I hear horse hooves beating the ground and the slight creak of a damaged wagon. Others around me seem silent, but an occasional prayer to Talos breaks the tension. My vision begins to clear and I can see a well-built Nord in front of me, and all I see on his face is sorrow. The deeply frosted forest in the background suggests that I had, finally, made it to Skyrim, but my future does not seem so bright.
"Hey, you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." The Nord had pointed to the man sitting next to him with a simple nod of his head.
"Damn you Stormcloaks." The dirt covered thief snapped back. "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 be halfway to hammerfell." Suddenly he turned his gaze to me, and I still could not find any words. Although, I do have many questions I would like to ask about the current situation. "You there. You and me-we shouldn't be here. It's the Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now thief." The Nord spoke sounding a bit irritated.
"Shut up back there!" said by what I can only assume is an Imperial soldier.
I began to examine the horse thief a bit carefully; he's wearing rags and is full of dirt. His hair dark has a high contrast to the white snow behind him. I can clearly see him trembling, and I assume that this is just a little bad luck for a thief. Who am I to talk though...I came to reunite with some family. Who may or may not still live, I haven't heard from them since they sent me to Cyrodill some time ago.
"What's wrong with him." the thief broke the small moment of silence.
"Watch your tongue," the Nord snapped, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king."
I looked across from the thief, and saw a distraught man with his mouth tied shut. Just staring at the floor of the carriage until the thief spoke, that is.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?" the thief sounded more panicked than before, "You're the leader of the rebellion. But it they've captured you...oh gods, where are they taking us?"
The Nord's expression changed, only slightly, from anger to a deep despair. "I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."
Sovngarde...It's been awhile since I've heard that word, and I can't quite remember what it means. From the Nord's tone I gather we're headed straight to our deaths.
The thief begins to panic, "No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening."
"Hey," the Nord spoke in a calming voice, "what village are you from horse thief?" I think that means the thief is also a fellow Nord, but I've never been to sure about those types of things.
"Why do you care?" he's getting defensive.
With a sort-of calming grimace on his face says, "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
"Rorikstead..."the thief stumbles a bit, "I'm from Rorikstead."
From a distance I can hear a stern, well-trained voice emanating from ahead. "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" It's obviously an Imperial soldier indirectly telling us that it's time to die.
"Good, let's get this done with." the general responds tiredly.
So much for finding my family...I guess. I look off into the distance behind the two men across from me, and all of this looks so foreign to me. The snow, dense forests, and the small animals I see running around. This is so different from the Imperial City in Cyrodill it was warmer there and not much snow. I do feel a bit chilled by the wind brushing against my shoulders, and most would say that makes me the furthest thing from a Nord. Anyway, even if I found my family...they wouldn't remember me anyway. I went away when I was just learning to walk, and I never was able to find out why.
"Shor, Mara, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." the thief pleading to invisible divinities; that most likely abandoned us some time ago.
We approach the gate to some village that seems, to me at least, to be in the middle of nowhere. The crude stone and wood homes stand inside a crumbling stonewall. It stands most likely to keep some of the wolves out. The road is nothing but dirt, and I wished to see the brick roads of the Imperial City. Even the road of any city, but as I look in the town is covered with Imperial flags. This tells me...there is no hope of surviving the axe.
"Look at him," The Nord speaks with contempt, "General Tullius the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves. I bet they had something to do with this."
The Thalmor...we just got out of war with them, but why is this Nord so mad? I've been on the road for some time now, and I tend to stay off the main. I don't get news that easily, but I don't feel this is a good time to ask anyway.
Piercing silence continues, and nothing but the music of the wind makes any noise. I try to smile, and I do succeed, but I look up at the thief. The fear on his face is enough for me to feel frightened. I continue to look around the town; people are gathered to watch all of our untimely demises as if it were sport. I look to Ulfric to try and get a feel for him, but all he does is stare at the splintered wood. In a desperate attempt to get a small hit of hope I look to the Nord, once again. He has a slight smile on his face, and I can tell that he's thinking about something else. I don't know what, but I know, by this smile, that even if death is eminent there is still something to smile about.
