At first Elenwen couldn't believe it when she saw the dragon come swooping down on Helgen. She had plied the civil war in Skyrim like a chess-master, manipulating the Imperials and Stormcloaks like pieces on a board, maneuvering them into an endgame where the Dominion would emerge victorious. It had required keeping track of so many variables, so many levers, she'd thought she'd had every contingency planned.
And now a dragon came along and scattered her board to the wind.
A gout of white fire sprayed across the courtyard. She cried out as the light seared her coronas, even with her eyes closed, Elenwen could see the fiery afterglow. Elenwen laid a hand over them, using a quick Restoration spell to restore her sight.
When she lowered it the courtyard was on fire. She couldn't see any of the guards or prisoners, nor could she see the atronach Cerith had consigned to the block. Perhaps the dragon had done her a favor and incinerated the abomination for her-
-an agonized scream rent the air as a burning corpse burst through the flames. It was hard to tell if it was man or woman, the skin had been burned off it and the muscles beneath were crackled with heat-
-but two unmarked eyes stared out from the charred head, eyes flushed a solid gold from stolen magicka. Even as she watched, gap-mouthed, the burnt skin and muscle sloughed off, revealing red tissue, then baby-pink skin.
What was he? Atronachs could steal spells and siphon magicka, but she'd never seen any just…regenerate themselves with such ease from such severe injuries.
"Emissary Elenwen!" one of her guards shouted, "We can't linger here!"
They tore down the street as Legion soliders and townsfolk alike desperately fought for their lives. Here and there, small clusters of archers fired at the dragons and a few battlemages directed fire-strikes up into the sky. Others pulled wounded from collapsed and burning structures or organized bucket-lines to try to fight the fires.
The three Altmer ignored them as they thundered through the gates. The hooves of the elven-bred steeds raised sparks on the stones and the burning town dropped swiftly behind them. For a moment Elenwen thought they were safe.
And then a black shadow dropped over them. She looked up as a second dragon swooped over them, this one a green skinned lizard.
Her bodyguards whipped out their bows. The strings danced as their hands blurred, emptying their quivers at a rapid pace. The dragon snarled as the first arrows struck it, the moonstone tips piercing its armored scale. The dragon flared its wings in front of it, whipping up an airstream that scattered the rest of the lethal arrow storm like leaves in the wind.
Their quivers emptied, the guards lowered their bows, suddenly uncertain. The dragon sucked in a breath-
-and Elenwen touched the amulet around her neck. As orange flames wreathed her guards, her body faded in the green swirl of a teleportation spell.
"-and that's how I got those scars." Caius said as they emerged from the caves beneath Helgen.
Hadvar looked a bit queasy, but also uncertain, "Filleted?"
"-like a fish at the market, snick-snack and my whole face was covered in blood." Caius winced at the memory, "Learned to avoid fair fights after that."
Hadvar hissed in pain and Caius glanced at him, "How's the leg?"
"Not too bad, considering the arrow in the knee and all." The knee in question had a swath of cloth tightly wrapped around it. Caius had used what dribbles of magicka he had left to dull the pain and let Hadvar maintain a decent pace hobbling, but it needed proper attention. The rogue shook his head, "What were Stormcloaks doing all the way down there?"
"Probably escaped prisoners," Hadvar replied, "the cells were already full before your group arrived."
Caius thought back to the torture room and the bloodstained racks and tables. Despite his jaded nature, some small measure of pity reared its measly head, "No wonder they didn't want to talk."
Hadvar nodded in agreement, "I wish it hadn't come to a fight though, there was no need for us to kill each other."
"That's just your knee talking. Odd though, you don't expect to find people using bows inside a building."
They came to a small rise that overlooked the highway. They had a good view of the burning wreck of Helgen and of the long lines of distant townsfolk and Imperial soldiers retreating from the demolished ruins.
"Where are they headed?" Caius asked.
"Probably Solitude to link up with the rest of the army." Hadvar's face looked grim, as he indicated the large number of wounded riding in wagons or carried on stretchers, "Solitude's a long way from here, a lot of those wounded are going to die without proper healers."
