CHAPTER ONE
Unbound
The rattle of wagon wheels against broken cobblestone rocked young Freya Strongbow from her less-than-comfortable slumber. Her head was pounding, an ache that seemed to stretch down her back. Vague and blurry memories reminded her of the blunt blow she had suffered before she succumbed to darkness. She groaned, hoping to nurture the blow with the soft touch of her hands. As she went to run her hands over the bruise, her eyes met with the rough bindings of hemp rope securing her wrists before her.
"Hey, you." A voice called from across the wagon, "You're finally awake."
Freya peered through the folds of her thick, dark brown hood towards the man who spoke, and was slightly thrown back by his rough appearance. He was a Nord, that much was certain, though his face was barely visible behind the shriveled blonde locks of his hair. He whipped his head back, revealing deep scars and wrinkles that were etched across his face. He seemed to be looking at her, as if slightly worried, or perhaps sorry for her.
"You were trying to cross the border, right?" He asked.
Freya gave a small nod, and the man just shook his head.
"You picked a bad time to try and leave Skyrim." He remarked. "You walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there."
Freya looked to the right of the blonde Nord to see a brunette man next to him. The man turned his head towards the blonde, a large black eye and a few cuts on his arms revealing that he too had been forced into this situation like she had. The brunette looked in anger towards the blonde man, his teeth clenched underneath the thick hairs of his stubble.
"Damn you Stormcloaks." He snarled, his hatred for this man evident in his voice "Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could 'a stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell"
He then turned to Freya, his snarl still vibrant and his eyes brimming with hatred for the men who rode in the wagon with him.
"You and me, we shouldn't be here." He loudly whispered, "It's these damned Stormcloaks they want."
The blonde man snorted wryly at the thief's last comment.
"We are all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."
A loud bang came from the driver, who slammed his leathery fist against the rough wood of the carriage. He looked over his shoulder, his face shrouded under the leather helmet he wore.
"Shut up back there!" He shouted.
There was a short silence as they all bowed their heads. The young Freya then looked over, shrugging her hood slightly to see a man in fine clothes. Such clothes were only worn by the Jarls and Thanes of Tamriel. What drew her attention, however, was not the fine clothes or the lush fur cloak draped over his shoulders, but the tight gag over his mouth. Something about him set her on edge as she turned towards the blonde man in confusion.
"Ummm..." she whispered, as if afraid to draw the ire of the group. "Who's that? Why is he gagged?"
The blonde man followed her gaze towards the well-dressed man.
"That's Ulfric Stormcloak," He smirked as he turned towards the man. "The true High King of Skyrim."
Freya's eyes widened in shock, as well as utter fear. Even she had heard of the great Ulfric. He was the man who had murdered the High King with merely his voice. If he was the cause of her own imprisonment, then things were more dire than she had originally believed.
"The Jarl of Windhelm?" The horse thief gasped, "But- if they captured you, then where are they taking us?"
Freya looked around as the tall trees of Skyrim seemed to split apart, revealing the high stone walls of a city the caravan was approaching. A lonely wooden sign read 'Helgen' and the sound of Imperial soldiers chanting filled the air. The large wooden gates were pulled open by more Imperial soldiers, allowing the wagons to continue their trek.
"General Tullius, sir!" A voice called to the man leading. "The headsman is waiting upon your orders!"
Shimmering in the clouded sun, Tullius rode into Helgen wearing polished golden armor that glistened in the sunlight. His short white hair was neatly styled and he gave off an air of power with every step of his horse. He rode off to the side towards a group of High Elves on horseback.
"Good," He sneered, "Let's get this over with."
The horse thief clasped his hands tightly together, praying to any of the Divine who may have been listening. Ulfric also bowed his head, not in prayer, but in resignation. The blonde man merely looked ahead, then his eyes caught sight of the High elves, and his expression turned sour.
"Look at him," The blonde murmured, "General Tullius and the Thalmor. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."
