In Ah Ven – Rup Gein
You Stand Before Me
By all accounts, today was a beautiful day. The morning sun was shining in a clear sky overhead, birds were chirping in the trees, and a faint breeze kept everyone cool. Falkreath Hold was especially quick to take advantage of the good weather. The south-western hold typically had rainy days, as evidenced by the flourishing growth that painted the landscape green.
However, one Nord in particular was not enjoying the weather. This Nord was sitting in the back of a prisoner cart with her hands bound. She was dressed in tattered rags and had several cuts on her arms and face. Despite this, her beauty was evident. She had even features, a smooth nose, rounded lips, and a pale skin tone. Her long, dark red- almost black- hair lay wild and loose around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed at the moment and her breathing was slow and deep. She was asleep.
In the cart with her were three other Nords. Directly across from her was a soldier with long blond hair that was tied back. He was dressed in the blue and brown armor of the Stormcloaks. Next to him was a brown-haired man dressed in rags similar to the woman's. Sitting next to the woman was a tall man with long chestnut hair; dressed in embellished armor and a thick cloak.
Steering the cart was a man wearing Imperial armor. There was one other cart in front of them, which held more Stormcloak prisoners. Trailing behind them was another imperial soldier on a horse. In the far front was an older man dressed in elaborate gold and red armor.
Surrounding the odd group was a small pack of wolves; curious about the strangers traveling through their territory. They trotted alongside the humans silently and flitted like shadows among the trees. The horses whinnied nervously and picked up their paces as the wolves grew bolder and drew closer. One of the Imperial soldiers gave a sharp shout and the wolves retreated quickly.
This shout woke the woman sitting in the second cart. She stirred with a quiet groan and shifted in her seat. The sun peaked under her eyelashes and she was quick to shut them tightly. The woman sat up from her sleeping slouch and rolled her shoulders to loosen the tightness in her muscles. However, when she attempted to bring her hands up to rub at her eyes she was introduced to her new reality.
Her eyes popped open- revealing stunning green-grey irises with amber flecks- and she stared blankly at the bindings on her hands. Almost reluctantly, she examined her apparel and then investigated her surroundings.
"Finally awake, huh?" The blonde soldier greeted when she lifted her head. "Those imperials sure worked you over."
The woman glanced at him with a raised brow and then flicked her gaze down examine her many scratches. "From what I remember, this much wasn't the Imperials. Although, I'm not appreciating the rope."
She received a puzzled glance in response, but he evidently decided not to ask. "We did try to tell them you weren't with us. They wouldn't hear it. What were you doing so close to the border, anyway?"
Rolling her eyes, the red-head focused her attention on attempting to loosen her bindings. "I could ask you the same thing," she countered absently. "The Stormcloaks have no presence in Falkreath."
This received an irritated grunt from the man to her right, and she glanced up to see he was gagged as well as bound. "Well it's true," she commented mildly. Judging from the armor, he was definitely a Stormcloak. However, he obviously wasn't a standard grunt.
Her green-grey gaze switched to the only other prisoner dressed in rags. "I take you're also not one of them?"
"He's a thief." The blonde interjected.
The woman nodded. That would do it, she mused inwardly. Although, it was curious the Imperials had stuck them on the same cart as the Stormcloaks. Perhaps they were being moved to the nearest prison and it was simply convenient.
Said thief glared hatefully at the blonde. "If it weren't for you Stormcloaks causing trouble everywhere, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now."
"Shut up back there!" Their driver snapped. He received four unimpressed looks and the woman kicked the cart behind where he was sitting. He shot a glare at her over his shoulders, which only earned him another kick. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort, their driver focused back on the road and ignored them altogether.
The thief sneered at the back of his head, angry at their situation, and turned his frustration onto the silent member of their quartet. "And who are you, huh?"
"Watch your tongue!" The blonde snapped immediately. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"
Both non-Stormcloak members of the cart stared in mute horror at the gagged man.
"You… you're serious?" The thief gasped when no one added anything more. "Oh, gods. You're the leader of the rebellion! If you're here… where are they taking us?"
"I'm not sure," the soldier admitted, "but Sovngarde awaits.
The woman dropped her head into her hands with a groan. "You have to be kidding me." Shooting a baleful glare at the two Stormcloaks, she glanced around their surroundings once more. "If we're moving away from the southern border, we're likely on our way to Helgen."
"Helgen?" The thief repeated, surprised. "Why there?"
