I know. I have other stuff going. Well shut up, I'm writing this. This is the story of The Archmage from my story Dragonhide before she became the Archmage. That's... That's really all you need to know. So without further ado...

Chapter 1: The Story Begins

I slowly came to to find myself seated in a wooden cart with hands bound together, and naked as the day I hatched. Kinky. There were also three other men in the cart with me, stripped down to loincloths, hands bound together, and one even had a gag in his mouth. Even more kinky. But also either sexist or speciest, seeing as the big, burly male Nords (well, two big, burly male Nords and a super-scrawny one) got at least a piece of cloth to preserve their modesty, while the exotically-coloured busty Argonian maid (Heh. Classic.) didn't get anything.

Not that I really cared that I was naked and bound, since the first was of no consequence and I was really good at remedying the second, but still! Other Argonians might!

"Thank the gods," the runt said, "you're awake. You can tell them that we're not part of this. We're not rebels!"

"So we're prisoners? That's nice. Have to say, the only other option was slavery, and while I may be rather qualified physically-" At this, I arch my back with a sensual moan and thrust my breasts forward while giving my crotch a little rub as well as I could with these stupid ropes around my wrists. "-I have to say that my forceful personality doesn't quite fit what I need to be for the job." I smirk at the tenting loincloths around me. Heh. Still got it.

The un-gagged hunky Nord laughed mirthlessly. "Hah. As if anyone would be able to enslave Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim."

Runty's eyes widened dramatically. "You're Ulfric Stormcloak?"

Hunk rolled his eyes while Gagged Hunk mumbled something through the bond. "No, that's Ulfric Stormcloak. Nobody talks about himself in the third person, even if we are barbarians to the rest of the world."

"Oh gods…" Runty breathed. "If they've captured you… Where are they taking us?"

"Where do you think?" I cut in. "They're taking us to Solitude so that he can be publicly executed before the largest population of the country as possible."

"Or to Helgen so they can just tar and spike the head to parade it around the holds. They don't need to watch the execution. It's the closest town to where we were captured," Hunk pointed out.

As if by magic, a wall appeared farther down the road in front of us, a drawbridge crossing what was probably a moat or spike pit of some sort. We fell silent until we passed through the gates. Well, silent aside from Runty's muttering about how he was "not a rebel" and "they can't do this".

"Hey. Horse thief," Hunk spoke up as we passed through the gates. "Where are you from? A Nord's last thoughts should always be of home before he is taken to Sovngarde."

"Rorikstead," Runty replied quietly. "I'm from Rorikstead."

"Hold onto that thought. It's going to be important when we reach the block."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I'm much better at dealing with high-tension situations than this… sensitive stuff. The only sensitivity I really ever care about is all physical, sexual sensitivity.

The cart pulls to a stop next to a clearly set-up executioner's platform. A thought comes to my head. "Is hanging still legal in Skyrim? I thought it was phased out a few years back."

The Imperial soldier who had been driving the cart chuckled as he walked past. "No, it was only outlawed for mass executions. They'll still be going to the block. Master High King of the World over here, however, gets special treatment. His sentence is to be hung, drawn, and quartered, while his head will be chopped off, tarred, stuck on a pike, and sent around to all the holds."

We were ushered out of the cart and told to wait until our name was called. Eventually, it was down to just me and Runty. The soldier calling names looked confused as he looked at the paper in his hands. "Who are you two?"

"Lokir of Rorikstead," replied… Lokir? Nah, still calling him Runty.

I bowed low at the soldier, shaking my behind at Runty behind me. "I am Wuja-Ei, hoping to become a citizen of Skyrim. This capture is all a huge misunderstanding. I'm sure I could find something to… clear my name with?" I asked, pushing my breasts forward and giving a pointed look at his crotch. Hey, I may be a strong, independent Argonian woman, but that doesn't mean I'd prefer going to the block over getting some sex and not getting executed.

He simply looked at me, unimpressed, before turning away and calling, "Captain? These two aren't on the list. What do you want me to do?"

"Forget the list, they go to the block."

Damn. Is he gay, or something? I thought that would work.

