I woke up in a creaking, swaying cart. Groaning, I looked around; The cart was full of Nords, with the exception of me and Domino. We were all bound, our hands tied in front of us with a thick-twined rope. Domino sat across from me in the cart. Our clothes and few possessions I had were taken from us and we were dressed in brown roughly spun tunics. I stifled a groan as I looked around. Me and Domino were in the middle of a cart, which rocked down a rough mountain trail with uneven paving stones marking it. There was another cart behind us. With the exception of me and Domino, all were Nords, I recognised them from the campsite.

"Hey, you, you're finally awake." Me and Domino looked over at the Nord to my left. "You were the ones sneaking into our camp at the Pale Pass, right?" I just stared at him and he continued with his questions regardless.
"Trying to cross the border? Walked into that Imperial ambush, the same as us, and that thief over there." I looked at the man he indicated. He was the only Nord dressed in the same rough-spun tunic as me and Domino. He glared at the armoured Nord.
"Damn you, Stormcloaks." He spat, "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 looked at me, "Hey you two, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
The Stormcloak solider shook his head. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." He lamented.
"Shut up back there!" The solider driving the cart shouted.
I looked around and spotted another cart, ahead of us on the mountain road.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief had asked, nodding to the prisoner on my right. He was the Nord lord, and unlike the rest of us he was also gagged as well as bound. Though I noticed that unlike me, Domino and the thief he wasn't forced into rags.
"Watch your tongue!" The Stormcloak solider snapped. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"
At that the Nord Thief paled. "Ulfric?" He asked, "The Jarl of Windhelm?" He looked around, fearfully, "But if they captured you… oh gods, where are they taking us?"
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." He said, with the air of one going to the gallows. Domino's hands found mine and gripped them tight, the brand on her face stood stark red on her pale face. My throat was too tight for comforting words to her, so I leant over to stroke her hair.
"No, this can't be happening. This can't be happening." The thief whimpered.
"Hey, what village are you from, horse-thief?" The Stormcloak solider asked gently.
"What do you care?" He asked.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
The thief stayed quiet for a while. "Rorikstead, I'm…I'm from Rorikstead." He said at last.
I looked at Domino and I could tell she was thinking of our old home in the Imperial City: The abandoned Watchtower in the Waterfront District.