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Chapter 1 - Unbound
When Yssha regained consciousness, her head hurt and she felt dazed. She tried to reach for the sorest spot, and discovered her hands were bound. Huh? She remembered approaching the Skyrim border, but then what? How had she gotten in this jolting cart, hands tied, shabby clothing and boots replacing her leather armor?
"Hey, you. You're finally awake."
Yssha stifled a groan. "Sort of, I think. Do you know what happened?"
"You were trying to cross the border, right?"
"Yes. My adventuring year, and no one in the clan had done that in Skyrim yet."
The man, a Nord wearing blue, chuckled. "Not exactly wise, at this time. You got caught in an Imperial ambush, like the rest of us."
She'd managed to notice that of the three men, one was gagged. The other, who hadn't spoken yet, grimaced. "Damn you Stormcloaks! Everything was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they wouldn't have been looking for you, I would've stolen that horse and be half way to Hammerfell!"
A horse thief? Yssha snarled. She didn't particularly like horses, despite being an accomplished rider, but horse thieves deserved whatever they got, considering how useful horses were.
The first Nord ignored the insult. "We're all brothers and sisters in bonds now, thief."
The Imperial soldier driving the cart looked back at his cargo. "Shut up back there."
"What's wrong with him, huh?" the thief asked, gesturing to the third man in the cart, the one who was gagged as well as bound like the rest of them.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" the one who'd first spoken replied sharply.
The thief paled. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion ... But if they captured you..." He clearly began to panic. "Oh gods... Where are they taking us?"
Even in her dazed state, Yssha could understand that, and share it to a degree. However she'd done it, she'd managed to get captured with a group of rebels - worse, a group that included their leader. Since she was the only one in rags, she guessed the Stormcloaks had captured her first, despite the first man saying she'd been caught with them while crossing the border. The Imperials undoubtedly thought she was one of them, and with no way of proving her identity, she couldn't really blame them.
The first man spoke again, turning his head toward the town becoming visible as the cart emerged from the woods. "I don't know where we're going... But Sovngarde awaits."
Yssha nodded to herself. Sovngarde was the Nord paradise, and the man's words just confirmed what she'd thought. It looked pretty bad, but she refused to give up hope. Hadn't Greats-Grandmother Ysshaya been a captive at the beginning of her adventuring career, too? And just look at what she'd accomplished after her escape! Granted, it would take a miracle from the Nine themselves for her to escape, but she had faith in the Nine, especially Akatosh and Talos. She sent up a brief prayer, then paid attention to the others again.
"No.. This can't be happening, this isn't happening..." the thief protested.
There was a brief silence before the first man spoke again. "Hey.. What village are you from, horse thief?"
"Why do you care?" the thief asked bitterly.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
There was another brief silence, then, "Rorikstead... I'm... I'm from Rorikstead.."
The cart was approaching the walled city's open gates. "General Tullius sir, the headsman is waiting!" a guard called from above the gate.
An Imperial officer on horseback behind them called back, "Good. Let's get this over with."
The thief's panic became more open. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." Yssha shared the prayers, but her contempt for the horse thief himself grew. The odds were strong she would die, but with Talos' support, she would do it as befit a greats-grandchild of the Hero of Kvatch and the Divine Crusader.
"Look at him... General Tullius, the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him," the first man said.
Yssha snarled, her ears going back. Thalmor! The ones who'd imposed the White-Gold Concordat and went around persecuting any Talos worshippers they dared to. They hadn't dared go after Greats-Grandmother or her Knights of the Nine, but few others were safe. She detested them, and considered them fair game. The Empire disagreed with that, at least officially, but they did tend to turn a blind eye to Talos worship as much as they could.
"Damn Elves. I bet they have something to do with this." The first man looked around as they drove through the gates. "This is Helgen. I wonder if Velod still makes that mead with juniper berries mixed in.." He chuckled slightly. "Funny.. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.."
Yssha would have smiled at his words, but Khajiit weren't built for it, at least not in a way most humans or mer recognized. She looked around, to see a boy in front of a house. "Who are they, Papa? Where are they going?"
The boy's father put a hand on his shoulder. "You need to get inside."
"Why?" the boy protested. "I want to watch the soldiers."
The father pushed him to the door. "Inside the house. Now."
The boy went inside, grumbling.
