A/N: Anything confusing you? Ask me questions and I'll work the answer into the story. I wouldn't want you to be turned off by the Elder Scrolls vocabulary. That way you don't have to play the game to read the story. I still recommend playing if you have the time, like really have the time. Truth be told I haven't even finished the main quest past (Spoiler?) talking to that friendly dragon on the mountain. (End Spoiler?). There's just too much to do! Besides, this story won't follow the main quest in Skyrim. It'll have it's own quest line. Ok, well, Faberry all the way. Yay...
Dragonborn
"The World-Eater wakes, and the wheel turn upon the Last Dragonborn."
-The Book Of The Dragonborn (Prior Emelene Madrin Order of Talos Weynon Priory)
I had grown up on the outskirts of Skyrim my whole life. My family had no need to travel into it's untamed wilderness. We lived comfortably in the small cottage dotting our small estate hidden in the corner of Falkreath hold, straddling the border between Skyrim and Hammerfell. Great plains had surrounded me my whole life, tampered with cattle and chickens. I was a stranger to Skyrim's towering mountains. It was a simple life, but somewhere along my story I was seduced by adventure. It was an uncontrollable lust that bled into my every fiber. The call of fame had me in it's grasp. I would go about my daily chores wondering of the unexplored rural mountain tops. Of the ruins of past civilizations, rumored to be infested with undead creatures. Of strange oasis hidden in mountain passes. My whole life was revolving around leaving the small cottage and making a name for myself. I, Rachel Berry, was destined for greatness! Or so I thought before my head lay on an execution slab.
I had stumbled upon a Stormcloak camp, and (as I had been lost in the wilderness before hand) they fed me and gave me a place to rest for the night. I was rather surprised by their hospitality. As my luck would have it that same night there was an Imperial ambush on camp. I was mistaken as a Stormcloak and bound. We were all headed to Helgen for our execution.
I was the first one to drop to my knees in front of the execution slab. Around me stood the grim faces of my fellow captors. It wasn't so much that I was going to die, that would come to me sooner or later, but it was the thought that I was to die faceless. My head cradled by the granite, sticky with blood and strangers to witness my demise.
The world had come crashing around my ears, my dreams had been flooded with reality. I knelt before a man that wore a black cloak. His arms flexed with practiced ease as he hefted the axe to his shoulder. I wondered vaguely how he could live with the guilt. Maybe he didn't have to, a faceless men just doing his job. What was there to be guilty of?
And as I was stuck in my musings the world around me suddenly exploded with action. A deep call sounded, and the earth shook in it's power. On top of the ivory tower landed a dragon. My executioner fell to his side as the dragon spoke, his words trembled the land. Almost as if the land spoke back, muffled from the thick crust of earth.
Yol Toor Shul!
The sky revolted in it's wake. I scrambled to my feet as grey clouds twisted and coiled above me. They flashed briefly before molten rocks pelleted the earth. Flame rained down from the sky and the civilians scrambled to their homes.
"What are you doing! Talos has granted us an escape, count your blessings!"
The voice came to me like it had traveled from a great abyss. Far way and foreign. It was one of the Stormcloaks who had been captured with me, I stumbled after the man as he headed shelter in one the watchtowers. The world seemed to slowly bleed back to me. I heard the far off screech of the dragon, and I dove into the archway of the tower. Stair cases spiraled upward, twisting within the cylinder tower like a snake. A man slumped against the walls, propping himself on a chair as blood trickled down his head. He sat there like a crippled dog licking his wounds, I made to help him, my father had taught me minor restoration magic before my voyage. But a sharp tug on my bound arms stopped me.
"We have one chance to escape, and that chance is now." The man who lead me here said.
I nodded and we headed toward the spiralled staircase. Everything seemed strangely fake. The man bleeding to his death didn't seem real, my almost execution didn't feel real. I faltered in my steps and the man turned to me. But before he could speak the wall of the tower exploded inward.
