He woke up leaning on his side. His vision was blurry and he was sure he was bleeding from the side if his head.
He let out a groan and alerted the others with him he had awoken.
" Finally awake huh? " Asked the vaguely yellow and blue blob across from him.
He blinked and tried to rub his eyes only to find his hands bound.
" What the-? " He asked himself mostly before the figure infront of him interrupted his thought.
" You took a hit in the ambush. At the border. " He said, apparently trying to be helpful but really just making his headache worse.
He tried to focus and remember what happened.
But it was all a blur. Half formed shapes of red and blue that blended together.
" W-who are you? " He asked as his vision began to clear. The man across from him was a strong built man with bright hair and blue eyes. A picture perfect image of a Nord.
" Ralof, proud son of Skyrim. " He puffed his chest at his declaration. Son of Skyrim. That sounded familiar.
" Where are we? " He asked Ralof. He looked around the best he could and saw they were passing through some woods on a stone pathway. Himself and three others in the back of the cart.
" On our way to an Imperial outpost no doubt. " The Nord said as he took a look around. He seemed atleast somewhat familiar with the terrain. "We're near Riverwood and Helgen. If I had to guess I'd say we're going too Helgen. " Ralof mused. As Ralof was busy with his thoughts he took the time to see his other brothers in binds.
Both were darker haired than Ralof but they couldn't be further apart.
The one next too him was an even bigger Nord than Ralof, wearing a suit of leather and metal armor that seemed like it was made for a king. It looked like he would be at home in either a throneroom or battlefield.
And he had a gag in his mouth, the only one who did.
Across from him sat a thin jittery man. He had eyes that seemed to sink into his skull and every other minute he did his best to look behind himself. "Wh-why are we going there?" Asked the nervous man.
Ralof looked over the passing landscape as he spoke. "To join our forefathers in Sovengard. " He said, somewhat wistfully.
The thin man had a look of horror on his face, he quickly turned his attention to the gagged man. "And you, what's your story? " He asked rather harshly.
Ralof evidently took offense to this as he whipped around on the lanky man and snapped at him. "Watch your tone. You speak to Ulfric Stormcloak, true high king of Skyrim. " He spat out.
The ringing dulled at that name. The memory came pouring in. 'Stormcloak. The rebellion, and I'm locked in a cart with the leader. Shit.' He hung his head at his misfortune.
Something harshly hit him in the back of the head. As he fell and Ralof caught him he just barley heard what his assailant said.
"Shut up back there!" They ordered and shifted the spear in their hands.
Ralof helped him back onto the seat. "Damn Imperials." He hissed.
Now with an even greater headache he tried and focus his once again swimming vison. The thin man was silently crying.
Ralof also noticed. "What's your name horse thief?" He softly asked.
Blinking the tears from his eyes he looks up. "Lokir, my names Lokir." He mumbled.
"Where are you from Lokir?"
"Rorikstead, I'm from Rorikstead. Why?"
Ralof looked ahead at the approaching walls. "A Nords last thoughts should be of home." He said softly, mabye to himself.
Lokir went back to crying, Ulfric had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply. Ralof turned.
"And you, what's your name?"
"Zane, Zane Black of High Rock." He said and rubbed his temples.
"Well met, Zane of High Rock. If only it was upon other circumstances." He lamented and watched as they approached the walls.
Zane wiggled his hands as much as possible, only rubbing his wrists raw. 'Strong rope, new.' Nothing metal or sharp he could saw his binds against.
He reached for his leg but only now noticed he had been striped and changed. Rather than his armor of leather and steel he was wearing rawhide and some wrappings on his feet.
'Meaning all my gears gone too. Shit.' He thought and tried to see if a stray nail was sticking out. No such luck. He tried to form fire but somthing was interfering with his magic, probably the strange leather wrap around his neck.
