A/N:(Just to understand what I plan on doing with this story) vitamin
My goal for this fanfiction is to almost make this into a BIG Canon and Non-Canon story.
Why? (If you're wondering why anyone should give a smuckers)
Because in my process of doing brainstorms and web ideas. A lot of research came by way and made me realize, I can't be the Harbinger, the Archmage, the Gray Fox/Guild Leader, the Listener and a Bard at the same time, and also Thane of all nine Realms/Regions, Collecting every daedric item and blah blah blah…yea it fanfiction and I have to know that! But come on…I'm not trying to create a Mary-Sue here.
That's too much for one character to go off selling their soul to all the 14 Daedric lords and having mission all over the place.
There a ton of stuff I will be dealing with. And I will list them off-
The Forsaken Quest.
The Civil War Quest.
Characters Background Stories.
Trivial Quest.
Dragon Shouts Locations. (ALL)
The Main Quest.
Common Quest.
Divine/Religious Quest.
DLC Quest (Dawnguard & Dragonborn)
Daedric Quest.
Creating three more characters and their stories. (COMING SOON!)
Relationships.
Location and Environment.
Time of travel and trying to loop everything in two years prior! (In-game not real life)
Battles.
Events.
Races.
NCP(Major/Minor and nobody NAMES)
Doing separate stories in General and making them all connect! (BEST IDEA SO FAR T-T)
Dragon War History and making up bullshit.
This is a lot of stuff to cover.
At first, it was going to be plain and simple about writing a fight between my character and Alduin. But I keep getting ideas, after ideas. Like the first time I was going to write about Felniira (My OC) was everything in Skyrim.
But after a few years of pondering and thinking, I realize how stupid that was…legit-ly. I watched a video about the Dragonborn and I had an epiphany.
Anyway, I started to have new ideas, which is why after I'm done finishing Felniira awakening the dragon soul inside her. I will begin writing about three more other characters…or four. I will introduce them later in the fic.
Also since most of you are wondering why I have Dragonborn and Alduin…it was to be a clash, not an (x)….BUT it has come to my attention! That is one of the main reason we read those stories. I'm not being a hypocrite. My favorite story so far is Faas Aaz. Yes, I do read the others one and I do follow them. But Faas Aaz will be my number one for DragonbornF/Alduin.
In other words…I will place one single fluff in here! POVs For you those guys, who also like crack-couple, odd-couple, villain x heroine for the hell of it. I'm just lying to myself…there probably going to be more than one…but that later in the story…probably way later…unless someone votes I do that separate….single…
:\
ANYWAY
#ShitNGiggles everyone! 3
Enjoy
Review or don't Review. It doesn't matter to me. All I like to see are the views itself.
Okay! Okay
ok :3
Elder Scrolls V Skyrim: The Awakening
Chapter One:
Escaping the Hells of Helgen
Declaimer:
I don't own any of the Bethesda Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim characters mention in this fanfiction as we already know. The name I am currently using is of the dragon language. Felniir means 'winter' and I only place the 'a' as long vowel to use. I didn't just want to use felniir, so I placed it as Felniira so I can get that 'ra'…okay whatever :\
Summary:
From the very beginning, Felniira Storm-Wind wasn't on a quest for glory, or even the thrill of adventure. The rumors of war raging in the North, did not intrigue the young woman to follow the many footsteps of the men and women, who went to fight for honor or against the oppression in the homelands of the Nords.
Instead, Felniira follows a ghost trail of her father who vanish four years ago, unseen or heard of again. Along the way to southern borders, she and another were caught in ambush sprang by the Imperials. Her companion mostly likely killed in the cross fire. She is lead to execution block, but the foreign Nord nearly escapes death, and is she given a destiny chosen by the Gods to stop the war wage against brothers, and defeat the World-Eater who has once again risen an army to destroy all of Nirn.
The dark world was fading…and the sound of life echoes in the prisoner's ear.
Bumps on the cobblestone road, cause the rebel's wagon to jolt roughly.
The female prisoner's head is thrown forward from the railing board she's been resting on. A groan is heard as the prisoner's eyes slowly opens. Squinting her vision, she blinks a couple of times trying to focus her blur vision. Moving uncomfortably from the spot where she sat, a hiss escapes her lips as her head throbs in pain. Reaching her hand up to gentle caress the spot that pains her the most. The woman realizes both her hands were bound tightly together by leather straps.
A mutter escapes her lips in confusion. "What the-"
Suddenly, cold wind of the Jerall Mountain blows against her naked skin that was not covered by her fur cloak. Her body shutters once she felt the painful nips of frost. Trying to hold her own shoulder for warmth. The woman was shocking that she was wearing a thin layer of ragged clothing. Her face blushed embarrass and angry that some dare changes her while she was unconscious. The wind blow harder and more mercilessly. The potato sack she wore did nothing to keep her warm. Wiggling her toes, even her boots where gone.
Glancing up from her spot.
She notices that she in a wagon full of other people.
Shutting her eyes tightly. Her painful memories brought back the event that had unfolded maybe not too long ago of what had happened.
Quickly, scanning the cart; there's a soldier, a lord and another man, dressed the same ragged clothes as she.
"Where am I?" The woman thought out loudly.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake." A voice stated.
Across from her was the soldier.
The woman couldn't tell who he was, or where he hail from.
She was lost in thought, struggling to get any bearing on understanding to where she was.
"You were trying to cross the board, right?" The soldier simply implies as he could probably tell she wasn't from Skyrim.
"Y-yes," The woman replied. Thinking back, she and another Nord stood outside the Gate of the Pale Pass. No border guards where present and it seem their passage document to address they have permission to enter, Skyrim. Was meaningless, since no one was there to give them too.
