Chapter 1: Helgen
Another bump shook the cart, causing Riall to wake from his slumber. As his senses came to him, he could taste the copper residue left by the dried blood in his mouth. His head ached dully, each sensation of pain coming rhythmically like a drum of some old Nord chant. The world around him seemed like a slow, nebulous blur. Riall constantly drifted from thought to thought, unable to stay focused on any one thing. The cart struck another bump, this time Riall came to. He sat in the back of a cart, along with three other people. His hands were bound in front of him; the others, too, were tied in the same manner. The man on his right, a large man of Nord descent, was gagged in addition to being bound. He stared at Riall with deep-set eyes filled with equal parts anger and wisdom.
"Hey, you," the man across from Riall said in a think Nord accent, "finally awake?" Riall nodded sluggishly in the affirmative, unable to speak for his mind still felt slow. "What were you doing out there?" he asked.
Riall glanced at the cart's driver, a man dressed in Imperial armor, and said in a coarse, low voice, "I was trying to cross the border."
The man shook his head somberly, "You also ran right into an Imperial ambush, just like us," he said nodding towards the gagged man, "and this thief here."
Riall looked at the man the Nord was talking about. He appeared fidgety and scared. He glanced at Riall and then quickly fixed his eyes at the floor of the cart.
When he didn't say anything, the Nord chimed in, "He was trying to steal a horse when we came along," he paused, "then the Imperials came upon us."
The thief looked up at the Nord, anger burning in his eyes. Grumbling a curse under his breath, he said, "I could have been half way to Hammerfell had you Stormcloaks not come along."
"Quiet back there!" the Imperial driver roared.
The thief glanced at him before continuing in a low voice, "You and I," he said to Riall, "we shouldn't be here, it's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants," he concluded.
"Stormcloaks?" Riall asked. The thief opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted.
"Quiet!" the driver yelled again, this time turning his head back, "another word and I'll personally have all your heads before we even arrive!"
Arrivewhere? Riall thought to himself having to stifle the urge to ask. Riall noticed that there was another cart up ahead. In the back there was another group of men, each, it seemed, bound in the same manner as the men in Riall's cart. Riall contemplated jumping the cart and fleeing into the surrounding woods, but knew that the guards on horseback would quickly catch him.
Riall deemed the situation hopeless and slumped in his seat. The cold Skyrim air nipped bitterly at his exposed skin, bleak colors brought about by a thick fog cloaked the world around him.
"By the eight…," the thief whispered, his voice trailing off. His eyes were transfixed on something in the distance. Riall picked his head up and strained his eyes to see through the fog. A looming gate was slowly piercing its way through the fog; it was neither large nor wide, but just big enough to allow the convoy of carts to go through. Despite its normal appearance, its sudden manifestation hung in the air ominously to Riall. A single soldier, it appeared, was patrolling the wall above. As he spotted the carts, he stopped and leaned on the thin wall railing, watching the convoy disappear under the gate and reappear on the other side.
As Riall's cart cleared the gate, two Imperial soldiers closed the gates behind them.
As his eyes became more adjusted to the world around him, Riall noticed that this wasn't a fortress as he originally thought. There were a few scattered buildings here and there, and amongst Imperial troops moving about were a few peasants. Riall could feel someone nudging his foot. His eyes turned back to the thief.
"Helgen," he whispered. The convoy veered to the right and passed under another gateway. Now they were in a large courtyard surrounded by high stone walls. Inside the courtyard was a small Imperial legion; they stood before a great stone building, the fortress's keep, Riall guessed, watching the convoy inch ever closer.
The carts stopped side by side in the middle of the courtyard and the soldiers issued forth.
"Everyone out!" one of the soldiers barked. An officer, Riall could tell, came forward and grabbed the gagged man and pulled him away from the rest of the prisoners.
"You come with us," the officer said, "General Tullius will want to have a word with you." The officer was joined by several other soldiers who escorted the man away, further into the settlement. The rest of the prisoners were forced into the keep. Eventually Riall and the others in his cart were brought to a large room. Here they were unbound and left alone by the guards.
Riall rubbed his wrists as they were sore from where the bonds were tightly wrapped.