He looked back, watching the decrepit stone houses creak pass the slow wagon train. As they continued their journey, men and women began to take their children into the houses. The blonde began to sniff the air and his eyes became distant.
"I used to be sweet on a girl from here." He said, his once confident demeanor becoming more saddened. "I wonder if Vilod is stilling making mead with juniper berries."
The wagons entered a large courtyard, where a few other wagons sat quietly, loaded with similarly dressed men and woman. All of them wore tattered chainmail covered with rags of leather and cloth, thickly-bound fur boots, and leather gloves. The blonde sighed as he looked towards the rotted wood of the wagon floor.
"Funny." He whispered, "When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."
The wagons groaned to a stop, the soft neigh of the horses became still, and the air became thick. The horse thief looked panicked as he saw them off loading the other carts that lay waiting in the courtyard. Freya began to finally look around her and began to worry herself.
"Why are we stopping?" She asked nervously.
The blonde stood up in front of her and gave her a saddened glance as he turned towards the Imperial guards at the end of the wagon. She became pale, not wanting to hear the answer, but still needing to know.
"Why do you think?" He whispered. "End of the line."
Freya's heart sank and she felt something inside of her die. Her life had never been easy, and frankly, she hadn't been too surprised to wake up in a prison wagon. She just never would have imagined that her luck would have turned out THIS bad. The Divines must have truly hated her.
The blonde man walked forth as she stood up. Then a man caught her attention from the first carts. A thick, well-muscled man with the sides of his head high and tight which formed into a long braid that ran down his back. He bore a long beard, which was tied with a worn string near the end and knotted. Around his neck was an well-worn Amulet of Talos, most likely the reason he was part of this caravan. He looked at the Imperial guards, then stood up and began to walk towards the end. The carriage shuddered, groaned, and then rose up as the man stepped onto the ground.
"You!" A female voice called, "The Nord in the hood."
Freya snapped out of her trance and turned her head towards the voice. A man wearing simple leather armor with red velvet trims stood with a list of names, and beside him in steel Imperial Armor was an Imperial captain. She crossed her arms and looked at Freya with a snarl.
"Step forward."
Freya weakly stood up and walked towards the end of her own wagon. Stepping off gently so as not to fall, she turned to the man with the list. She bowed her head, trying to hide her face in the cloth of her cloak. The man looked at his list, his expression puzzled.
"Who are you?" He asked, flipping through the pages.
"Freya." she whispered. "Freya Strongbow… A Nord"
The Imperial holding the list then turned to the captain. He whispered into her ear, the captain nodding in time. Freya could barely make out what they were saying, but she could guess that it was about her. For a moment, she dared to hope that everything would be cleared up when her name didn't appear on the list, but those hopes were dashed when the captain just shook her head.
"Forget the list." She said, "She goes to the block."
The Imperial nodded sadly before turning his attention back to Freya.
"By your orders, Captain." He murmured, "I'm sorry Nord. Maybe the Divines will show more mercy than we have."
He pressed his hand deep into her back and pushed her towards the crowd as Freya's spirits faded once more. She was gonna die. She would just have to accept it. She went and stood next to the large man who loomed over her petite frame. His face showed an annoyed expression, looking down at his hands which were bound twice compared to the rest of the men.
General Tullius approached the square, the soldiers all beating their chest as the crowds of civilians murmured in secret. He raised his hand and the square became silent until only the wind could be heard around them. The tall man then perked his ears, as if hearing something in the distance.
"Ulfric Stormcloak!" He shouted for all to hear. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero."
The citizens booed, throwing fruits and vegetables into the square as their voices echoed in the wind. The tall man's attention was drawn elsewhere as he looked over his shoulder.
"But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne!" He exclaimed, the citizens booing once more. "You started this war, plunging Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down! And restore the Peace!"
The citizens cheered, and a distant howl echoed through the valley. A few men looked confused, unsure of the noise. Even Freya looked up from her daze, the sound sending a chill up her spine.
