CHAPTER ONE: Welcome to Skyrim Online! (Or the day I almost got killed, but then saved, only to end up being almost killed again.)

It started simple enough. I bought an innocent-looking game, Skyrim. It was supposed to be the best game ever. Everyone's been talking about it for months, as it's the world's first virtual reality game. You just put on the helmet, and you are transported to the magical world of Skyrim. I drove home and dashed through the front door.

"Slow down! What's the hurry?" My mom asked as I ran through the kitchen to the den.

"I just got my game!" I explained as I opened the box and got out the helmet.

"Oh, is that the new game you've been talking about for so long?" Mother asked.

"Yeah."

I took all of the plastic off the helmet and admired its shininess.

"You had better let your brother play that too," My mom warned.

"No way," I argued. "I paid for it myself. Why should I let him wreck it?" My younger brother was notorious for whining until he was allowed to play with my stuff. Then when he played with it, he always broke it. I was not about to let him wreck all 200 bucks worth of technological glory.

"He's your brother. You should share." With that, my mother went back to the kitchen.

I put the game in the helmet and prepared to put it on. I was a little nervous. Would it be scary? Would it hurt? My excitement peaked, and I threw it on. I would be able to play for a few hours before my father came home for dinner. I could have almost five hours of Skyrim!

The game whirred to life, and the logos for the game companies sprang before my eyes. So far nothing special, but then the world sprang to life. I was in a plain room, facing myself in a mirror. It was amazing. My character looked exactly like me at first, just a plain short girl, but then I was allowed to edit my appearance. I made myself about 5'6'' and gave myself black hair in a ponytail. I had blue eyes and some sort of default clothes. They were rags. Nice. When I was edited to my heart's content, I joined the world.

I heard that every character is different from the next. The game box had a really cool explanation on the back: Bethesda proudly presents its newest game in the Elder Scrolls series: Elder Scrolls V Skyrim. Skyrim is a revelation to the video game world! With new enhanced virtual reality helmet, you can delve into the world of Tamriel like never before. Each player is free to create a life for their character that is unique from every other. However, Skyrim is far from peaceful. A new terror is threatening Tamriel and only one character has the power to stop them, the mythical Dragonborn. Will you be the Dragonborn? Will you help save the world? The power to choose is in your hands.

As my character spawned into the world, I wondered what I'd be. Would I be some random shopkeeper or a mercenary? Maybe I'd be Dragonborn. When I first got the game and read the box, I had wanted to be the Dragonborn more than anything. Now that I was spawning into this new and unfamiliar world, I decided that being the Dragonborn would kind of suck. The fate of the rest of the game and every other player would be at your fingertips. It seemed like a great way to mess up and make a lot of enemies. I didn't need that kind of pressure. I was excited to become some sort of sellsword or hero of some kind. Maybe I could be the Dragonborn's sidekick! After all, there are thousands, maybe millions, of people playing this game. What are the chances that I'd be Dragonborn?

I was ripped from my musings as my character generated into the world. My vision was black for a while, and I wondered why. It took me a while to realize I was unconscious. I heard what sounded like wagon wheels on stone along with some horse hooves. I came to slowly and opened my eyes. The light was dazzling and bright, so much in fact, it was hard to see. After a few moments, my eyes adjusted, and I looked around at Skyrim for the first time.

The world was so breathtakingly beautiful. It looked real. I was in the back of a wagon, riding down a winding path from the mountains. The forest surrounding us was alive, despite the cold weather and the snow. Birds flew from the trees and deer scattered as the wagon got near them. I couldn't believe my eyes. I almost forgot all about my life outside the game. The pictures before my eyes and the feeling was too life-like.

The scenery was so amazing, that I slowly began to realize that something was really wrong. My hands were bound with a coarse rope in front of me. I panicked and tried to pry myself free. My struggling must have caught someone's attention, because a voice called out to me.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." I quickly looked to my right and noticed for the first time that I was not alone in this wagon. A man in blue armor was looking at me intently. He had long blonde hair and a beard, and his hands were bound too. "You spawned right in the middle of an Imperial ambush, friend. Tough luck. I was fighting in the battle when I saw an Imperial dog take you away. Looks like you have bad luck, same as that thief over there."

He gestured with his head to a man to my right. This man looked ragged and a bit jittery. He wore rags like me. He was also bound.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell," the thief said.