I stumbled back as the head of the dragon butted into the tower. His scaled maw opened and spurred out fire. I felt the heat from the fire wash over me, clinging onto my face as the man pushed me back from the flame. And as fast as the dragon appeared it was gone. Flying into the sky to wreck havoc on the people defending Helgen. The hole that the dragon created smoked briefly before the cooling winds took the black cloud away. The tower had stood among shops and houses. From here I could see a home ten feet down, it's roof missing allowing me a look into it innereds.
"Jump I'll be right behind you!"
I whirled around and looked at him. Was he insane?
"Trust me!"
I didn't trust him, but I narrowed my eyes and turned to the hole. What choice did I have otherwise? A dragon was attacking Helengard, desperate times call for desperate measures. I jumped.
My feet hit the floor and I let my knees take the abuse as I stumbled forward. I was lucky nothing snapped. Pain didn't register at the moment but I knew that fall wasn't good for me. I trotted down the stairs and came into the living room, the front wall was gone. Lumber had been burned from a soft brown to hard black. I stepped out and noticed the efforts of the Imperials. Archers topped the walls that remained, sending flocks of arrows to the dragon. But few archers remained, most a victim to the hellish fire. Soldiers stood their ground, but they had been flung like ragdolls at any chance of melee combat.
"You! Nord! Stay close if you want to survive."
I snapped to attention as a man commanded the townspeople to stay indoors. I remembered him as the man who objected my execution, however briefly. As I was unloaded from the cart he had told the commander that I wasn't on the list of known Stormcloaks. The commander disregarded him. Obviously. But I appreciated his sympathy.
"Follow me." He said.
I stole a glance over my shoulder to look for the other man, the Stormcloak. He was nowhere to be seen.
"What are you doing Nord? Do you wish to be burnt to a crisp?" He called out.
He sped off and I followed closely behind. He paused briefly against a wall and braced himself against it.
"This is hopeless, we need to get out of here." He mumbled. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me, but before I could ask he grabbed my arm in a vice grip and jerked me over to him. The wall suddenly shuddered, and fire rained down before me. I was once again bathed in heat, the flames licked down onto the charred ground as the dragon roared and took off leaving a gust of wind to rush over us.
"Stay close to the wall!"
Nice timing, couldn't have told me earlier? I thought dryly. He tugged me after him, his free hand held a sword tightly as he lead us through the settlement. Most of the town lay in ruins, and the only people out were actively trying to kill the dragon. Smoke curled up into the sky, and the distant screech of the dragon could be heard. They sky had been cleared of it's earlier anger, sunlight rained down despite the morbid conditions of Helengard. The imperial man had let me go and he ran across to a door. He tried it and it popped open.
"C'mere!" He yelled out.
"No! Come here fellow Nord." I blinked as the Stormcloak from before ran past me and opened a separate door.
I hesitated at the choice, but finally I ran to the Imperial. My gut didn't trust the Stormcloak. He was already in the building and I entered the dim room.
In here the sounds of pillage were completely gone, but the smell of smoke still clung to me.
"These are the guards barracks."
I looked around, beds lined the left wall each had a rich red cover like small squares of blood. Lanterns were sporadically placed, and the place was disorganized in the only way men could have it. Shields lay against the walls and swords rested atop tables glinting among the lantern light. Wines and potions were spread out on shelves with the occasional book.
I jumped slightly as the Imperial grabbed my hands, he swiped a dagger from a tabletop and with a quick swing I was lose. I looked up at him, finally noticing what he looked like. He was young, about my age. I wrinkled my nose at his hair, it was odd. I mop of hair running down his head, shaved at the sides.
"Grab what you need, my men would want you to have it." He said in a grave voice. I realized that those soldiers out there were his charge, his responsibility. And he had failed every single one of them.
"I'm sorry." I said.
His eyes focused on mine for a moment before he nodded and looked away.
"Get some armor, they're in the chest. I'm sure at least one of my soldiers were as small as you..." His voice died toward the end and he turned away from me to hide his grief.
I nodded, even though he wasn't looking at me. I opened the hide chest and shuffled through until I found the smallest leather chap.
