All right! New story! Hope you like it!

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The Age of Agression

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It wasn't like I desired this. Nor did I expected to find this among my path through life. I never dared to hope to it.
I certainly wasn't born for such destiny. But like so many things in my strange life, fate brought it towards me.
For him. For them. For Skyrim.

(:.:)

Her body shook by the movements of the carriage she was sitting. A feeling of nauseous overwhelmed her as she slowly regained her consciousness. Her head was hurting her and her body felt like she was stamped over by a horde of trolls. She wanted to raise her hand to ease her headache, but once she tried, she noticed her hands were bounded together. Her eyes sprung open as she looked surprised and confused at her hands.

'What happened?' she thought.

"Hey you! Finally awake, eh?"

A male voice called out to her. The accent was clearly present in his voice. A Nord. She looked up and saw a man with blond hair staring at her. His blue eyes, the same colour as her own, looked at her. With a furrowed brown she looked around her. She saw two more men in the carriage they were sitting. All were bound, and one of them was even gagged by his mouth. They all looked up at her, making her feel uncomfortable and her face beet red. Out of habit she lowered her gaze towards the ground, avoiding everyone's eyes from her own.

"You were trying to cross the border, right?" the man continued talking. "Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us. And that thief over there."

He gestured towards the man next to him.

"Damn you, Stormcloaks!" cursed the man. The term 'Stormcloak' was familiar to her, but she couldn't remember why. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. T' Empire being nice and lazy… If they hadn't been looking for you I've had stolen that horse and would've been half way Hammerfell. You there!"

She flinched open at the reference. She hadn't said a word. She looked at him with wide eyes, a dull expression written on her face.

"You and me! We shouldn't be here!" he said with a panic voice. "It are these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!"

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Interjected the Nord with a snarl on his last word.

"Shut up back there!" Barked the driver over his shoulder.

For a moment they all lowered their gazes and held their mouth. She now realized that she didn't knew where they were taking them. Being bounded made already clear that whatever they were going was good.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" the thief referred towards the man next to her.

She glanced to him, seeing green eyes looked at her intensely. She avoided his eyes, as she stared back forward. She saw in the corner of her eyes that the man next to her was now looking at the thief. She could guess that he would be unable to answer him because of the gag around his mouth.

"Watch your tongue, thief!" Snapped the Nord. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

The pride was clear in his voice. It swelled deeply in him as the Nord spoke the words out. She, however merely frowned on the unfamiliar name. She had never heard of it, nor the term 'High King'. She supposed it was the King of Skyrim, or whatever it was.

She heard the strangled gasp of the Thief, and she looked at him surprised. On his face was an horrified look written over his features. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? But, you're the leader of the rebellion!"

He nearly shouted out the words. She wanted to ask; 'What rebellion?' but the look on the thief's face told her that whatever it was, it wasn't good. Panic rose in him, as his eyes widened fearful.

"Oh Gods! Where are they taking us?!"

He was looking at the man, who they had called Ulfric Stormcloak, as if he was expecting an answer from the gagged man.

"I don't know where they are going to take us, but Sovngarde awaits." The other Nord answered.

'Sovngarde…' another term she didn't knew. She took the name in and wondered if that is where they were going? She had heard the lament in the man's voice. Was it a place she should fear then?

The thief kept on chanting that 'this wasn't happening' and the other man had kept quiet for the time being. Feeling herself awkward, and no idea what they were talking about, she looked down on the ground, occasionally looking over the carriage.

"Eh, what village are you from, horse thief?"

It was strange to hear their accent so thick in their speaking. She herself was a Nord by birth, but she had never the same accent as the man across her. They were all talking with their funny terms and strange reference to one another.

"Why do you care?" snapped the thief.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home…"

There was a silence when the Nord spoke the words, holding a strong mean and truth within them. The thief swallowed heavy.

"Rawrikstead…" he eventually answered. "I-I'm from Rawrikstead."

"General Tullius, Sir!"

They were all stirred as the driver called out. Nobody of them had even noticed they had reached the gates.

"The headsman is waiting!"

"Good. Let's get this over with." The man, who was called Tullius, answered back.

They neared the gate closer and closer. In the back of her, she heard the thief calling out to the divines. As they passed the General, she heard the Nord spatting and sneering.