The woman shrugged. "We could just be passing through." Her attention turned to the man at the front of the line. "However, that is General Tullius and I'm not sure what he's doing escorting a bunch of prisoners."
"He's here." The thief glowered at Ulfric. "Why wouldn't Tullius be here?"
He received an exasperated sigh in response. "He still has a war to fight, idiot. Just because Jarl Ulfric's not in Windhelm, the Stormcloaks aren't going to just stop fighting. Tullius needs to be coordinating his troops." She grimaced. "Now, if we weren't going to make it all the way to Solitude…"
The sentence was left unfinished, but the thief still paled rapidly. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me."
As though to punctuate the moment, the great stone walls of Helgen chose that moment to appear through the trees. "General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" A soldier stationed atop the grand gate called.
"Good," the sharp voice of the Imperial general rang out. "Let's get this over with."
The blonde soldier spat angrily at the general's back as he split away to come to a halt near an Altmer sitting atop another horse. The woman eyed the purple and gold uniform warily as her companion hissed furiously. "Thalmor bitch! I bet those damn elves had something to do with this!"
"Damn Thalmor," the woman corrected as she gave up fighting with her bindings. If there was a headsman waiting, she wouldn't escape in time. "It's pointless being angry at all the elves."
"What?" Came the surprised response from the soldier.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "So, the Falmer caught us?"
He grimaced in response. "You believe that rumor?"
"Nords in general can be harsh about it, but it's a cultural misunderstanding." She answered with a shake of her head. "I hardly believe the Stormcloaks are racist. Phrasing things like that, however, only gives it credence."
The soldier gave a dry chuckle. "It hardly matters now."
A grim silence descended upon the four of them and the thief resumed muttering prayers under his breath. The woman watched her surroundings pass with a blank expression. There was little she could do to escape her situation now. The blonde glanced about them with a wistful expression. "Funny; when I was a boy, imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."
Ulfric shifted next to her when a voice rang out behind them. "Who are they, daddy?" A young boy sitting on the porch of his home asked curiously. "Where are they going?"
"You need to go inside, little cub." Came the gentle response of his father. Ulfric managed a scowl despite the gag.
"No child should see death." The woman said sharply. The Jarl turned his surprised attention to her and she looked away, letting her hair fall as a curtain between them.
The blonde had a different opinion on the matter. "So, we should hide the true nature of the Empire from them?" He demanded.
He quickly found himself on the receiving end of a murderous glare. "He is a boy. Skyrim is a harsh enough land. Allow him his innocence or, by the Divines, I will ensure it myself through whatever means necessary."
Their miniature spat was interrupted by their driver calling, "Whoa!"
"Get these prisoners out of the carts! Move it!" A captain dressed in steel Imperial armor ordered. There was a flurry of movement as soldiers began to encircle the courtyard in preparation for the coming events.
The thief panicked. "No! Wait! We're not rebels!"
"Face your death with some courage, thief." The blonde Stormcloak sighed and used one booted foot to shove the brunette man out of the cart. He stumbled, but managed to land on his feet.
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" He continued, despite everyone ignoring his pleading.
"Let's go," the blonde addressed the woman as she stood. "Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."
"Step towards the block when we call your name." The Imperial captain ordered harshly. "One at a time."
The woman nodded and leapt down from the cart, followed shortly by the blonde. There was a moment of silence as the Imperials and Stormcloaks stared at each other.
Brothers and sisters by blood, enemies by choice.
"Empire loves their damn lists." The blonde scoffed, and the moment was broken.
The woman tilted her head back and closed her eyes as Ulfric was called forward. She murmured a prayer softly into the wind.
"Kyne…"
Mother of my Spirit, Goddess of my Hunt, Wind of my Storm, I beseech you.
"Shor…"
Keeper of my Soul, God of my Battle, Swing of my Sword, I beseech you.
"Akatosh…"
Father of my Father, God of my Mortality, Bringer of my Life, I beseech you.
"Talos…"
Brother of my Bone, Dragon of the North, He of the Ysmir, I beseech you.
"I walk in your light."
She opened her eyes to find several eyes on her, but she'd spoken too quietly to be heard. The woman shrugged and leaned against the cart behind her. As though that had reminded them of their duties, the Imperial soldier holding the list returned his attention to the task at hand.
"Ralof of Riverwood."