"Here, put on the leather and then this tunic." He held out a cream colored shirt, I frowned slightly but took it from him. The tunic and leather armour made me look me more masculine than I would want to. It hid whatever curves I managed to developed, and broadened my shoulders. But I suppose it's better than the latter, dirty soot covered rags. Ew.
"You can wear these slacks. They're pretty tight, shouldn't be loose in the crotch." He handed me a pair of tan pants from one of the hide chest at the foot of the beds.
"Gross." I said as I put the pants on over my rags. He chuckled and went off to the weapons rack.
"Sword or mace?" He held each in different hands.
"Neither. I don't condone violence. " I crossed my arms in front of my chest, it was one thing to leave a man bleeding. But to have their blood on my conscience?
The man studied me, his grey eyes seemed colder and distant. Maybe someday a long time ago he was just like me, but I suppose Skyrim changes you.
"Look, there are dangers ahead. Take one, just in case."
I sighed and grabbed a large sword leaning against one of the crimson beds. The sword was a dull iron, it's weight felt heavy and awkward in my hands. The hilt had worn out leather wrapped around it, my finger brushed up the loose strap at the end and I found a name etched on the iron.
Tim Fabray.
Huh.
"Are you ready?" He stood by the door, his own sword gripped in his hand.
"No." I said and he pushed the door open.
XXXX
We walked in silence, the corridor snaked down deep into the world. Hidden from the problems above ground, yet we couldn't escape the fear that clawed at us with each shadow.
"I hear something." He whispered as we neared a corner. He took out his sword, balanced with ease in his a yell he darted around and I jumped to follow.
He met the battle with the powerness of a dozen Nords, his strikes were strong and transitioned perfectly into a block. He danced away from his enemy, his single arm defending him from two opponents. It was a lethal dance, and I had no intention of joining. His final strokes on his enemies reminded me of when my father would finish a letter, with flourished strokes and over exaggerated movement. Like he was writing for the king.
"Why didn't you help?" He grunted as he wiped down his sword. Could blood rust a sword? It wouldn't be fitting.
"I don't know how to, besides I don't participate in such violence."
He straightened up and held out his hand.
"Give me your sword."
I frowned at the command but gave it to him none the less. Wouldn't want to anger a man with that kind of command over his sword.
"This is a great sword, kind of big and heavy for such a little lady. But you choose it, heaven knows why." He wielded my sword, his wrist twisted and coiled at the practice strikes. It was all controlled in the wrist but the weight rested on his arms.
"Grip it with two hands. Use it at an angle, strike in an angle, block in an angle. Horizontal and diagonal are too unstable to take or give a hit. Use your weight to block but not to strike. Understood?"
"Yes." I rolled my eyes, it's not like I would ever use it.
He handed my sword back and we stepped over the dead men. The corridor slowly evened out, and I slowed my steps as we neared the end. A door lay resting, slightly ajar. He paused at the crack and crouched down to peep into it.
"It's all clear." He said and pushed the door open. He stepped into the room.
Blue tendrils shot out at him, he jerked and fell to his knees as blue electricity raked his body like a dozen striking snakes.
Time seemed to slow down as I ran to the doorway. A mage held his hands out, the source of the electricity. Everything felt hyper realistic, the imperial jerking and writhing at my feet, the musty smell of the room, and the warmth of the hilt leather of my sword. Everything was dimming around me, a veil pulled over my head. Muffling my thoughts. I was in a spell that coaxed me. That seduced me to action. I sprang forward, my sword gripped in a vice grip. My movements were calculated, my muscles contracted and reacted on foreign memory. I wasn't thinking, just doing. The veil was suddenly torn from me as iron bit into warm flesh. As blood spilled onto the floor, and the iron of my sword stained.
The mage lay dead at my feet, I struggled to find an emotion. I watched as dark crimson ran down my sword to mingle with the other blood splatters.