The woman scans again, only to the other cart ahead of theirs.
Where is he? The woman thought.
"Walked right into that Imperial ambush." The soldier scold to himself, of the event that taken place. "Same as us, and the thief over there." The soldier gestures to left of him.
She glances to the third man. The thief had a look of anger, and quickly throw a sneer at the soldier beside him.
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along." The thief scowl. "The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell."
The thief turns his attention to her. His expression still distasteful, towards the soldier but the man seem to want to continue the argument by involving her.
"You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." The thief points out.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The soldier calmly says, practically ignore the thief expression.
"Shut up back there!" The Imperial guard orders the lot.
The thief frowns deeply annoyed. Turning his attention to the man, seat in front of him. The thief notices the gagged covering his mouth.
"What's wrong with, him?" he asked bluntly.
"Watch your tongue!" The soldier snaps, "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High king."
The Thief turns his head back to the soldier. His eyes filled with disbelief.
"Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl of Windhelm." The thief nearly chokes on his word.
He eyes returns slowly to the Lord. His jaw drops in shock.
Feeling lost in the conversation between the two, she didn't know any names of Jarl's in Skyrim or which hold they rule. She gazes at the Lord in question. Why was a Jarl in some dirty prison cart? Shouldn't he be riding some majestic horse or sitting on some throne to show his authority?
The Jarl of Windhelm felt the stares, his eyes had no emotion, not even regret.
"The leader of the rebellion." The thief mutter.
The thief who was shocked, began to glare at Jarl. But his stare didn't go unnoticed as the Jarl felt his hate and glanced up at the thief. The stare-down did not last long. The thief's mind started to process the information given.
"If they capture you...oh god, where are they taken us?" The thief's voice began to panic.
Lower down the mountains, the fidget air was becoming much cooler. The morning fog started to lift, and the prisoner looks ahead to see a village's gate coming into view.
Trying to think hard about her current knowledge of Skyrim. A lump of fear forms in the back of her throat as she tries to swallow it down.
Gossip and rumors spread thin in Cyrodiil, but most of the rumor spoke of a civil war going on in Skyrim. A war that involves the province tearing themselves apart from within its borders.
Once she began putting two and two together.
As if the thief had read her mind. He began to struggle with his binds.
She hears him hiss in pain as the leather starts to rub hardly on his skin.
"I don't know where we are going, but Sovngarde awaits." The soldier spoke softly.
Her breath hitched.
"No this can't be happening. This isn't happening" Thief shouts. He begins biting at his wrist to free himself of the binding, but he pulls back he got a good snip at his own flesh. "OW!"
"Don't be a fool." The prisoner snaps sternly to the thief.
The thief flinches at the woman's voice, looking at her with fear in his eyes.
"Any attempts off escaping would only lead you to death faster."
What am I saying? I'm just as scared as the thief. The woman thought shamefully.
The thief stops trying to break his bind and instead lowers his head down and began praying. He whispers quickly and said only seven names of the divines and the Nordic God Shor.
The awkward silence settles in the wagon.
"Hey, what village are you from horse thief." The soldier asked.
"Why would you care?" The thief spat.
"A Nord's last thought, should be of home?" The soldier said calmly.
Thief look unpleasant by the conversation. The man's family did came to mind, even the beautiful lass who shot him down. That little farm village wasn't as grand like Solitude, or Mighty like Whiterun, but it was his home while he could still remember.
"Rorikstead...I'm from Rorikstead." He said, staring down at his feet.
"And you?" The Soldier spins the question to her.
"The White Peaks." She answers solemnly.
The wagons travel through the village.
Men, women, and children a-like, looked upon the soldiers and prisoners as they grow nearer to the execution block station outside the Fortress.
Mothers and fathers wisp their children inside their homes, knowing what is going to take place here.
Sitting and waiting in silent. Only the thief searches around the village, looking into the eyes of many and hopes that at less one of them would notice only two of the people weren't Stormcloaks.
Once the wagon came to halt. The thief asked they stopped.
"What do you think? End of the line." the soldier tells the man. "Let's go. We shouldn't keep the gods waiting."
The soldier stood up to follow by the Jarl and the prisoner. The thief who was still seated was pulled out of the wagon by one of the Imperial and was thrown to the ground.
With a grunt, the thief held his hands up in defense.
"Wait, please I'm not a rebel!" he cried.
The Imperial pulls the man to his feet and pushes him towards the female prisoner.
She growls and shoves the thief into the soldier who quickly caught him.
"Face your death with courage, thief." The soldier said to the thief.
The horse thief faces the other man with more fear in his eyes.
"This is a mistake! Tell them we're not with you," he begs.
Waiting into two separate groups. The Imperial soldiers quickly stood in front and behind the traitors. One of the soldiers, a woman wearing heavy armor, stood in front of the four prisoners. She had a more intimidating look, and must been commander as she orders them to take the prisoners to the block one by one, after their names were call of the broads.
"Imperial love their damn list." The soldier said humorlessly.
The prisoner glanced at the man and notice his eyes were concentrated on the imperial hold the board. It may not have been her business, but she could very well say that the soldier knows that man.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. The Jarl of Windhelm." The man called out.
The Jarl glances over his shoulder meeting the eyes of his soldier then walks over to a group of stormcloaks awaiting their deaths.
"It's been an honor. Jarl Ulfric!" The soldier praised.
"Ralof of Riverwood."
She glancing to her right. The soldier didn't look at her, as his eyes harden. The man named- Ralof, steps forwards and doesn't bother looking at the man holding the list. But just by looking at the intensity both men were showing. She was right about them knowing each other,
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
Immediately the thief named- Lokir jumps and rushes forward begging for his life to be spared.