The red-headed woman gave Ralof a short nod as he stepped forward fearlessly. There was a flicker of tension between Ralof and the soldier with the list, which the woman watched curiously. There was history there, apparently.
"Lokir of Rorikstead," the soldier continued as Ralof walked away.
"No, I'm not a rebel!" Lokir pleaded as he inched forward. He only received unmoved stares. "You can't do this!" He shouted and tensed as he prepared to bolt.
Noticing this, the woman lunged and grabbed firm hold of his elbow, which was awkward to do with both hands bound. Instead of running off, Lokir found himself yanked backwards, and collapsed to the ground ungracefully. He looked up to see an unforgiving amber-flecked glower.
"You really are an idiot." The woman snapped. "Can you outrun arrows?"
Lokir gaped at her, stunned, and then looked around to see every Imperial soldier with access to a bow was ready and waiting.
"All she," the woman continued with a jerk of her head at the captain, "would need to do is give the order and you'd be shot down where you stand. Believe me when I say a headsman's axe is a lot less painful than bleeding to death."
After all, she doubted he'd be lucky enough to be shot by someone with enough aim to kill him painlessly.
Lokir swallowed and nodded slowly. "I'm not a rebel," he repeated.
The woman sighed aggravatedly. "No, you're a thief. You're going to die either way, so hurry up and pick."
All the commotion they'd caused had every eye fixed on them and the woman did not appreciate being turned into a show.
Defeated, Lokir slowly stood and trudged his way over to the chopping block with every arrow trained on him. The woman looked back up to see the captain's appraising gaze fixed on her while the young soldier scanned his list with a frown. Finally, he looked back up at her in clear confusion.
"Who are you?"
"Katrra," she answered shortly.
There was a distinct lack of reaction from the Imperials, but many of the Stormcloaks turned to look at her in disbelief. Katrra rolled her eyes at the attention and decided to focus on the captain instead.
The soldier grimaced and glanced down again. "Captain, she's not on the list. What should we do?"
"Forget the list," the captain snapped. "She goes to the block."
"Of course," Katrra retorted mildly. "We've got to be sure you get all of them."
The captain glared at her cheek and shoved her roughly in the direction of the block. Katrra grudgingly made her way over and found her gaze glued to the lump of stone that signified her death. Despite her collected outward appearance, she couldn't deny the fear crawling up her spine. This was hardly her first brush with death, but it was the first time she was truly helpless before it.
Well, Katrra corrected with a grimace, mostly. Even I can't kill this many soldiers before I'm seriously wounded. Not without a consequence I'm not willing to risk.
General Tullius finally stepped away from the furiously scowling Thalmor he'd been speaking to and approached Ulfric.
"Ulfric Stormcloak," he addressed the Jarl directly. The town had fallen remarkably silent and his voice echoed off the stone walls. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."
Said Jarl grunted through his gag as though trying to retort.
"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."
'Put him down', Katrra echoed incredulously. What is he; a dog?
At that very moment, an eerie sound swept over Helgen and bounced off the mountain. It sounded like a furious echo of a creature much more fearsome. The sound was low and growled out, but was warped by the distance of its source.
"What was that?" Someone asked while Imperials and Stormcloaks alike peered at the sky uneasily.
"It was nothing. Carry on." Tullius dismissed after a moment, and stepped back with a nod at the captain.
Meanwhile, Katrra kept her gaze fixed on the sky and felt a wash of fear run over her for a very different reason than her impending death.
"Give them their last rites." The captain ordered the priestess, who looked rather timid among the war-hardened soldiers.
Despite this, she stepped forward and raised her arms to the sky. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you. For you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our belov-"
Defiant to the last, a brown-haired Stormcloak marched forward with a back straightened with courage. "For the love of Talos!" The man snapped. "Shut up and let's get this over with."
Flustered and indignant, the priestess broke off. "As you wish," she sniffed.
He stopped before the headsman's block and growled, "Come on! I haven't got all morning."
The captain pressed the Nord to the block with one booted foot and stepped back with a gesture at the headsman, who raised his axe.
"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials." The man snarled. "Can you say the same?"
If he was waiting for an answer, he would never hear it, as the headsman chose that moment to let the axe fall. In one clean swipe, the man's head was separated from his shoulders. The captain shoved his body to the side as his head tumbled into the waiting basket.
"You Imperial bastards!" A Stormcloak woman cried furiously.
"Justice!" An Imperial retorted, while another added: "Death to the Stormcloaks!"