With a neurotic madness I shot back, scrubbing the crimson off my sword with the dirty rags I grabbed blindly. The iron glowed with my polishing (swirls of crimson still present), reflecting back my wide stair. I felt it, this was the first time we had bit into a life. We as in me and the sword, the sin was ours to share. We shared the strange relation, my life- my sanity- was melted into the iron. The room spun, I gripped the blade's flat end to my chest. Slowly I crumbled to the floor.
"I'm sorry."
I was snapped out of my thoughts as the man approached me. What was he sorry for? The words didn't connect, they floated in my mind.
"But thank you." He gently propped me on my feet, and my balanced wavered as he smoothed down his hair. The words clicked and I nodded numbly, I would rather lose my innocence than watch the life of a man seep out before me.
I looked around, avoiding the dead gaze of the mage. The torture room. It seemed fitting. How many lives had been lost here? The mage was just another spot on the leopard. Cages hung from the roof, torture devices lined the walls. Old dried up blood soaked the once grey floor. Ugly rust colored spots.
And amiss of all the sadist sat a book, untouched and clean. Like a sacred shrine. I picked the book up, the cover was smooth and embroidered by tight silver stitches depicting the symbol of Skyrim. A dragon, how ironic.
The Book of The Dragonborn.
I flipped the book opened and skimmed through the confusing jargon, words popped out at me- floating in front of my eyes. But my searching gaze snagged on a single sentence.
'The Nords tell tales of Dragonborn heroes who were great dragonslayers, able to steal the power of the dragons they killed'.
"Maybe we could find the Dragonborn?" I said and looked up at the Imperial. He chuckled and took the book from my grasp.
"The Dragonborn is nothing but a myth, folklore and legend spun by mothers to calm a child to sleep." He said and carelessly tossed the book to the ground. It hit the blood stained ground and I was reminded of my own tainted innocence.
"But the dragon? Myths don't burn down villages..." I said carefully and picked up a stack of coins from a small wooden stool. It wasn't stealing if they were dead, right? Right.
"And I don't expect a myth to save us either Nord." He shot back.
"Rachel." I huffed.
"What?"
"My name's Rachel, not Nord. And you should show some respect in the presence of a lady."
"You don't look like much of a lady." He grabbed one of the shields hooked onto the wall and held it out to me, the metal beamed back a grimy reflection of me.
On one side my hair had been burned up to my jaw. The opposite side limped down, untouched but dirty.
"You may want to even that out. Here I'll do it for you!" He tossed the shield aside and advanced on me with a dagger. A smile toyed on his lips but the humor was lost on me.
"No, no, no, no, no!" I gripped his wrist, and shook my head.
"Trust me. I wouldn't let the women who saved my life look hideous." He chuckled at his own statement. Fuck him, but I couldn't go around like this. I needed to cut it. I nodded and dropped my hand, I suppose it was just another thing changed about me.
"There you go! Don't worry, I'm sure in a past life I was a servant. My men have told me I give them cuts like kings!" He slowly went around me, sawing off the burnt ends of my hair and cutting them to the same length. Hair dropped to the floor and I grimaced at what a mess this room was.
"We should get going…" I sighed.
"Don't you want to see your new hair?" He sounded almost disappointed.
"Later, I just want to get out of here."
"Very well, but now I expect you to fight by my side. Can you do that without freaking out?" He gripped my shoulders and swiveled me to look at him.
"I'll try." Killed one life, what's a few more?
"Good man!" He patted me roughly and bounded to the tunnel leading away. I followed but stole a wary glance behind me. The room seemed to taunt me with it's silence, but I pulled away from it when I heard the distant sounds of sword against sword.
XXXX
The earlier trance that had captivated me, that had numbed me to the brutality of fighting, was gone. There was no veil over my head, nothing muffled my thoughts, and my muscles were awkward and unyielding. But I had found the simple pattern that was fighting, my lack of skill was made up by my abundance of thought. For every swing there was a counter swing, for every block there was a swing. It was survival, and I barely kept my headed above water.
The imperial stroked down the final archer, the same flourish he used for every stroke. I had to admit I was a little jealous.