"Ignore it!" Called the captain, "Give them their rites"
A priestess wearing bright orange robes nodded, raising her arms up. Her eyes closed as she began the prayers.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessing of the Eight Divines upon you for you are-"
Suddenly, the tall man next to Freya lurched forward. Like a statue coming to life, he growled and shouted into the crowd.
"It's the Nine! Damn it!" His voice bellowed, "You can't just say Talos isn't real! You can't kill a Divine!"
The Stormcloaks nodded and shouted as well, the group angrily throwing swears and insults at the priestess. Freya, however, just pulled her hood down farther over her head, trying to disappear into the dark fabric.
"Enough!" Called the captain as the men's cries began dying down. "Begin with the execution!"
She grabbed one Stormcloak, shoving him towards the block. He stumbled before the executioner grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and forced him to his knees. The executioner looked down as the captain nodded. He raised his axe and it came down with a sickening crunch.
"Next!" Called the captain, pointing through the crowd at Freya. "You, the girl in the hood."
Freya gave a resigned sigh, stepping towards the block. She didn't even bother crying, pleading, or praying. She simply approached the block, falling to her knees.
"Remove the hood." The captain ordered.
A howl rocked the valley once more as the executioner went to pull the hood away. Freya closed her eyes, awaiting the fall of her hood and the axe. The world shuttered as another deafening roar rocked the sky. Through the mass of clouds that blocked out the sun, a terrifying creature, one believed to be extinct for generations, soared through the sky before landing on an old stone tower.
"Dragon!" An Imperial soldier screamed
The dragon bellowed into the heavens as the clouds swirled around it, becoming black as night. Screams rushed through the valley as lightning struck innocent people, turning them to dust. The guards stumbled and the executioner ran, his axe clattering against the stone streets. Freya stared up at the beast, terror rooting her onto the chopping block.
"Zu'u lost daal." The dragon shouted.
While everyone around her heard only the strange tongue of the dragon, the meaning of the beast's words were perfectly clear to Freya.
"I have returned…"
The dragon's dark red eyes looked at her, as if staring through her very being and piercing her soul. His clawed wings dug deep into the stonework of the old tower as he leaned closer. His gaping maw came down to devour her.
"You stay away from her, ya big ugly lizard!"
Freya turned to see the tall man shouting as his arms twisted. With one swift pull, the binding ropes tore apart, freeing his hands. Throwing his arms back, he ran towards her, scooping her up seconds before the dragon could devour her.
The dragon howled in anger at the loss of its prey and breathed fire towards the two. The tall man dove and slid to the safety of a second tower. The blonde man from the cart slammed the doors behind them, bracing himself against the wood. He felt the scorching heat from behind him as the two stumbled to the ground, Freya rolling out of her savior's grip.
"Ulfric!" The blonde said, turning to the Jarl sitting on a stool in the corner. "Could the legends be true?"
Ulfric snarled as he looked up to the blonde man.
"Legends don't burn down villages Ralof." He said calmly.
The tower shook, the brickwork cracking. Ralof looked up, covering his head as boards and dust caved into the tower. He turned towards the tall man.
"Yurich, we need to move!" He shouted as the tall man nodded. "Quickly, up the tower!"
Freya, who was still in shock from her abrupt rescue, was quickly picked up by Yurich, the tall man who had saved her.
"Pup," Yurich said, "I need you to hold on tight. We're leaving this town before we burn with it."
He grabbed her by her bindings, tugging them over his head and around his neck. She dangled from his back like a loose cloak, her legs wrapping around his stomach for some measure of security. She looked over Yurich's shoulder, still slightly surprised that he had saved her. She didn't know what to say, so she took a chance.
"Freya." she muttered.
Yurich looked back at her in slight confusion.
"My name is Freya." she said again, slightly braver this time.
Yurich nodded and turned to follow Ralof, who began to climb up the tower via the old stone staircase. They were nearing the top of the stairs when the wall was suddenly burst open by the dragon's scaly maw. Yurich stopped short and threw his arms over his face, forcing Freya into the wall to protect her as much as he could.