Far more solemn than some of his fellows, Ralof merely bowed his head. "As fearless in death, as he was in life."
"Next, the thief!" The captain ordered and Lokir swallowed loudly.
He cast a desperate glance at Katrra, who merely deadpanned: "Would you prefer the arrows?"
Resigned, yet terrified, Lokir began to walk towards the chopping block. As he did, the eerie sound from before echoed around them once more.
Katrra stiffened as her amber-flecked eyes searched the sky. She felt dread seep into her bones. She knew that sound, but she also knew it didn't belong to who she had hoped.
She barely noticed as Lokir was forced to kneel. Instead, she listened intently while her heart thudded in her chest. There could be nothing to worry about, but only if-
A faint sound had her blood freezing in her veins. It was quiet- the mere rush of air over a surface, except it wasn't moving over a surface, it was being forced under a surface. A moving surface that created a steady, dull roar like that of a seashell held to one's ear- and it was getting louder.
Snapping her attention back to the proceedings in front of her, Katrra screamed: "You have to run, now!"
The people around her jerked and stared at her, startled.
The captain stepped forward, mouth opening in what was likely some sharp retort to shut up, but Katrra cut her off.
"You don't understand! That's not nothing! It's a-"
At that moment, the roar sounded again. Louder and closer than ever. It was filled with rage, and promised only death and destruction. Katrra looked up at the sky once more as the Imperial sentries shouted in alarm.
"Sentries!" Tullius called. "What do you see?"
Those facing the headsman's block didn't need the sentries' answer to know. A gigantic black mass of scales swooped around the curve of the mountain and descended rapidly from the sky.
"Dragon!"
The fearsome creature landed with an earth-shaking boom atop the stone tower. Its hulking mass towered over them as it glared with burning red eyes.
Katrra felt her heart stop.
Huge in size, pitch black scales, burning red eyes, and an aura that radiated death.
Harbinger of the Apocalypse, First-Born of Akatosh, the World Eater… You stand before me.
"Run!" She screamed just as Alduin opened his jaws wide and ordered the sky to rain fire down upon them.
The sheer force of his Thu'um staggered them all and Katrra struggled to remain standing. The once-orderly execution had dissolved into utter chaos. The Stormcloaks were bolting away from the chopping block, while Tullius was hollering commands at his men.
In the midst of it all, Katrra found herself frozen as she locked eyes with the end of the world.
"Motaas, joorre. Hi lost praz wah biis." Alduin rumbled ominously. With a beat of his wings, Alduin tore his gaze from hers and took to the air. Katrra gasped for breath as she trembled in place.
"Daan," she whispered. "Nii lost bo."
A sharp tug on her elbow drew her out of her horror-struck state. She turned her head to see Ralof, and allowed him to begin pulling her in the direction of one of the stone guard towers. Lokir tottered unsteadily next to them and looked rather pale.
"This is a dream," he muttered. "This has to be a dream!"
Silently, Katrra prayed he was right.
The trio entered the tower and shut the thick wooden door with a bang behind them. The noise level was abruptly cut in half and Katrra felt herself steady on her feet. She could panic about the arrival of the World Eater later. Right now, she needed to focus on survival.
"Ralof!" Ulfric greeted them hastily. "It's good to see you alive."
The soldier grimaced as he picked up a discarded sword and cut Katrra and Lokir out of their bindings. "Barely," he replied as Katrra nodded her thanks and Lokir sank to the floor. "How many are left?"
"Just us," the Jarl answered with a gesture at the room. "Hrues is in pretty bad shape."
Katrra looked up from her soothing her wrists at this and spotted the two Stormcloaks by the stairs. One of them was crouched over the other, who she assumed was Hrues, and looked rather worried about the red stain on his coat.
"Move," Katrra ordered as she stalked over and shoved the soldier's hands away. He protested as Katrra moved the torn armor away from the wound, but fell silent as her hands began to glow with golden-amber light.
She looked the wound over with an experienced eye and hissed sympathetically. "Sword?" She asked Hrues, who nodded. Katrra brought her hands over the wound and carefully began directing the healing magic. "I'm not exactly a master at this, so the best I can do is a patch job. Don't over-exert yourself and you'll last until we can get you some better treatment."
"A mage, huh?" The other Stormcloak asked while Ralof and Ulfric conversed quietly. "I can't say I'm not surprised, but I am grateful."