"You know for a beginner you're really good." He said as he stripped the archer of his bow and arrows.
"What were you doing in Helgen?" I asked. We neared the open mouth of a cave, we walked into it. Granite walkways slowly transformed into untamed earth. Moss hung down, brushing our shoulders, and the air significantly cooled.
"I was sent by my jarl, we had received word that Sam Stormcloak was captured and sent to be executed at Helgen."
"Sam?"
"Yeah, what rock have you been living under? He caused the civil war that's been tearing apart Skyrim. He brought war to our lands."
"I didn't live under a rock! I was just never told about the politics in Skyrim."
"Well you choose a bad time to come out of your shell Rachel. Sam killed the king, challenged him to battle and shouted him apart."
"Shouted?" I paused and looked at him skeptically. Was this another one of his ill humored jokes?
"Yeah, shouted. I'm serious." He motioned for me to draw near. Warily I closed in and he pointed across the cave to a lumbering mass of fur.
"A bear, we could sneak past it."
I nodded eagerly. This was his first sane plan, there's hope for him yet.
"Or we could ATTACK!" He sprung off at a full sprint toward the bear. I stood with my mouth slightly agape but dashed to him when I heard the roar of the bear.
The thing reared back, his teeth glowed white amiss the brown of his fur. The imperial grunted as the bear closed his jaws around his iron clad arm. He twisted and I saw my opening, with a lunge I buried my sword into the bear. It let go of the imperial and staggered away from me, before collapsing into a heap. I grabbed my sword and pulled it out of the bear, sticky blood coated it and I wrinkled my nose.
"Hahaha! The rush of battle! C'mon let's get out of here." He chuckled and I noticed that he held his arm tightly.
"Are you ok?" I withdrew my sword, and took his arm.
"Eh, it's just a scratch." He shrugged and winced when I applied pressure.
"You're an idiot." I mumbled, warmth flowed through my hands as I summoned my magic. My hands glowed a vanilla white, and I covered his wound. I pulled away when my hands suddenly grew cold, signifying I was done. I pulled back, and wiped the blood off my hands.
"Eh, but this idiot survived a dragon attack."
"Whatever."
We neared the mouth of the cave, and I squinted as I peered into the snowy white of Skyrim. Everything looked so clean, the snow fell in languid flakes, the land was draped in white. It was a drastic contrast to the dim lighting in the cave, out here I could almost forget the blood staining my imperial brushed past me, tugging me with a hand on my shoulder. We crouched behind a crop of rocks at the foot of cave and watched the skies warily.
I saw the long coiled body of the dragon swimming through the air, strange how I owed the creature my life.
"It's gone, heading to the north... We should be safe. For now anyway." He straightened up and held out his hand. "I'm Puck by the way."
"Nice to meet you Puck." I shook his hand.
"I have an uncle who doesn't live too far from here, lives in Riverwood actually. We should head there to rest, it's the least I could do."
"That sounds good."
We trudged through the snow to the weather beaten path Puck lead me to. As my boots touched the slick cobbles I couldn't help but glance up to the smoky remains of Helgen. Smoke billowed up, most of the towers were collapsed in on themselves like they couldn't stand the burden of their own weight.
I hoped for the sake of Skyrim that the Dragonborn wasn't a myth.
XXXX
Completed Quest: Unbound.
Started Quest: Before The Storm.
Level Up!
Nord (Female)
Stone: Warrior
Level 3
Magica: 100
Health: 120
Stamina:110
New Perks:
Barbarian (1)-Two Handed weapons do 20% more damage.
Agile Defender (1)- Increases armor rating for light armor by 20%.
Skills:
Heavy Armor 15
Smithing 15
Block 23
Two Handed 27
One Handed 20
Archery 15
Light Armor 23
Sneak 15
Lockpicking 15
Pickpocket 15
Speech 20
Alchemy 15
Illusion 15
Conjuration 15
Destruction 15
Restoration 19
Alteration 15
Enchanting 15
Race Power:
Battle Cry- Nearby enemies are frightened for 30 seconds.