Yurich watched as Ralof was consumed by the flames, his body vanished beneath the wall of white-hot fire before becoming merely a shadow on the opposing wall. Freya looked over Yurich's shoulder in horror at the site as the dragon roared, pulling its head free from the tower and flying away once more.
"By the Nine." she gasped.
Yurich walked towards the large hole in the side, then back towards the blackened outline where Ralof once stood. The tower groaned and swayed, shifting as its foundation began to slowly give way. They couldn't stay here much longer, not if they wanted to live. He slowly turned back to the hole left by the dragon. Below, he saw the local inn. Its roof had caught fire and had collapsed, creating in his mind the perfect place to land from a well-timed jump.
"What are you thinking?" She asked quietly, as if sensing what he was planning.
Yurich only smiled as he turned to her.
"Trust me pup, I'll protect you." He said, stepping back. "And may the Nine Protect us."
Freya looked at her savior with confusion, but tightened her legs around him in anticipation of his next move. Yurich then raised his amulet to his lips, kissing the worn iron it was made of. He then dropped it onto his chest and leaned forward in an animalistic stance. With a suddenly burst of speed, he made for the edge and kicked off.
"By the Ni~ne!" Freya screamed as they flew through the air.
Yurich covered his face and bent his knees as they made contact with the remains of inn roof. The two fell into the top floor, rolling passed strewn about beds and empty side tables. Yurich rolled and Freya was pressed between the rough floor and the heavy man she was forced to cling to. Yurich stood up, pulling Freya up with him. They were both covered in thatch and splinters, which Yurich brushed off as he looked out a surviving top floor window.
Down in the street, he could see the Imperial who had held the list. He stood with another man, both of them armed and attempting to call a small child. The child seemed scared, his head looking all around.
"Hamming!" The Imperial shouted, "Get over here! The dragon may-"
The warning turned to a summoning, for at that moment the dragon landed hard in front of the group. The ground erupted in a cloud of dust and dirt as the beast stared right at the child. Yurich's eyes widened
"No," He whispered.
He ran past the collapsed stairway and jumped through a bit of broken floor, landing on the ground floor of the inn. Running towards the door, he slammed his shoulder hard through the wood. It broke off its hinges as he exited the inn.
"Hamming!" The Imperial screamed.
The dragon let out a scream of its own and a stream of fire engulfed not only Hamming, but the Imperial and his companion as well. There was nowhere to hide, and Yurich could only watch as the three were overtaken by its flames. Freya then saw the dragon, its scaly lips seemingly forming a cruel smile. Its red eyes glowing as it seemed to speak.
"Arrogant mortals," It taunted as it flapped its wings and lifted off the ground. "Your pride will be humbled."
Yurich looked in terror at the three charred bodies, never before having felt so truly afraid. He was pulled from this crippling fear by a barely audible whimper coming from Freya, who was still clinging to his back. He regained himself, steeling his resolve and began running once more. Down the old cobbled street, he turned down an alleyway. Breaking through the doors of the charred remains of a lonely house, Yurich entered the front gates of the town.
Archers shot into the sky as the dragon circled overhead. Its voice causing more storm clouds to appear, lightning striking the earth and scorching it. He could hear many of the soldiers screaming in agony, as well as the holy men and women praying for mercy. He ran underneath a collapsed wall and through burning palisades towards a large keep. Sweat was dripping from his brow as he heard screams all around him. He thrusted his arms forward and threw the doors of the old keep open, running into the darkness.
With no time to lose, Yurich pulled Freya's bound wrists free from his thick throat, tossing her onto one of the beds in the keep before running back to the doors. He slammed them shut, barring them, and then leaned against them in utter relief.
Freya looked at Yurich, panting heavily as she did her best to brush away the ash and thatch that still covered her. Yurich's eyes began to adjust to the darkness as he approached the bed she sat on. He rummaged around in the chest in front of the bed until he found a small dagger.
"Let me see your hands."