Katrra shook her head with a grimace. "Not exactly." She glanced up with a faint sigh. "I haven't got the talent to master magic. I studied at the College for a bit to improve what I already knew."
"What's that?" The soldier inquired curiously.
"Enchanting is my specialty," Katrra answered as she began to knit the wound. "My mother taught me since I was a child. Uncle Tolfdir wouldn't settle for me just learning some Conjuration, and beat Alteration and Restoration into my head as well. The healing is useful, and I won't deny that Alteration has its moments." She paused and the glow faded from her hands as she examined her work critically. "Apparently I've got the knack for Conjuration, which is convenient. My teacher was disappointed I didn't want to learn anything more, though. I still fight with weapons."
Katrra sat back on her heels and let out a tired breath. "There. That should do, for now. Try to avoid the fighting."
She looked up to see Ralof and Ulfric were done talking and had turned to watch her work. "So," she prompted, "how're we getting out of here?"
"Towns like this always have an escape route in the Keep." Ulfric answered. "We need to find it."
"The problem is the Imperials in our way, and the dragon." Ralof continued. "We can let the Imperials deal with the dragon, but they likely won't just let us run."
Katrra barked out a dry laugh. "They're going to be far too busy with the dragon to worry about us, trust me."
Ulfric frowned at her. "You know something about that beast?"
"Everyone knows about him," Katrra replied and then flatly recited: "And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled! Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the world!"
Her recital was meant with stunned silence.
"Alduin?" Lokir gasped. "That- that thing is Alduin? The World Eater?"
"Vediik wey vulon voth miin ag kirgge," Katrra intoned in answer. "Blacker than the night with eyes like burning coals."
"That's the dragon tongue." Ulfric stated in surprise.
Katrra shrugged. "I'm well-studied."
The Jarl cast a curious glance at her, but evidently decided to focus on the situation at hand. "Ralof, find us a clear path to the Keep," he ordered. "We'll follow shortly." He turned his attention to the group by the stairs. "You two are with me." Then he looked at Katrra once more. "You're not one of my soldiers, but we'd appreciate the help."
"I'd appreciate getting out of here alive," Katrra pointed out. "The Keep seems to be the best bet."
Ulfric nodded. "Watch Ralof's back, then. We'll meet you at the Keep."
The dismissal was clear and both Ralof and Katrra were quick to hurry out the door. The relative calm of the stone tower was shattered the moment they set foot in the courtyard. Alduin swept back and forth in the sky overhead with his fearsome maw breathing fire down on their heads. Smoke filled the air, rubble littered the streets, and the stench of burnt bodies stung at their noses.
Ralof took the lead as they moved through the shadows of the buildings. The Imperials took no notice of them as they fired arrows wildly at the sky and hustled citizens to and fro in an attempt to get them out of danger. Their path was clear up until they passed the chopping block. The arch leading to the Keep courtyard had collapsed and a wall of rubble stood in their way.
Ralof cursed colorfully, but Katrra simply examined the mound of stone and began to move several of the rocks. "We can climb over it," she pointed out. The top half of the arch had fallen away, leaving a wide gap that opened to the sky. The rubble didn't look quite stable, but all she needed to do was find a clear path up.
She received a grunt of agreement and the two of them began to pile the stone in an attempt to create a staircase of sorts. "There we go," Ralof said after moving a stone roughly the same size as his head.
"I'll climb over first," Katrra offered. "You watch for the others."
Ralof nodded and the huntress moved to begin climbing up the wall of rubble. Pebbles slipped under her fingers and toes and some stones shuddered ominously when she put her weight on them, but she made it to the top in one piece. The other side was a different story. The back of the rocks were jagged, and the pile was mostly sheer.
It must've been hit on this side, Katrra mused as she called her finding down to Ralof.
"Can you see a way down?"
Katrra peered thoughtfully at the rubble and nodded after a moment. "It looks like I can climb down a bit and then jump."
"Try it," Ralof said as he spotted his fellow Stormcloaks leaving the tower and waved at them. "Just be careful."
Her sarcastic response was drowned out by Alduin's ear-piercing roar as he swooped down and plucked a soldier from the ramparts. Katrra felt her mouth dry as she watched his massive claws tear through the man's armor like tissue paper. The black dragon rose into the sky, higher and higher, and then dropped his victim. The man screamed the whole way down to his gruesome death.
Turning her eyes from the scene, Katrra focused on getting down while Alduin circled above.