"Wait! I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" Lokir screamed.
Suddenly, he started to run.
"Halt!" The imperial woman orders the thief.
Lokir doesn't stop.
"Archers!"
One of the guards quickly pulls out an arrow and pulls the string back.
The arrow wiz through the air before it struck into Lokir's back.
His body fell to the ground, twitching until his last breath.
"Anyone else feels like running?" The Imperial woman warns the Stormcloaks.
The man who was holding the board. Noticed that Lokir was the last name on the list. He looks up to see another prisoner, a woman, staring at the now dead body.
When she noticed his gaze. Her eyes held a look of pleading mercy.
"You there, step forward." He orders the prisoner. "Who are you?"
Will her name even matter?
"I am Felniira Storm-Wind, " She said her name. I am innocent, I have no crimes hold against me. This i a just misunderstanding.
"And where is it you hail from Storm-Wind?"
"The White Peaks village in Cyrodiil."
The imperial soldier's eyes examined the prisoner's nationality. She had trademarks most common to all Nords of Skyrim. Fair light skin, a height most average for women in Skyrim. Blue eyes that were paler then most. A winter's child. Should on guess her birth. Everything seem to be in check except for her hair. The prisoner's hair wasn't that of a fair blonde, like the sun. Or the color red, like crimson blood. Not even a dark brown, similar to that of the pine bark. Hell, it wasn't even pale like sunlight. There was no color to describe the woman's hair expect for snow. Completely stark mess of hair hanging below the woman's shoulders,
"You pick a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman." The imperial solider implied.
Immediately, as much as she wanted to say she was no kinsman. Felniira pushed it a side and crosses her fingers. The soldier did not write her name or village on the list so she prays to the Divine Stendarr to bring mercy upon her for this misunderstanding.
"Captain, she is not on the list." The man inquires to his captain.
"Forget the list, Hadvar. She goes to the block." The Imperial Captain said in a bored tone.
"By your order, Captain." The man named- Hadvar said somewhat a disappointment.
Squeezing her hand into a fist, Felniira tries and steps forward, but was stopped by a couple of soldiers. They grab her by her arms and shoulder.
Felniira's cold eyes blazed.
"You bitch." Felniira spat at the woman.
One of the Imperial soldiers immediately punches her across the face. Felniira cries out in the pain, before being dragged to be with the others.
"Next time hold your tongue, Prisoner!" An imperial soldier shouts in her ear.
"I'm sorry. At less you'll die here, in your homeland." Hadvar said solemnly.
This isn't her homeland….her home in back with her mother and brother.
Felniira was quickly shoved into Ralof, who easily caught her, even if his hands were bonded together.
Standing in the crowd of at less eight Stormcloak soldiers.
The Jarl stood in front, his back straighter, his head held high with his stubborn pride.
Stepping out from the Fortress, was an old and sturdy looking man followed by more soldiers and a Priestess of Arkay. The old man wore armor that look to be made of the finest Imperial leather, gold and moonstone plates.
The Imperial soldiers came to attention and the Captain immediately marches forward to address the high ranking Commander.
"General Tullius." The Captain addresses. "We await your order to execution these traitors."
The General barely glances at the crowd of rebels, but his hard eyes looked upon the Jarl of Windhelm. Almost triumphantly.
Stepping away from the Captain. He strolled before the Stormcloaks rebels, his eyes meeting each of the men and woman who rebel against the Empire. The Stormcloaks troops hissed and growl and one daringly spat at his feet. The General didn't say anything, he held his hand up as steel was unsheathed.
Keeping silent, he stops in front the Jarl. Their eyes burned at each other and nothing was said between them.
Felniira stared in-between the heads of men. She notices that the general was a foot shorter than the Jarl.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero." The general booms his voice, "But a hero doesn't use power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."
Ulfric responds with only a muffled grunt.
Tullius's eyes harden and his jaw clenched.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."
Suddenly, the intensity breaks.
A sound in the distance let out a strange cry, all eyes quickly search up to the sky.
"What was that?" One Imperial soldier spoke out loudly.
Far off, some of villagers looked over their houses and business to guess where the call came from.
Barely a moment passed and General Tuillius looked at the fools, shaking his head.
"It's was nothing," General Tullius advert the crowd's attention, "Carry on, Captain."
"Yes, Gerenal Tullius." The Captain said. She stood to attention, arm crossed over her chest then turns to the waiting priestess.
"Give them their last rites." She orders.
The priestess nod and steps forward, raising her arms, she spoke aloud the pray of death and crossing.
"As we commend your soul to Aetherius. Blessing of the eight Divines upon you, for you ate the calt earth of Nirn, our beloved-"
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" A red-headed Stormcloak quickly cuts in the pray. The Stormcloak step forward to the block.
No one stopped him or got in his way.
The proud nord stood tall, full of courage.
The priestess who was interrupted, restrain the dirty look that she was about give to the man.
"As you wish." She replies coolly.
"Come on, I haven't got all morning." The nord barked.
The Captain steps behind the Stormcloak. She grips her hand onto his shoulder, pushing him down to his knees. The sound of his knees hitting the dirt sounded most uncomfortable, but no doubt, no one cared. The Captain processed to place her foot onto his back, pushing him onto the block itself. The Stormcloak, hissed when his neck hit the stone block. Turning his head to the side, he stares up from the corner of his eye, smirking at the Captain.
"My ancestor are smiling upon me, can you say the same thing about yours!"
The Captain sneers. Raising her hand. She drops her hand down swiftly just as the executioner's ax fell.
Felniira did not think to blink or close her eyes. Her stomach twisted more tightly in disgust and fear.
