I guess… it started in Helgen.
History will probably mark the day of the near-execution as the start of the Crisis… but I don't agree with that. For me, the Dragon Crisis started with me being found near Helgen.
As for what actually happened… I don't remember. That whole day is a blur of near-escapes from the Empire's border guard, pain from the blood in my veins beginning to freeze, and exhaustion as I dragged myself through the frigid peaks that separate Skyrim from Cyrodiil. I didn't even remember why I had come north when I woke up…
Book One: The Crisis Begins... Chapter One: Alduin's WingsI wasn't awake when they found me.
They were a hunting party out of Helgen. Had the Jarl down in Falkreath's permission to hunt some of his animals to help deal with Helgen's food problem. The war had… well it had made the supplies of food to Helgen unreliable. Bandits and Stormcloaks liked to hit traders for supplies, and food was one of the more valuable things in Skyrim.
They had chased this big white stag, a creature almost unlike any other, through what they reckoned to be about half of Falkreath Hold before they found me. I was up near the timber-line, half buried in snow the way they tell it. I was wearing a heavy cloak and some decent clothing… but I had succumbed to cold all the same. They thought that I had passed out from hypothermia while trying to get a fire going, because they found a circle of stones, with some sticks buried under a few inches of snow in the center.
They checked my body, just in case I had only recently fallen. My lips were apparently blue… but I still had a pulse. Albeit a weak and very slow pulse. They had already bagged some smaller animals, birds mostly, while hunting. So they figured that they could let the white stag go uncaught for a while longer, and save my life in the process.
They used my cloak to make a stretcher, and they carried me back to Helgen under their own strength. Gods… I wish I could have repaid them for their kindness. Helgen was something of an Imperial Outpost… so they had a trained healer with some experience from the Great War to his name. Funny thing was that I didn't need his help, because of the amulet I wore.
It was solid gold, with a ruby in the center. Some inscriptions in a language that nobody recognized ran along the outer edge of it. But it wasn't the physical aspects of the amulet that were noticed. No… what the healer recognized was the amulet's enchantment. The thing accelerated the natural healing abilities of the body… to the point where I am effectively immune to hypothermia. I still wind up unconscious… but I'm in no danger of losing limbs because the damage done to anything heals back immediately, good as new. Thing is worth a fortune, or maybe two.
Anyway, the healer just told those guys to get me into someplace warm. They asked around Helgen, and one of the locals volunteered to take me in until I woke up. Took a few days for that to happen though. If not for my amulet… I probably wouldn't have come out of that very well.
Anyway… I woke up a few days later. Guy who took me in's daughter was keeping a watch over me. Regrettably… I didn't bother to learn her name, or anyone's really. I was… a bit freaked out. Because… I didn't come out of that little brush with death completely fine. I… lost something.
More like I lost everything really. My memories, my past, everything before I woke up that day was just gone. Locked up in some dark corner of my psyche, or erased from my mind. I panicked when I woke up… girl managed to calm me down but still… it was horrifying. I must have spent the next three days either talking to visitors in the vain hope of someone recognizing me, or talking to the hunting party just to find out what they knew about me. In the end, I didn't learn anything.
Drove me near mad for a time.
But… something happened before I had time to come up with a plan to figure out where I had come from, or what I was doing in Skyrim: Alduin returned. I still remember that day just as clearly as eating an hour ago and I can't believe how different I was back then…
-~-~-~- Helgen Square -~-~-~-
I stood on the porch of one of the locals, Thorolf or something, I forget his name, as the wagons rolled in. Thorolf was an old man, but still fairly healthy. Haven't met many Nords that aren't, I guess the Skyrim Winter kills the ones that can't survive.
We just want the convoy roll in. We had heard the announcement a few hours before of course, we got word ahead of the convoy that some important rebels had been caught, and were being brought to our corner of the world for their execution. One guy told his son to head inside, get somewhere where he wouldn't see just how easy it was to end a life. Kid said he wanted to watch the soldiers. Father called him "Little cub."
It's funny what stays with you.
I saw the carts stop, they were parked near one of Helgen's internal walls. City used to be a fort that slowly grew into a town, except that it never left its outer walls. Meant that we had a set of internal walls dividing the little village into three wards. One was just a courtyard, one was where most traffic flowed, and one… one was where the execution took place.