Caius glanced at him, "If you're planning on joining them, you might want to start hobbling along."
The Nord shook his head, "I've got to get to Riverwood. I have kin there and the people need to be warned about the dragon." He hesitated before continuing, "Look, I know you've got little reason to trust me, but if you help me get to Riverwood, I have kin there. My uncle's the town blacksmith; he'll help you get on your feet." Hadvar shrugged, "Unless you have a larder hidden in those pockets of yours, Riverwood will be the best place for you to stock up."
Caius frowned, tempted by the thought. He had his leathers, his knives, a simple long bow taken from the Stormcloak archer, some dried out slices of bread, and a few coppers he'd plucked from the corpses. Not exactly a lot in the way of provisioning. "How far away is this place?"
"It's about thirty miles, but the road curves a bit, so probably the rest of this day."
Caius grimaced at the thought, but he'd have to head to Riverwood sooner or later. It might be slower with Hadvar but at least if they ran into any legion soldiers, seeing Caius carry one of their wounded would go a long ways towards making sure his head wasn't on the block any time soon.
He puffed out a long breath and stood up, "Alright then." He helped Hadvar find his balance and soon the odd pair were lurching down the road. Hadvar set a strong pace for the first hour and the road took them down to the grasslands below Helgen. They passed forests of thick pines and overhangs of mossy rock that dangled over the river that paralleled the road. The sky was blue overhead and puffy clouds lazily sailed across it. Only the plumes of black smoke rising from the southeast hinted that anything was amiss on such a beautiful day.
Hadvar started to slow as the miles crawled by. His face was an ugly gray tone and sweat dripped down from his brow and soaked his tunic. Caius had to take more and more of his weight – after a quarter-mile he was half-dragging, half-carrying the injured soldier.
"You know…" he grunted as he shifted the soldier's weight, "If we're lucky, some farmer will be taking his cart to market, stumble upon two travelers, and then be viciously hijacked."
"Or," Hadvar panted, "We could…just ask…to hitch a ride."
Caius mulled that thought over in his head and shrugged, "Hitching, hijacking, what's the difference, so long as there's no witness?"
"You're very…cynical, anyone ever tell you that?"
"What can I say? I was born jaded."
The hours, and the miles, crawled by slowly. They had to take frequent breaks for Hadvar to catch his breath. Thankfully, water wasn't an issue since much of the road paralleled the River White. The sun rose and then sank, and still they limped on. The road began to slope down as they entered a valley situated between the river and the slopes of a massive mountain chain. The two travelers entered Riverwood well after dark. It was a small community of perhaps two hundred. Most of the houses and businesses faced the main road but several side streets contained clusters of straw-thatched roofs. It was small and rural, the place didn't even have a wall.
Caius shook his head, "One good bandit raid and this place would be kindling."
Hadvar nodded, but it was obvious his mind was focused on the pain in his leg. They reached a small smithy right off the main road. The outdoor forge's fire was banked for the night and the door to the house was locked. Caius instinctively reached for a set of lock-picks that weren't there, then realized he had a legitimate reason to actually be there and knocked firmly on the door.
After a couple of knocks a light flared on in the window. A large man with long brown hair and a singed beard opened the door. He was wearing only a pair of breeches and an undershirt and he carried a lit lamp in one of his massive hands which he held up blearily before him.
:What the devil are you about, waking people at this hour?"
"Hello Uncle Alvor." Hadvar said.
"Hadvar?" Alvor raised the lamp and got a better look, "Shor's Bones, what happened you lad? Looks like you wrestled a troll. And who's this?" he added as he caught sight of the shifty looking fellow supporting his nephew.
"I can explain everything, but inside, please Uncle."
Caius drummed his fingers impatiently on the wooden table. It'd been an hour since he and Hadvar had stumbled into the smithy. After Alvor had let them in, an attractive looking Nord woman (Alvor's wife to Caius's dismay) had come out. She'd taken one look at Hadvar's leg and promptly whisked him downstairs to tend to the wound. Alvor had followed, still asking questions with every breath he took, leaving Caius suddenly alone on the first floor of the house.