Upon passing through the gate he looked up when Ralof cursed. "General Tullius the military governor." He glared at the man in his shining armor on his war horse. He and a pair of guards had stopped a trio of golden skinned elves, Altmeri or High elves, from intercepting the prisoner convoy.
"Bet the damn elves had something to do with that ambush." Ralof said and turned his back to them. He looked up at the watchtower, a pair of archers glaring down at them. "Funny, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." He said wistfully.
Zane looked around. The road leading to the garrison was flanked on each side with heavy infantry with spears and shields. Watching from their porches and windows the townsfolk jeered and cheered at the prisoners.
'No friends here, can't rely on a rescue.'
"I used to be sweet on a girl from here, saw her when I hauled up the lumber." Ralof shared and turned to the tavern. "I wonder if they still make the mead with the juniper berries mixed in." He had a small smile at the memories.
Approaching the western watchtower the carts pulled to a stop. Guards start hauling them out onto the wet ground.
"Form a line you degenerates, single file!" A legionary shouted.
The walls were manned by more soilders with heavier weapons, cannons and ballistas. Those however were aimed outward to defend the walls.
Trotting to the waiting headman and priestess General Tullius dismounted and handed the reins to a soilder. His legendary blade Jugment sheathed on his hip, and on the other side hung Rikvard. A near mythical weapon said to have to brought to Skyrim by a companion of Ysgramor. By the glare Ulfric threw at the general it was probably in his possession prior to his arrest.
They we're split into three lines where an Imperial soilder would list the names of the Stormcloaks they knew would be at the ambush.
"Next." The red-haired nord called up as Ulfric simply walked straight past him.
Lokir slowly shuffled up and kept his gaze on the ground.
"Name prisoner?" The soilder requested. And that set him off.
Lokir went from quiet and subdued to loudly protesting in an instant. "I'm not a Stormcloak, you can't do this! Please!" He yelled.
The soldier turned to the captian but she shook her head and he sighed.
Seeing they were going to send him anyway Lokir took off running, knocking them out of the way. "No I won't let you!"
"Stop now! Archers!" The captain ordered and immediately fives arrows were flying. They all found their mark in Lokir's back.
The captain spun back to the rest. "Anyone else feel like running?" She snarled. "Next prisoner, now!"
Ralof walked forward with a straight back and not a splinter of fear in his eyes. "Ralof of Riverwood, true son of Skyrim." Not waiting for an acknowledgement he walked past them to join his brothers in arms.
Growling at the display the captain turned to Zane. "Move prisoner, now!" She hollered.
He walked up. Something was heard by everyone. Some strange shriek emanating from the mountains.
"What was that?" Asked the soilder holding the list.
The captain glanced at the mountain over her shoulder but quickly shook it off. "It was nothing legionary, focus on the prisoner." She ordered.
"Yes ma'am. Your name?"
"Zane Black of High Rock, and under what crime am I being charged?" He needed to buy time, think of a plan.
"You, and you associates, are charged with attempting sedition, murder of Imperial personal, and numerous accounts of stealing Imperial cargo." The Nord absent-mindedly awnsered as he scanned the list, only to frown. "Captain, he's not on the list." He informed his superior.
Zane watched her for any subtle move that may give him an opening. Her hand drifted to her waist and his eyes widened before he glared.
'That's my knife, you bitch.' Seathed on her belt was the familiar blade and scabbard. 'Must have claimed it after I was knocked out.'
"Irrelevant, he goes to the block." She ordered with a sadistic shine in her eye.
"By your orders captain." The soilder submitted, though clearly not happily. "We'll ensure your remains are returned to High Rock." He promised, that was all he could do.
Zane was led by both to the other prisoners. The general had halted the priestess from saying her prayers and stepped up to Ulfric, his guards half drawing their shortswords.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Skyrim call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to kill their king and usurpe the throne." He pronounced and many of the observing townsfolk cheering at the speech. "But now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace." He proclaimed and nodded to the priestess as he stepped back.