Freya held out her hands as Yurich gripped the rope. He pulled it tight and placed the edge of the blade hard against the threads before sawing through them. The rope broke and her hands separated, her bindings falling away to reveal the red rings around her wrists. She rubbed them, trying to regain lost circulation as she stared in amazement.
"Thanks." she said after a moment
Yurich began to rub similar red marks around his neck as he took a look around. The barracks weren't ransacked like the rest of the town. Beds were freshly messed up and the old trunks sat quietly at their feet. Yurich walked over to one, looming over it as he gripped the top of it. Lifting the lid, he looked inside. Digging through the chest's contents, he tossed out armor and pants before he saw the rough outline of a rusted iron key. He grabbed it and turned to Freya.
"Follow me," He said calmly, "I have known these tunnels since I was a mere pup like you."
He stood back up and walked towards the hallway. Freya sat there for a minute, unsure of whether to follow, or to try and find her own way out. After a minute, she scrambled off the bed and began to chase Yurich. She wasn't sure why he had helped her, but frankly, she liked having someone who had her back.
The old rotted stonework of the keep was covered in thick moss, the sound of the rampaging battle outside could be heard even through these walls. Yurich reached over, grabbing a torch from one of the sconces on the wall. The light offered little as he reached a large iron barred wall. He looked at the key, raising an eyebrow as they approached.
"What's wrong?" Freya asked.
"I don't know," He said, his nostrils flared, "But I don't think we're alone."
He reached for the iron door, and forced the key inside. It turned and the lock tumbled open with a loud click. The door opened and Yurich held his hand out behind him. Freya stopped and Yurich walked forward.
"Die Imperial Bastards!" A cry came as a war axe swung at him.
Yurich's hand shot out and grabbed the handle of the axe, surprising the Stormcloak. The other had her hands raised with sword, only to be surprised by Yurich's size. Standing over a foot taller than any of them, he turned to the free Stormcloak with a gaze of fire. She dropped her weapon and backed away slowly as Yurich wrenched the axe from his attackers grip. He then slammed his forehead against the forehead of his attacker. The Stormcloak's eye rolled back and he stumbled before falling to the ground as Yurich turned to the other.
"Your shield." He said calmly, "I need it."
Freya watched this scuffle in surprise, then spotted another Stormcloak hiding in a small tunnel. Yurich was distracted by the shield-bearing stormcloak, and didn't seem to hear the other one approaching. Thinking fast, Freya grabbed the fallen sword, turning around and charging at the stormcloak in his hiding spot.
She raised her sword over her head and swung down. The charging stormcloak drew his own blade and blocked the blow. Freya raised the sword once again and sideswiped. The Stormcloak attempted to block once more, only to be scratched by the edge of the blade as it swept across his chest. He stumbled back as Freya lifted the blade again with both hands, plunging the tip through his stomach. Blood erupted from his mouth as death claimed him.
Freya stared down at the fallen stormcloak, breathing heavily as she freed the sword from the dead man's chest. She looked over at Yurich, who grabbed the shield from the stormcloak before bashing it into her skull, causing her to begin stumbling to the ground. Yurich then walked over to the large iron bars that made the doorway into a sloping hallway that seemed to sink even deeper into the Earth. He pulled out the key from his satchel, and pressed it into the lock. With a quick turn, the tumblers spun into a click. The door lurched open as the whole hallway shook violently from another roar of the dragon.
"That dragon must be really tearing up the place." Yurich said as they were coated in the dust falling from the ceiling. "We can't stay in one place too long. If we do, we could be caught in a cave-in."
Freya gave a nervous nod, following Yurich as they made their way deeper and deeper into the caverns. Up ahead, they could hear voices, and from their arrogant tone, they had to be Imperials. Yurich looked to her, an air of warmth surrounding him.
"Come on, pup." He said calmly, "Nords have no fears that can't be conquered."
Freya nodded in agreement to Yurich's little speech as she tightened her grip on her sword. The big guy also smiled, happy to see her finally express some emotion that wasn't fear. The room shook once more, reminding them of the direness of their situation.