"Qiilan, joorre!" He snarled and loosed a jet of flame at the archers attempting to shoot him down. "Zu'u los Alduin, zok Wuth do faal Kiirre do Bormah!"
"Mu mindok," Katrra muttered as a lick of fire passed too close for comfort. "Pruzah wah koraav hi tul lost hin kah."
Katrra landed with a thump on the ground and winced as her ankles complained. Ignoring the sting, she turned to call through the rubble, "It's good!"
"Alright," Ralof's muffled voice answered. "We're coming over. Keep an eye out."
It was with a great deal of nervous energy that Katrra tucked herself away in the shadow of the wall. Things had calmed on this half for the moment, but only because Alduin was preoccupied. She could see the top of his great back near the Helgen gate and hear the shriek of his fiery breath. The soldiers were screaming and shouting as Alduin tore through their ranks. Over the racket, she could faintly hear General Tullius call for his men to retreat. Katrra glanced up at the rubble to see Ralof and Hrues climbing down.
"Hurry," she instructed. "The Imperials are going to start heading to the Keep."
Ralof nodded while she helped Hrues down to avoid putting too much strain on his wound. "You doing alright there?" She asked as he slumped against the wall.
"Mostly," Hrues grunted. "Blasted elves and a dragon on the same day? Feels like a dream."
"That it does, aye." Katrra agreed as Ulfric leapt down and the last soldier followed. Lokir tumbled down after them and was quick to find a place near Katrra's side. She raised an eyebrow at this, but decided to think about it later.
Ulfric nodded at her shortly as the group hurried towards the Keep. "Well done."
"Thanks. Living is usually worth the effort."
This earned her a round of chuckles as they burst through into the courtyard and came face to face with an Imperial soldier. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by their abrupt appearance, but then his eyes landed on Ralof and he scowled. Katrra realized with a start that this was the soldier who had been reading off the list of names earlier.
"Ralof!" He barked sharply. "You damn traitor!"
Alduin surged back up into the air with a vicious roar and the Imperial looked indecisive for a moment before he glanced up at the soldiers on the ramparts. "Out of my way," he snapped with an aggravated growl.
"We're escaping, Hadvar." Ralof warned. "You're not stopping us this time."
Hadvar's glare flickered to Ulfric before it swept over the rest of them. It lingered on Katrra and Lokir a moment and a frown tugged at his expression. "Fine," he grunted eventually. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" His directed this last statement at Ulfric, who ignored it as the group began to move again.
Katrra glanced up and couldn't help but stumble as fear surged through her. Descending from the clouds, as though Hadvar had summoned him, was Alduin. His ferocious red gaze was fixed on their group and Katrra felt quite small when his enormous shadow fell over them.
"Move!" She screamed and shoved Lokir towards the Keep. Ralof and Ulfric looked up as the shadow fell over them and tightened their grips on their stolen swords, but did not stop moving. Hrues stumbled along behind them and Katrra shoved her fear aside roughly to haul the man's arm over her shoulder and help him along.
"YOL," Alduin began and Katrra felt panic shoot through her. The door was too far away and Alduin was too close. They wouldn't make it in time! "TOOR SHUL!"
A hand pressed against her back and the duo found themselves shoved forward into the wooden door just as Ralof pushed it open. Katrra gasped, feeling light-headed with a rush of relief, and let go of Hrues as they stumbled inside.
Hrues, however, was decidedly less relieved. "Arger!" He screamed and lunged for the door, but Ralof held him back.
"Do not waste his sacrifice!" Ralof snapped.
Dread crept through her and Katrra peered out the door to see a charred corpse; flat along the ground and oozing boiling blood. Her stomach rolled at the sight of blue and brown armor.
"Arger," Katrra repeated as she shut the door firmly. The cool air of the Keep rushed around her. The contrast was stark when compared to Alduin's Thu'um. "That was his name?"
She turned to look at Hrues, who had stopped struggling and was simply staring at the door. It took a moment for her question to register, but he finally gave a slow nod.
Katrra turned to the door and bowed her head. Her hair draped around her shoulders like a veil as she cupped her hands. She spared a second of concentration and then a blue flame sparked to life in her palms. The flame glowed brilliantly in the darkness of the Keep as Katrra slowly began to intone:
"Ahrk mu mirodah do hin moro. Mu dahmaan hin Zii, hin Zul, hin Sil. Mu hahnu do hin grahhe ahrk fun teyye do hin sodde. Faal aluntiid los heim ko hin yol, fod hi aav daar do moro wo kriist ko mundde do ustiid."
