Hello everyone, this is my first Elder Scrolls story and the first story I plan on continuing for a while. Please review; constructive criticism would be nice!
Ja'Ri-Zaran knelt behind a bush, watching as a man, a dark-haired Nord, steal a horse of which was in a stable outside of a farm.
"Finally," the Horse Thief said aloud. "I can get to Hammerfell, away from this civil war. Gods, give me strength to get out of this place." Next, the horse thief began riding, slowly, away.
Ja'Ri-Zaran took out his Elven Dagger, the dagger of which had accompanied him across Tamriel, and slowly approached the back of the stolen horse. In one quick move, Ja'Ri-Zaran pulled the Horse Thief off the horse, put his arm around his neck and his hand over his mouth.
"Shh, quiet now Horse Thief. Just let me take the horse, and you get to live. Is that clear? Nod if you understand." The Thief did not nod, only rapidly increased trying to inhale and exhale. Ja'Ri-Zaranf tightened his grip.
"I don't want to kill you, Thief. Just let me take the horse and-" Ja'Ri-Zaran was cut off by the sounds of the Thief screaming wildly, pointing in the direction of the Cyrodiil border. Ja'Ri-Zaran took his hand away from the Thief's mouth, pointed the tip of his Dagger at his throat and put a finger to his mouth, signaling him to not make noise. It was dark, but Ja'Ri-Zaran's Khajiit eyes quickly adjusted his eyes to the darkness and could see as though it were day.
In the distance he saw various Nords, all accompanying a rather bulkier Nord. As he listened, he realized the Nord was Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion. Skyrim's politics were of little worry to Ja'Ri-Zaran's tribe in Elsweyr, but they knew enough that he led a rebellion against the Empire's rule in Skyrim. Ja'Ri-Zaran did not care for Nords much; many were racist towards Khajiit. He would prefer to avoid a confrontation, so he brought the Thief and himself down onto the floor and maneuvered into a bush.
Suddenly, an arrow zipped past Ulfric's head. In a second, the many Stormcloak soldiers made a circle around Ulfric, their weapons drawn. Out of the forest emerged what looked like dozens of Imperial soldiers, some with swords, maces, axes, others with bows and magic. General Tullius rode in calmly on a beautiful horse and smiled at Ulfric. Suddenly, some Stormcloak soldiers launched themselves at the Imperials, and a battle began.
An Imperial sliced the stomach of a Stormcloak, a Stormcloak put a sword through an Imperial's stomach. A mace slammed against someone's head, an axe took off another. Tullius had ridden away now, but his guards charged into battle. They were the fiercest. Blood flew everywhere; body's dropped like snow in The Pale. The sounds of weapons clanging together filled the air, along with the screams of men. It smelt of blood and sweat, something Ja'Ri-Zaran remembered from his tribe's battle with the Aldmeri Dominion. He quickly shook his head, repressing those memories.
It almost seemed as though the Stormcloaks were winning, until a dozen more imperials rode in on horses, slicing left and right at Stormcloak's heads. Now the sound of horses crying and their bodies dropping joined the sounds of battle. The Stormcloaks were surrounded on every side except behind them, every soldier fiercely fighting soldiers and cavalry alike to protect Ulfric. Suddenly, a large group of heavily armed cavalry flanked the Stormcloaks behind them, taking down dozens in a second.
"What in Oblivion?" Ja'Ri-Zaran questioned aloud as he stood up.
"Hey, asshole!" Ja'Ri-Zaran heard from behind him. The Horse Thief was behind him, holding a large branch from a tree. Finally, the Thief swung, the branch hitting Ja'Ri-Zaran bluntly on the head. The Khajiit fell, drifting in and out of consciousness.
"Gag Ulfric!" He heard Tullius yell as he faded back into consciousness, then immediately drifting out. Next time he awoke, he heard the Thief yelling. "No! Wait, I'm not a rebel! I was stealing this horse, th-then this Khajiit tried to steal it from me! No, I swear to Akatosh, I'm not lying! Please! No!" The Thief was silenced by the Imperials, and Ja'Ri-Zaran heard footsteps coming closer.
Rough hands then began picking up Ja'Ri-Zaran, throwing him into a wagon. He then faded out of consciousness yet again.