They continued down into the sloping hallway, the air became thicker as the space became tighter. They approached a narrow passage, when the whole tunnel shook hard. Yurich looked up, and then grabbed Freya by her waist.
"Hold Pup!" He cried, pulling her back.
The roared echoed as the beams buckled then snapped, bringing the entire ceiling crashing down before them. The tunnel filled with dust and smoke before coming to a calm. Yurich surveyed the damage as Freya coughed and hacked, trying to rid her lungs of the dust.
"Too close," she whispered.
Yurich stood her up, the tunnel now blocked from going further down. Yurich swore under his breath, before noticing the old rot-iron door leading to the storage area. He placed his hand against it, then his ear.
"Pup," He whispered, "I think we may have company. Prepare your steel."
Freya nodded, lifting her sword as Yurich slowly pushed the door open. Suddenly, a well struck blade sunk deep into his wrist from a downward slash. Blood erupted from the wound as Freya jumped back.
"Die Stormcloaks!" A voice called, "For the Emperor! For Cyrodiil!"
Yurich's free hand grabbed the blade and ripped it free of his wrist as Freya ran into the room. She saw the first one as his blade was wrenched from Yurich. Suddenly, a second blade of an Imperial Officer surprised her. It's sharpened edge striking her on her back, ripping through her clothing and skin. The wound ripped open and Freya screamed in agony, drawing Yurich's attention away from his own Imperial.
"Pup!" Yurich cried, his voice dripping with fear.
His eyes slowly flooded with red as his mind filled with anger. He wanted them to suffer, to feel pain as his face began to elongate. His shield slamming into the Imperial as his grip tightened around the axe handle. His kindness faded as the blade sunk deep into the back of the Imperial's skull. Blood erupted from the Imperial's mouth as Yurich's shield-hand grabbed his enemy's throat, digging his nails deep into his skin and pulling his throat free from his neck as Yurich turned back to Freya.
"Oww..." she hissed, blood pouring from her back. "By the Nine, that's gonna leave a scar."
The Imperial Officer fighting her went to bring his sword down upon her, but she rolled out of the way from the blow. She yelped in pain as her wound touched the rough stones of the ground, then quickly got to her feet. Pushing the pain to the back of her mind, Freya gripped her sword tighter and charged forward. The ringing of steel echoed through the chamber as swords clashed, but even wounded, Freya was not going down easily.
Using her small stature to her advantage, Freya darted behind the Officer and plunged her sword deep into his back, killing him instantly. She then promptly collapsed in pain. Yurich's eyes widened as he ran over to her, passing over her kill to grab her. He looked around, and noticed a few barrels with their lids opened and rushed over, reaching inside of one.
His hands became filled with the white powder, raising it to his nose to discover it was salt. He checked another barrel and pulled out a few vials of red and blue liquid. A smile crept across his face as he ran back to her side.
"Freya," He said, as she faded back into consciousness. "Drink this, you will feel better."
He placed the vial against Freya's lips and tipped the bottle back. As she drank the strange liquid, an unusual warmth passed through her body. She could feel the skin of her back slowly pulling itself together, the healing process significantly aided. With a few more swigs, she was in top physical condition. Even the bruises from her capture were gone.
"Wow," she muttered. "That's… quite the cure."
Yurich smiled taking the rest of the bottle in one swift chug as his bleeding wrist closed.
"It's a good potion to have in tight scrapes." He said, "Can you move?"
Freya rolled her shoulders experimentally, then twisted her entire upper body. She had full mobility and felt better then she had in weeks.
"Yeah." she replied. "I'm okay. You?"
Yurich stood up, the wound on his wrist now invisible but the scar was still there.
"The battle was good," He said, "But we still have to leave here alive, pup."