The prisoners, bar three, all wore the same uniform. It was similar to the standard guards' uniform in skyrim. A few layers of leather and cloth, with chainmail in the center, and a tabard over the top to show which hold they served. These guys had sky-blue tabards. The colors of Windhelm, the colors of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.
Two of the three unique prisoners just wore rags. I guessed they were just common criminals, intended to be executed along with the Stormcloaks to underline that the Empire of Tamriel saw them as criminals, not enemies worthy of the respect of being executed with honor.
The third… was the man himself. He wore the kind of clothing you expect from Skyrim's nobility. Furs, fine cloth, and a layer of chainmail just in case you forgot what a warrior culture the Nords have. Only he went all the way with his clothing, wearing plate boots and what looked like leather gauntlets with a few metal plates attached as well. He was definitely a Nord: tall, fair hair, fair skin, and enough muscle to make you get confused about Trolls ability to interbreed with Men and Mer.
His name was called out by an Imperial Lieutenant or something, I'm not too familiar with the Legion. The name itself was, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." Then it was followed by, "Lokir of Rorikstead."
Poor Lokir was one of the normaly criminals, in simple rags. I get the feeling that he didn't quite get the point of his execution, because he immediately shouted, "WE AREN'T REBELS! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" then he tried to run.
The Imperial's captain just shouted, "ARCHERS!" without even bothering to turn around. Less than three seconds later, Lokir of Rorikstead lay dead on the ground doing a passable impersonation of a pincushion. The Legionaries hadn't even paused for a moment before letting the arrows fly.
"Ralof of Riverwood," came next. He was a stormcloak, looked fairly similar to the Jarl. Except for the face, it was a bit… kinder I suppose.
The last person in line… wasn't on the list apparently. She was a Redguard, one of the dark-skinned people from Hammerfell. You won't find more skilled warriors anywhere in Tamriel. Where Nords seem to rely on brute strength, the Redguards always seem to rely on raw skill… and enough strength to back that skill of course. The lieutenant asked her for her name. She said it was, "Lairah."
The Legion lieutenant paused when she said that and turned to his superior to ask, "Captain, what should we do? She isn't on the list."
"Forget the list," the Lieutenant said, "she goes to the block."
The captain wasn't at an angle where she could read the guy's features, she was standing a half step in front of him. But I caught them clearly, I could read his regret in the way his shoulders sank slightly, and his knowledge that he was doing something that was fundamentally against his nature showed in a the way he just… shrank for a moment. I got the feeling that he believed in the rules, and that the Legion needed to follow them just as much as the people they were supposed to protect. I would have put a few hundred Septims on him having closed his eyes at that moment too, and having swallowed hard enough to be visible.
That moment taught me something about myself too, most of my skills were still with me. I just couldn't remember them, or where I had learned them. I could read the man's body language like a book without even thinking about it. I could understand a fundamental aspect of his personality just by looking at a reaction to something like that.
I wondered what else I knew how to do. I never could have expected what I learned after that.
The man recovered in less than a second, and then said, "I'm sorry. We will make sure your remains are returned to Hammerfell."
The Prisoner's eyes just… died in that moment. I think it was her realizing the inevitable was upon her. I honestly didn't think she deserved to be executed though. I'm wasn't sure where the instinct came from, but something about her bearing told me that she wasn't a criminal. She held herself with too much pride, like she didn't understand the concept of self-doubt.
The prisoners got lined up after that. In neat rows. The Empire was putting on a little show. Gods know that Imperials like their executions like they like their theater and their Arena: with lots of spectacle and protocol.
The General himself was there, Tullius. He was in command of about half of the Legions at the moment, using them to put down Ulfric Stormcloak's rebellion. Told the man himself that much. Last lines of the speech were the ones that stuck with me though, "You started this war. Plunged Skyrim into Chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."
Ulfric tried to say something through the gag they had put on him, to keep him from killing anyone like he had killed the High King. People say he Shouted Torygg apart. Just three words… and the man's remains stopped being recognizable as human. I couldn't blame the Empire for taking precautions if the man had that kind of power.
