The night was cold, as all Skyrim nights are. Just as Nace had thought she'd begun to grow accustomed to them, they grew colder still. Her breath was visible before her in icy puffs and a shiver of worry traveled down her entire body. She was supposed to have come upon the next inn by now; she had followed the last inn keeper's directions to the letter, which included the warning of bandits flooding this particular area. The woman pulled her cloth cloak tighter around her shoulders and tugged the hood down over her head. Beneath her, she could feel the vibration of her horse's whinny of disagreement to their current course. She reached down and ran a hand over her steed's mane.

"It's alright," She whispered. "I'm sure we'll see it any moment, now."

The sudden sound of a twig breaking nearby caused her to jolt in her saddle. Her horse whinnied in argument again and nearly stopped. She urged him on as she surveyed the dark forest for any sign of trouble with one hand on the sword at her belt. The silence of the forest unnerved her and she was positive she saw something move in the darkness. A shadowed form leapt out of the space between two trees and directly towards her. Her horse whinnied loudly and reared back. The rider of the other horse jerked the reins to the side in an attempt to go around, but the two collided and both riders were thrown from their steeds.

Nace landed in a bluff of snow. Her hands fumbled for her sword as she thrashed in the powdery cover to stand. She finally reached her feet and pulled her weapon free, its point towards the stranger who had just sat up. A hood obscured a majority of the stranger's face, but a long, thin scar stretched across the lips. The stranger looked towards Nace and began to say something that was drown out by the thunder of more hooves. Nace paused and tried to find out where the sound was coming from when she was suddenly surrounded by Imperial soldiers on horseback with their weapons drawn. She looked in the stranger's direction for an explanation, but found the stranger had completely disappeared. Dark marks were left on the snow where the stranger had been, but Nace didn't have the time to wonder what they were as she was roughly disarmed and her hands bound by an Imperial. Another soldier approached the darker snow and examined it closely with a torch in hand.

"Hm," She said as if her initial guess had been correct. "It's blood, indeed. Fresh." She looked at Nace with contempt. "Assassin! You're under arrest for murder!"

"What!?" Nace gasped in horror and shook her head. "No! I-"

"There's more, Captain!" A third Imperial called attention to Nace's bag, which he had inspected while everything else had gone on. He pulled the bag off of her horse and held it with its mouth open to the captain. "Bones."

"More victims, no doubt," The Captain said in disgust. "Do you Stormcloaks truly know no bounds? You will pay for your crimes."

"Stormcloak?" Nace exclaimed as the Captain approached her. "No, you're mistaken! This is just a misunderstanding! There was another-"

"No more excuses," The Captain said. "Your kind has made more than enough excuses for their actions, but that will all soon come to an end." The Captain knocked Nace's head with the heel of her sword and knocked her unconscious. She loaded Nace's unconscious body onto the back of her horse and galloped away. They rejoined their regiment and loaded Nace into a carriage with the other prisoners and continued on their. A few miles down the road, Nace's eyes blinked open and through hazy eyes she saw the setting sun through the tall evergreens and felt the constant bump of the carriage she sat in.

"Hey, you," A man's voice said in her direction. Nace blinked her eyes some more and sat up, able to see more clearly the man dressed in a dark blue and chainmail uniform sitting diagonally across from her. "You're awake. You were trying to cross the border weren't you? To get away after killing that Imperial soldier?"

"I didn't kill anybody," Nace snapped groggily. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"Same here," A man at the other end of the bench piped up.

"The thief walked right into an Imperial ambush," The man in uniform said.

"Yeah," The thief said gruffly. "If it weren't for you Stormcloaks, I'd've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He looked to Nace. "We don't belong here, you and I. It's these Stormcloaks they're after."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds, thief," The Stormcloak soldier said.

"Shut up back there!" The Imperial soldier who drove the carriage barked. The thief rolled his eyes and looked to the man who sat beside Nace with his mouth gagged.

"What's wrong with him?" The thief asked.

"Watch your tongue!" The Stormcloak said angrily. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim!"

"Ulfric?" The thief repeated fearfully. "The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! But if they captured you then . . ." He stopped, afraid to go on. Nace felt a knot of fear form in her stomach. "Gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know friend," The Stormcloak soldier said. "But wherever it is, Sovngarde awaits."

"No, this can't be happening!" The thief cried. "This can't be happening!"

Nace listened to their conversation while she looked ahead and tried to figure out where they were going. A decrepit road sign crept up alongside of the carriage with writing scrawled in a barely visible script on its many directional arrows. She found the one that pointed in the direction they currently travelled, though she had to contort her neck to read it, and found it was labelled 'Helgen.' She returned her gaze to the road ahead of them and saw a tall wall approaching. The tall wooden gates stood wide open and ready to admit the Imperials.

"General Tullius, sir!" One of the soldiers stationed on the wall called. "The headsman awaits!"

"Good," An aged, strong voice answered. The dark-skinned man with silver hair and golden armor nodded. "Let's get this over with."

"Divines," The thief prayed. "Help me, please!"

People and children emerged from their homes to watch as the carriages rolled through the road and towards the crumbling, stone tower that marked the center of town. Citizens looked upon them all with cold, fixed stares and shouted obscenities. Finally, the carriage came to a stop and the prisoners inside were unloaded and marked off by an Imperial holding a paper and quill. Nace stepped out of the carriage, unable to take her eyes off of the bloodied stone block that sat at the feet of a masked man: the executioner. The soldier holding the list began to call off names.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," The soldier said and scribbled something onto the paper. "Jarl of Windhelm."

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" The Stormcloak who had been in Nace's carriage and now stood beside her.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

The outspoken Stormcloak slowly made his way towards the chopping block. For once, it seemed he didn't have anything to say.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel!" The thief, who had shaken like a leaf the entire time, finally stumbled forward. He knelt at the soldier's feet and pleaded tirelessly. The Imperial looked more than a little uncomfortable. "You can't do this!" The Imperial said nothing and looked away.

Lokir sprung to his feet, probably in the hopes of taking the Imperial soldiers by surprise when they were caught off guard by his display, and sprinted past the soldier and his accompanying Captain. The Captain shouted one final warning to stop before signaling the archers. Lokir didn't make it three more steps before an arrow pierced his back and sailed right through his torso. He collapsed, dead, without another sound.