There wasn't as many gasp or involuntary shock heard as the man's head fell into the basket below.
"You Imperial bastards!" The only female Stormcloak cried out in anguish. The woman tries pushes through the cluster of troops, but was stop by her other comrades struggling to hold her back.
Civilians who watched the execution cried out and cursed the Stormcloaks troops.
"Justice!" "Death to the Stormcloak!"
"As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof stated the man's courage.
Felniira turns to Ralof, then looked back at the dead body.
The Captain's eyes searches among the rebels then stop and sneers at Felniira.
"Next, the Nord in the rags!" The Captain orders, pointing her finger to the foreign Nord
"Show no fear." Ralof whispers.
Unlike the Stormcloak who marched out, two imperial walked up to her, grabbing each side of her arms roughly. They pulled her out from the crowd of traitors to be executed. Felniira thought she could easily fight back, drag her heels into the ground to struggle against her captors hold. But all will be useless as death seem to welcome her with open arms.
While her thoughts ran rapidly with plans of escape.
The imperial soldiers stop dead in their tracks.
Once again, the same strange eerie noise was heard again. Only it sound closer and a bit louder than before.
"There it is again." Hadvar pointed out.
"I said 'Next Prisoner!'" The Captain growls.
"To the block prisoner. Nice and easy." Hadvar informs her calmly.
Near the wagons, the horses started to nay fearfully. Their hoofs clicked on the ground hard, as if scared of something.
Ignoring the four-legged animal's cries. Felniira felt herself being marched forward again and doesn't even bother to look at the Captain. She is let go, and turns willingly to the block.
Like the previous soldier that stood bravely before her, the Captain did not make it easy for her to be pushed down onto her knees. Her neck hits the hard stone, scraping some of the skin. Felniira felt the full weight of the Captain's boot on her back, holding her down in place on the execution block.
The headless body of the Stormcloak laid dead next to her. She shutter knowing full well her knees were drowning in the warm sustains of blood. The urge to vomit was at high, but her throat was already being to choke in fear.
Echoes of the horses' loud cries faded from reality. The sound of their trampling hoofs, jumping to free themselves became a white noise, like every other else now around her.
"Silent those horses!" General Tuillius's voice orders.
Her heart was fluttering, sweat and a single tear rolled down her face as she prays.
"Kynareth, please guide my soul on the winds to Sovngrade. Stendarr show me mercy for my crimes I may or may not have commit. Should I fail my honor and duty as a Nord. Then I beg for Shor forgiveness upon my soul."
Just then as axe began to raise. A boy maybe of thirteen summers ran with all his might through the main street of Helgen.
"Mama!" A boy yells.
"Jargin!? Where is your brother?" A boy's mother demanded.
Felniira slowly turns her head to look up at the executioner. The sun blinded her eyes, but she was able to make out the man wielding the steel battle axe. 'So this is how I shall die...' her last thought rang throughout her mind. An unfair death which she had done nothing to deserve. Memories and images of her life flashes before her eyes.
"What happen? Why are you all dirty?" The mother asked.
"We saw...no...It saw us! We tried running back but it follow!" The boy pants.
"Saw you? What saw you?"
The slowly the axe rose higher and higher. Her heart raced faster. When she was about to close her eyes- something behind the mountain catch her attention. A shadow flew pass the sun, and the wind blew to the speed of a fierce storm.
Roar!
"What is Oblivion is that?" General Tullius burst in a shout.
The sky mysterious darken, as clouds rolled in out of nowhere.
Villagers scream and ran quickly into their homes or out on the streets, scattering like ants. Soldiers back a way, loading their bows and unsheathing their swords. Some horses managed to broke loose from their holds and gallop to escape the terror that they long sense coming.
"Sentries, what do you see!?" The Captain calls to the soldier line the wall.
Before the man could answer, one of the villager cried out mythical creature's name.
"Dragon!"
The Captain focused her attention up, her foot was no longer on prisoner's back.
A large black winged dragon, roar before landing atop the Imperial watch tower. The ground quakes violently causing everyone to fall or stumble back. The stones of the tower cracked under the weight of the creature.
Felniira still bent on her knees, stared at the dragon. Her fear paralyzed her body from moving. 'This can't be real…this can't be real….this can't real.'
The entire village went immediate uproar of shock and terror.
The dragon's eyes observes the small humans below. Its red eyes glares at every mortal who squander about, trying to get away.
As Felniira continues to stare at the dragon, she notices its scales were bleeding, as if it had been in battle recently.
Immediately, the executioner held up his ax and the dragon took the sight of it as its first threat. The dragon blasted a powerful power at the man, sending him back.
Shattering bone could be hear as the man was kill in an instant.
More scream erupted as hell broke loose.
Still, bend down trap inside her own body. Felniira never felt such a powerful force, it was as if something was flooded her body, forcing its way through her to the other side.
The dragon roar again, aiming it maw to the sky. Another loud thundering call ranged in the ears of all the mortals.
The sky turn from a storm into a red vortex of doom.
Raining fire fell from the sky behind the black creature.
It look was complete image of an apocalypse.
More than ever did people ran and scatter themselves to escape the plundering meteors falling from the sky. Those who tried to hide in their home had their houses either collapsed or set a flame by the fire from above.
It was utter chaos.
While this was going on. Felniira's eyes didn't move from the dragon. She prayed it did not see her as her breaths were quiet and shallow. But she prays were ignored as her breath hitched when the dragon turns it head to face her. She could not tell, nor notice that she was the only one still there. Unmoving.
She did not scream in blood or fear. She did not move to run in terror. This woman, so daringly stayed right where she was, awaited her death to be killed by other mortals than the creature that sat atop the high watch tower.
