and pressed against the Khajits face. The smell of burnt fur and flesh sent the horses wild. Both Va Skar and Olsko loosed arrows at the mage but were quickly knocked out by the maces of the soldeirs while the other Khajit were captured or killed.
"hey you. Hay cat wake up!" snow. Trees. Grey rocks. Skyrim. Cold. "you sounded like you were having a bad dream." His wrists were tied, the ropes biting though is his. He looked for the voice. It had come from a tall, well built Nord man with braided long hair. They were in a cart with two other men, one dressed in bulky fur and the other in rags but both in binds. The man in furs was gagged crudely with a filthy cloth but he had a steely look in his eyes.
"Thanks" he rasped out. "What's going on". He couldn't remember anything. "arr, fuck, mus thave been drugged." he could feel some kind of lump had formed on his forehead about the size of a pint glass. The Nord with braids was gazing at the path ahead, seeming lost to the world.
"Oi, mate what's going on." he asked again turning to the man in rags, who was shivering in the wind as he as clothed in next to nothing.
"you don't remember?" at a look of complete bewilderment he continued " we were caught at a imperial ambush by the border, me and those fucking Strom Clocks. They got me caught." he said jerking his head to the man next to him.
"you insult the storm clocks in front of the man" the blonde man whispered. He previously glazed over eyes were now a smouldering brown, like a dodgy Elsweyr curry. "that is Ulfric Stromclock himself. And you were picked up from the thalmor to be chopped for being of no value" he finish calmly but glared at the ragged man.
"but if that's Ulfric, then were are they taking us" the thief murmured in disbelief. "the block must await us, Talos save me."
"what's your name cat." asked the braided Nord. "I'm Radolf."
"Va Skar is my name, he would shake your hand but," replied the Khajit. "so the heads man awaits" the man gave a solemn nod. The Khajit started fidgeting with the wrists. "good thing I got claws then."
"Can you undo the binds?" Asked the braided Nord excitement evident in his voice. He was now struggling to sit up in his binds. The thief was also watching with hope streaming from him.
"stop moving and go back to your milk kitty." shouted the imperial driver. The man cursed under his breath and flicked the rains drawing a snort from the horses. They were trotting down a long fissure though the snow covered Nordic mountains.
"these fuckers are tighter than a orcrest virgin" muttered the cat-man struggling with the binds. The "fuckers" were clamping onto his wrist the more he struggled and his frozen hands weren't helping matters. "I can skin rabbits with these but not this" he said to himself. "oh, god juicy rabbit he hadn't eaten in days." As he tried and tried to slice though the binds all he could think of was the axe blood, cold and merciless.
" hay, khajit, not to rush you but I see buildings and lots of soldiers." Radolf said his voice urgent. They were approaching a town or village by the looks of things with large grey walls and a big tower from which archers watched the convoy approach.
There was a quick ripping sound from the khajit's back as he managed to get some of the binding to slice in half. It was to late though, soldiers on horse back were now following the cart, an escort from the base. "fuck, lot of good that did."
"unlucky Khajit." Radolf almost laughed but couldn't seem to manage it. "horse thief, what village are you from." he then asked solemnly to the ragged man.
"why do you care.". The criminal replied with childish spite. He still hadn't forgiven the stromclocks for getting him caught.
"A nord last thoughts should be of home" Radolf said in a foreboding tone as he glared at the imperials around. They had now entered the town and were receiving stares all the towns people as the carts trundled over the icy cobbles. "this is Helgan" he cast his eyes up and down the towns people checking for familiar faces only to receive pity or glares and a rotten tomato. "I use be smitten with a girl here. I wonder is ylar is still making that mead with juniper berry mixed in." he said gazing a tavern with longing.
A small boy watched the carts as they began to slow in the town square only to be sent inside by his mother who watched the proceedings with fearful eyes.
"why is it stopping" the thief asked as the cart skidded to a halt in the muddy snow. He was looking every where and had the eyes of a snared rabbit. He was missing a finger from frostbite and a grime covered his thin face.
"end of the line" grunted Radolf as the imperials yanked them down. Just as the imperial grabbed him Va Ska managed to shake of the bindings but what good was that now. He managed to knock the imperial flying as he was pulled down and steal and iron dagger though.
"Don't do anything rash" he muttered into Radolf voice as he got into the line as the list was being readied. He sliced the binds in half, slightly nicking the nord's hands in the process.
The nord patted him a thanks and muttered "bit late". After that he was bullied into walking off to the block as his name was called. Only the thief and Khajit now remained in the line waiting for their names to be called. The thief had tears steaming from his eyes and was preying to every god in existence.
"Lokir of Rorikstead" shouted the bookman.
"no you won't take me" shouted the thief and he took off running. All eyes were on him including those of many archers.
"thank you thief" thought Va Skar. He could now make a escape as everyone was focused on the running man. He ran in the opposite direction and scrambled over a wall, his claws working first time this time. As the he leapt over the wall into a haystack he felt a sting in his leg as a arrow burst though. He land with a whoosh In the hey stack and quickly covered himself. He heard running voices and loud feet as his once captors rushed around looking from him. Gritting his teeth he ripped the arrow from his leg and began weaving his magika into a healing. He bit tongue to keep from crying out.
"leave it, he was only some Khajit that got the wrong side of the Thalmor any way" came the stuck up voice on General Tullius, high on a steed by the sound of it. Footsteps slowly faded over the headman's block and Va Skar slowly let his leg repair itself with help from his Magika. He faintly heard Tullius making a speech to the stromclocks before they went to the block and flinched when he heard the thud of the headmans block. That could have been him his fast beating heart told him. He was very lucky to be alive first the Thalmor now this.
The next bit was where it all got a bit mad. The next bit is the bit with the dragon.