The carriage was slowing. "Why are we stopping?" the horse thief demanded, his voice shaky.
"Why do you think?" the first man said. "End of the line."
The carriage stopped and the first man began to rise. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
Yssha rose as well. She was shaky, which was annoying. Yes, she was frightened, but that wasn't why she was shaky, and she was unhappy that anyone might think it was.
"No! We're not rebels! You can't do this!" the thief protested.
The first man - Yssha wished she knew his name - said, "Face your death with some courage, thief."
The thief turned to Ulfric. "You've got to tell them, we weren't with you! This is a mistake!" He got out of the carriage with the rest of them, though.
A female Imperial officer called out, "Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!"
The first man grumbled, "Empire loves their damn lists.."
Another Imperial soldier read from the list he held. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm."
Ulfric walked towards the block, and the first man gave him a respectful nod. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric."
The next name gave her the one she'd wanted. "Ralof of Riverwood." He also walked towards the block.
"Lokir of Rorikstead."
The horse-thief's panic was full-blown now. "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" And he dashed up the street.
"Halt!"
Lokir kept running. "You're not going to kill me!"
"Archers!" the woman officer snapped.
The response was immediate - good discipline, Yssha thought - and seconds later, Lokir was dead in the street.
"Anybody else feel like running?"
The list-reader's attention finally turned to her. "Wait ... You there. Step forward." When she moved a bit closer, he continued. "Who are you?"
Yssha drew herself up. Not that he would believe her, not the way she was dressed, and of course she couldn't prove her identity, but ... "I am Yssha, of Clan and Family Ysshaya."
She was right, but the man had excellent control; he only looked a little dubious when he said, "You claim a noble and honorable family, Khajiit." He turned to the woman. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."
As Yssha had expected at this point, the captain replied, "Forget the list. She goes to the block."
The soldier nodded. "By your orders, Captain." He turned back to Yssha. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil and the Family you claim. Follow the captain, prisoner."
Yssha ignored the rest for a bit, composing herself and offering what were probably her final prayers, until a deep roar echoed through the streets. "What was that?" someone demanded.
"It's nothing. Carry on."
"Yes, general Tullius!" the captain responded. She turned to a priestess standing next to her. "Give them their last rites." The priestess raises her hands to the sky. "As we commend you souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are-"
A Stormcloak near Yssha interrupted, moving to the block. She closed her eyes and quit listening. She'd seen beheadings before, and saw no reason to watch this one. A thud and the smell of blood told her when it was done; her imagination did the rest.
"Next, the cat!"
Yssha moved forward as the roar sounded again. She was curious about its origin, but at this point, certain she'd never find out.
She was wrong. Her head was forced to the block, and the headsman was raising his weapon, when something huge and black landed on the city's keep and roared again.
"Dragon!" someone yelled. Then confusion made her dazedness worse, and she wasn't sure what was happening, other than running and yelling. The next thing she was sure of, Ralof and the list-reader - Hadvar, she learned - were yelling at each other, both of them calling for her to follow.
For one of her Clan and Family, the response was automatic; she followed Hadvar into the keep, and a barracks room where he cut her free, urging her to find armor and weapons. It wasn't great quality, but she did feel more comfortable armed and armored. It helped even more that her dizziness and nausea were starting to subside; with Legionnaires and Stormcloaks both in the keep, there was bound to be fighting.
She found out almost immediately that she was right. Down a corridor, they found a room with one dead Stormcloak and two living ones. Yssha still wasn't back to top form after what she'd been through, but Greats-Grandmother had seen to her training personally, so she was used to fighting at less than her best. She managed one of the Stormcloaks while Hadvar took out the other.
These were more difficult than the bandits she'd fought back in Cyrodiil, but then these were trained soldiers, like the Knights she'd been fostered with, though not that good. She took time to gather what loot she could; she'd need money to live on until she could get to Whiterun, with no idea how long that would be. Into a storeroom with two more Stormcloaks and a repeat of the previous battle. Hadvar urged her to go through the barrels for supplies, which she did, finding a sack as well to carry her loot in. A backpack would have been better, but there were none laying around.
They came to an interrogation room next, Hadvar expressing his regret that torture for information was a necessity. Yssha agreed, but had to save her breath for a battle with the three Stormcloaks who were also there. After the battle, Hadvar gave her a couple of lockpicks, suggesting she try to open a cell with a dead mage inside.