The black dragon made eye connect with her, staring her down with piercing red eyes. All color in her cheeks turns white as her eyes widen.
In the briefest of moments, the dragon seem to concentrate itself on her. Only her.
The amber eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, the dragon calls again the same force of power from before and aims directly at Felniira's entire form. The sheer power it wielded threw her meters away from the chopping block. She bounces only once, and rolls to a complete stop. Felniira gasps and struggles to get any air into her lungs. She couldn't move, it was too painful as every muscle in her body was pulsating. She was then startled when she was suddenly grab from behind and was pulled to her feet.
"Hey, kinsman. Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" The man yells in her ear.
Trying to look at whoever grabbed her. They let her go and then navigates their way one of the other watch towers.
Felniira wasn't quick to follow after them as she had to dodge the raining meteors, still pouring from the sky. Whoever was trying to save her already enter the tower, waiting on her to reach the shelter.
Struggling to keep her balance, Felniira's path was blocked when a meteor most her hit. She fell back on her ass before getting up again.
When she was just barely a foot away from the door. A hand immediately reaches out to grabs her and pulls her inside the tower.
Dropping to the floor to catch her breathe. Her body ache in terrible pain.
The stormcloak, quickly slams the door.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof exclaims, leaning heavily against the door.
The Jarl of Windhelm torn the gag off his mouth and throw the cloth to the ground.
"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric said in a calm and stern tone.
Barely throwing a glance at the Jarl, Felniira felt outraged about the fact that this man can seem so calm. How? Especially in a time like this! Felniira thoughts cried, as she tries to gain her breath.
Inside the tower, there were only five Stormcloaks, including Ralof himself.
One woman curled against the wall, covering a bloody wound. Felniira observes the wound, narrowing her eyes, she can tell that wasn't from the falling rock or any debris. That wound was either caused by a sword or small blade.
Crashes and screams could still be heard, the dragon's bloodthirsty roar bellows wildly outside the tower. Everyone was startled when the tower shake and rock began to break and fall from the ceiling and walls.
"This towers going to crumble!" One of the Stormcloak yells.
"We have to move, now!" Ulfric ordered the Stormcloak.
"Up the stairs, carry the wounded if you must, but we must find another way out of here!" Ralof gave out commands to the other inside the tower.
Still shaken up by the whole situation, Felniira was first to climb the stairs. Though gravity was against her, she climbed faster than most and was on the second level. Reaching the second landing, she noticed another Stormcloak digging his way through the rubble.
By the nine! Felniira shouts inwardly. Walking onto the landing she calls to the Stormcloak getting his attention.
"Hey, is there another way throu-" She was cut off. To the right of her, the cobblestone wall was bashed open and the dragon's head appeared inside the tower. Large rubble of debris flew at Felniira's side knocking her down. A long ringing echo in her ears, muffling out the cries of Ralof's voice calling her to move.
Groaning in the short amount of pain she was in, her vision was blur in by the falling specks of dust surrounding and choking her air. She coughs, but by doing so, her entire right side spasm in sharp pain. The dragon's rumbling growl caught her attention, snapping her eyes up, again she was pin in fear unable to move. The black monster tilts its head, rearing back, ready to snap its maw inside the tower to feast on her flesh.
Wanting to close her eyes and let Arkay decide her fate then and there. The stormcloak before her pulls out his dagger and went in front of her to face the dragon, it was enough time for Ralof to use the distraction and quickly grabs a hold of Felniira's arm, pulling her away.
The dragon opens its maw, sounding its terrible roar before letting out a belly full of hot burning flames upon the soldier.
Ralof shield Felniira's body with his.
Felniira closes her eyes and cringed her teeth, the feeling of her skin beginning to overheat and burn, all while listening to a man scream in agony. Thankfully the horror of the man's cries didn't last long after the flames stopped.
The dragon pushed itself off the tower making the walls trembles once the monster was gone, no doubt flying elsewhere to burn and feed on any who still has not escaped Helgen.
Once the smoke cleared, all that was left of the stormcloak soldier was a charred corpse wearing nothing, but armor cinder to ashes and iron chains melted to his burnt body.
Felniira was pulled to her feet. She hisses and clenches her jaw even tighter, holding back the obvious shout that groan involuntarily in her throat.
"Are you all right? Is anything broken?" Ralof question in a way of commanding, as if he was ordering another soldier, wondering if he still swing a sword than concerned about his health. Felniira knew, weakness wasn't going to option.
"No, nothing's broken." She somewhat lied. It hurts to breathe, but there's no time to examine herself or others while all hell as broken loose.
Ralof lips thinned. Turning his attention away from her, he looks out the hole, scanning the area.
"See the inn on the other-side?" Ralof points down, "Jump through the roof and keep going!" He orders everyone in the tower. Felniira tries her best to stand up straight, clenching her fist, her nails were biting into the palm of her hand. She was doing everything she can to keep a calm demeanor while in her entire body was in complete pain. Struggling to control her steady breathing, she hears Ralof ask. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yes, just move a side," Felniira told the soldier.
Having a running start. She leaped over the gap.
Time has slowed, as her body was falling right thought smoke and ash, hoping that something would catch her to ease the pain of the fall. Instantly, she can feel them, those hungry eyes of that monster.
Felniira lands on plank floorboard tucking into roll. Another mistakes was made as a shockwave of pain went straight-up from her feet once she stops herself. Holding her stomach, she lets out a shuttering moan. Turning to look over her shoulder, she see Ralof about to run and jump. He make a brutally stop when the dragon swoop down between the two buildings.
A gust of hard wind blew over the inn, whipping ashes into the air, nearly blinding Felniira who block the small dots with her binded hands. Parts of the hay roof were once again catching fire and was quickly starting to spread at dangerous rate.
