So I have been playing Skyrim again recently and i have really been enjoying it. This has made me decide to write about my character and his adventures in the world. His name is Ash'Atarn and he is an Orc. I will be following the main story and some of the side quests so I will warn people now that there will be spoilers. I hope you all like it. Please feel free to review and let me know what you think.
Chapter 1: Helgen.
He heard the world coming back to him before he saw it. Fuzzy and in the distance he could hear them talking.
"Where are they taking us?" asked a worried voice.
"I don't know, but..Sovengarde awaits" said another as the voices became clearer.
"No that's not possible. I…I'm.."
Ash'Atarn blinked and sat up a bit straighter taking in the scene. The air was cold, it whipped some of his stray black hairs around his face. Most of his mid length hair was tied back in a high ponytail, stopping it from blocking his view of the situation he now found himself in. His yellow eyes darted from left to right observing the exchange between the others in the wooden cart as it made its way along the cobbled road pulled by a single horse. The man sitting in front of him was a human Nord. His dirty blonde hair lay messily across his face as he faced the man on his left.
"Where are you from horse thief?" asked the Nord.
The smaller man wrung his hands together and without looking to him he answered.
"R-r-rorikstead, I'm from Rorikstead. Why do you ask?"
The Nord nodded to him.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
Ash'Atarn agreed with this. His thoughts briefly turned to his home and his family before they were interrupted by the talkative man in front of him.
"Hey you, Orc. You're finally awake"
He nodded at this and shifted his jaw from side to side, still slightly sore from the fight it had taken to bring him down. His lip was cut. He licked the blood from the inside of his mouth, realising this wound must have come from a strike to the face; smashing his lip into his pointed tusk. He had smallish tusks as far as Orcs went. In place of where his eyebrows should be he had small spikes pointing out and a few similar spikes on top of his head positioned at his hair line. His brow furrowed as he remembered the encounter that had resulted in him being here in this cart.
"You were caught trying to cross the boarder right?" The Nord asked.
"Something like that." Nodded Ash'Atarn.
The thief suddenly interjected in their conversation. "You. You and I shouldn't be here. It's these damn Stormcloaks the Empire wants"
He nodded in agreement. The empire did want these Stormcloaks. That much was true. However being a Stormcloak wasn't the only reason to find your self in this situation, as he and the horse thief were evidence to.
Ash'Atarn grunted and looked away from the small dark haired human. He didn't know why the small man was here but he refused to listen to his snivelling. The thief sighed and wrung his hands together in the leather straps that bound them all. "Damn it. could have been half way to Hammerfell by now." He seemed to be getting more agitated as the cart rolled along the bumpy road. He looked up from his bound hands and to the man in front of him, the Nord to Ash'Atarn's left.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Hey" said the Nord across from Ash'Atarn" Watch your tongue! That's Ulfric Stormcloak. The true High King of Skyrim"
Turning to regard the man next to him Ash'Atarn saw a man who, by anyone's description looked like a true Nord. The man was middle aged and had a look about him like he had seen many battles. His blonde hair was sitting over his shoulders as he sat there proudly. Even in this situation he seemed like he knew no fear. Whether or not this was for show Ash'Atarn did not know. However he hardly cared, for the thing that seemed strangest about him was the fact that he was gagged as well as bound with leather straps on his hands.
Ash'Atarn looked away from him when the thief piped up.
"Ulfric? Jarl of Windehelm? Oh gods, where are they taking us?"
No one had an answer for that and it wouldn't have mattered as the guard shouted to them from the front of the cart. "Shut up back there!"
Ash'Atarn looked away from them all and down to his hands. They had tied the binding tightly, the knots were tied in an expert fashion. He twisted his hands to see if he could find any leverage. His muscle bulged and twisted as he tried to bend and break the hold they had on him. He used what strength he could without drawing too much attention to himself, which was still quite a fair amount of power in his arms.
Still he could not break them without alerting anyone. He sighed. These Imperials knew how to tie a knot it seemed. He would simply have to wait and see where the cart was going. He sat back against the bench as the cold air and specs of snow blew around him. He was in a tunic that was too small for him and it allowed an annoying amount of the chilling wind to get to his dark green skin causing his hair to stand on end for a few seconds each time the wind howled.
He didn't complain however. He had lived out in the open for most of his life as he his family had moved around. Well they had…not anymore. Remembering the events of the previous few days was unpleasant and he eyed the soldier driving the cart with anger as the memories swirled in his mind.
As the neared the bottom of the hill they approached a small fort. The doors opened and the cart rode in.
The Nord in front of him was peering over at a gathering of Imperials and elves.
"There's that damned General Tullius. Of course the Thalmor are with him. Should have known they would have a hand in this." Said the Nord with distain.
The gathering stopped their talking as the carts approached, eyeing the prisoners with sombre faces as they were taken past and down to what seemed to be the town square.
"Helgen." Said the Nord. He seemed to be the only one who felt like talking. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with be berries…" He trailed off as he looked around. People were starting to gather as the procession made its way down the small hill to the courtyard. Behind them General Tullius and his group of soldiers were keeping pace with the carts.
They came to a stop and the soldiers began to dismount. "why have we stopped?" asked the thief shakily.
The Nord stared at him and said "Why do you think? End of the line?" The doors at the back were opened. "Get out!" shouted the soldier. The Nord smiled slightly "Come on, don't want to keep the gods waiting."
