So here is my version of Skyrim, centering around my character Halle the Nord. I hope everyone likes it, but if not I am open to constructive criticism. Please review! Thanks for reading. Dragonborn/Vilkas eventually...
I do not own the rights to Elder Scrolls, that would be awesome... all that money. Anyway, enjoy. :)
Chapter One
Halle blinks her green eyes to get used to the light, eyes stinging, as she lays on the wooden bench in the back of a wagon. She looks out at her surroundings noticing first Ralof sitting in front of her. "Hey you. You're finally awake." He smiles warmly at her and she gets her bearings. She sits up slowly wincing she tries to reach up to her head, but finds her hands bound. Her confusion fades as she remembers the events that led her into this predicament.
"You were trying to cross the border, right?" His is the same voice that spoke to her before. Halle remembers trying to come back to her homeland, Skyrim, then… "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." Ralof gestures to his left. Next to him is Lokir, a look of desperation across his plain features. Next to her sits Ulfic Stormcloak. The wagon rocks back and forth as they roll over the uneven dirt road. There is something about Ulfric that makes Halle uneasy, an instant dislike of the gagged and bound man. She cannot reason why she feels this way about him, but not his companion Ralof or Lokir the thief.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." Lokir addresses the two blonde Nords in the wagon. Halle didn't know what they were talking about at first, but soon reasons that they are the Nords she has heard about who want separate from the Empire.
"You there. You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Lokir didn't need to convince Halle of anything, but she didn't say anything. She learned long ago that sometimes you learn more by listening.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Ralof states. Halle knows he's right, nothing can be done now.
"Shut up back there!" Yells the driver. He wears the Imperial armor she's seen so many times before. That's why she surrendered when they had appeared, weapons out, it had to be a mistake. It could all be cleared up, but instead she got a sword hilt to the head when she tried to talk to them. And now she is on a wagon to her death, her light red hair tinged with a little blood. The Empire so intent on their prize could only see rebels, not travelers. It didn't help that she is a Nord the same as the rebels. They stripped her of everything and put her in rags.
"And what's wrong with him, huh?" Lokir inquires about Ulfic while Halle tries testing her bonds.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Halle snaps out of what she is doing. Stormcloak, the Stormcloaks. It dawns on Halle that Ulfric is no ordinary rebel beside her. Ralof's tone was angry, he has a deep respect for the silenced man. Halle's eyes narrowed at the thought of anyone revering this man.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you… Oh Gods, where are they taking us?" Lokir was just now realizing that they were on their way to their death. Ulfric the leader of the Stormcloaks, Halle understood why the Imperials didn't want any loose ends, like innocence.
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Ralof's voice was reverent and defeated. Halle leans further away from Ulfric. She's started to understand her dislike of him. She could tell that Ralof cared about the rest of them and even to a small degree Lokir cared about her too. But Ulfric's selfishness was becoming clear to her. She had always been good at reading people. Her parents thought it was tied to her natural magika ability, that she could see people's souls. It doesn't always work and sometimes it is just a feeling with no reason. But every second she sat next to Ulfric, with everyone's heightened emotions, she could see him in all his selfish glory.
"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening!" Lokir was being sent to his death for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Halle could relate.
"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" Ralof's voice calm and caring. Halle knew he is a good man, a man she would much rather follow than Ulfric.
"Why do you care?" The thief's speech was filled with accusation and anger.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." Home. If only Halle had one to think of. Her only home was her parents, the only constant in her life. But they are both gone now.
"Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead." Lokir visibly calmed as his thoughts turned toward home. To some memory of better times, now long gone.
"General Tullius, sir! The headman is waiting!" They have arrived outside a walled town. Gate wide open welcoming them to their fate. The wagon ambles in after the one in front of them into the town's open arms.
"Good. Let's get this over with." General Tullius seems almost as happy about this as Halle did. Good, she thought, at least he doesn't enjoy sending people to their deaths.
"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." Your prayers won't help you now thief. Your fate is in the hands of men now.
"Look at him, General Tullius the military governor. And it looks like the Thalamor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." Anger bubbled up inside the Nord, but it faded as recognition replaced it. Town streets lay behind the great walls, wooden homes protected by their mass. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." They still had that effect on Halle. Something about this place made her feel like this wasn't her day to die, but a sense of dread and death filled her.
"Who are they Daddy? Where are they going?" A small voice piped up over the sound of wheels on stone. Go inside boy, she pleads inside, this is not a sight you should see. Panic rises up inside her at the thought of a child witnessing a man's head come off, it was not something she wanted to think about. She had seen things as a child and she did not want the same to happen to this boy, these things change you forever.
"You need to go inside, little cub." Thank the Gods, a father who cares. Relief floods her. Listen to him, please.
"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers." The boy whines.
"Inside the house! Now!"
"Yes father." The cart nears the town square all ready for the executioners. Halle can't help but swallow at the sight of the block sitting in front of the tower. No matter what her heart is feeling, her mind knows there is no way to escape without killing all the guards and maybe some of the town's people. Without a weapon, only magic, no armor… impossible. She would never make it.
"Whoa!" The Imperial Soldier pulls back on the reins.
"Get the prisoners out of the cart! Move it!" The Captain bellows as the carts slow. She is gruff and Halle thinks that she may be what some would think about as the perfect soldier. No mercy, no pity, only rules and strength. Being her enemy would not be good for your health, something they were learning fast.
"Why are we slowing?" The desperation is evident on the thief's face, he is still hopeful this isn't happening.