"Keep going!" Ralof's voice yells.
Having no other choice, but to obey his command.
She struggles to move quickly across the second floor, trying to search for the stairs.
"Shit!"
There was none.
Thick black smoke was building at an alarming rate.
Time was running out. She had to duck lower to the floor, coughing and wheezing to breathe. The heat was boiling her skin to first-degree burn.
Through the thick smoke and fire falling above, she quickly crawls and barely make it thought the hole in the floorboards. Falling onto her shoulder, she cries out before struggling to get to her feet and escapes through the side entrance of the inn.
Both smoke and cinder filled her lungs as she barely makes outside.
Dropping to her knee, she coughs and tries to breathe in whatever fresh air there was outside.
Her head rears upwards, and her mind went into completely numb.
Hell was all she saw.
He should have known something wasn't right. When that strange noise call came from nowhere, fire erupted from the sky and fierce storm like no other; torn and turned the entire village completely into hell from Oblivion. Everywhere he had look, people where dying. He and other guards and soldiers did everything they could to get the people too safety, but no matter where anyone ran that monster in the sky was always there; killing and destroying every hope of escape.
"This isn't good. At this rate, the whole village will be nothing but ashes." The man hollers over the loud burning house next to them. "Hadvar, we have to get out of here. We need to head to the Keep! It's the only safest place here!"
"I have my order, Gunner. Unless you can make it yourself, I can't go anywhere until I have found more survivors" Hadvar yells, still turned away hoping to spot anyone still trying to escape.
He scanned the street for anyone who have taken shelter or is cowering from the monster above. Both the soldier and man were baffle when a loud explosion accrued not far. Searching over the Inn, the black wing dragon held itself against the tower, breathing in belly full of fire into the tower itself. Hadvar turns away, he can hear more loud agonizing screams fills the air.
It awful knowing and not knowing, who's those scream might have once belonged too.
Glancing back, he thought he saw someone or something jump into the Inn across the tower. He couldn't tell who or what it was, but he saw in the hole, wearing the enemy armor was none other than Ralof.
"He still alive?" Hadvar said in almost disbelief.
'Will he survive?' He suddenly shakes his head of such foolish thought.
Why should he care about that traitor? To think they were once friends long ago before this war ever began. Just two young boys growing up, dreaming and wishing to be guards or soldiers to fight in wars, battle and against bandit raids on their small village. Those were hard experience, the challenges of living in Skyrim. Either live by your trait or died defending it.
Between glaring and struggle back the worrisome. He suddenly sees Ralof about to jump into the Inn below, but he stop in his tracks, pulled back by other brothers, traitors to Skyrim. The dragon returns cutting in-between the Inn and tower. He could not believe he held his breath for that single moment.
The Inn roof caught a flame.
"Hurry, Haming."
Looking back at the burning street. The mercenary Torolf and his son, cautiously made their way through the street. The man was kept looking up and back to his son. Suddenly, the man shoves the boy away.
"Papa!" The boy shrieks.
It was the exactly like the executioner, a strange powerful force sent Torolf's body back. His bones could be heard breaking as he hit the ground like a ragdoll, rolling and flipping until his body finally stop. Torolf's son yells and runs to his side.
Hadvar complete shock, as the man was still alive.
"Torolf!" Gunner shouts.
"No!" Hadvar grabs the other man's shoulder, "They're completely out in the open!" he points out, warning the risk of foolish action.
"He's my little brother- he's still alive! Get off me damn it." Gunner fought against him. Struggling to hold the man back, Gunner stops as he hears the boy cries. "-Haming!"
"Papa get up!" The boy begs.
The dragon fearsome roar above.
A white fear cover Gunner face as him slowly cower close to the wall. He couldn't bring himself out into the streets.
"Haming, you need to get over here." Hadvar raised his voice.
The young boy glances back at Hadvar. Trying to beckoning the boy to get away.
Another thundering blast roar in the sky, the boy cowers over his father trying to protect him from the monster flying in the sky above his once home.
"Don't look up!" Hadvar orders. Haming faces the soldier, the boy's eyes pleading to help his father. "Just focus on me."
"Get off the road boy!" Gunner barks, behind him, more afraid than ever before in his entire life.
Haming turns back to his father.
"Get up! Papa, get up!" The boy screams repeatedly to his father.
"I'm done for little cub. Go-…Run for it..." Torolf rasps out urgently.
Right above the dragon could be seen circling.
"Haming! You need to get over here. Now!" Hadvar yells.
Haming slowly got up, his shoulder can be seen shaking as he steps away from his father.
"You can do it. Just walks towards me, good, Haming. You're doing fine." Hadvar spoke in calm voice. The boy a few meter away, when suddenly a terrible gush of wind had Hadvar shield his eyes.
The dragon landing had dirt and stone flutter away, clouding the boy and father.
Haming fall back on his hands. Snot and tears run down the boy's face, he cry out and the dragon answer him with a deaf wrenching roar.
"Haming!"
If only he had a bow and arrow! Hadvar didn't want to lose any more lives. Too many have already died because of this creature. Pray to the Divines for a miracle!
"ARG!"
A rock flew pass Hadvar's head, hitting the dragon in the snout
Hadvar looked behind him to see who had thrown the rock, but quickly his attention goes back to the boy. Realizing he has only a mere second to get the boy out of there. He screamed
"Haming!"
The boy snapped out of his trance and quickly runs to Hadvar.
"That's it, son…make me proud." Torolf's spoke his last words as the dragon had breaths a full belly of flames.
Catching the boy in his arms, he turns them away from the fire. Haming latch himself on Hadvar.