A Priestess of Arkay tried to give last rites to the Stormcloaks. She only made it as far as "Blessings of the Eight Divines" before one of the STormcloaks shouted, "For the love of Talos, lets just get this over with." Then he walked right up to the headsman's block without being summoned. I have to give it to that guy, man had stones. Shattered the Empire's little show right then and there. Also got off one line just before the headsman's axe dropped: "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?"
I couldn't look away as the axe fell. Small part of me wanted too, and that part fought a war across my mind against the parts that held my body still, just watching with morbid fascination. I mean… the guy's life was over so quickly. Just half a second after his last breath the axe fell, and his head rolled.
Then that damned captain said, "Next! The Redguard!"
The injustice of it angered me for some reason… and my hand went to my side like it knew what it was doing… looking for the hilt of a weapon. I longed to kill that… bitch. But I was unarmed… and she had enough soldiers nearby that I wouldn't make it anywhere nearby before being shot dead, stabbed, and generally disassembled.
So I closed my eyes, and reigned in my temper. That's when Oblivion broke loose.
The first thing I heard was the creature's roar. It was very distinctive, sounded like it was coming down a metal tube, making the tube vibrate along with the actual animal cry. It was musical, and disjointed all at the same time.
Everyone froze the moment they heard the cry. The prisoner, Lairah, was right in front of the block. One of the Legionnaires asked, "What was that?"
The bitch said, "It was nothing, carry on."
"By your orders," the Lieutenant said, but I could tell he did not appreciate having to follow them, "Captain."
The Redguard was forced down to the block. She didn't help them… but she didn't resist. My mind started randomly throwing scenarios together, trying to figure out some way I could stop that scene. I guessed that I had a thing about damsels in distress or something at the time. In the end, I didn't have to intervene. Something else took care of that.
The noise came again, the creature's roar. One of the Village's guards on the outer walls shouted, "WHAT IN OBLIVION IS THAT?!" The Captain turned and shouted, "SENTRIES! What do you see?" The headsman raised his axe… and the answer landed right on top of Helgen's central tower and the force of it sent a shockwave through the ground, knocking the headsman down.
The creature was massive, easily larger than most of the houses in Helgen. Its wings alone were enough to darken the sky, and its massive body had to weigh several tons and was covered, tip to tail, in scales that each looked like ebony scythes. Its legs, and these strange graspers upon its wingtips, both settled down upon the tower to stabilize it. Then its long neck reached towards the sky, and its massive maw opened and a shriek that sounded like a furious fire spewed forth… and fire began to rain from the sky in response to the creature's call.
One of the townspeople shouted, "DRAGON!"
The falling flames killed several soldiers in the first few minutes, and the survivors scattered. They forgot entirely about the prisoners, who all fled into a tower… including the Redguard. That's when… well when instinct just woke up and took the reins. I sprinted away from the building I was taking cover under, feeling out through all my senses for a rush of wind, a roar of fire, or anything to warn me of one of the falling flames approach.
I dove into a slide as I approached one of the fallen Legionaries, coming to rest right next to the body. I tore the soldier's weapon from his belt, sheath and all, and clipped it onto my own belt. It felt heavier than whatever it was I was used to, but I figured the skills I had would translate over a bit. I looked up from the body… just in time to see the dragon make another pass over my head.
It just… grabbed a guy off one of the internal walls. He was standing right on the archway that allowed you to pass into the Keep's courtyard. The dragon's talons just plucked him right off the wall, and then slammed him through solid Imperial masonry as the wall collapsed under the dragon's weight… and then it was gone off into the air again. It discarded the man's corpse, probably aiming to drop it in the nearby lake, and then it circled back on the town.
I turned and got ready to run… but I wasn't fast enough to avoid what happened next. The wall connecting the central tower to the tower the prisoners had run for collapsed in on itself. I had no doubt that I could get over it, but with that dragon flying around I didn't like my odds. I needed to head for the Keep. See if I could take cover within it. I knew that if that Dragon really wanted me it would be able to tear through after me, but I also knew that it would probably go for the easier prey that it didn't have to smash a wall down for.
That hope was dashed a second later when the thing landed on the side of the tower the Stormcloaks and other prisoners had taken cover in, and smashed through the wall with its head upon landing. It pulled its head out a second later, not even stunned by the impact, and then opened its mouth and proved beyond any doubt that Dragons could breathe fire. I had a sudden mental image of a burnt corpse in a Stormcloak uniform a moment later.
