AN: Some of you may have played Arena, but probably not. If you did, you know there is a lot more cities in Skyrim. I will be using them in this story, and I will mention where they are and what they are like. Note the first chapter is about Ulfric, and the next will be of Marx. Marx is the Dragonborn.
They hurt us. They violated our women when they attacked. They seiged our very lands and burned our homes. I watched as the men I once called my best friends bled, and others ran, leaving us for dead. Had it not been for an experienced auxillary named Galmar. Yes the mighty Stone Fist. Him and his brother came and saved us. Most of us. The names of the shield brothers and sister wives and children who`s names were whispered in their last breaths, run through by those elven facists. The scars of my back and neck, from Elenwen, who dehumanized me as she violated me to get her precious information. To this day, almost 3 and a half decades later, they still haunt me and prevent me from having the good night`s sleep I still desire.
Same with my general, Marx. He has taken the beastblood, but never told what it`s side effects were. Perhaps this is why we fight on. Marx is a damned good fighter. Circle Member of the Companions, Dragonborn, Arch Mage, the list goes on. But regardless of our pasts, we still fight for reason. Against facists. Against those to blind to see the greater good. Anyways, this is my story. Why I fight. Why they will fall.