So... um, hi! Not really sure what I'm doing. This is my first fanfiction piece ever... but I think I'm suppose to write something here about the story?
Well, whether I am or not, it's here.
So, this entire story, for however long it's going to be (I am planning on adding more chapters once I figure out how this site works), is going to be written about the main 'hero of Skyrim', from the viewpoints of NPCs, monsters, housecarls, etc.
This chapter is written from the perspective of the Imperial guard driving the cart carrying the hero when he/she first wakes up. It's more his thoughts than movements, as I didn't really need to put in movements to get ideas across. But as this is in the first person and I most often write in the third person, the following chapters are like to be completely different. But it all really depends on who's perspective I'm writing from then, I suppose.
But enough of that. Please review! I really do need the feedback and help!
I've been doing this so long, it's automatic. Steer the horses 'round all the dips in the road, flick them a bit when they slow, yada yada. It may be boring, but there ain't much else I can do, is there?
Imperials, Stormcloaks, who gives a skeever's spit? Sure, I wear the red uniform, but when've I ever cared? The Imperials pay me, so I keep my head down an' my mouth shut.
But never did I think that one of these days I'd be transporting Ulfric Stormcloak! Makes me a little nervous to know he's on my cart. Maybe I'm a teeny bit afraid of him. That a crime? No-one said bravery was in the job description!
Maybe I oughta flick them horses and drive a bit faster, then? Don't want them to be late for the headsman's axe. 'Specially not when General Tullius himself will be there! Still, this ain't the only cart transporting prisoners. Only the most important.
Divines, they blather on, don't they? Ulfric this, Imperials that. And 'twas easy to tell when that woman woke. Both of 'em were tripping over themselves to speak to her.
Not too sad though. She was quite a pretty thing, though nothing good can come of trusting them high elves... no, magic users oughtn't be trusted. She's probably a Thalmor. Not that it matters. She's headed to her death as well. So all's good.
No, not all's good. Really, they're starting to drive me mad. They've been yapping on and on and on since we left the border!
"Shut up back there!" I had to say something 'for they drove me mad, didn't I? I may only be an uneducated cart-driver but don't I deserve a little peace?
Didn't really work, did it? I can still hear them prattling. At least the gates are close though. I can finally be rid of them. Good! I've got a splitting headache, and if I have to listen to one more minute of how Ulfric Stormcloak is the 'true high king', I'm just gonna keel over.
None of the people in Helgen like the look of this. It's on their faces. Fear, worry. That kid ain't got no idea what's going on. Lucky bastard, he won't have to watch the execution. I'm expected to. Imperial and all that.
Now, what them Imperials do is their own business. But why have I gotta stand there and watch it too? Mayhaps it wouldn't be so bad if they only executed men. But I know that girl ain't got no chance of surviving the day. Poor broad, it'll be a shame to see her head in that basket. Though it'll be much less pretty, that's for sure. So mayhaps it won't be so bad after all. By now I think I'm used to it. Still, it just don't seem right, killing a young woman like that.
Finally, this whole damn trip's at an end. Now I just gotta get them prisoners down, watch the killings, and I can grab a nice ale in the bar and forget the whole thing. I can almost taste that spiced brew already, and I think it's that damned Stormcloak's fault for mentioning spiced mead.
Oh, skeever's spit, now I'm thirsty! And they still got the whole processing, list, blessings and then the killings to do.
Mayhaps they'll let me leave early.
Or mayhaps I better keep my head down, my mouth shut, and do what's asked of me. And maybe I'll survive this whole damn war. Even if it means the death of the girl, the death of Ulfric, and everyone on that cart. Hells, I'd even kill them myself if it meant the end to this war.
But it might.
And I won't have to.
So I suppose I'm doing alright.