She stood in silence for a moment longer, before letting the flame go and dropping her mournful pose.
"What was that?" Lokir asked into the stunned silence.
"That," Ulfric answered quietly, "was an ancient rite for the dead."
Katrra nodded, but did not remove her gaze from the door. "It is a very old blessing from back when the dragons ruled. While there is a version of it in both the ancient Nordic and dragon tongues, there is no equivalent in our language."
"Thank you," Hrues whispered. "Thank you."
The group lingered, but Ulfric was quick to push them into action. "It's time to go."
Katrra finally examined the room she had entered. It was completely round, with gates on both sides. Ulfric and Ralof had paused by the body of another Stormcloak, and Katrra grimaced at the sight of more lost life. She moved to the right gate and pulled experimentally on it, only to find that it was locked tight. The huntress tsked. I don't have my lock picks.
"This one's got a pull," Ralof commented from the gate he was looking over. "But it's too far to reach."
Katrra grunted while she searched for anything she could use as a makeshift pick. "Lokir, you try. You've got the best reach out of us." Which was true, considering his slim, tall build, but ironic considering he was the least likely to fight out of all of them.
Before he could try, however, loud voices rang out down the hallway and Ralof hissed, "Imperials. Get down!"
They quickly slunk into the shadows, with Ralof and Ulfric on either side of the gate. Hrues and Lokir crouched behind the table to keep out of the way, while Katrra stood just far enough back to launch a surprise attack of her own. The Imperials should be too occupied with the Stormcloaks to notice her.
The gate rose and they burst into action. Ralof and Ulfric lunged forward and caught their enemies off-guard. One soldier fell immediately with a swift gash through the throat, while the other was luckier. He raised his sword just in time to fend off Ulfric's strike, but the attack staggered him. Behind them was the captain from before, and she was quick to react. Before the first soldier was even down, she already had her sword drawn and was moving towards Ralof.
The fight moved farther into the room and the second Imperial soldier found himself without a head as Katrra darted forward. Despite her training, the Imperial captain was no match for two Stormcloaks and an experienced fighter. She went down quickly and Ralof wasted no time in searching her for a key.
As he was working, Ulfric gestured to her sword. "Fine blade. Where'd you get that?"
"It's actually a copy," Katrra grinned as she held it up. The sword itself was the epitome of masterful craftsmanship. The blade was forged with dark steel, tempered to perfection, and sharpened to a deadly edge. The hilt was a hand-and-a-half and wrapped in worn leather. The pommel was circular and a diamond sat in the center. Carefully carved runes could be seen etched along the blade. "A conjuration, to be exact."
"I've never seen a conjured blade like that," Hrues remarked.
Katrra nodded. "There are standardized Conjuration spells that every mage can use. If you really want to perfect your conjures, it takes a lot of patience and a lot of practice. However, the end result means you can conjure exactly what you're trying to. In my case, I can conjure an exact copy of my sword." She angled the blade into the shadows cast by the overhead candles, which revealed the faint white glow it had. The tell-tale sign of an advanced conjuration. She let the magic go and the blade vanished.
"It took ages to get it right. I had to study the actual blade constantly. Now, I'm never truly unarmed." She said with a hint of pride.
"You really are Wind-Step, aren't you?" Ralof asked as he stood with key in hand. "The dual-wielding Companion?"
"Who's only ever seen with one sword," Katrra confirmed.
Lokir stared at her, wide-eyed. "You're Katrra Wind-Step? The huntress you can never see or hear coming?"
Katrra couldn't help but laugh at his expression as they followed Ulfric through the open gate and down the hall. "Surprised? I suppose I never really made a point of 'spreading my legend' as Aela likes to put it."
Which was the plain truth. Katrra had been a member of the Companions since she was nineteen. She cared more for adventure than glory, but was a loyal Shield-Sister all the same. She now spent more time away from Jorrvaskr than in it, but her siblings never thought less of her for drifting from the life of a typical Companion. The result was that, while her name had spread through Skyrim, her appearance was largely unknown.
"But," Lokir spluttered, "why would the Imperials try to execute you?"
"They didn't know who I was," Katrra explained exasperatedly. "They're here to fight a war for the Empire; not pay attention to Nordic culture. I doubt they could name more than three Companions; even less name any of their deeds."