"Why do you think? End of the line." Ralof looks at her and smiles. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us." She wants to say something back, but her throat feels too tight and all she can manage is a weak smile. With that he stands and follows the thief and Ulfric off the cart.
"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" Lokir yells as he exits the back of the wagon.
"Face you're death with some courage, thief." Ralof chastises. If only courage was that simple. He couldn't summon it out of thin air.
"You have to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" Pleading and begging, useless. Have dignity in your last minutes, you shouldn't have to die, but life is not fair. Halle thinks, pity filling her heart.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." The Captain announces with her air of authority. Halle feels her stomach drop as she peeks a glance at the block.
"Empire loves their damn lists." Halle almost laughed out loud. They are going to our deaths and Ralof is complaining that it's too orderly.
Hadvar stands next to the Captain holding a list of prisoner names. He has a face of sadness to for the task they are carrying out. He does not take this duty lightly. Halle notices that he and Ralof are similar honorable Nords, in a different world they might be friends. Her first impressions are rarely wrong. If he wasn't about to shuffle her to her death she would trust a man like him. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The Jarl steps forward and turns toward the block.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" Halle's expression sours, Ulfric should be honored to have Ralof by his side instead of the other way around. But she realized it doesn't matter anymore they would all be dead soon.
"Ralof of Riverwood." He steps forward and joins Ulfric. Halle now finally knows his name. "Lokir of Rorikstead."
"No! I'm not a rebel, you can't do this!" Lokir makes a break for the gate, running as fast as he can.
"Halt!" The Captain hollers in his direction. A warning that goes unheeded.
"You're not going to kill me!" He shouts back. Halle want to cry out for him to stop, but can't.
"Archers!" Without hesitation an arrow is loosed and buries itself into its target. Lokir crumples to the ground. Halle winces. Hadvar turns away from the sight a pained look on his face that mirrors her own. "Anyone else feel like running?" Challenges the Captain. Of course no one would try to run after that. Halle dislikes this woman every moment, her eyes are slits glaring at the Captain. More names are called as the Stormcloaks assemble near the block until Halle is the only one left.
"Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?" Hadvar asked her. She steps forward trying to emanate confidence.
"I'm Halle Light-Born." She says with confidence and poise, no one can tell how scared she is inside. These are the first words she has uttered since waking in that wagon.
"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman." He means these words, he feels sorry for the pretty young Nord standing before him. Her green eyes shining against the dirt on her face, light red hair still neatly braided along the sides with half of her hair tied back. He knew she was innocent, so did the others there, but that didn't make a difference today. He could try to appeal to the Captain, but his hopes weren't very high. "Captain. What should we do? She is not on the list."
"Forget the list. She goes to the block." Not even a hint of hesitation, no hard thought. The Captain sends Halle to her death without remorse. Halle wanted to shout, yell, anything to stop this, but she knows when to hold her tongue. Look at what good protesting did Lokir.
"By your orders, Captain. I'm sorry. At least you'll die here, in your homeland. Follow the Captain, prisoner." Her homeland, she had been born in Skyrim, but didn't remember it. Her family moved from place to place, with only her mother's stories of home, Skyrim. That is what brought her here to her execution, her mother's stories. She wanted to see the place her mother missed so much. Her mother never got to bring her back, but she thought she would go back herself.
General Tullius stands before the bound and gagged Ulfric staring him down. Ready to make his last words to his enemy.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero does not use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."
Ulfric tries to talk, but the only thing heard is a muffled grunts.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." A distant roar cuts through the eerie silence of this death march.
"What was that?" Hadvar asks as everyone looks around for the source.
"It's nothing. Carry on." General Tullius waves off the noise. But another roar answers.
"Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rights." She addresses a priestess wearing long robes and a hood. Her face is obscured and unreadable.
"As we commend your souls to the Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved…"
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." An impatient Stormcloak steps forward to the block, volunteering to be the first on the chopping block.
"As you wish." The priestess clearly annoyed by the interruption. A smirk snuck onto Halle's face. This Stormcloak was taking what little control he could have over his death, trying to die on his own terms.
"Come on, I haven't got all morning." He says. The Captain pushes him to his knees. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" The executioner lifts his axe and sends it down of the waiting Stormcloak's neck. His head separates from his body and falls into the awaiting basket.
"You Imperial bastards!" Yells a Stormcloak woman. Outrage pouring out of her.
"Justice!" Responds Vilod.
"Death to the Stormcloaks!" Chimes Ingrid.
"As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof humbly offers toward his fallen companion.
"Next, the Nord in the rags!" Yells the Captain, pointing at Halle. A sense of dread creeps over her. No, pick another. Another roar rings through the air. Everyone looks around again looking for the cause.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?' Everyone heard it, it couldn't be missed. The sound terrified Halle more than the body missing his head. A shiver ran through her spine, she knows something bad is coming.
"I said, next prisoner!" The Captain yells impatiently.
"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." Hadvar instructs her. Muscles tense in her to run, but her mind tells her that would be a death sentence. She remembers Ralof's words, courage. She takes a deep breath. She will face her death with dignity and grace, a nobler death than Lokir.
It is only steps to the block still smeared with fresh, wet blood. Red breaking the grey of the stone. Halle squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that when she opens them this will all be a dream, but as they open the gruesome scene still awaits. The Captain shoves her down to her knees causing a sharp pain radiating through her back. She inhales sharply, but before she can do anything else her head rushes toward the block as the Captain's metal clad hand pushes the small of her back down. The Captain is eager to see her dead and the only thought going through Halle's mind is she wishes that she could see the Captain, so that she can glare into the Captain's eyes as she dies.