The dragon then threw itself off of the tower and hovered for a moment before flying off again. I just stood there stunned. I mean… it isn't something you see every day is it? Then my instincts took over again, and I started running in the other direction, towards the collapsed wall that kept me from the keep. I figured I could climb over it in two minutes tops, probably more like thirty seconds.
I glanced back at the tower right before I went over, considering making a mad dash to the Stormcloaks and the prisoners, making sure they got out of here alive. I didn't have to though, they were already coming towards me. Probably planning to take cover in the keep just like me. The craziest bit was… well what the Redguard did. She jumped out of the hole in the tower's wall… and landed on the second floor of the very building I had been living in, the town's Inn, ever since I got back the strength to walk. I had a bit of a tab there, that I supposed I would never have to pay now.
What can I say? I will take my victories where I can get them.
After putting the sheer fox-like insanity of the Redguard out of my mind, I turned and began scampering over the rubble. Most of the stormcloaks followed, but Ulfric didn't. He said exactly why, "I'm not going anywhere until you are all clear." Or something along those lines, I can't remember it clearly. Was a bit of a stressful day.
Maybe three Stormcloaks made it over the wall before… well before the lizard showed up again. The Legion had archers on the central wall, just like the guy who had been grabbed. The dragon just flew over and roasted them all in their armor… and slagged the top layer of stone. Ulfric and the remaining Stormcloaks shouted that they would find another way, and to go on without them.
I didn't need any convincing.
Two of the Stormcloaks ran for the door to the keep, planning to take cover inside just like I did. But me and the last one, a blonde brute of a Nord whose name I thought was Ralof, stopped for a moment to take one last glance at Helgen… or what was left of it. The central tower was still in one piece… but the walls had collapsed at their archways, and the lone tower had begun to fall inwards on itself. Every building's roof was on fire… and the Redguard and Imperial Lieutenant were running for the Keep. Her hands were still bound in front of her… which made me wonder how she had managed to land successfully after jumping out of that tower.
"RALOF!" the Lieutenant shouted, "YOU DAMNED TRAITOR! OUT OF MY WAY!"
"We're escaping, Hadvar," the Stormcloak, whose name was definitely Ralof after all, said, "You're not stopping us this time."
"Fine!" The Imperial shouted, "I hope that dragon takes you all to-"
"Save it for the dragon!" I shouted.
The Imperial actually blinked and nearly stopped running at that.
Then… then the dragon showed up again. The wind off it nearly knocked me off my feet as it dived down and just… grabbed the Legionnaire and flew off with him its claws. The man dropped his sword as the dragon took off with him… so I knew that I wouldn't be seeing him again.
The Redguard's eyes got real wide as she realized what had happened, and she looked me right in the eye. Then she said, "I think I'll follow you instead, if it's not too much trouble."
I smiled at that, and then said, "Into the keep then."
Remember how I wanted to kill that bitch of an Imperial Captain? I got my chance sooner than I expected. We walked into the group to see both of the Stormcloaks who had gone before us lying dead on the ground… at the feet of the Captain and two imperials. The captain looked at us, and then she said, "More Stormcloaks," with enough acid in her voice to tell me that she wasn't reasonable enough to negotiate with.
My brain dropped into… I can only call it Tactics Mode. Time just slowed down, and I took in everything that my senses could provide. We were in a circular room, maybe twelve sword lengths in radius. We had three people, one in light armor, two unarmored. One unarmed, two armed with improvised weaponry that I wasn't even sure we both knew how to use effectively. The enemy had three people. One in heavy armor, with a sword and no shield. Two in light armor, sword, no shield. Legion hadn't been expecting the attack I guess.
I drew my blade without even having the thought of diplomacy reach my mind. That bitch had sentenced someone who was possibly innocent to the headsman's block without a second thought. I had no doubt in my mind that she had done worse, and that justice wouldn't come by any hands but mine. Ralof drew his weapon as well, and I marked him in my mind, following the sounds of his footsteps and the sounds of his clothing to keep track of his position.
"Stay behind us," I said to the Redguard.
Then I… well I learned something else about myself. I'm a damned good guy to have in a melee.