I had no idea what was going on. These guys seemed like they really knew their stuff. They must have been beta testers, people who go the game early to test it. I was unaware there was a war going on. Apparently, the Empire and these Stormcloaks in blue were at war. Over what, I wasn't sure. I was unfortunately caught up in the middle of this nonsense before I ever spawned. Great. I got jittery myself as the thief was talking. I began to fiddle with my bonds again. Even though it was just rope, I couldn't get out. Just as I was about to try and bite them off, the thief turned to me.

"You there…" he began in a nervous tone. "You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

I was just about to open my mouth and ask what they were going to do with us, when the Stormcloak in blue spoke up again in a sharp tone.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there," grumbled the wagon driver in red armor. He must have been an Imperial soldier. I noticed that we weren't the only wagon. There was another wagon that was full of Stormcloak prisoners right in front of us. I wondered where we were going, and what would happen to me. Is it possible my character could die before I even get a chance to play? I looked back to the thief to ask him if he knew where we were going, but he was looking at another player to my right. I hadn't noticed this player before. He wasn't like the rest of us in the wagon. He was a very big man, built like a bear, dressed in very fine furs. Not only was he bound, but he was also gagged. He had an air of authority to him. He didn't seem the least bit afraid. He only seemed angry. The thief must have noticed this too.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" He asked.

The Stormcloak's sudden rage made me jump. "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." A king? How did one player become a king? Was he generated as one, or did he take the crown by force? Why couldn't I have been someone else?

The thief spoke up again. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?" Okay, so this player, Ulfric, was the leader of a rebellion against the Empire. I thought I was starting to get it. I wondered about the thief's last question. Where were we going?

"I don't know where we are going, but Sovngarde awaits," the Stormcloak answered.

"What's Sovngarde?" I spoke up for the first time. It seemed to surprise the other players.

"Hah, I forgot," the Stormcloak soldier said. "You're new. Sovngarde is the afterlife for Nords like me and you. Anything else you need to know?"

I was so grateful someone was willing to help me out. I had no idea how much time I had, so I quickly thought of the most important questions I wanted to know.

"What's up with this war?" I decided.

"Well, we Stormcloaks have lived in the Nordic land of Skyrim our whole lives. We're natives here. We were the alpha testers of the video game. Then the beta testers came and most of them spawned as Empire soldiers, and they tried to take over our land. Now, the Empire wants to take over Skyrim, and make us worship their gods instead of our own, so now Skyrim is in a civil war."

Okay, that made sense.

"This is your first time in Skyrim then? You weren't a beta tester?" The soldier asked me.

"No, I've never played before. This is a first," I answered.

"Well, I'm Ralof from Riverwood. Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" He asked.

"Why do you care?" He snapped back.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The soldier sounded sad and far away.

"Rorikstead," the thief answered. "I'm… I'm from Rorikstead."

Last thoughts? I was not about to die! We had made it to a city. A soldier standing at the gate called out to the man on the horse leading the procession of wagons.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

Headsman? Are we seriously going to an execution? Lovely. My heart rate increased, and it felt like my stomach dropped to my feet.

"Good," Tullius responded. "Let's get this over with."

The gates to the city opened, and we proceeded into the village. The thief began to ramble about something. I think it was about the gods. I was more focused on watching Tullius, as he rode his horse up to some other people on horses near the gate.

"Look at him," Ralof spoke up gruffly. "General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

We rode past them and went deeper into the city. It seemed like a quiet little village. If we were here under different circumstances, I might have actually enjoyed it here. People were sitting on their porches watching our silent procession.

Ralof broke the silence first. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in."

We were quiet again for a few moments. He seemed lost in sad memories, and I had nothing to add. What do you say when you're riding to your execution?

"Funny," Ralof started again. "When I was a low level, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

I wanted to comfort him or, at least, say something, but my voice wouldn't work. I decided to stare at my bound hands instead. Why did I even buy this game? I didn't know if this stress was worth it. I thought about exiting the game to possibly get out of my death, however, I didn't know how to get back to the main menu.

"Hey, Ralof? How do we get back to the main menu to quit?" I asked.

"What?"

"How do we quit?" I repeated.

Ralof eyes look glazed over. He seemed deep in thought. "I don't know…"

I was going to question him more, but the words died in my mouth as we rounded a corner, and I caught sight of the executioner and the block. I picked up on some of the citizen's chatter.