These lockpicks weren't exactly like the ones she'd trained with, but Yssha had no trouble with the lock, and soon had the valuables (including the mage's robe and hood) in her loot bag. She spotted a knapsack on a nearby table. It was too small for her loot, but did contain more lockpicks, and there was a book she hadn't read that probably held more information about Skyrim, so she added that as well.
Through more corridors, until they came to what looked like a natural cave, with still more Stormcloaks. Yssha spotted a pool of oil, far enough from her and Hadvar to be safe for them, and cast a Flame spell to ignite it and at least distract the Stormcloaks. She cat-grinned as it caught, then turned her attention to the closer Stormcloaks. It took longer this time, since there were more of them, and she and Hadvar both sported wounds when the battle was over. She took time to heal both of them, which surprised him.
Hadvar started to ask her about some things, then shook his head. It could wait till they got out of here and on the road to Riverwood, at least, but it was nice not to have to wait till he could find a real Healer. They were at a drawbridge now, and he pulled the lever to lower it. They'd barely gotten across before a rockfall destroyed it. "Won't be going back that way," he commented drily.
"I don't think so," Yssha agreed in a similar tone. "Uh-oh, what are those things?" Something large, but it was so dim even her Khajiit night-vision couldn't make them out until they got closer. They looked like spiders, but much too large -
"Frostbite spiders," Hadvar said. "Watch out, they spit poison."
Yssha yowled as one of them hit her with just that. Her armor kept most of it off, but she did get a few spatters on unprotected fur, and what got through to skin hurt! She attacked the closest one, wishing she had a mace for this rather than a sword, but no such luck. Once they were dead, the two continued on, deeper into the caverns. Not long afterward, Hadvar handed her a bow and some arrows, suggesting they sneak past a bear he'd spotted ahead.
Yssha agreed, and went into stealth mode. She wasn't horrible at archery, but it wasn't her strongest skill, either. Finally, she saw light ahead, and felt a sense of relief as they emerged from the cave.
She heard something overhead as Hadvar urged her down. She looked up at the sky, and saw the dragon flying over as the two of them crouched near a rock.
Eventually, when it didn't return, Hadvar rose. "I think it's gone for good. Let's get down to Riverwood. I'll introduce you to my uncle Alvor, the smith, and his wife Sigrid. And you can sell some of that stuff at the Riverwood Trader." He paused. "You were good back there. And thanks for the healing - I certainly wasn't expecting that. You acted like a veteran."
Yssha purred briefly at the compliments. "Thank you. I've never been attacked by a dragon before - I thought they went extinct ages ago - but that was far from my first dungeon run."
"I can believe it," Hadvar said, as they started down the road. "I'm not a very good judge of Khajiit age, but you seem young to have been in many dungeons. You're a much better fighter than I'd have guessed from your apparent age, too, and a bit of a mage as well. That's rare."
Yssha came as close to chuckling as she could. "I told you my Clan and Family. For us, it's not even all than unusual, considering Greats-Grandmother's abilities."
"Yes, you did - and now I think I believe you. Greats-Grandmother would be the most honored Ysshaya, Hero of Kvatch, Champion of Cyrodiil - "
"And a great many other titles." Yssha broke in before he could recite the whole list.
"Pardon me for asking, but when did she die? I would have thought that would be news throughout the Empire."
Yssha 'chuckled' again. "I'm sure it would have been, but I interrupted before you got to her title as Archmage of the Mages Guild at Arcane University. Powerful mages, which she is, can live an awfully long time. She is alive and well, still looks about my age, and oversaw my training personally." Yssha hid a wince at the memory. "So, while I am the first to admit I have a tremendous amount still to learn, I am also not your typical novice adventurer."
"I can testify to that, and will as soon as I get to Solitude and report in. You ought to think about joining up; you'd be a terrific legionnaire. If I were you, though, I'd avoid Imperial encounters until you can get to Solitude yourself, and get a pardon from General Tullius."
That sounded like excellent advice, so Yssha nodded. "I will, thanks."
They walked on silently for a bit, then Hadvar pointed up and to their left. "See that ruin up there? Bleak Falls Barrow. When I was a boy, that place always used to give me nightmares. Draugr creeping down the mountain to climb through my window at night, that kind of thing. I admit, I still don't much like the look of it."