Hadvar groans feeling the heat of the dragon's fire. Even though it wasn't touching him. It was so hot, he can feel the stinging of burns forming on his neck, arms and legs.
The dragon takes flight leaving another dead corpse in its wake.
Once it was safe to look around, he was inwardly shock to see the prisoner still alive.
When the dragon came out of nowhere. He thought for sure she was dead, after watching her being hit by the shattering power.
"Still alive, prisoner?" Hadvar states.
She was able body, maybe, just maybe, she could be of use.
It was fools bet to trust a complete stranger, especially one who was about to get their head chopped off.
"Keep close to me if you want to stay that way."
The woman looked at him untrustingly, but pushed it a side coming to the sense that it just a waste of time, especially with a dragon wanting to kill you.
"Gunnur, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense." Hadvar lets the boy go. Gunner was the boy's uncle, so the boy took comfort in the man's arms. "You know where to go."
"Gods guide you, Hadvar." Gunnur prayed.
Hadvar looked at prisoner and moved his head to follow.
Both ran through the pits of hell. Rocks, beams, and large stone liter the streets while the fire still rages on.
A foul smell of burnt flesh, reeked from the houses that crumbled. Dying screams and scream of terror can be heard from every direction.
Hadvar lead them down back ally. He notices a large house to the next of them ready to collapse.
"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar called behind him. Reaching the corner, he pulls out his sword searching the skies.
"Hadvar!" An Imperial soldier called down short ally that lead to the main street.
"Emon! Where's General Tuillius?" If anyone can save these people, it would be the General.
Right above them, the dragon lands on the wall, the hooks on the dragon's wings crushed and crack the rocks into two.
Ermon tries reaching back to grab an arrow.
"Look out!" He shouts.
Hadvar was unexpectedly pushed back against the same wall of the dragon by the prisoner. Hadvar stares a head, his mouth opens speaking in silent as his friend was engulf in the white flames. The heat coming off the flames, dried the sweat upon his brow and even force him to close his eyes.
"NO!" Hadvar screams.
Once the fire stop, the dragon pushed itself off the wall to take flight again.
Reopening his eyes, Hadvar stared in shock, his hand reach out to his once friend and comrade. A blacken corpse, shrivelled up in armor now lies where his friend once stood.
Emptiness in his heart was swelling, he had no voice to cry or even say the man's name. Not even his mind can echo the words.
Still standing there, pushed up against the wall, the prisoners steps away from him. He would have thought that she did that in order to his give him room to step away as well, to breathe, or to accommodate of had just happen. But he was wrong, the woman begins make her own dash, rushing over the burnt ground and corpse. Realizing this, Hadvar swear to himself, feeling betrayed by the selfish act.
"Wait!" He hollers, quickly chasing after the woman.
The short ally to the main street was suddenly block, as the roof to the right of them began to collapse.
"Look out!" He called out to her.
The woman gasps, she skids to a complete stop in time before burning hay and ember beams crashed right in front of her.
Hadvar reached his hand up to grab hold of her shoulder. Inches away from capturing her, she turns around, and suddenly Hadvar's entire body froze.
Barely in that brief moment had they looked into each other's eyes. A chain reaction happen between the two of them. Her own fear, strike him so quickly, his mind was in the mist of black and white. A world of winter and fear.
A claps of thunder rang across the sky. The sword in his hand, flew from his grips, his eyes remained on the woman and watched the same strange power that killed the executioner in one blow; broken every bone in Torolf body with a single hit.
The woman eyes wide as her body began to contort being pushed to the ground.
Hadvar thought this was the end, as both his vision and hear were consumes in complete whiteness.
"What are doing, Hadvar?
Get up! You can't sleep now, everyone counting on us."
What?
"Come on, how are you supposed to protect us?
When you decide to sleep on the job, Idiot."
Gerdur…
Sucking in the air around him. Hadvar coughs, trying to get his barrens.
"I'm not ready for Sovngrade just yet."
Steadily trying to move, he blinks a couple of times looking up to see if he was okay. His whole body felt as if he had been hit by a Giant's Hammer a hundred times, over and over again. Twitching his fingers and toes, nothing was broken. A miracle, gods be praised.
Pushing himself up on his elbows, he see the prisoner struggling to get to her own feet. What is that woman made off? He thought, wondering if she even a woman at all. Or even human for that matter. The feeling of heat was burning. The house next to them was still on fire. I have to get up, otherwise I'm dead.
Hadvar instantly lets out a painful cry.
Shifting his body, he cries out again in anguish.
Shutting his eyes tightly trying to block out the pain, but he couldn't it was too much.
Opening his eyes, he looks down at his legs as sees an iron nail was poking out of his calf. Blood was already dipping from the wound.
Every time his leg twitch or even moves a little. It was more painful than the last mistake.
Fuck! Out of all the injuries I could have received during this shit. Hadvar shouts inwardly at himself.
Too focus on the dreadful sharpness in his leg. Hadvar didn't hear prisoner drops down next to him, he only saw her at the corner of his eye. Hadvar looked at the woman, sending hateful glares blaming her for the cause of his pain. He expect the woman would have look of dark humor, the content of murder to kill him in his weakest moment. There was plenty of reasons to leave him or kill him just then and there. She could have the deepest grudge to hate him; he didn't stop the Captain. The prisoner name wasn't on the list of criminal. He knew by spotting, and pointing out the mistake.
There was no, Felniira Storm-Wind to be executed.
If anything out of mercy sake. She better kill him and be done with it.
Continuing his hate towards the woman. She stared down at his injured leg. He waited for what seem like eternity. Hadvar wanted to scream at the woman to already be done with her game and kill him.