"Who are they, daddy?" A small boy asked his father. "Where are they going?"

The father looked nervous and said, "You need to go inside, little cub."

The boy looked upset. "Why? I want to watch the soldiers."

The dad seemed more desperate now. "Inside the house. Now."

The child gave up and went inside. The first wagon stopped by the block. Ours began to pull up next to the other and stop[ed as well. A female captain started barking orders.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief panicked.

"Why do you think?" Ralof asked. "End of the line."

I sighed and looked at my hands again. Why did this have to happen? Ralof sighed as well.

"Let's go." He looked at me. "Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." Even though I didn't want to die, if it was inevitable, I would get up and face it.

Ralof got to his feet, and I followed. Ulfric was already out of the wagon, but the thief was not as cooperative.

"No! Wait! We aren't rebels!" He argued but got to his feet anyway. I was starting to get annoyed with his cowardice. It didn't seem like these soldiers would listen to us. The thief's cries were not helping. Ralof must have started to think the same thing.

"Face your death with some courage, thief," he said.

The thief wouldn't listen, though. "You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

I jumped out of the back of the wagon after the thief. Our little group of prisoners from our cart assembled in front of two grave-looking Imperial soldiers. One was a man, the other was a female captain by the looks of her armor and the tone of her voice.

"Step towards the block when we call your name," she barked. "One at a time."

Ralof jumped out of the wagon and landed to my left.

"Empire loves their damn lists," he grumbled.

The male soldier read from a great list, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

Ulfric stepped forward and onward towards the block, dignified as ever.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," Ralof said to him as the Jarl passed us to head to the block.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the soldier called. Ralof silently walked away from our group. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

The thief, Lokir, stepped forward and said, "No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" With that, he dashed past the Captain and down the road.

"Halt!" The Captain bellowed. Lokir kept running.

"You're not going to kill me!" He shouted back at her.

"Archers!" The Captain retaliated. An archer on the street took aim and shot Lokir dead with a single arrow to the back. I winced. I was annoyed that Lokir was stupid enough to run away like that, but I was also sad for the poor bastard. This was way messed up. Maybe if your character dies, you can come back as a new one. I wasn't too sure on that, though.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain asked, looking at me. I said nothing and kept a blank face to mask my fear and anger.

"Wait," the soldier with the list said. "You there. Step forward." I did. "Who are you?"

Somehow I found my voice and answered, "Falena. I'm new here. I just spawned into this world."

The soldier looked confused. "What is a first timer doing out here? How'd you get out here? All first-time players spawn by Whiterun."

"I don't know, sir," I responded. "I'm very confused and lost."

"Well, you picked a bad time to come to Skyrim kinsman," he said to me. Then, he turned to the Captain who had stayed uncharacteristically quiet during our conversation. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list."

The Captain put her hands on her hips and ordered, "Forget the list. She goes to the block."

It may have been a trick of the light, but I could have sworn I saw the soldier wince. Nevertheless, he said, "By your orders, Captain. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

My heart raced again as I followed the stern woman to join the group of almost a dozen prisoners. We all faced the block as Tullius stepped forward and addressed Ulfric.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric grunted something into his gag.

The General continued, "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

All of a sudden, Tullius was cut off by a noise rising over the wind. It sounded like the wind itself, almost. I thought I had imagined it, but everyone else was looking around for the noise as well.

"What was that?" The soldier with the list asked.

"It's nothing," Tullius dismissed. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius," the Captain saluted. What a kiss ass. "Give them their last rites."

A woman in robes stepped forward and raised her hands in blessing. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of…"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," a ginger Stormcloak cut in.

The priestess let down her arms and said, "As you wish." She walked back to her spot, and the ginger Stormcloak strode forward to the block.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning," he said. The Captain pushed him to his knees and then kicked him onto the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" This guy was tough.

The executioner, dressed in black, picked up his axe and slowly rose it up behind him, and then let it down on the Stormcloak's neck, easily beheading him. I was too frightened to look away. A collective gasp had gone through the crowd of civilians watching from their porches as it had happened. It was almost fascinating how easy the execution had looked. The ginger's head fell into the basket. The body spurt out blood like a ketchup bottle for a moment, then fell off the block and to the ground. I probably would have vomited if I would have had anything in my stomach.

