Woooohooooo, First storaaaaaay. I'm also starting a Hunger Games story. Don't know when that is coming out. Hopefully soon.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bethesda, Skyrim, or The Elder Scrolls. If I did, Cicero (-Spoilers) would be MORE psychopathic.


A slow, quiet rumbling roused me from my deep slumber. My head pounds and I open my eyes ever so slightly. By continuing to breathe slowly and deeply, I was hoping to continue the pretense of sleeping. I scan my surroundings. I am in a horse-drawn cart, with four other people. One is dressed fancifully with a bear fur cloak, a jeweled necklace, and boots with golden trim. Another, with blonde hair, is wearing bronze armor over a bluish fur jacket and brown fur-lined boots. A rag clad man is next to me, his eyes red from crying. Across from me is a man wearing the same outfit as the blonde haired man. Their hands are all tied. I slowly rise from my slouched position, pretending that I had just woken up.

"Ahh, you're finally awake! You were trying to cross the border, ran right into the Imperial ambush." The blonde haired man calls in a gruff voice. My head throbs. What ambush? The rag clad man raises his head.

"Everything was fine until you Stormcloaks came; the Empire was nice and lazy. Hey you," he says turning to me, "we don't belong here."

"Were all brothers and sisters in binds now thief!" the blond man says. Meanwhile, the soldier looking guy across from me, who has been looking at me this entire time, lets out a long wolf whistle. I smile sweetly, before swinging my unbound right leg upward, my foot connecting with his jaw. We hear a sickening crunch, and he flies off the cart, landing in a heap on the ground.

"Quiet back there!" The red and black armored guard driving our cart says, turning. His eyes widen, seeing the crumpled heap. He shouts to a cart ahead of us and the whole procession, made up of several more carts filled with the blue soldiers, stops. Several of the red clad soldiers run up to the prone figure on the cobble road. I smirk as one of them raises his head and draws a hand across his throat. Our driver pales and slowly and climbs into the front of the cart. Two more of the guards climb into the cart and, after tying my legs together, they sit across from me, watching my every move. I smile and look down the road. A wooden stockade comes into sight. A large, balding man stands on a viewing platform above a gate in the wall. He nods his head and proceeds down a set of stairs. The gates are opened and the carts proceed into the city, the rag covered man starts invoking the name of some gods. As we pass through the gate, we see the balding man on a horse next to a tall man in grey robes.

"There's general Tullius, the military governor." The blonde soldier says with spite, nodding at the balding man, "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him, damn elves." I look at the man in the gray, I now notice he has pointy ears. I look at my surroundings. A drabble of grey, dull buildings surround us. Most have thatched roves with hay on top. We continue on until we reach a central town square like area. Among the red soldiers, I saw a tall cloaked head. As the crowd thinned, his true height was shown, but that was not what made the rag-clothed man gasp. It was the three-foot-long axe blade, on a five foot long handle.


First: Haters gonna hate. I want to know what you think.

Second: If I get ANY love on this, I will continue and, more importantly, PARTAAAAAAAY!