"Look at him! General Tullius military govern. And it looks like the Thalmor are with them. Damn Elves! I bet they have something to do with it."

She looked more curiously at the opening gates then fearful. This was the first village she had entered in Skyrim, and more; the first strange village she had entered her entire life. She rose slightly to get a better view of the village. It wasn't spectacular. It looked a lot like her own village back home. She felt a small pang of disappointment. Perhaps, she had secretly hoped of something more exiting.

"This is Helgen." The Nord told her. His blond hair slightly hanging in his face. When she looked at him, he got a playful grin on his face. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here."

She grinned goofy back at him. It felt strange. She should be threatened by everything that was happing around her, but yet she felt herself being more drawn to it out of curiosity. After all, this was the land that her brother too had seen.

Her long blond curls were slightly flowing along the cold wind of Skyrim. It was all tangled and had a dull glance in it. Even the colour wasn't the same anymore. It was because of the lack of sun. It was colder then where she came from. She noticed that everything here was colder. The land, the weather, the animals. Even the people here were much colder than at home. On the other hand, she had lived her whole life in one place. There were many things she had seen for the first time. It was all very exciting and sometimes even a little bit frightened.

As the people stared at them, she felt herself more a stranger her than in Morrowind, where the villagers knew her from her earliest age.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped. And as she looked around, the other carriages did too.

"Why are we stopping?" she heard the thief asking nervously.

"Why do you think? End of line." The Nord said mockingly as he raised up. She looked questionable at the Nord, who grinned at her as if everything was joke.

"Let's go. Shouldn't keep the guards waiting, eh?"

She nodded and followed him. As they all jumped off the carriage one after one, she heard the thief speaking again; "No! Wait! We're not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief!" the Nord scowled behind him. She frowned at the word "Death". What was happening to them?

"You got to tell them!" He begged, but no one answered his call. "We weren't with them! This is a mistake!"

An Imperial woman, with a stoic and stern look on her face stepped before them. Looking at them almost mockingly, she spoke out with a loud commanding voice. "Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!"

'What block?' she wondered.

"T' Empire love their damn lists…" She heard the Nord growling.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The other Imperial called out. The jarl walked with a certain pride and grace forward.

"It was an honour, Jarl Ulfric." She heard the Nord called out.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

As she watched how the Nord stepped forward, as he spat down at the ground.

"Lokir of Rawikstead."

He immediately protested at that. "No! you can't do this!"

She saw how he struggled against the guards. All eyes were fixed on him as he ran away.

"You'll never get me alive!"

Tiptoeing, she watched as Lokir ran away from the guard. And how he was shot down by the archers. She felt a horrified feeling through her. She was surprised as aware how easily they would shoot you, if not, kill you. Why wasn't anyone stopping them? Why was it allowed to kill another? She held her breath in and her heart hammered in her chest. Her palm began to sweat. Realization started to sink in; she was in grave danger.

The Emperial Captain commanded that the next prisoner would step forward. That would be her. She clenched her hands together in a fist. She was starting to shake as she looked to her left and saw "The Block" they all spoke of.

"Who… are you?" was asked to her.

Shakily, she took a deep breath. "Nenna." She answered. Her name fell of her lips bluntly. "My name is Nenna."

(:.:)

"You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim." The man said as he noted her name on the list.

A shudder of fear went through Nenna. He had called Skyrim her home, but this was the first time that she entered Skyrim. Even though she was a Nord by blood and birth, she was still a stranger to this country. But she held her mouth shut and said nothing in response.

"Captain, what to do?" the man mussed as he watched the list with a frown. "She's not on the list-"

"Forget the list!" barked the captain's voice. He turned his head towards his officer's direction. "She goes to the block."

Nenna snapped her eyes wider. "W-what?!" she managed to stutter out. This wasn't supposed to happen!

"By your orders, captain." The Imperial looked back at her, regretful. "I'm sorry." He said simply. "At least you'll die here in your homeland."

'How nice of you.' An sarcastic thought said in her mind. She held her tongue though. She held her gaze to the ground, not daring to look up. She seemed calm. But, in her mind, she went crazy!

