The world around Conan seemed to slowly accept his presence as inaudible sound reached his ears, and blurred vision leaked through his eye lids. It took a few moments to realize he was lying on the ground. A great weight had him pinned to the earth, trying to focus on the object Conan felt an intense burning in his head, as if he'd been struck in the back of the head. Upon such realization Conan began to panic, clawing at the dirt with his still bound-together hands, and was rewarded by only shifting the object forward and planting Conan's face into the packed dirt. Doing his best to keep breathing, with his chest compressed on the ground,

Conan lay there for divines knows how long until he heard the rough sound of worn leather on dirt come his way. A spark of hope flicked in Conan.

"You still alive, lad?" It was Ralof. Conan tried to nod, but with the object on his head, he couldn't even manage that, he just slapped the ground with his wrists as best he could. And a few moments later, instant relief came as the weight on Conan was removed. "Can you stand?" Ralof asked.

"I- I think so." Conan replied with his first available breath. Slowly gaining purchase on his knees. The entire Sky went dark for a moment.

A sound like thunder cracked the ground nearby.

"By the Talos!" Ralof shouted, grabbing Conan by the arm and hauling him to his feet. The sound of steel clashing, people shouting and screaming, and above all, the sound of wind cracking as something solid whipped through it.

Another crack of thunder…Dragon... No... It cannot be. Conan gasped, memories striking him like the thunderous cracks, he spun around to the object that had imprisoned him, a wooden post, A support beam, snapped like a piece of kindling. Clearly from the building that had stood dozens of feet from Conan and the others. By the eight. Conan was so busy trying to understand everything, he hardly even realized Ralof had begun to drag him away from the destroyed building- now a pile of lumber.

"We have to get out of here!" He pointed ahead to a stone barrack still standing a few dozen feet across from them, "To that tower! Move it!" Conan had to force his legs to obey, eventually able to support himself while on a full sprint so Ralof let go of his arm "Keep on at it lad, almost there!"

YolToorShul… Mortals

Yet another enormous Crack struck the earth. This one followed by an unbearable wave of heat, where Conan and Ralof had been only moments before. Conan half turned nearly stumbling he couldn't believe it "What?!" He asked.

"What? Don't slow down!" Ralof shouted back.

"It said something! It spoke!" Conan Shouted back.

Ralof hardly stopped at a rough wooden door that he didn't hesitate to begin slamming his fist against. "It's Ralof! Open the door!" hardly a moment later the door opened just enough for the two to slip through. "You've lost too much blood if you think that thing spoke, lad." Ralof spat.

Only that brought Conan's attention to himself, his head still pounding, he ran a hand along the back of his head, where the pain was rooted and pulled it away to find his entire hand coated in blood. Speechless, Conan scanned that rest of his body, Scrapes, cuts and already a few bruise mapped his entire body. If not for what he'd just seen, the whole site would have sent Conan into shock.

"Worry about injuries later." Came an unfamiliar voice. Conan turned his head to the voice, and was his heart skipped a beat in shock. Ulfric Stormcloak, only a few feet away. Staring directly at him. Trying his best to hide his shock, Conan just nodded.

Afraid to make eye contact, Conan scanned the small room, there were six people in total, Conan excluded. Two clearly injured, a slash to the side of the face, starting at the eye. It made Conan wince. The other was darted with arrows, arms legs and even two in the torso. A dragon attacks, and they still fight each other? Eight Divine. Two other men were scrambling up the spiral stairs of the tower, searching for an alternate exit Conan assumed. Not that there was likely to be one at the top of a tower, save the windows.

Before he knew it, Ralof was dragging Conan by his upper arm up the tower stairs "We have to keep moving lad! The imperials might know we're here! And I don't know how long this tower could hold against a dragon!"

"How are we supposed to get out?!" Conan called. But his question was answered as they reach the peak of the stairway. One of the Stormcloaks was swinging a war hammer against the corner of a window, trying to widen the frame as an escape. Though to little avail, the stone held firm and each swing only caused a few chips to fly.

"Think you can squeeze through there?" Ralof asked "You should be small enough."

Conan knew he could, he had squeezed through smaller fence holes while playing hide-and-seek or tag with his friends in the city. Still he looked uncertainly at Ralof.

"Don't worry lad, there's a house only a few feet down, you should land safely."

"From there you can jump to a small snow bank between the house and the tower, should keep you from breaking anything." Added the man with the hammer "From there you can find safer cover."

"But you guys?" Conan asked, he wanted more than anything to get out of the tower, and just run. Divines there was a dragon out there! But still Conan felt reluctant to leave them behind, even if they were rebels.

Ralof dragged Conan to the window, "Don't worry about us, there's nothing you can do but die if you stay here, we'll get out soon enough."

There was nothing he could do, that was defiantly true Conan realize. He climbed to the window and faced the outside; he could only stand side-ways through the narrow makeshift-passage about a head of space between him and the top of the window. Carefully he edged his way to the end and as promised there was a straw built roof down below. But what they called a few feet had to be roughly twenty-five thirty feet straight down. Conan tried to look back, but his head couldn't turn past the stone. "It's too high!" He called back.

"Just Jump, we don't have time!" Someone replied. Slowly Conan gathered his courage, bent his knees as much as he could. And just before he was about to jump, a pair of hands shoved his side and forced him through the air. The only sound Conan heard was his own yelp when he landed on one of the roofs beams, still-bound hands first; the rest of his weight broke over them. In the few moments it took Conan to get over his Surprise, he hadn't even noticed the, light above him was dimming. Until it was the area around him was almost black.

Swiftly Conan turned over, just in time to see the enormous creature make its second land on the small village, eyes set on the tower Conan had just dove from. It landed unmercifully on the homes and towers behind the one Conan was on. Its gigantic front claw perched- or rather just crushed the wall directly beside the tower- and Conan.

Conan didn't even have time to think, all he could was push himself back with his legs, until his back hit the chimney. Breath heavy from fear, Conan could hear his heart beating audibly in his ears, just as easily as he could feel it slamming against his rib cage. He slammed his eyes shut and prayed to the eight for the leviathan to leave. But still only the cracks of stone and wood filled the air, followed by heavy breathing Conan first mistook for his own. But it got louder… closer.

Reluctantly, Conan peaked his eyes open, looked up. Where the sky should have been, all he saw was a black mass over his head, and realized it was the Dragons head. Light stung at Conan's eyes, and he realized the light above the creature was… bending away from it. It repelled light. The Dragons head tilted, and Conan caught sight of its Crimson eye. And the Crimson eye caught sight of Conan.

Time seemed to stop. For Conan, he thought he had been terrified when he woke up on the wagon, and when he was about to be executed, when he first saw the dragon, every event seemed to duplicate his fear. But now it didn't seem really. Or maybe it was just too real. The only thing Conan could see in the deep crimson eyes was rage and hate. Everything to this point had given him the instinct to run, but now he was petrified. He couldn't run –he wouldn't run, because he couldn't escape, he knew it, this monster knew it. I'm dead. Conan realized I'm already dead.

The jaw of the beast opened slightly, and Conan believed the he was going to be eaten. But instead the dragon seemed to speak.

Niid Aaz Fah Faal Sahlo… Hin Kos Sahlo…Nust Kos Sahlo… Joor

And with speed that seemed impossible for its size, the dragon turned its head, ignoring Conan and in one fluent motion, leaned forward and flew directly through the tower, crushing it in an instant. Not that Conan saw much, all he remembered was the wind forcing him through the roof as the building collapsed on him.