Okay! Next chapter of this. I know the first one was a bit short and it ended kinda weirdly but I hope you liked it! I also hope you like this next chapter. Please tell me what you think!
CHAPTER 2
Urlak blinked his eyes open a few times, trying to adjust to the bright light of midday. He felt himself moving up and down and realized he was in the horse-drawn cart still, bumping up and down along the rocky pathway to who-knows-where. He turned his head towards the horseman with a very confused expression. Where are we going? Why am I being held prisoner? he thought, remembering the stressful feeling of a rope tied around his wrists.
"Ah, finally awake?" a middle-aged male voice called out to him. Urlak turned to see a blonde Nord sitting across him, staring at him with a look of brotherhood through icy blue eyes. Urlak did not respond, just sat there looking back at the soldier wearing blue armor that he knew symbolized the Stormcloaks of Windhelm. "You've been out since we left. We're almost there," he said. Urlak's eyebrows furrowed a little. "Almost where?" he managed to utter, feeling a terrible scratchy pain in his throat. He heard the man laugh and reply, "to our deaths." Deaths? Did he just say that we are going to our deaths or am I crazy? he wondered silently. "You look so unknowledgable, my friend. Are you not a Stormcloak?" he asked. Urlak shook his head, clearly worried. "I figured. I'd know one if I saw one of my fellow brothers." The nord turned his head to watch the path ahead of them.
"How about you? Where are you from?" he said, turning to a skinny man in ragged clothes sitting next to him. "Where am I from? Why in the world would that matter? We're going to get killed and that's what's important to you?!" the frail poor man uttered, his voice shaky. "A nord's last thoughts should be of home," the Stormcloak responded. "Shut up back there!" the horseman finally ordered. Urlak heard his accent and could tell he was an Imperial.
He turned to the Stormcloak across from him and whispered, "Your name?" The blonde man nodded and said, "I'm Ralof. You?" "Urlak." He and Ralof nodded to each other, as if there were unspoken conversations happening as well. When you were sitting in the back of a horse-drawn cart, with an Imperial soldier riding that horse, it didn't matter who you were sitting with. Your hands were bound, your mouth may or may not have been gagged, and you were riding along the road to your death. Whoever you were sitting with would be your brothers and sisters for the short period of time until your death.
"By Talos...is that...are you..? Ulfric? Ulfric Stormcloak!" the frail man from Rorikstead said, glaring at the man across from him, who was sitting next to Urlak. The dark-haired man was wearing a dirty gag in his mouth and he let out a grumpy-sounding grunt. His fur cape blew in the wind and Urlak shied away from him a little; he was in the presence of not only a Jarl, whom he should respect, but also the leader of the Stormcloaks, one of the biggest military forces driving the war. In fact, Urlak heard he was the one who started the war. "Oh by the gods...if Ulfric is here...oh my..we're going to die a horrible death!" the Rorikstead man wailed. "Shut up!" the horseman called again, and it was silent for almost the rest of the way. Wherever they were going.
Sorry for the weird ending...if you've played Skyrim then you should know where they're going lol. But this is where I'll stop for now. Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think!