Well not exactly alone. A six year old girl was seated across from him, watching him with a hawk-eyed stare. He ignored her and continued to drum his fingers.
She continued to stare.
His finger-tips rapped out a faster tempo on the tabletop. She continued to study him with the unabashed scrutiny that only children had. Caius puffed out a long, angry breath and turned towards her, "What?" he snapped.
"Did you really see a dragon?"
"Yes."
"Was it huge?"
"Yes."
"Did it burn your face off?"
The finger-tapping stopped in surprise, "What?" Caius asked incredulously.
"Did it burn your face off?" she repeated.
"No!"
"But you're wearing a hood-"
"Look," he snapped, tugging the hood off, "No melty-face, alright!"
The girl's face fell in disappointment, "That's not nearly as interesting."
Caius frowned at her, "You're a rather bloodthirsty little child, you know that?"
At that moment Alvor came up the stairs, "Dorthe," he warned, "You should be in bed."
"Aw, but I wanted to hear about the dragon!"
"Bed, Dorthe, now." The little girl beat a sullen retreat to her loft and Alvor took a seat at the table.
"How's Hadvar?"
"He might walk with a limp, but he'll recover."Alvor shook his head, "He has you to thank for cutting down that archer."
Caius shrugged waving aside the gratitude. "He pulled me out of a tight spot earlier."
"Still, I can't think of many prisoners who'd be so quick to aid their jailers."
"Look don't read too much into it," Caius grumbled, "I don't like being in peoples' debts. It's in my best interests to balance the account soon as possible."
"You make honor sound like numbers on a spreadsheet." Alvor frowned, "Can't say I agree with that notion."
Caius looked at him curiously, "What do you think favors are?"
They lapsed into an awkward silence for a few moments. "Well," Alvor shook his head, "Still can't believe it. A dragon? Bringer of the end time?"
"Don't about end times, but yeah, definitely a dragon."
"I don't feel right asking," Alvor hesitated, "Seeing as you've already helped Hadvar so much…"
"Go on." Caius said, already not liking where this was going.
"Well, it's like this, if there really be dragons about, Riverwood needs protecting." Alvor said, "Someone must take word to Jarl Baalgruff in Whiterun. Get some men sent back here."
"If you're asking me to ride for Whiterun, the answer's no." Caius snapped, "I just escaped from an execution. There is no way I'm sticking my head up anytime soon."
"Who else will go? I believe Hadvar's tale, but the rest of the town would think us insane. Hadvar can't go with his leg, Sigrun needs to be here to treat him and I won't leave my wife when a dragon could swoop down on us any minute." Alvor's face tightened with worry, "Please, traveler, you're the only one who can do this."
Caius scowled, "What will you do if I say no? Boot me out of this house, report me to the guards?" Was that the lever they were going to use?
Alvor blinked as if the thought had never occurred to him. "Shor's Bones no! I won't strong-arm you into this, you saved my nephew's life for Shor's sake. The last of the harvest came in last week, we've plenty of food and drink to supply you with if you wish to leave." He leaned forward, staring at Caius intently, "All I'm asking is that you reach Whiterun and just pass on the news, can't ask you to do any more than that." The blacksmith shook his head wryly, "I guess I'd owe you one of them debts you're so keen on."
Caius thought about it. Part of him wanted to take the supplies and walk out. That'd be the smart plan. But would it really hurt if he headed to Whiterun? It was the center of Skyrim, from there he could decide where he wanted to go, and really, what harm could come from passing on some news? Just a quick jaunt to say Good day, how do you fare and oh before I forget – there's a dragon on the loose.
It might even be fun, just to see the reaction on their faces. "Alright," he sighed, "What's the worst that could happen?"
"Good." Alvor grinned, "get some sleep now, and in the morning I'll saddle up the horse for you."
Caius froze suddenly, "You never said anything about a horse."
A/N: fun fact: Skyrim's game map is only about 15 square miles. Makes it kind of hard to write sweeping epics when your hero can walk from one end of the map to the other in about two days. So I made it bigger, :p