The woman raised her arms and closed her eyes. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight divines be upon you." Many of the Stormcloaks either glared or rolled their eyes at the absence of the ninth god from her prayer. One in particular marched to the block.
"For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with." He walked by the priestess to the headsman.
"As you wish." The now sour-faced priestess said and returned to the observers.
The captain approached him and forced him down, he lightly resisted just to show he could, and adjusted his head to sit comfortably.
"Well, I haven't got all day." He challenged his executioner. The black hooded man looked to Tullius who nodded.
As the axe was raised the rebel said his final words.
"My ancestors are smiling upon me Imperials, can you say the same!" He cried out as the axe fell. His head tumbled as the captain rolled his body aside with a smirk.
"Justice!" A woman yelled out.
"Death to the Stormcloaks!" A man cried.
Another Stormcloak was near tears. "You Imperial bastards!" She nearly fell to her knees.
"As fearless in death, as he was in life. May we meet again in the Hall of Heros, my friend." Ralof lowered his head in respect.
"Next prisoner!" The captain yelled and pointed at Zane. "The Breton with the green eyes." She selected.
Another sound from the mountains, this one clearer, and closer.
"There it is again." The soilder from before muttered, and even Tullius was turning to the mountain.
"I said, next prisoner." The captain growled out.
The soilder quietly sighed, used to this. "Move along prisoner, nice and slow." He ordered Zane.
He slowly walked up and a plan started to form. 'I'll need perfect timing. As he swings the axe they'll be a point where he can't stop it, at that point I raise my arms and pull back my neck.' He reached the block and the captain forced him down. 'Next grab the captain, she'll have just unseathed her blade so I'll get in close. Disarm her and use the knife to threaten her.' His gaze darted to the gathered rebels. 'By them most of them will take their chance, in the chaos I'll dump the hostage and make for the road. And vanish in the woods. Not perfect, and too open to chance, but it's somthing.' As his head was forced down he felt fairly confident in his plan.
He took a deep breath as the axe was raised. But then he forgot all about his plan, his preparation to escape abandoned as he watch history come to life before his eyes.
A dragon. A dragon black of scales and glowing red as if it's heart pulsing fire through it's veins. And coming straight for them.
"Shit!" He cursed and rolled away, taking the captian with him. He reached to her belt and pulled his dagger free, scabbard and all.
The scabbard was carved wood with a metal cap on the end. With no way to draw the blade he simply stabbed her neck with that. A jagged ugly hole was gushing blood as he stood up.
The dragon landed on the keep and roared out words, too quick and loud to make out. But they darkened the sky and sent flaming rocks hurtling twords the earth.
"This way Zane!" He looked and saw Ralof holding the door to the tower open. He ran and dived in just as he felt the air burn as the dragon sent a wave of flames in his direction. The Nord slammed the door and him and another pulled a large shelf infront to barricade it.
"Was that really a dragon?" The Nord asked. "Straight from the legends, the bringers of the end-times." He grimly recalled the stories of his youth.
Ulfric whiped blood from his axe, which he grabbed off Tullius in the chaos. "Legends don't burn down villages." He said in a deep smooth voice. The tower shook and pieces of stone and mortar rained down on them. "This place is falling apart we need a way out of here. Ralof head up and take a look." He ordered and tucked his axe away and aided his wounded men.
Ralof nodded and climed the stairs, Zane followed simply so he had something to do. They found the stairs blocked but another man was already digging through the rubble.
"We can clear the way, help me move-" He was cut off when the wall was knocked it. The stones crushing him as the giant stuck it's snout into the hole. Zane met it's eye, blazing red and full of hate. He dived and felt his back be burned from the heat of the flames.
Ralof shielded his face from the heat and backpeddled to the stairs. The dragon roared again and pushed off the tower, the structure buckling under the force. The two carefully look out the hole. In the few moments they had been in the tower, pandemonium had decended on Helgen.
