Dain

They killed the dogs first.

They had been starving; there was no food left inside Fort Greymour, and the Draugr still surrounded the fort outside. Their supply of bread and everything else was completely gone, Dain had hoped that help would have arrived by now; but it seemed like Dain's hopes would prove false.

There were around twelve hounds, just barely enough to fill the remaining soldiers bellies for perhaps another day; all except for Dain, who had preferred to give some of his food to the men, and barely ate his fill.

The steel door still held the Draugr at bay; no battering ram could bring down the steel gate of Greymour. When Dain got near the gate, he could hear the Draugr speaking in their guttural language outside, Dain only hoped they did not find another way into the fort.

Hunger had haunted Dain; he could not sleep at night due to the growling of his stomach and the knowledge of the danger that was only a gate away. It seemed as if his men suffered the same affliction. Nobody in the fort slept except for the hounds before they killed them; and the rats…but they would soon have to eat them too; unless Tullius came with more men.

Dain had resided in the second level of the fort, up the spiral stairs was a small room that Dain called his. It was filled with only a small bed and a few books to take Dain's mind of his hunger. The books were decent and served for a time, but when Dain had read them, and then re-read them; they no longer enticed him as they once did.

Also inside the room were two other soldiers, Dain's two right hand men, Merek and Edmund. Each clad in simple Imperial light armor would often stay with Dain to discuss the status of the situation.

On this day they had both been in the room as always when Dain marched in, not surprised to see them there.

Merek had been tall, but he was not very strong, he could swing a sword, but not very hard. He was almost balding, and his skin was the usual color for any imperial, slightly tanned but still light.

Edmund on the other hand had been Merek's opposite; a short man of unbelievable strength, his hair had been shoulder length, and blonde; he was a Nord by heart, and showed it in battle.

Dain would often come to them for advice, and he did so this day as well. Just coming back from killing the last of the hounds; he had ate little, but it was enough to satisfy him; he left the rest for the men.

"Just killed the last of them…" Dain sighed as he sat down.

"How many were left?" Merek asked, grabbing the book of the dresser."

"There were three, not enough to feed all the soldiers, so their cutting it up into very small pieces and cooking them now."

"Good." Edmund said, "Hopefully help will arrive in time."

"The boy probably got killed by a troll, or maybe a Frostbite Spider got to him." Dain said.

"Or he deserted." Murmured Merek,

"Have faith," Edmund began, "Surely Tullius has sent men to rescue us, you must remember that it takes time to march from Solitude to Whiterun."

Dain sighed. "Even if men are coming, we probably would have all died of hunger by then."

Dain knew the truth of it, he would not waste time lying to himself, they would die in this very Fort, but he did not tell the men what he thought, he had to keep their spirits up, and at least live their final days with hope in their heart.

"What about water? Do we have enough?" Merek asked.

"Enough for another day, after that…our stores will be depleted."

"Talos save us…" Merek muttered.

When they first withdrew inside Greymour, they had a large supply of water for them, but as time went on their supply dwindled, until they were almost out. The worst part was that the men did not know…only Dain and the two that stood before him.

"Well…all hope is lost." Merek said.

"Unless Tullius comes soon…you may be right." Dain said.

Even Edmund, who had become the supply of hope for the others, had a grim and defeated look about his face, and Dain could not blame him. Death was almost certain; all they could do now was hope.

"Let us hope that the Gods answer our prayers." Edmund told them.

"I don't think the gods will help us." Dain said.

"What makes you say that?" Merek asked.

Dain sighed, "Ask yourself, what have we done for the Gods to inflict this disaster upon us? Spilled the blood of our own kind, inflicted war upon the land, and made the realm bleed. Thieves walk the streets, and assassins run rampant killing on sight; the gods have grown tired of us, and decided that it is time to cleanse the world of our existence."

"I…you may be right." Edmund said. "But still, we must have hope; or else we have nothing."

Dain kept silent, realizing that all his talk was only dampening the spirits of Merek and Edmund, the last thing he wanted; he started to realize what the lack of food and sleep was doing to his spirits.

"Forgive me, my Lords…I haven't slept in days, and I haven't eaten much." Dain said.

"Who has? I haven't slept since the battle." Edmund said, "But it is our duty to raise the spirits of our men when we ourselves feel like all is lost."

"You are right." Dain said. "I will retire to my bed my lords, if you would excuse me."

And with that Edmund and Merek rose from their chairs, "Sleep well, Legate." Merek said as he was leaving.

Dain fell on his bed; he believed everything he told the two; the gods would never allow something like this to happen unless they had grown tired of the inhabitants of Skyrim…of Tamriel.

He fell into his bed, his eyes getting heavier as h sunk into the straw mattress; perhaps he would sleep tonight.

He finally closed his eyes, and felt himself slowly drift away, until he fell asleep or the first time in days.

In his dreams he had been standing upon a field of grass, a plain that looked like the plains of Whiterun. He ran forward, seeing no Draugr; his heart was suddenly filled with joy, until he saw several figures ahead, he ran towards them; and they seemed farther away then he originally thought, he grew exhausted and took a break, then ran to them once again.

He saw General Tullius, in his normal armor, with a blade drawn, he saw another man, he was young and his hair was jet black and fell down to his shoulders, his skin was light, and a small crown rested upon his head.

And then Dain witnessed as Tullius and the other man disappeared, nowhere to be found, and then out of the blue came another man, an elf; whose skin was as pale as the snow.

His hair was long and white, not blonde, but white. He was of average height, and fairly muscular, but not really muscular, like most Nords. His eyes were a deep shade of blue, he was clad in an ancient armor Dain had never seen, and on the armor was an engraved dragon, and he looked at Dain and smiled.

"There will always be hope." He said. and he did not disappear, until Dain woke the next morning.

There you have it! sorry that it wasn't filled with action and was short, but trust me, there will be war and death in the future, I can give you that!

Just to let you know, Dain isn't always such a stickler in real life, he is hungry and tired; he isn't always as hopeless and doom driven.

And what about that dream? what do you think it means? tell me in the reviews!

Love it? Hate it? tell me so I can make your reading experience better in the future!