Leaves crumpled up, their whines muffled by the boot of a lone Altmer carefully making her way into the vast lands of Skyrim. It was a lot warmer than she expected, but she was still close to Cyrodiil's border. She sat down, taking a deep breath. This was it. She was out of that terrible country filled with hypocritical mer. She stared at the bark of a tree in front of her and drifted off into a daydream. She pictured her family and how happy they used to be before they lost the youngest of her siblings. Apparently, guards found incriminating evidence against her. She was, then, accused of murder. With that, she escaped execution and fled to the northern country of Skyrim.
Suddenly, the Altmer snapped back into reality as she began to heard war cries. Worried it was guards that had followed her, she ran farther away from Cyrodiil, but the sounds only increased. She stopped as she saw men of red and blue viciously slaughtering one another.
"Part of the Civil War, maybe?" she thought. She had heard whispers of the Imperial Empire and a rebel force in blue fighting because of the Aldmeri Dominion led by her kind. She scowled. Imperials sounded like weaklings whenever she heard about them and their near defeat in the Great War. Nords sounded like ignorant buffoons, but at least they were courageous enough to fight back against people.
She looked around and noticed a dying soldier dressed in blue. She snuck over to him and checked if he was still alive. The man gasped, startling her. Before he could shout, she covered his mouth and pressed a single finger to her lips. She went to introduce herself, but paused. Her name was no longer going to be that disgusting, traitorous elven name anymore. What would be fitting in a land such as this? She finally decided and spoke to the man.
"Shh. My name is Ana. I'm here to help you. What… What is going on?" she asked, feeling anxious and stupid.
"Ana? You're a… High Elf… How should I know… if you aren't one a them?" he asked, gesturing towards the Imperials.
"Trust me, I wouldn't want to be with any of those cowards in any era," she said, glaring at the men. The soldier let out a raspy laugh before he groaned in agony.
"Alright… I can trust you. Please… take my sword and shield… Leave me here and help my brothers fight…" he said, struggling to talk. Ana nodded and quickly grabbed them.
"I won't disappoint you," she said, feeling determined to draw blood of the dying man's enemies.
"Thank… you…" he said, slowly fading away into the mercy of death. Ana stared at him for a moment, thinking of something to say.
"What is it these people say…? Talun… Talther… Talos!" she grinned victoriously as she remembered. She didn't care much for the "god". In fact, she didn't think it was necessary to worship a murder, but people can worship whom they want as long as they don't bother her.
"Talos be with you," she whispered, feeling awkward doing so. Shaking her head, she rushed into the battle, driving the sword straight through an Imperial's stomach just as he was about to decapitate a blue soldier. The blue one stared at her, faltering for a second before being stabbed through the neck by another Imperial. Ana let the man her sword was in drop to the ground as she began to fight his comrade. She slit his throat in one quick motion as soon a she got the chance. She moved on from one Imperial to the next until the blue side was victorious. The men and women stared at her in shock as they caught their breath. She thought of an explanation as she caught hers.
"Hello," she said softly, not knowing what else to say. The rest of them were speechless. Moments passed, and it was just endless staring. That is, until someone stepped forward. She was a woman roughly in her late thirties.
"Why does someone of your kind fight alongside the true brothers and sisters of Skyrim?"she asked loud and clear. Ana cleared her throat. Should she be honest and risk getting captured only to be murdered after finally tasting sweet freedom?
"I ran from my home, Cyrodiil wishing for a better life here," she explained, wishing to say nothing more. They didn't need to know more than that.
"And? What say you towards the Imperials?" a male blue soldier asked.
"She clearly explained it through the victory today! Ulfric Stormcloak would be proud!" a woman shouted this time. They all eventually agreed and cheered for her. Before she knew it, she was heading to a place called "Windhelm" with the many soldiers she'd learned were called the Stormcloaks. She should have figured with who their leader was. She began to dislike the man the more she heard about him. He stood for a good cause, but seemed like a power-hungry pig. The soldiers filled her in on their religion, politics, and more as they travelled. She shivered fiercely the farther they got from warmth. Windhelm was said to be the coldest city in the nine holds. She rubbed her arms, wondering how they could survive like this. She'd rather go back to the Rift, the hold they battled in.
Boisterous men and women stormed through the city gates, Ana in the very middle of them. She didn't have time to enjoy the castle-like build of everything before she was ushered into a large palace. Ahead of her were a throne and a long dining table. A man sat atop the throne, staring at her from across the room. His golden hair burned like the sun of the Summerset Isles.
Ana gulped as Stormcloak soldiers escorted her towards the "true king of Skyrim". Ulfric examined her for a few moments, letting the tension gnaw at Ana's stomach. The man's glare was as icy as the place he resided.
"Who is this high elf you have brought with you? A prisoner?" he asked, his voice booming without any effort. It rattled Ana's core, intimidating her. This was the man the Thalmor spoke of? She remembered the men and women laughing and joking underneath their hooded robes. Cowards. This man was a force to be reckoned with if the things she had been told were true.