Ulfric scowled at this as they made their way down a set of stone stairs. "And yet the Empire bows to the Thalmor and bans the worship of Talos at their bidding."
Any more conversation was cut off as the group emerged into a room filled with cages. Katrra hissed a foul curse through her teeth at the sight of the torture room, and felt no remorse as she struck down a greying old man with a foul disposition who commanded lightning with frightening ease.
The rest of the trip through the cave was nerve-wracking, but went fairly smoothly. They ran into another room of Imperials, narrowly avoided being crushed by falling rocks, and cleared out a den of spiders. Katrra was by no means a fan of the eight-legged, giant creatures, but Lokir let out a rather unmanly shriek at the sight and refused to enter the room until they were all dead. Even then it took a great deal of coaxing and a murderous glare from Katrra to get the Nord moving. They slipped past a sleeping bear successfully, although Hrues nearly gave them all heart-attacks when he tripped.
All too soon, or perhaps not soon enough, they walked out into the clean air of Skyrim. The afternoon sun was blinding and, with the destruction that was Helgen behind them, Katrra could almost pretend that everything was normal. A threatening roar soon shattered that illusion and the group ducked as Alduin soared over their heads and disappeared into the horizon.
"My sister, Gerdur, lives in Riverwood. We could stay there for a rest," Ralof offered as the group slumped to the ground in exhaustion.
Ulfric looked thoughtful, but Katrra shook her head. "Hrues won't make it all the way to Riverwood." She glanced at the wounded Nord, who had become worryingly pale and simply staggered along with them. Reluctantly, she continued, "I've a house that's closer. Just east of Falkreath. You might as well come with. At least there, no one will see the leader of rebellion walking around."
The Stormcloaks exchanged glances before nodding. "Thank you," Ulfric said as he stood. "We appreciate all your assistance today."
Katrra merely shrugged and tossed a look at Lokir. "You might as well come, too. Steal anything and I'll hunt you down and skin you alive."
Lokir scrambled to his feet at the offer and nodded quickly. "Of course. Best behavior, I swear." He answered hastily.
"Good," Katrra hauled herself to her feet and glanced at their surroundings. "C'mon, it's this way. We should get there by nightfall."
Ralof and Lokir were quick to offer support to Hrues, while Ulfric and Katrra kept an eye out for any Imperials. It was in this same manner than that odd group of five staggered down the road to Falkreath for a well-earned rest.
Thank you for reading chapter one of my new story! I hope you enjoy it, as it's actually my own Skyrim character who I'm using in the fic. It took a while to tweak out all the details of her life. I am not going to stick completely to the game script, because that would be boring. I'll be going over a lot of Skyrim, if not most of it, so expect a very long fanfiction. That doesn't mean I'll be doing every single detail. For example, I might mention a quest in the past tense, some things have already happened, and I might ignore others altogether.
At the moment, I have a couple of things to ask you.
First, is there any quest in particular you want to see me cover? Leave a review with your request, and I'll be sure to find a spot for it. This is a developing story that's very open, so it shouldn't be difficult at all.
Second, I need a vote on the Dark Brotherhood. Personally, I have a love-hate relationship with them, so I'm having a tough time deciding whether or not to just kill them, ignore them, or join them in this story. Your input on this would be greatly appreciated. You can PM me or just leave a review. I will not be telling what I decide on this matter.
Translations:
"Cower, mortals. You have a price to pay." – Alduin
"Doom. It has come." – Katrra
"Blacker than the night with eyes like burning coals." – Katrra
"Bow, mortals! I am Alduin, Oldest of the Children of Akatosh!" – Alduin
- there is no direct translation to First-Born that I could find
"We know. Good to see you still have your pride." – Katrra
"…and we sing of your glory. We remember your Spirit, your Voice, your Soul. We dream of your battles and tell stories of your deeds. The future is forged in your fire, while you join those of glory who stand in the halls of the past." - Katrra
Below is a complete list of the mods I'm using for this fanfic. I have either gotten permission from the mod author to use their fanfic in this story, or they simply didn't reply either way.
Is there a certain mod you want me to include? Let me know!
- Meeko Reborn by BluePianoTwo
- Skyrim Romance 3.0 by Mara
- Lakeview Manor Evolution by mrpdean
- Ciri's Outfit Recolors by Mur4s4me
- Ciri's Outfit by Oaristys
- Wind Path by aukmat
- Moonlight Tales by spwned
I am currently playing through mods that I may add later on. If so, an updated mod list will appear.