"Look there." Ralof pointed to a house just below them, a gaping hole burned into the roof. "If you can make that jump you should, we'll need to carry our wounded out."
"I can make it. Good luck Ralof, I hope we meet again."
"You as well." The Nord turned back down the stairs as Zane took a few steps back. He ran and jumped, rolling with the fall. He jumped to the ground and rammed the door down, he was met by the soilder who had taken his name and an old man using the burning buildings as cover.
"Come on boy!" The legionary yelled. Looking up Zane saw a young boy was crouched over a man that hadn't quite escaped a blast, his lower body black and charred.
They spoke, how the man managed to form words despite his atrocious injuries was a question for the gods themselves. He managed to make the boy run to the soilder. As the dragon landed and breathed deep the boy turned the corner and the soilder pulled him back from the path. A wall of flame engulfed the street.
The soilder placed the stunned boy with the old man.
"Watch him. Prisoner, with me!" He yelled and started off, the wing beats overhead fading slightly.
"Gods guide you Hadvar." The old man said and pulled the boy to a nearby house.
Zane ran after him. They jumped into the smoldering ruins of a tavern and quickly threw themselves against the still standing wall as the dragon landed right on top of them. It's flaming roar deafening them and it's wings nearly knocking them over just from the wind they produced.
They ran through the flames and saw Tullius mounting a defense while the village evacuated.
"Ballista time your shots, and where in Oblivian are those battlemages!" He yelled and loosed an arrow from the bow he'd taken.
Plenty of the arrows, bolts, and javelin fired at it struck but none had pierced it's scales, or found a gap in it's armor.
A soilder with a bandage over his eye ran to Tullius. "Sir the evacuation is nearly complete. Please sir, fall back. If necessary we will hold the beast back." He all but fell to his knees and begged the man to retreat.
"Not until every man, woman, and child are gone," he replied and fired at the swooping beast. He spun to find more arrows and caught sight of Hadvar. "Legionary, head to the keep!" He ordered and picked up a quiver from a fallen archer.
Hadvar pulls Zane along, dodging flaming rocks and crumbling stone the whole way. As they approached the garrison quarters someone came running through the collapsed wall.
'Ralof! He survived.' Zane noted with some suprise. He was sure the blond Nord was done for when he chose to stay in the tower.
"Ralof, what are you doing?" Hadvar said and readied his blade incase Ralof attacked.
"We're escaping Hadvar, your not stopping us this time." He declared and raised his axe.
The two likely would have come to blows if not for the dragon passing overhead.
Hadvar snarled. "Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengard." He said and ran to the barracks.
Ralof took off for the keep farther down, and Zane halted and thought of which to follow.
Ralof had show himself an honorable man, he could have easily left Zane to the mercy of the dragon.
But loyalty is not so easily lost. Even if he had been arrested, and nearly executed, under false charges he was still a citizen, and at one point soilder, of the Empire.
Before he could make up his mind, the choice was taken from his hands. An earth rattling thud shook him and made him stumble.
Spinning around his eyes widened to see he was near enough to the dragon to feel the heat of it's breath. It raised it's head and roared before turning it's entire body and smashed it tail into his chest, sending him fly and knocking him out.
When he came to he noted that his chest hurt far less than it should have.
'Oblivian I'm amazed I can still breath.' He thought and rubbed his still sore chest.
He was propped against a wall in the keep. Hadvar was dragging a bed infront of the door, where he'd already placed a cabinet.
The man leaned on his knees and caught his breath. He straightened up and saw Zane awake.
"Thank Shor. I was worried the potion wouldn't be potent enough for as grave as your wound was." He was clearly relieved that Zane had survived.
Zane tried to stand but immediately fell again, clutching his chest and coughing.
Hadvar cringed and helped him up. "Mabye it wasn't quite strong enough." He mused and steadied Zane.