Ulfric jumped down from the cart, landing on his feet with a grunt. The thief was next to jump down. His fortitude failed him it seemed as he crashed to the ground. He was yanked up by a soldier. The little man seemed almost frantic by this point, his eyes darted around to the soldiers, the citizens, the other prisoners and finally – the executioners' block.
The Nord jumped down as Ash'Atarn stood. He stretched his back for the first time in hours and he had to admit it felt good not to be hunched over on that bench. He smiled at the irony of feeling good at a moment like this when it seemed his head and body were going to be parting ways very soon. A couple of the guards looked at him with wide eyes as he finished his stretch. He was indeed an impressive warrior. He stood at almost 6ft 5' in height and his frame was well built from years of hard ship and training. His mother had taught him smithing from a young age and his father had long been a warrior. From their shared experience Ash'Atarn had grown into a shining example of an Orc.
He jumped down to the ground, landing gracefully considering his size. As they lined up an imperial started reading from a list.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."
"Empire loves their damn lists!" said the Nord with a frown on his face. He nodded to Ulfric" It has been an honour Jarl Ulfric!"
Lokir, the thief, stepped forward shaking with fear and with a glint of desperation in his eyes. "You can't do this, I'm not a rebel!" The man couldn't hold himself together any longer. He mad a dash for it knocking into the brown haired soldier with the list and sprinting past the Legate as she stood there.
"HALT!" she shouted. He did not stop he sprinted for all he was worth. She raised her hand "ARCHERS!"
Mad with adrenaline and fear he ran on. "You're not gonna kill me!"
The twang of several bowstrings and 3 arrows embedding themselves in his back quickly refuted the small mans claim as his momentum carried him off his feet and through the air with the force of the arrows. His body hit the hard stone floor. He however had the good fortune not to feel the impact. He was already dead.
The man lay dead and the Legate turned back to the remaining prisoners nodding for the soldier with the list to continue. He looked back down to his list and read.
"Ralof of Riverwood!"
The Nord, Ralof stepped forward. He shared a look with the soldier who was reading the list for a second and they both seemed to glared for just a few moments. Clearly they knew each other although in some way. This was as much as Ash'Atarn could glean from their encounter as neither gave away more in the few seconds they locked narrowed eyes.
As Ralof made his way to stand with the others they called him forward. "Next prisoner!" the Imperial looked down to his list and his eyes darted up and down for a moment. He stepped forward looking down as he loomed over the man who was not small by any account, but still shorter than the mighty and proud Orc.
"Wait…You're not on the list" the man lifted his head slightly to meet eyes with Ash'Atarn. He paused for a second then asked,
"Who are you?"
Looking into the mans eyes he could see the confusion as to why this Orc was here but not on the list. So Ash'Atarn spoke up.
"I am Ash'Atarn. A traveler in these parts. My family were making their way through on our way to Cyrodiil." He narrowed his eyes as he recalled the details, falling silent he looked away from the man. If the Imperial was waiting for more details he wasn't going to get them from him this day.
The soldier looked to the Legate "Captain what should we do? He's not on the list"
The legate turned from what she was doing and looked Ash'Atarn. She simply scoffed at him "List or no, he goes to the block."
The Man turned back and looked truly sorry as he sighed at the decision "I'm sorry, I'll see to it that you're remains are returned to Orsinium. Please follow the Captain." Ash'Atarn nodded to him and followed her over to the other prisoners. They were standing in lines just as General Tullius walked over to stand before Ulfric Stormcloak. Many of the Stormcloak prisoners and Imperial soldiers looked around nervously as they saw the General and the Jarl came face to face. It seemed that these men had a bitter rivalry that showed in the faces of the men who followed them.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some men call you a hero, but a hero does not use a power such as the Voice to murder their High King."
Ash'Atarn eyes widened slightly at this. He had heard news of someone killing the high king of this land but he didn't know anything about this Voice. The general continued his speech and condemed Ulfric for everything he had done. Starting the war, leading hundereds of soldiers against the Empire. In the end he walked of as Ulfric's eyes bore a hole in his back. All that was left now was the block.
They all turned to the Legate as she began to adress them. A priest stepped forward to join her and begin talking about the gods and how thier souls would be welcomed into the afterlife and blah, blah, blah. A Stormcloak stepped forward as she was talking and interupted "For the love of Talos, shut up and lets get this over with" The priest stopped her speech and looked slightly annoyed. "As you wish"
The priest walked off and the Stormcloak walked over to the block. The Legate stood behind him and forced him down to his knees and his head onto the block. The man smiled and turned his head to the excecutioner as he raised his massive axe "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same!"
With a gut renching slice the axe came down and decapitated the man.
"As fearless in death as he was in life" muttered Ralof next to him. Ash'Aturn had to agree, the man had faced his death with honour.
Suddenly a roar ripped though the air unlike anything Ash'Atarn had ever heard. Like a word being shouted and whispered at the same time. Roarded by an animal, yet spoken like a wise sage all at once. Everyone held their ears and looked to the sky but there was nothing. They all looked confused and scared. People were asking each other " What was that?" "Where did that come from?". The prisoners were still blinking to clear their heads due to the fact they had been unable to cover their ears with their hands bound.
The Legate had stopped looking around and was staring at the group. "Next prisoner, the Orc!". She pointed at Ash'Atarn, not that she would have needed to due to him being the only Orc there. He sighed and took a step forward and said.
"Time to go it seems"