Angry shouts sounded around the square as civilians cursed either side of the war. I had tunnel vision on the decapitated body in front of me. That would be me in a few minutes. My knees shook, and I almost fainted.

"As fearless in death as he was in life," I heard Ralof say. It helped me out of my tunnel vision, and I looked to him. His face was blank, and he too seemed to have tunnel vision on the body. I wondered if he had known that Stormcloak well.

"Next," I heard the Captain call, "the Nord in rags!"

My heart caught in my throat. That was me. I tried to look as tough as the ginger Stormcloak, but my feet refused to work. Thank the gods that the noise rose over the distant mountains again like wind, buying me some time to collect myself.

"There it is again," the list man said. "Did you hear that?" There was no mistaking it, the noise had sounded louder this time. It was probably just the wind or a wild animal. I just wanted to get this execution over with.

The Captain seemed unfazed, "I said, next prisoner!"

The soldier turned to me. "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." I saw something in his eyes. Regret? Hopelessness? Pseudo-sadness? I couldn't tell.

At least, I got control of my limbs back. I slowly walked to the block until I was standing in front of it with my back to the Captain. I locked eyes with the executioner for a moment. His red eyes seemed to glow under his hood. I felt the Captain's hand on my shoulder guiding me to my knees, then her foot on my back sending me almost sprawling onto the block. My right cheek hit the stone hard, and I felt the ginger Stormcloak's blood smear across my cheek. It was still warm, and the metallic smell stung my nose. I was disgusted, so I lifted my head a bit from the stone and looked to the executioner.

I couldn't believe this was it. It wasn't fair! I was innocent. I wanted to say something brave like the ginger, but I kept my mouth closed, in case it should open, and I would say something cowardly like the thief.

The executioner hefted his axe and slowly raised it, just as he had done previously. Then, the noise like wind broke out again. However, this time, we saw the culprit behind it.

A large black figure flew over the mountains and fell unto the tower just behind the executioner. I got a good look at it for a moment. It was unmistakable. This was a pure black dragon with piercing red eyes. It had terrible black horns jutting out from his head, back, and even his wings. The dragon was so massive, that it seemed overwhelming to look at, and I found that I couldn't really describe it even though I saw it. Those eyes caught your attention and held your gaze so that you couldn't escape even if you tried. I was too shocked and scared to say anything. I didn't know this game had dragons in it. I had a friend who alpha tested it, and he had never said anything about dragons.

"What in Oblivion is that?" I heard the General ask from somewhere behind me.

"Sentries!" The Captain shouted. "What do you see?"

"It's in the clouds!" Someone screamed.

"Dragon!" Shouted another.

The executioner was just about to let the axe fall on my neck. I had almost forgotten that I was about to die. Just before I could be killed, however, the dragon opened his jaw and let loose a noise like a bellow. A power surge struck everyone around, and my executioner fell dead. I was pushed off the block and onto my face. I was dazed and disoriented. Whatever that beast did, I hoped it wasn't permanent. I couldn't see straight, but I could still hear the chaos. A lot of people must have survived because there was screaming and yelling over the sound of explosions.

"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing!" Tullius cried.

"Keep your eyes on it!"

"It's still coming!"

"By Ysmir! Nothing kills it!"

Then, a voice near me spoke out over the noise.

"Hey, first-timer. Get up!" I raised my head and tried to see who had called out to me. All I saw were shapes and colors. I was incredibly dizzy. I saw blue, so it was a Stormcloak before me. It must have been Ralof. I struggled to me feet. "Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"

I stood shakily and followed Ralof into a tower across the square. He closed the thick door behind us which really dampened the noise from outside. We weren't alone in the tower.

"Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof greeted the Jarl who had somehow escaped like we had. "What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had never seen a dragon before.

"Legends don't burn down villages," the Jarl responded in a low accented voice. "We need to move. Now!"

I had finally regained my sight, thank the gods. Otherwise, escaping from a dragon would have been so much harder.

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof said. I led the way up the spiral stairs behind me. I had almost made it to a landing. There was another Stormcloak up there already, and he was trying to clear the path of rocks.

"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!" He said as I approached.

Before I could make it over to him, the section of the wall imploded and fell on top of him. I fell back down a few stairs as the head of the dragon came bursting through the wall.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

The dragon blasted a jet of fire right where the Stormcloak had been. That soldier was way dead. The fire burned so brightly, I was nearly blinded again. Even though I was at no risk of being burnt as this distance, I still felt the heat. It was uncomfortable even at this distance, and I looked away. Soon, the dragon flew off to bother other citizens.