Zane finished his fit and tried to stretch some of the soreness away, then he realized his hands were still bound. 'Oh come on, really?' He thought, thoroughly annoyed with being bound. "Hey, Hadvar was it? Suppose you could cut me loose, let me defend myself?"
"Ah, of course." He grabbed Zane's dagger from the table and pulled the folded eboy blade free. The rippling patten on the blade was rare, and marked it a rare treasure. It sliced the ropes like warm butter. Zanes first act was ripping the anti-magic collar from his neck.
He sheathed the blade and handed it to Zane. "A fine weapon. But perhaps short on reach. I fear that most of the soilders will not be returning, look for any arms and armor. I need to check these burns." He points to his left side and sure enough, most of his side was bright red and had a few blisters.
As Hadvar took a seat Zane poked around. The small armory in the barracks had been mostly cleaned out, likely during the initial attack. He found only a standard Imperial short sword.
A few of the chests had bits of armor, a pair of bracers, some boots with leather shin armor. Not much but more than he had before.
Hadvar looked better, having downed his last healing potion and gently using cool water on his burns.
'I haven't done this in awhile, and I may regret it, but I owe him.' Zane nodded and flexed his hand, a glowing ribbon enveloping Hadvar.
"Wha- By Kynareth your a healer?" Hadvar exclaimed with a smile. He sighed as his skin returned to it's natural color.
"I know healing magic but I'm no dedicated healer. Just something I picked up." He explained and pulled Hadvar up.
"Either way it helped me. Thank you." He patted the younger man on the shoulder and started off deeper into the keep. A short distance away they head voices ahead.
"C'mon we need to go. The rest may well have left us by now." An annoyed and impatient female voice with a northern accent was heard.
"Another moment, I haven't slept in days and these burns are bad." An exhausted male voice ground out, the same accent identifiable.
Hadvar raised a hand and they stopped. He carefully peaked through the gate. "A pair of Stormcloaks. We're all tired and that dragon doesn't care what color we wear. Mabye this doesn't need to end in violence." He pulled the chain and the gate rise up.
'In hindsight.' Zane thought too late and placed a hand on his sword. 'Perhaps the one in full Imperial armor shouldn't have approached the already nervous rebels first.'
Hadvar walked in with his hands raised. "Hold on an-" Before he could finish the woman hand picked up her battleaxe and swung at his neck.
The man raised his hammer and swung down. Hadvar sidestepped the attack and kicked the man and drew his sword.
Zane drew his and blocked the slash the woman aimed at Hadvar's back. He locked her axe and pushed her. As she stumbled he slashed across her chest. The mail under her furs saved her but he had first blood.
She spun around and swung upwards, a powerful blow that he deflected and left her open for counterattack. He slashed her shoulder down to her chest. She dropped her weapon and he stabbed her through the gut.
He pushed her off and checked on Hadvar. He had cut the man's leg and stabbed down into their neck.
He swiped the blood from his blade and patted the dead rebel down. He found a few coppers, a necklace, and a section of a local map.
Exiting the room the went deeper into the keep. They saw a group fighting, and Zane thought he may have spotted Ulfric's armor in the mass. But before they could intervene another impact shook the keep, part of the ceiling collapsed and blocked the hall.
"Go through here, storeroom." Hadvar pointed to a door on the left. Entering the two carefully peered around the corner to see another pair of Stormcloaks poking around the room, one holding his bleeding side.
Zane turned to Hadvar. "Want to be diplomatic again?"
The Nord sighed and drew his sword. "I'd like to, but it's clear they will choose victory or Sovngarde. On your move." He raised his sword and readied himself.
Zane nodded and drew his sword. He stepped into the room and ran at the wounded one. He underestimated their speed. They whipped their great sword around and Zane rolled under the blow. He stood and turned only to immediately be put on the defensive.
Hadvar fared no better. His opponent swung his battleaxe in a wide arc and aimed to decapitate him. He ducked and their axe got stuck in the beam. Seeing his chance Hadvar stabbed the man in the gut, and quickly pulled his blade free and stabbed them upwards from under their arm.