"So," the Nord said, "I never did catch your name." He was looking at Riall.
"I never caught yours," Riall said. The Nord smiled in response.
"I suppose not, the name's Ralof," he said.
"Riall, Riall Strongstone."
"What about you, thief, what's your name?" Ralof asked. The thief looked sullenly at Ralof.
"Stormcloak, you will never have the honor of knowing my name," he said. Ralof simply smiled forgivingly.
"I'm sorry that your trip to Skyrim hasn't been very hospitable," Ralof said to Riall, "on a normal day we'd all be very welcoming and offer you some of our finest mead!" For a moment, Ralof's face was bright and proud as he spoke, but soon it returned to its former dark state. "But sadly," he continued, "Skyrim today is anything but normal."
"Can you at least tell me what's going on?" Riall asked.
Ralof nodded his head, "What would you like to know?" he said settling up against the wall.
"Well, for starters, who was your companion, why are we all here?"
Ralof took a deep breath, "I'm sure you've head the word Stormcloak tossed around, yes? Well, that's why we're here. We Stormcloaks are 'rebels' fighting for the rights of the people of Skyrim. The other man, the one they gagged, thatis Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, our leader and true king of Skyrim."
"Don't listen to his lies," the thief spat out, "Ulfric killed the high king in Solitude," a shadow passed over his face, "some say that he tore him apart with his very voice!"
"High King Torygg," Ralof said with anger rising in his voice, "would have us bow down to the wishes of both the Empire and those blasted elves in the Summerset Isles. Ulfric is saving us from that fate!"
"Ulfric is a power-hungry madman! The Empire is, and always has, guarded and done what is best for us!"
"Look at where you are thief! The Empire has put you in here; the Empire has imprisoned you! The Empire is about to kill you!"
The thief seemed surprised by this. "Kill… kill me?" he said with incredulity in his voice, "I haven't done anything!"
"They found you with us," Ralof said soberly, "that's enough for them." The thief looked like he about to speak when the door opened and another man was thrown in.
"Jarl Ulfric!" cried Ralof. He helped Ulfric up onto his feet. There were bruises on his face and a large black eye decorated the right side of his face.
"Tullius thinks a few punches are enough to break me," Ulfric said.
"They interrogated you?" Ralof asked.
Ulfric let out a deep hearty laugh, "No, they just wanted to rub their success in my face," he set himself in a small wooden chair, "who are these two, Ralof?"
"This one, the thief they caught with us, refused to give his name, this one over here, the Imperial that was crossing the border, his name is Riall.
Ulfric chuckled and sat forward, "Irony has a way of getting us all, eh?" he said to Riall. "If you weren't an Imperial and here in prison, I'd accept you into my army right now, but even if I did, current circumstances would render that useless."
"You wouldn't accept me because I'm an Imperial?" Riall asked.
Ulfric nodded, "Aye, my fight is for the Nords; an Imperial in our ranks? No, that can't happen. Besides, I have a feeling you wouldn't even join us given the opportunity," he said, taking a closer look at Riall.
"Probably not," Riall said shaking his head, "I have no problems with the Empire."
A bitter smile played on Ulfric's lips, "I thought not." Ulfric went on talking to Ralof for some time. Riall sat alone in his part of the room. He thought of his family, of his mother in the Imperial City. He had made it to Skyrim, but his quest, his journey, it seemed, would end here. He uttered a small prayer to Akatosh:
"Akatosh,hearmyplea;Iamyourservant,helpme!Savemefromthisfate!"
Riall could hear the lock turning in the door, and as it began to open, Riall felt a hand clasp his shoulder. It was the thief.
"Lokir," he whispered, "Lokir of Rorikstead."
The Empire solider entering the room was soon pushed aside as Lokir barreled through the doorway. The soldier yelled as he stumbled to the floor. Riall could hear other shouts in the hallway beyond the door. A few guards flashed in front of the door for a brief moment.
Finally the guard got off the ground and left the room, closing the door behind him. Riall heard distant yells from the guards outside the door. Soon though, all was quiet.
The door opened again. An Imperial officer with a few other behind him appeared.
"It's time, he said."