"Draugr?" Yssha asked. "I've read about them, but the books we have didn't go into much detail. I gather they are some sort of undead?"
"Yes, Nords who died and were buried in the barrow. We don't know how they got reanimated, but they're dangerous, even the relatively weak ones. I'd hate to face one alone."
Then she wouldn't, Yssha decided. Her 'equivalency stipend' should allow that, as well as the base of operations and two or three months of maintenance, especially if she could supplement it with recovered loot.
Which reminded her. The stipend had been entrusted to the Jarl's steward at Whiterun, so she had to get there. "Is Whiterun far from Riverwood? My clan has some money for me there."
Hadvar laughed. "Not a typical adventuring novice at all, with money waiting! No, it's only a couple of hours' walk. But why would your clan send money ahead?" He paused. "I'm not trying to pry, it's just extremely unusual."
"I am of an unusual clan, remember? Well, those of the clan who do their adventure year within Cyrodiil - which is most of them - have the clanhomes to live in, store their loot, sleep safely, and eat until they either decide on another way of life, or their adventuring can support them. Those of us who decide to take our year out-province are given a one-time stipend so we are not placed at a disadvantage."
"Ah." Hadvar nodded. Definitely an unusual clan and family, but what else could one expect from the Champion of Cyrodiil? "May I ask why you chose Skyrim?"
"Because no one else in the Clan had come here," Yssha replied promptly. "Your terrible weather, you know." She hesitated. "And ... Greats-Grandmother had a feeling, the same one that made her take my training under her command, that this was the place I should come. This one does not challenge the Divine Crusader's feelings."
Hadvar swallowed a curse. Damn, she was right, and suddenly slipping into super-formal mode was ... unsettling, when she didn't normally use it. "Our weather isn't always awful," he said cautiously. "Falkreath Hold can be very nice most of the year, if you can find a place there."
Yssha was surprised, but all she said was, "Thank you. I will try."
They walked quietly for a bit more, then Yssha saw what looked like Standing Stones, and Hadvar almost immediately pointed them out. "These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape. Go ahead, see for yourself."
Yssha obeyed. Thief, Mage, and Warrior Stones, was it? She'd had training in all three disciplines, but Warrior appealed to her most, so she approached and touched that one. She felt a surge of warmth, and turned back to Hadvar.
"Warrior, good! I knew you shouldn't have been on that cart the minute I laid eyes on you."
Yes, he'd protested that she wasn't on the list, which had been all he could do under Legion discipline.
They continued to Riverwood in companionable silence, interrupted only by a couple of wolves, which they handled easily.
Riverwood was a small town, not particularly impressive, but not shabby like some, either. Hadvar led Yssha to the blacksmith, and they spoke briefly before going inside. The family talk, once there, rather left her out, but gave her a chance to eat and rest, so she didn't object.
She did need to know one more thing, though, after she'd agreed to take a message to the Jarl of Whiterun for Alvor - which fit her own needs, after all. She followed Hadvar over to a corner table near a bed. "Hadvar ... when I crossed the Skyrim border, I was wearing acceptable, if not really good, leather armor, and had a steel sword. When I woke in the cart, I was in rags. The rest were in what looked like their own clothes, even the horse thief. Do you have any idea why?"
Hadvar frowned. then spoke slowly. "You're from Cyrodiil, so you know the Empire doesn't steal prisoners' clothing. If the horse thief had, he would've been wearing your armor. So I can only guess - and that's all it is - the culprit was the Stormcloaks, before the ambush."
Yssha nodded. "That was my analysis, as well, though less detailed. So yes, I shall join the Legion when I reach Solitude. Though that may take some time; Greats-Grandmother made some recommendations I need to take care of first."
Knowing Greats-Grandmother's identity, Hadvar nodded. "Of course. Just remember to stay clear of Imperial soldiers until you've spoken to General Tullius."
"I will."
Yssha made her way to Whiterun, after selling her loot in the Riverwood Trader and accepting a task from its owner (Greats-Grandmother said to always accept tasks, unless you had a compelling reason not to). It was an easy trip, in pleasant weather, and the only obstacle was a couple of wolves. As she neared the city, she saw a giant under attack by some warriors, but by the time she got there, the battle was over, so she shrugged and continued her journey.