Yurich approached the next door. As his hand reached to grab it, the door burst towards him. It broke from its hinges as a form flew onto the hard stone floor, it was a Stormcloak, sent flying backwards into the room by a surge of lightning planting itself into his chest. Freya stumbled back, her expression wide in shock. Being a wandering Nord, she knew very little magic, and the spells she knew were nowhere near as powerful as what she was seeing.
"Blasted Stormcloaks!" A hissing voice cried, "May your Divines punish you!"
Freya turned towards the voice as Yurich prepared his axe. The door opened again and revealed the Imperial Torturer and his assistant battling twin stormcloaks. Freya was slightly torn as to whom she should attack. The Imperials had tried to kill her, but the Stormcloaks weren't exactly the good guys either. Luckily, Yurich quickly provided the solution to the problem.
"I hate this bloody war!" He shouted, holding his sword. "Die ya bastards!"
Yurich's shield raised up as the Executioner turned to him, his hands raised up to cast a spell. Lightning danced on his fingers as Yurich's shield slammed into the Torturer's stomach, forcing him back into iron bars that protected a ransacked armory. Two strong hands grabbed Yurich's shoulders as the Assistant thew Yurich against the opposing wall. Suddenly, a Stormcloak charged and knocked the Assistant off his feet.
"Freya!" Yurich called, "Find ya beast! Hunt!"
Freya barely understood what Yurich had said, but gripped her sword. Letting out a wild call as she ran forward, charging towards the Stormcloak and the Assistant. She raised her sword, swinging it down onto the Stormcloak's back, nearly slicing him in two. He fell, pinning the assistant to the ground. On instinct, Freya twisted her blade, swinging sideways until she severed the assistant's head from his shoulders.
The Torturer turned to Freya, his arms wrapped in bolts of lightning as a smirk curled from underneath the tarnished leather hood. He raised his hand towards her, snickering as he prepared his spell. Freya could only turn to watch in horror as the bolts of lightning danced across his skin. Yurich stood up and dashed towards her.
The lightning bolt struck the passing Yurich, wrapping around him like an electric net. The lightning burned his skin as he dropped to his knees.
"Yurich!" Freya screamed as she watched in horror.
Yurich's face contorted and growled as he stood up and charged the man. His shield hit the Torturer's stomach, both stumbled back as he hit the cage once more. He raised the axe and cut through the Torturer's shoulder before tearing into his chest, crimson red flowed from his mouth as he looked up at Yurich. His forehead came down with a vengeance against the Torturer's nose bridge. His nose erupted in blood and the Torturer's head dropped forward. Yurich pulled his axe free, and the now dead corpse slowly lowered to the stone floor before it became a heap.
"Yurich, are you okay?" Freya called, slowly approaching him.
Yurich's face began to return to normal, as he sheathed the axe into his sash around his waist.
"We need to keep moving," He said in reply.
Looking passed the three rusted iron cages, Yurich leaned himself against the barred off room in pain. Shaking a bit, he pushed himself back up and cough.
"There is an exit soon." He continued as he approached the tunnel, "Hopefully we'll be seeing the light of day before long."
The two walked passed the cages, where bodies laid huddled in pain. Freya could only look away with a sad tear.
"This is horrible" Freya whimpered, "Why did they do this? There had to have been a better way."
They reached the end where more cages hung from the ceiling with corpses inside. Yurich shook his head as he passed by. Grabbing his Talos amulet, he kissed it once more before whispering something under his breath. A voice suddenly broke his concentration.
"We can't stay here," A clearly Nordic voice said, "Not with the Dragon about!"
A loud slap echoed through the cave as a female voice spoke.
"We have our orders," The voice spoke, "We stay here until Ulfric comes."
Yurich looked towards Freya and swore under his breath.
"By Talos' Grace," He murmured, "More of the blasted folk. Why can't they just leave this hellish place and go home?"
"Yurich, what do we do?"
Yurich looked at Freya and his gaze hardened. He needed to protect her now. He had already made it this far and they were nearly free of these Nine accursed caves. Focusing on the enemy before him, he felt the cold, light wind that filled the cavern. Off in the distance, he could hear the sound of water dripping, nearly drowned out by Stormcloak chainmail rattling in his ears.