'By the Gods! They are really going to kill me! I can't die! I'm too young!'

Nenna swallowed heavily. She would love to run around and to scream. 'I just tripped over a bloody rock and fell into that ambush! It was stupid, but that's hardly a reason to kill me!'

Tears threatened in her eyes. The man spoke again; "Follow the captain, prisoner."

With shaky limps she did as she was told. The captain walked over to where the other prisoners stood. She saw her fellow prisoners looking up at her as she joined them.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," she heard a male voice saying. Looking to het left, she saw that the gagged man was spoken by another man, wearing a shiny armour. He had spat the name out as an insult and glared at the jarl with disgust. She guessed this man must be Tulius.

"Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king."

The only respond he could give back was a grunt of protest, muffled by the cloth around his mouth. Hardly fair, in Nenna's opinion.

"You started this war-" the general continued with rage. "Plum Skyrim in chaos. And now the Empire is going to bore you down and restore the peace."

Out of now where, the general was interrupted by an distant animal-like scream. Everyone looked up at the sky, where it was sounded. A cold chill went through Nenna's spine. She didn't like that sound.

"What was that?" someone asked in a small voice.

"It was nothing." Tulius said quickly. Trying to ensure everyone and not to get distracted on the task ahead. "Carry on."

Nenna did her best to believe the man's word, but the cold scary chill was still there and she felt any comfort in his words.

'The fact he's going to place me to the block is also not helping, I think.' She mussed. She stared at the wooden block, perfectly shaped to place your head on it. The long she looked at it, the longer she felt she was going to throw up.

"Yes, General Tulius!"the captain saluted. Tulius passed her and she herself turned towards the priestess that stood nearby. "Give them their last rights."

Nenna saw how she nodded and heaved her arms up highly in the air. It almost looked as if she was worshipping someone, something.

"As we command your souls to Ithirius' blessing-"

"For the love of Talos! Just shut up and let's get this over with!" interjected a rough, rude bark. Heads were turned towards the Stormcloak who walked towards the block. He had an casual swagger in his walk, much to Nenna's surprise.

"As you wish…" ended the priestess curtly and cold.

"C'mon! I haven't got all morning!" he mocked to them.

Nenna rose her eyebrows high up. She figured that every men and women here would silently beg or loudly protest at their death's. But it seemed in Skyrim, that the Nords weren't afraid to fear their ending. It somewhere fascinated her.

The captain behind him nodded towards the executioner and eventually pushed to man down on the block with her feet on his back. As he laid his head down, facing the man with the axe, Nenna could hear him speaking to them.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials! Can you say the same?"

No one responded to his words and the hangman heaved up his heavy axe and let it fall down on the neck of the soldier. Much to her horror, Nenna saw how the head was cut off the body and the sound breaking bones drummed through her ears. She gasped out horrified and her eyes widened at the blood that flowed out of his body.

"As fearless in death as he was in life." She Ralof muttering next to her. He had a soft lamenting tone in his voice.

"Next prisoner!" The captain barked.

Nenna closed her eyes, wishing that this was just a stupid dream and she would wake up any minute now. Another cry went through the sky and she snapped her eyes open. She looked up, but again they saw nothing.

"There it is it again. Did you hear that?" one of the Stormcloaks said.

"I said; next prisoner!" the captain snarled impatiently, ignoring the crying and grumbling sounds.

Nenna looked by accident at the Imperial who had noted her name on the list, and she saw the expectedly look in his face. She wanted to scream that this was a mistake and run off, like Lorik had done. She wanted to cry out that she didn't want to die. That she first had things to do before she could. But then again, would anyone listen?

With shaky legs she walked towards the block, avoiding everyone's eyes from her own. Her tangled and messy blond hair fell slightly before her eyes. It was long enough to reach her shoulder. Back in Morrowind, they would've cut it short again, she suddenly noted to herself.

As she came closer the fear only grew stronger in her. Every instinct said to her to fight, to run. To go anywhere except here. Standing before it, she saw how the blood was dripping off the block on the ground. How another one's head was resting in the bucket underneath it. She felt her stomach aching up and threatening to throw everything out. She felt herself becoming sick. As she was pushed down in the same rough method. Nenna didn't resist as she was pushed down and rested her head on the block. With disgust, she felt the blood tickling her skin on her face.