"No! You can't do this!" Runty shouted. "We're not rebels!"

Sweet Hist, can you say anything other than that?

Runty suddenly took off running. "No! You can't do this! We're not rebels!" Apparently not.

Two arrows whistled through the air and smashed through his kneecaps from behind, while another three hit him in the heart, neck, and groin from the front. What a waste of arrows.

"Come on, prisoner. To the block. Nice and easy."

Reluctantly, I followed the man to the line of prisoners awaiting execution. Of course, since I wasn't actually supposed to be there, they ushered me to the front of the line instead so they could get me out of the way.

As they pulled me towards the block, a faint roar was heard, causing everyone to pause momentarily before continuing onward. I was roughly forced to kneel next to the block as a priest began performing last rites.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of-"

"Yes, yes, blessings of the Eight Divines be upon you, you're about to die, etcetera, etcetera. We all know how it goes," I interrupted. "Get on with it."

The priest scoffed at me with a disgusted look in her eyes, as if I had offended her gods or- no, I probably offended her and her gods. "As you wish."

The soldier who had pushed me to the ground bent me down to place my shoulders across the block, and I couldn't help but make one last quip. "Oh, come now. If you'd wanted me to bend over for you, all you had to do was ask."

"Quiet, prisoner," the captain said.

"What, can't a woman indulge in a bit of gallows humour? The longer I can keep talking and amuse you, the longer I stay alive and not beheaded."

"I am not amused. Headsman, continue."

I looked to the side at the executioner, only to notice something in the sky. "What in Oblivion is that?"

As soon as I said it, a roar shook the ground, and a dragon - an honest-to-gods dragon! - landed on top of the nearby tower of the fort. It shouted something in strange-but-familiar words that tickled the edge of my understanding, and the sky opened up in a storm of fire, falling rocks, and falling rocks that were on fire. One smashed into the ground right next to me, covering me with blood as the headsman… Well, let's just say he won't be doing his job anymore. Not unless he became one of those restless-spirit types.

...Note to self: avoid Helgen at all costs and learn how to ward against ghosts if I survive.

I felt a hand shake my shoulder roughly. "Come on, Argonian! The gods won't give us another chance!" Huh. Apparently I'm still lying down on the block. I looked up to see Hunky there, beckoning me towards one of the towers nearby. I sprinted for my life, blowing past the Nord and diving for the safety of the tower. Inside, there were a number of other prisoners, tending to wounds and trying to put together some armor that even kind of fit from the pieces that were lying around. Apparently, this had been an armory or smithy of some sort.

We were all taking a moment to breathe when a sudden crash sounded from the tower above us and debris began to fall, blocking the entrance. The dragon's head poked through a new hole in the wall, and a sharp inhalation from… him? I got the impression it was male, for some reason… warned us of what was about to happen.

I heard someone shout "duck and cover," but it was too late. The dragon exhaled, and half of the men were flash-fried in their new ill-fitting armor. Apparently satisfied with his handiwork, the dragon's head disappeared from the hole, and the sound of wingbeats rejoined the screams of the injured and the frantic commands of the Legionnaires.

"Argonian!" King Hunky, apparently no-longer gagged, shouted at me. "Follow me! We're getting out of here!"

"What, no knife to cut myself out of these ropes?" I asked jokingly. He fixed me with a hard stare. I rolled my eyes and slid my hands out of the ropes. "Fine, fine. Not like the knots were that well-tied in the first place."

Hunky came up from behind the two of us. "Sir! You're not really suggesting that we jump across, are you?"

"Of course I am. Now, check back down there for survivors and get as many as you can to the main keep. There may be Imperials in there, but that's a damn sight better than dealing with a gods-damned dragon."

"I… As you wish, King Ulfric."

King Hunky turned back to me rapidly. "Alright, Argonian, you're going first. If it's too dangerous, scream loudly."

There we go. Chapter 1. Not an original start, I know, but it will be different from the game. The divergence starts pretty quickly next chapter. I hope the comedy is enough to make people stick with me through this chapter.

As always, please R&R.

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