Zane dodged but was kicked onto his back. His enemy raised their sword, and Zane saw their side. He punched the wound. The large man folded and a hand fell to his wound. Zane spun onto his side and kicked, the point of his boot going into the wound. They dropped their sword and cluched his now profusely bleeding side.
Zane rolled onto his feet, gabbing the sword as he did and swung down. The head rolled away and the body was still before it slowly fell over. Zane tossed the great sword away and retrieved his shortsword.
Hadvar walked up. "Should check around. Potions get left in here more often than not. Could be useful." The two dig through the room to come up with four healing potions, a pair of stamina potions, and a magika potion.
"Think that's all we're gonna find." Zane closed the crate he'd beeb looking in.
"I think your right. Only way to go now will take us down, suppose we get moving." Hadvar led the way out to a stairway.
They went deeper. As they decended a smell began permeating the air.
Zane covered his nose. 'Burning flesh.' He recalled and marched on.
The two walked into the torture chamber, three Stormcloaks attacking the torturer and his assistant. The old man was using lightning to keep the attackers at bay while his assistant kept any from getting around with a mace.
Zane and Hadvar cut two down, sliced through the back, and as the last turned to face him a torrent of lightning was fired at him.
He fell, twitching. The torturer calmly walked to the downed body and drew his dagger. He almost cheerfully slit the Stormcloak's throat and watched them bleed out.
He smirked and sheathed his dagger. "Appreciate the assistance, seems they weren't too happy about how I'd been treating their friend." He gestured to a body that had been all but crucified to the wall, hands nailed into the stone, his body covered in slashes, burns, and his legs and arms had clearly been smashed. Patches of charred flesh covered the corpse.
Hadvar looked repulsed but Zane simply looked away after a moment. That said the torturer himself worried him. From his time practicing telepathy he had gained a passive empathy. And he sensed a deep sadistic delight in the old man.
'I understand the necessity of interrogation. But it should never be performed by one who enjoys the act.' He turned his attention to the cage nearby. A dead mage lay within. Beside the body, a few silver coins, a book on destruction magic, and a potion.
Zane tuned out the other three and grabbed a pair of lockpicks from the table next to them. Simple iron hooks that were not in the best condition, one snapped before he got the lock.
He took everything in the cell, and stripped the mage of their robes. He stuffed them into the bag on the table and put the hood on. He gazed at the dead mage. A young Nord from the look of him. Likely killed simply because of the sadist incharge.
He didn't deserve to rot like this. Zane focused on producing an especially hot flame. And engulfed the body in white hot fire.
"May you feast and drink eternally in Shor's halls." He gave a brief prayer and walked out of the cage.
Hadvar gave him a small nod of respect. The old man crossed his arms and pouted like a child who'd had their toy taken away.
"They're content to test the strength of the keep against a dragon. We can't waste more time, come on." Hadvar led them to the cells. At the end it opened into a semi natural room, which a large hole and been knocked into revealing a cave behind the wall.
"Must be how those Stormcloaks got in." Hadvar mused.
They climbed through into the cave, which quickly opened up. Zane stopped when he heard voices.
"We need to find a way out, cleary something didn't go as planned."
"No! We follow our orders and hold here for when the jarl is freed."
Rounding the corner the two walked into a small cavern that was full of Stormcloaks.
The two arguing froze at the sight of them, both in Imperial armor, or pieces in Zanes case.
There were six in all. The two nearest drew weapons, a longsword and a maul respectively. Two were a level down on the cave floor with a spear and a longmace, and on the otherside of the room a pair of archers nocked arrows.
The arrows flew and the two doged, Hadvar fell down and was immediately attacked by the pair on the cave floor.
Zane drew his blade and slashed. His opponent had some skill and deflected and smoothly brought the hilt of his sword to Zane's chin. Reeling from the blow he only just doged the maul. He slashed thier leg and turned back to the swordsman.
