Disclaimer. I own nothing but my character.
The Soldier awoke. The sound of creaking wood had aroused him from his slumber.
"Hey, you're finally awake!"
He turned his head to meet the voice. A strong built man with blonde hair sat across from him.
"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked straight into that Imperial ambush. So did we, and that thief."
Border crossing? Imperial ambush? What was this? The fact that he had his hands tied behind his back didn't help. In fact, where the hell was he? He took this opportunity to look about. Around him great snowy mountains rose into the sky. Seated next to the burly blond man was a slightly smaller man, with great bags under his eyes and dark drown hair.
"Dam you stormcloaks, everything was nice and easy before you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If it wasn't for you I could have stolen that horse and been half-way to Hammerfell by now."
Hammerfell?
"You and me" he said, gesturing at the soldier, "We shouldn't be here. Its these dammed rebels that the Empire wants"
These 'Stormcloaks' were rebels. Well great.
"Besides, what's wrong with him?"
"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king"
The blonde man leapt to the defence of the bound man with a vigorous energy.
"You're Ulfric!? Oh Gods, where are they taking us"
"Shut up back there"
The Soldier took a disinterest in the conversation a turned his head to the other man in the cart.
Or Woman.
She was slender, and just below the soldier's height. Blue eyes, much like his own, pales kin and a bundle of golden hair were her predominate features. High cheekbones, full red lips… all in all a very attractive complexion. Her eyes met his, and he looked away in slight embarrassment. He may be tied up on a cart travelling to his probable execution, in a different world, but he still had standards.
"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?"
"Why do you ask?'
"A Nords last thoughts should be of home"
Nord. Is that what these people are called?
The convoy eventually came too a halt. The prisoners jumped off and names were called.
"Ralof of Riverwood"
The Blonde man walked forward.
"Loki of Rorikstead"
The Brown haired man began to panic. The soldier had seen it before. Someone who was not prepared to face death.
"No, you can't do this I'm not a rebel! I'm out of here"
He began to run away.
"Archers!" called the female captain.
A barrage of arrows hit the man, and he fell, dead.
"Anyone else feel like running?"
I do, thought the soldier. Though, I'm wise enough to decline your challenge.
"Wait"
One of the officials directed his attention to him and the girl.
"Who are you"
The girl spoke first.
"Mina" she said, in a soft tone "of Cyrodiil"
Where the hell is that?
"You're along way form the Imperial city. What are you doing in Skyrim?"
"And you, who are you"
The soldier felt all eyes on him
"Sargent Mitchel Sykes. 40 Commando. British Army "
"Sargent?"
Most present had disbelief and shock in there eyes.
"Captain, they're not on the list. What should we do?"
"She goes to the block. We will speak with the… Sargent later"
The gir- Mina was pushed away into the crowd of Prisoners, whilst the soldier was taken too one side.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to slaughter his king and usurp his throne. You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."
An unnatural roar echoed through the mountains. Everyone's eyes turned worriedly to the sky. Why were they looking up there?
"Its nothing. Carry on."
The Woman captain barked an order to a girl in yellow robes.
"Give them their last rites."
"As we condemn your souls to Atherius, blessing of the eight Di-…"
"For the love of Talos shut up and lest get this over with."
The woman simply walked away
"Come on, I haven't got all day"
It seemed that he intended to go out in style.
"My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?'
His head was promptly cut off. The soldier looked away. He'd seen things like this before, hell he'd seen worse, but it never got easier. Mind you, he was holding it in better than the girl, Mina. She looked positively terrified. Around him, people were shouting, mocking the dead man of cursing his executioners.
"Next the renegade from Cyrodill"
Someone pushed Mina forward. Oh God, they were going to execute her. He had to do something! But he couldn't. His weaponry hadn't made it with him to this place or had been taken. There was nothing he could do but watch. His eye caught hers. He looked away. Another roar, but no-one paid any attention to it. She was shoved roughly onto the block.
"Do you hear that?"
He head was facing away from him. He stared on in mute horror. The axe-man lifted is axe up. This was it. He could see that it was.
CRASH.
The axe-man fell over. The soldier looked up.
"What in Oblivion is that?"
No. That was impossible. That's a-
"Dragon!"
First Chapter, first story. Leave an review and tell me what you think. Have fun!
EDIT (29/1/14): Fixed glaringly obvious errors. Oops.