First to fall was one of the lightly armored Legionarres. I just darted forward towards him, blade held back as if to stab him in the heart. He raised his blade, ready to parry such a thrust… and I grabbed ahold of his wrist with my free hand while his attention was on my blade. Then I slammed the hilt of my weapon on his sword and forced him to drop it. A quick pommel to the head left his possibly dead, definitely knocked out.
At the same time, I tracked Ralof moving on the other lightly armored one. He had a crude iron waraxe, probably salvaged from the other tower. I had heard that the legion used it as a storehouse for old weapons. He brought it down like the wrath of Talos with both hands, smashing right through the Legionnaire's guard and maybe spraining the kid's wrist. Then he brought the axe back up, and right into the kid's chin. Kid had to be dead upon impact.
That's when the Imperial Captain made her move. She rushed at me with more speed than I thought was fair, seeing how she was in heavy armor. I rolled with it though. She slashed her sword, aiming for my midsection. I ducked, actually spinning on the ground and collecting my last opponent's sword. I wound up kneeling, looking up at the officer, with a imperial sword in either hand.
She brought her weapon down on me, all her strength behind the blow… and I caught it. I meshed the cruciform hilts of my blades together, and twisted as the imperial delivered her strike. There was too much downward momentum for me to stop, or to safely absorb, with just crossed blades. But… there wasn't much sideways momentum to overcome, so I was able to force the blade to the side.
The Officer's blade hit the stone of the floor, and I pinned it beneath my left hand weapon. I dropped the other, and grabbed the cruciform hilt of the blade in the other and pushed downward. I fought the Imperial's strength for about a second, before my superior leverage won out and she lost her grip.
I followed up with a shoulder into her sternum as I went for my feet, forcing her to the ground. I felt a… familiar feeling in my blood. An echo of the past you might say. My blood just… responded to the action. I felt the battle coming to a close, I felt my survival become all but assured, the risk of death becoming minimal… for me at least.
I carried the tackle through, forcing the Imperial to the ground, and then I brought my sword across her unarmored neck. She gagged a few times, and I was sprayed with blood from the arteries I had just severed… but she died without much further resistance.
I took a deep breath at that… and noted that I didn't regret killing her at all. I marked that for future review… and then I stood up and turned around. I saw the Stormcloak and Redguard both staring at me. I brought my hand up to my face… and tried to brush off the blood that I knew had sprayed there.
"I can see you are no friend to the empire," the Stormcloak said, a bit of… appreciation in his voice, and a lot of fear in his eyes.
"No friend to your rebellion either," I said, just to make it clear that I wasn't a recruitment prospect, "as far as I know. Anyway, we better get moving. Don't want any other imperials to come in here and pull a hammer and anvil on us."
The Stormcloak nodded, and headed off towards one of the ways out of the room. I turned and looked at the Redguard, Lairah. She still had her arms bound in front of her. I smiled in her direction, hoping the gesture looked friendly instead of something along the lines of: "Do I get to kill you now?"
Then I said, "Come over here, let me get those bindings off."
She nodded, in what I hoped was thanks, and offered her hands. I took the cleanest sword I had on hand, the one I had dropped, and severed the chord between the bindings. I would have to have something a bit more precise to risk cutting off the bands themselves.
The woman rolled her wrists, and put her arms through a few basic movements to make sure everything was working. Then she knelt by the officer and nearly took the officer's blade before turning to me and asking, "Do you mind?"
"Go ahead," I said, taking note of the question. The woman recognized the concept of Spoils of War apparently.
She took the weapon… and then said, "we don't have time for me to take that armor, do we?"
"Afraid not," I said. The woman's plate armor was too complicated, and getting enough padding to transfer it would have taken too much time.
Lairah looked at one of the fallen Stormcloaks, a woman. Small for a Nord… almost Lairah's size exactly. Ralof must have noticed her looking because he said, "Take Haema's gear. She won't be needing it anymore."
"Thank you," Lairah said, to both the living and the dead. Fortunately, the Stormcloak's armor was a slide on-slide off affair. So it didn't take too long for her to get more properly armored. Ralof offered Gunjar, the other fallen Stormcloak,'s old gear. I turned him down, I didn't want to wear the uniform for some reason. It felt… wrong somehow. Like putting that on would betray something else.
We got moving once Lairah had more proper protection… and of course we ran into more trouble. Because apparently Fate wanted to make my life absolutely miserable that day.