By now, his whole body hurt and he couldn't tell how Freya felt. She could not have been much better since her face was dirtied by blood and ash. He sighed, adjusting his grip on his axe handle.
"Just a few more steps." he told himself.
He took a deep breath.
"Follow my lead." He whispered, picking up a stone from the floor. "I have an idea."
He threw the stone down near his feet, the loud echo bellowed in the cave as a few of the Stormcloaks turned on the short stonebridges where they stood.
"Go check it out!" The female commander shouted.
Two began to approach, their footsteps getting louder and louder. Yurich steeled himself, and then charged around the corner. His huge form rushed, pushing one of the swordsmen off the edge and into the shallow water below. Yurich then turned, grabbing the second Stormcloak by his neck and throwing him towards the entrance he had left. The body flew over the carved stone bridge before hitting the wall with a hard thud. The Stormcloak collapsed onto the ground, not getting back up, but revealing a bow and a quiver full of arrows on his back.
Yurich turned to the remaining men as Freya noticed a final one hidden behind some rocks. Thinking fast, she made a grab for the fallen Stormcloak's weapon. She took the longbow and threw the quiver over her shoulder, already notching an arrow in preparation. She began to move from the cover of the doorway, walking towards the ornate bridge that spanned the cave. She lifted the bow up, her right eye closed as she cocked the arrow. Pulling back the bowstring, she whispered.
"Nine guide my arrow."
Taking a deep breath, she released the arrow, sending it flying over the underground lake. The unsuspecting Stormcloak went in for a surprise attack, only to scream out as the iron tipped arrow ripped through his skull. Blood began to spill from his eyes and mouth as he stumbled sideways and collapsed next to the wall. Yurich paused and turned to Freya, watching her elegant hand reach into the quiver for another arrow.
The second archer turned to Freya, her face angered as she attempted to notch an arrow as well. Freya closed her eye once more and aimed.
"Oh no, you don't!"
She released the arrow, but the enemy archer sidestepped and smiled as she drew her bowstring. Freya's eyes widened as the stormcloak focused on her.
"Now I got you, filthy-"
A thick iron handaxe suddenly flew passed the Stormcloak, narrowing missing her head. She stumbled back before turning to Yurich. She was literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Panicked, she quickly trying to regain her footing. Once she succeeded, she began to ran.
"Not this time." Freya murmured.
Freya drew back the bowstring as she notched the arrow, her hand suddenly wrapped in the essence of fire as she ignited the arrow tip. She smiled confidently, closing her right eye for the third time. Her hand released and the scorching arrow flew. As if guided by the Nine, it struck the Stormcloak square in the back.
The Stormcloak screamed before falling onto the ground. The oil-soaked stone burst into flames as she writhed in pain, surrounded by red hot flames that only grew with every frantic movement. Yurich could only watch as the form slowly stopped moving and the flames died down. He turned to Freya as she ran across the bridges.
"I'm not very good with swords," She said with an unusual aura of confidence, "but I'm okay when it comes to bows."
Yurich nodded before continuing through. The clear-cut cavern slowly began to turn into a larger cave system. Water ran through a small creek and the walls felt like wet clay. A few Imperials and Stormcloak bodies laid about as Yurich walked ahead. The dark caverns offered little hope for light, but Yurich was prepared with his torch.
Soon, the cool breeze of winter winds began to fill the cave and the torch's light began to frantically waver. Yurich smiled as he began to step ahead. Suddenly, the sound of hissing was heard all around. Freya looked above her, her eyes widening at the massive spiders crawling across the ceiling. She was about to scream when Yurich covered her mouth, motioning his finger to his lips.
The two continued to move, managing to avoid any conflict with the oversized arachnids, as the wind growing ever stronger. Soon the thick darkness gave way to a sliver of light. Yurich and Freya smiled as they approached, and for the first time in what felt like an very long time, they reached the outdoors and the felt the strong winds of the cold.