"This is Helgen." the Nord spoke again, but in a more reminiscent tone. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." With a slight chuckle he followed that with, "Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."
I look ahead after hearing the Nord's story, and I see that we do not have much time left. The carriages are nearing one of the crumbling stonewalls next to a tower. I listen around me, and I hear children being rushed inside. People whispering about our imminent deaths no doubt, but I don't care about them. I don't even care about my life as it stands right now, but I want to know just what is it I'm dying for. Although, that's what I want, I know I won't get a trial.
I work up the nerve to look behind me and I see that there is another tower in Helgen, this one is smaller, but I can't help but wonder what they need all of this for? Back in the Imperial City the only towers were on the walls, and nothing else. Maybe they can't trust each other...to me that's the only plausible solution.
"Get these prisoners out of the carts. MOVE IT!" some high-ranking officer screaming orders for Talos knows what reason.
"Why are we stopping," the thief spoke as if someone would deny the truth of what is happening.
"Why do you think?" the Nord spoke in defeat, "End of the line... Let's go, shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." The cart came to a complete stop and we all stood up almost simultaneously.
As we leaped off of the cart the thief was muttering about how they had made a mistake, but that won't stop the Imperials. I know this only from experience, because when something is decided...They never take it back.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." I look at the captain yelling, again, and I think she's one of those that HAS to prove their masculinity.
Then, in no time names are called off of their death list.
"Ulfric, Jarl of Windhelm," the Jarl steps toward the block with his head up, and shows only small traces of fear in his eyes.
"It has been an honor to serve with you, Jarl Ulfric." the Nord spoke in a serious tone.
"Ralof, of Riverwood." the Nord stepped forward, and walked to the block with the bravest, earnest face I have seen in my lifetime.
"Lokir, of Rorikstead." this is the thief, but from his attitude I cannot see this going well."
"No, I'm not a rebel." Lokir panics, "You can't do this!" then...he makes a run for the exit.
"Archers!" after the captain yells her orders; the timid Lokir is no more.
"Wait, you there step forward." I comply to the Imperial's demand, "Who, are you?"
I didn't expect them to ask me who I was, and for a moment I remained stunned. Determining what I should say. I looked over at the ever-impatient captain, and feel her glare piercing my soul. I don't mind it, though; she's only in the top 50 of the glares I've gotten.
"I am Tsuni Cast, Nord, of the Imperial City." I spoke proudly and without stammer.
"Such a shame...At least you can die in your homeland," he turns to the captain. "What do we do she's not on the list?"
"She goes to the block."
I go to the standing area before the block, and the headsman stands behind it. My hearing fades to a blur, and I stricken with intense fear. Then, a roar came from the sky, and all were consumed by it. Of course the captain said to continue anyway, and whom I think is General Tullius walks up to Ulfric. Begins taunting him; I pay no attention to it though. I only look to the sky to see birds flying overhead, and while I'm looking up someone walked, willingly, up to the block. I saw his head fly and I flinched a bit. This was nothing new for me because I have fought in the Imperial City's arena. For some odd reason I felt a sadness for one's death that I haven't felt in a long time.
They called me; I comply without a sign of fear in my face. In fact I smiled at the headsman, and thanked him. Said my head was too heavy anyway. I heard a chuckle somewhere, but mainly shouts dominated claiming injustice. I can't say I disagree with them. I'm pushed down with my head almost touching the man's who had gone before me.
"What in Oblivion is that?" I hear a frightened voice exclaim.
Atop the tower I look at, I see a dragon. Shroud in black along with pointed horns, and then it shrieks causing meteors to fall, and caused a mass hysteria. People panicked, the moment I regained my balance I saw Ralof waving me over to the protection of another tower. The dragon flew overhead, and I had no time to debate. I sprinted to Ralof and his fellow Stormcloaks, what I believe they're called. All I could think is...how am I getting out of this one.