"This high elf helped us win, King Ulfric!" a soldier shouted.
"She hates the empire as much as we do!" another shouted louder until every single one of them began to cause a ruckus. Ulfric silenced them by standing up and walking down towards Ana.
"Is this true, elf?" he asked, staring deeply into her eyes and right into her soul. Ana gulped.
"Y-Yes, sir," she said, not wanting to upset this guy. Ulfric didn't speak. The pause lasted so long; it scared Ana when Ulfric began to let out a hearty laugh.
"You expect me to believe you? I trust my brothers and sisters, but you… I have never seen someone of your kind so friendly with ours without a price. So, what shall it be? Power? Wealth?" he asked mockingly. Ana frowned.
"You think I'd have killed those men- spilling their blood- all for a trick?" she asked angrily. As soon as Ulfric's icy gaze returned, her heart froze with it. She gulped and continued, risking whatever punishment it was awaiting her. At least she wouldn't die by the hands of those she called her own. "I will assure you, Ulfric Stormcloak, I don't believe in Talos or your other gods as much as you do, but I'm not a cowardly fool as to rip it away from someone because they are deemed 'threatening'. I have no bad blood with any of you. It is just that you cannot trust someone other than a Nord."
The men and women surrounding her gasped and took a step back as if she were the carrier of a plague. Those who once praised her gave her looks of disgust. Ulfric's glare disappeared and a sly smirk began to grow on his lips.
"You've got some spunk, haven't you? You dare to speak against me when I can clearly send these soldiers after you in mere seconds. Not to mention the fact you could end up like King Torygg right now," Ulfric said in a low voice, getting real close to her face, "That… is the kind of soldier we need."
Ana was silent. She didn't feel like doing anything for a man who liked to play with his food.
"I bet all these soldiers have something he wants to use against them," she thought to herself as she looked around. Their disgust had disappeared and there were hopeful looks on their faces. Their expressions had changed so fast it was as if there were masks upon masks under their helmets. "Puppets" was the first word she thought of. To her, it was all theatrics. A show put on to please. This Ulfric Stormcloak probably never leaves this place anyway except to show off.
"I'll… have to think about it. It's very sudden," she said, making up something other than "No". Ulfric nodded.
"New to Skyrim. Right…" he said, "Sleep on it. I'll let the owner of Candlehearth Hall know you may stay for the night free."
Ana nodded and walked out of the building as she was dismissed. She looked around and took in the sights. There were two bowls of fire in front of her as she stepped out. Near the one farthest from her, a woman stood there, begging for septims and trying to warm up. Ana went up to her.
"Miss? Are you alright?" she asked.
"Do I look alright to you? I'm freezing and no one will give me a single septim!" she snapped. Ana frowned and walked off. Being poor doesn't mean she needed to be mean. As Ana walked past the woman, her arms only got colder and she could see her breath.
"Odd… Is this normal?" she asked herself mentally. She went up to a man loudly spouting nonsense about Dunmer. Reluctantly, she asked him where Candlehearth Hall was.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Are you ssstupid?" he slurred, laughing in her face, "Right behind me, misss-y."
Ana scowled at the strong smell of mead coming from him. He obviously had too much to drink. As he stared at her longer, he noticed her ears and scowled. He started to scream out that she was an Imperial spy. Ana rolled her eyes and sighed, ignoring the drunken moron. She went inside the long building and sighed in relief as her freezing arms warmed up.
"Cold, huh? I've got somethin' to warm you up," a man sitting at a counter with a bottle of alcohol in his hand said with a smile. Ana cautiously stepped forward.
"Don't tell me you're a drunkard like the scumbag outside," she said as she sat next to him. He let out a laugh.
"Of course not. The name's Sam. You?" he asked. There was something off about him. Ana couldn't place her finger on it, but it was there.
"Marianne," Ana lied. For a split second she could have worn she saw a smirk appear on the man's face. A shiver went down her spine.
"Well, alright, Marianne. How about a drinking contest. You and me. I'll even let you have my prized staff," he offered. Ana thought for a moment. What'd she have to lose?
"You know what? Sure. What do you have?" she asked. Sam grinned and slid a drink over to her. It had a sweet and sour smell to it, causing her nose to shrivel up.
"Ah, just try it. It's good. Trust me," Sam encouraged, taking a large gulp of his own drink and belching loudly afterward. Ana chuckled and looked at the drink with a bit of doubt.
"Ah, what the heck?" she thought and chugged it. Her head suddenly felt light. She let out a giggle after burping herself.
"See? What'd I tell you? You good for another round?" Sam asked. Ana accepted, wanting to feel giddier. The drunker she got, the less she could see Sam's devilish grin.
"Alright, alright. You win. How about I get you-" Sam began just before Ana passed out, falling hard onto the floor. When she awoke, she did not recognize where she was.
"Gods, where am I?" she thought to herself, wondering what the hell she got herself into last night. Might as well try to figure this out.