Ralof collected himself faster than I did, and he made it to the landing first. I quickly joined him and looked out the hole in the wall.

"See the inn on the other side?" He asked me.

"Yes," I responded.

"Jump through the roof and keep going!" He told me.

"What about you?" I asked.

Ralof gave me a stern look and said louder, "Go! We'll follow when we can!"

I didn't argue and leapt out the side of the burning tower and to the roof of the inn. The roof didn't hold, and I fell to the top floor. The inn was on fire too. I got to my feet, my hands still bound, and jogged to the far side of the inn. There was a hole in the floor that I jumped through to get to the first level of the inn. From there, I traveled outside and was met with an obstacle.

I saw the soldier who had the list earlier standing by a crumbling building with an old man. A little farther off past the house was a young boy and his father. The dragon was preparing to land right in front of them.

"Haming, you need to get over here. Now!" The boy heeded the soldier's words and ran to him as the dragon landed in front of his father. "Torolf!" The soldier cried as the beast chomped on Torolf, the boy's father, and killed him. "Gods… Everyone get back!"

The dragon had seen us and was about to loose a stream of fire. The old man grabbed me by the collar and forced me to crouch behind cover. The soldier pushed the boy roughly to me, and I grabbed him. The soldier ducked behind cover as a torrent of flame erupted where we all had been standing just moments before. I turned my back to the flame and tried to cover the boy. Even though I was standing away from the fire, my back got a little burnt. The pain wasn't terrible, but I was glad the boy didn't get hurt.

When the fire died, the dragon swooped off again. The soldier turned to me. "Still alive, prisoner?"

"Just barely," I replied.

"Keep close to me if you want to stay that way," he finished. I released the boy, and the soldier told the old man, "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense."

The old man took the boy's hand and responded, "Gods guide you, Hadvar."

With that, Hadvar and I took off running deeper into the burning city. We had only just rounded the corner from Gunnar and Hamming, when Hadvar yelled, "Stay close to the wall!"

I didn't question him as we both dove to the left and stood with our backs to the wall. No sooner, the dragon landed on the wall above us and let out another storm of fire, destroying the home in front of us. We could have been in there. I was glad Hadvar had such a keen eye.

I got a great look at the dragon as it towered over us. I was directly below its neck. The neck was about as thick as a tree, and its scales were as black as oil. The fire's reflection seemed to dance in each individual scale, making the beast seem even more unreal. Thank the gods that the dragon flew off before it noticed Hadvar and me.

"Quickly, follow me!" Hadvar advanced on through the home that the dragon had just torched. I followed very closely so I wouldn't get split up in the confusion.

We broke in and then out of the house and found ourselves right before the gate that we entered the city through. It seemed every survivor was gathered here. Wounded and dead lay on the ground in pools of blood, children and families ran like panicked livestock, and soldiers scurried around firing arrows as they went. There were more survivors than I thought. Tullius was still alive and called out to Hadvar as soon as he saw him.

"Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving!" He yelled.

"It's you and me, prisoner," Hadvar told me as we ran for the keep. "Stay close!" We were running to the keep. The keep was a strong mass of stonework. It looked like we could be safe there. It looked kind of like a castle. If that couldn't save us, I didn't know what would.

We had almost made it, when Ralof and the other Stormcloaks appeared from the smoke.

"Ralof!" Hadvar yelled. I didn't know they knew each other. "You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time," Ralof retorted.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." With that, Hadvar and Ralof stalked off in opposite directions. Ralof stood by a hole in the keep wall, while Hadvar stood at the door. Both looked expectantly at me.

"You!" Ralof called. "Come on, into the keep!" He gestured wildly for me to hurry.

"Come on, prisoner! This way!" Hadvar motioned as well.

I wasn't sure what to do. Ralof was a fellow prisoner and had helped me out more then Hadvar. However, Hadvar did help me get past the dragon, and he seemed nicer than Ralof did. On the other hand, I knew Ralof longer, and Hadvar had technically tried to kill me.

I wasted a few precious moments deciding, and the dragon was coming around for another strike. I decided to act and not think. My feet led me to Hadvar, and we were safe in the keep, the thick door muffling the sounds of screams from the outside.