"What are you waiting for? Kill me and be done with it! I would rather die now than at the maw by the dragon!" Hadvar blurts outwardly. He except the woman to complied too his death wish. The woman said nothing, which was starting to piss Hadvar off. "Well, don't make me wait and do it all ready."
"Quiet it!"
Hadvar flinches, but regrets doing so. Pain shot up his entire left side.
Looking back at the woman, she had a calculated look in her eye. A look as if she was examining his injured leg.
The woman bind hands reach up to grab the nail.
Hadvar heart leaps to his throat as he quickly shouts, "No, don't touch it!"
"If I don't get this rusted nail out, you will mostly die." The prisoner implores hastily. Again she checks the wound.
"Then kill me, so I won't have to suffer." Hadvar argues back.
"No."
"Why not? Isn't that what you wanted?" He's had enough of this, "Me to die, because I didn't stop my Captain, who sent you to the execution block, regardless of the mistake on the report. For what we both know, you could have been a free woman before oblivion decided to send a dragon to doom us all. So why bother to save someone who's already dead."
His words struck her.
Her face was shadowed, but the look in her eyes still held their determine look of calculation. Gods if this play on, he will-
"My father said; the only way to enter Sovngrade, is that you must up-hold your honor as a Nord, by dying in battle or accepting your fate before the gods." The prisoner spoke, as if she were reciting passage or a poem.
Hadvar was confused by the woman's words. He knows of the Nordic lore's and tales. Every songs and stories of old ever told. What was she getting at?
"What are you muttering about, prisoner?"
She turns and glares. "Your neither in battle nor before the gods, if you think you can enter Sovngrade with nail in your leg."
Hadvar flinches both inwardly and out of the woman's words and tone. The prisoner grabs the nail without saying a word of warning to him, and pulls iron out. Hadvar let out a howl of pain and curses. The prisoner places her hand over the gushing wound where the nail once was. He clenches his teeth hard groaning as he felt her place pressure.
The prisoner then concentrating on the wound and within two seconds. A golden glow of pure magic, began to healing the wound.
As quick as the pain had come, Hadvar sighs.
She lowered her hands, sighing herself in relief. Picking him up by the arms, she asked. "Can you walk on it?"
The wound was closed, but he needed to tests the healing magic of prisoner's.
Hadvar looked at the woman, she wore a look of confidence, maybe hope, as her focus was basically on his leg. Weighting his own pressure, Hadvar pushed back the small feeling of pain.
"Thank Kynareth." She mutter under on her breath.
"We should get out of this blasted ally." Hadvar said. Returning back to his role as a soldier.
"Right." The prisoner nods.
Finally, they escaped the ally. Passing through a once fairly large house, now render to nothing. They enter onto the main street.
Half the screaming died down, but the dragon was still at hold.
The woman lost her grip as the dragon flew over nearby. He can feel her trembling against him, as if she ready to fall to her knees in fear. Hadvar quickly grabs her shoulders and spins her to face him.
"Listen to me. You've saved my life, when you could have left me to die or perish." Hadvar confessed his inner thoughts to the woman, "So I owe you a debt. Twice."
"W-what are you saying?" The woman stammers.
'Don't get sentimental with me yet.' Hadvar thought bitterly.
"Your best chances to getting out of here alive would be escaping through the Keep. Don't head towards any of the gates. I highly doubt that dragon going to let anybody leave this place in full view of the sky." Hadvar explains.
"How would I know you're telling the truth?" The prisoner ask softly.
"A life for a life." Was Hadvar final reply.
Letting go of her shoulder, he half limped and ran towards the crowd of people and soldier. It looked to be the final defence against the dragon. He can see some people were already fleeing. Quickly grabbing the nearest soldier, he demand to know if Gunnar and Haming escaped.
"The old man and child did. Along with others survivor. A couple of guards are leading them to Falkreath. As long as we can keep this dragon attention on us, they should be fine."
Hadvar nods. Immediately, he was handed a bow and quiver full of arrows.
"It's not my time to enter Sovngrade." Hadvar said, gripping the bow until his knuckles turned white.
The other soldier look at him confused. Hadvar scanned around him. Half of the men were obviously scared, their bows rickety and their aims were sloppy. The dragon was doing horrors, by snatching up soldiers like nothing, and throwing them across the village. Taking a deep breath he spoke out loudy.
"Men of Skyrim and the Empire!" He cried. Couple of men stop briefly, but continue their firing against the dragon. "I know someone of you aren't men of Nords, but listen to me when I say this, if we don't end this foul creature life. More life will be lose than already what this civil war has taken. Ulfric Stormcloack has no doubt, ran away like coward he is. But if we end this creature will be the known as heroes for Skyrim!"
No one spoke, as they were far too focus on the dragon above, but one man. A Nord, no doubt, yell to the top of his lungs. "For Glory!" The Nord cried.
He shot his arrow up, hitting the creature.
"For Battle!"
"For the Empire!"
"For Skyrim!"
Cheers and battle cries erupted as new hope had arisen from the ashes of Helgen. The arrow shot faster. Fire balls glowed brighter and bigger than before.
"May Talo guide us…" Hadvar secretly whispers. He glances behind him. The woman had already dashes the opposite direction. Should all else fail…"May we meet again in Sovngrade…Felniira Storm-Wind."
Glances that the rest of the remaining forces. Hadvar spots a badly burnt man being stop and even held back as he tries breaking through the defence line.
"You're crazy to go back in there! Leave"
"Do you want some death wish? She dead!"
"Please, my wife is still there! Alive! I find to save her. Ingrid!" The man yells.
Gods help us all….
Well….I'm back with this, and I hoped you enjoy for the most parts.