Her eyes widened at the axe in the hangman's hand.

'It looks sharp.' She thought dull. She scowled at herself and said to herself that this was serious. She was about to die!

With a whimper of fear, she turned her eyes away, resting on the top of the tower. Why was he taking so long? She only became more afraid as he waited so long. Nenna clenched and unclenched her hands. She heard the heavy sway of the axe, being heaved up.

Holding in her breath, she looked back at the axe, who was shining in the sunlight. She let out a whimper of fear again. She furrowed her brow together in the agonizing faces she had ever made. She didn't want to die yet! She couldn't focus her eyesight anymore as panic and adrenaline went through.

She didn't even hear the growl and another cry in the sky, as a beast flew in the tops, coming off the mountain.

"What in the oblivion is that?!" someone screamed.

The yell pulled Nenna out of her fear back in confusion. She looked at the tower and saw a creature sitting she had never seen before. Nenna stared at it with open mouth. She heard the beast speaking, much to her surprise, in an unfamiliar language. The space around them suddenly became heavier as if a pile of rocks fell on her body. She gasped as the force blew her, the hangman and the block away. She hit the cold ground on her back hard and it blew it the air out of her lungs.

"Dragon!" she heard someone screaming vaguely as her eyesight became a blur.

"W-what?" she whimpered as she rolled on her side. She laid there still, not having any attention to move. She was hoping that it was like a bad storm; lay still, let the storm rage and it shall soon be over.

"Come on!" someone screamed at her who was standing close at her. She was yanked up and dragged away. She didn't get any time to collect herself. Around her she saw people screaming and burning rocks falling out of the sky. It was more a strange sight than a terrible one.

As the screams of those people sounded hollow in her ears, she was thrown in a room hurriedly. She groaned as she connected with the stone floor. She heard faintly a door slam closed, and felt a rumble through it. Opening her eyes, she stared above her. Instead of a room, she the ceiling highly above her together with stair.

"Jarl Ulfric, do you believe this is the return of the dragons? Like the legend?" she heard Ralof saying.

With much effort she crawled up, and looked around her. Much to Nenna's surprise she saw numerous people wearing the same blue armour as Ralof; Stormcloaks. She looked with a furrowed brown. Were they all coming for one man? She looked at the Jarl, who, she had come to understand, was the leader.

She heard a distant voice, calling out at her. "Come girl!" Ralof called out at her.

She stood up as fast as she could and followed him. She shot one curious glance at the Jarl, but followed Ralof quickly. Her hands were still bound and she had to be careful for not tripping again. They had almost reached the top of it and she saw one of the soldiers trying to make a way through the stones. Before anyone could offer his or her hands, the wall next to them was kicked out. Nenna yelped and ducked down as the dragon's head came through the hole. He spat out his fire, among the strange language it spoke. Before their eyes, the man was burned alive. Nenna tightened her lips together to stop herself from crying out.

She heard Ralof getting up quickly and rush towards the opening. Nenna followed his example and when she looked down she saw the destroyed inn.

"Alright." Ralof said as he clapped on her back hard. She stumbled at the force and shot him a glare. He simply ignored her and gestured down. "Jump down. We will follow you as soon as possible."

Nenna's eyes widened and her eyebrows shut up in surprise. "What?! You want me to jump down and enter a dragon-Imperial-fighting-zone?! No way!"

"You have not much of a choice, kid. It's that, or stay behind in here." He said with a grin.

Nenna grimaced and looked down again. After a couple moments of thinking and silence, she let out a loud groan. "Holy cow, I can't believe I am actually going to do this!"

She jumped down, and let out a shriek as the ground rushed closer to her. She felt her fall being broken by the wooden beams of the inn. She heard it cracking and crying out by her sudden weight of them. Falling on her butt, she let out a cry as pain went through her body.

'They better can come after me!' she thought furiously as she stood up. She rubbed her butt and ran through the inn outside. The dragon was snarling, as the soldiers were shooting arrows at it. She ran passed them.

As more rocks fell from the sky, as more different screams filled her ears, Nenna stopped running. She looked around her for a moment. She was surrounded by chaos. How was she going to survive this?