He thrust the blade at Zane's chest and he used his sword to redirect the point into the wall. He staggered and Zane stabbed him in the back. He pulled the sword free but had his armed pinned to the wall, the maul smashing the steel, breaking his sword.
He kicked out and knocked them back and grabbed the dropped longsword.
'Mauls heavier than the sword, can't deflect. Need an opening.' He ducked as the man swung again, going nearly berserk. And that gave him his opening.
He rolled under another blow and swung as he stood, the steel blade going clean through the attacker's neck.
He nearly forgot about the archers but took cover behind a pillar just in time. The archers were firing one after another to give him as little an opening as possible to move.
He jumed and channeled his magic. Sparks began dancing between his fingertips. He raised his arm and fired a torrent of lightning at them. The closest caught the most and fell twitching. Zane noticed the liquid on the ground around them, and it's distinctive shimmer. He fired the lightning at the oil and it caught instantly.
They fell screaming, trying desperately to roll and put the fire out. He took pity on them and ended them quickly with a stab through each of their chests.
He looked down and saw that Hadvar had killed the warrior with the longmace, but the spearman had tripped him and was advancing on his prone form. Quickly dropping the sword Zane snatched one of the bows. He ripped a pair of arrows from the wall.
He pulled back as they raised the spear. He loosed. The arrow hit home in their side, straight out the otherside. They fell and Hadvar staggered up, rubbing his head where he'd been hit.
Zane took a quiver for his bow and decided to keep the longsword for now.
"My thanks for the assistance. These caves must lead out somewhere, let's follow them." They went deeper still. The cave got more natural as they went to the point there was no carved stones at all.
They stopped at an incline. Ahead the entire room was covered in what looked like thick white silk.
"Frostbite spiders, must be. Didn't know we had'em this close to town." Hadav looked around the room. "You any good with that bow?"
Zane pulled out three arrows and held them in his draw hand. "I was was a ranger Hadvar, I can hit them." He promised and readied the bow.
Hadvar nodded and walked in, attempting to bait the trio of dog sized spiders closer to the cave opening so Zane could get a clear shot.
Zane fired and before the first arrow hit home, the others were already flying. The longbow took more strength to pull back than his but it would work for now.
Before either could relax two more spun a line from a burrow in the ceiling, far larger than the others. Hadvar quickly backpeddled as Zane pulled out more arrows and kept firing.
Hadvar raised his shield and braced himself against the weight of the spider as it tried to get him with it's fangs.
Four arrows fired in a blink ended the first but when Zane turned to the other he didn't have a shot around Hadvar.
"Hadvar, push!" He yelled and took aim.
Hadvar planted his feet and pushed up as hard as he could. The large arachnid was sent reeling on it's hind legs. And three arrows buried themselves in it's softer underbelly.
Hadvar breathed deeply. "I seem to be thanking you alot today friend." He thanked Zane and tried to wipe some of the gelatinous like blood from his armor.
The two continued through the cave. They came into the largest opening yet. A small stream they'd followed led them in, and at the back of the chamber was a sleeping bear. Deciding they'd had enough combat for one day the two kept their distance and finally saw daylight.
Hadvar took a deep breath. "Never thought I'd miss the smell of the air so much."
Zane sat on a rock and caught his breath, the adrenaline of the entire encounter draining leaving him winded.
The roar echoing in the air sent them both to their feet, frantically scanning the sky for the beast that had razed Helgen.
And sure enough it went flying over them, fading into a black dot.
The two watched it fly, holding their breath, sure that any moment it was going to turn around and come at them.
Slowly easing the tension from his bow Zane took a deep breath as the dragon vanished from veiw.
He looked out at the untamed wilds. Hadvar patted his shoulder.
"Suppose it's only right someone should greet you. Welcome to Skyrim." He greeted Zane to his homeland with pride in his voice.