Prologue: Unbound

In the world of Skyrim, there were two factions in a civil war, the Empire and the Stormcloak rebellion. It was a world full of many different races. From the Nords and the feline Khajiits, to the many kinds of Elves, Orcs and the reptilian Argonians.

It also included many monsters. From giants, to vampires, werewolves to zombies, and drajors to Dragons. But there's one that all fear and revere above all others: the Dovahkiin, or the Dragonborn. Said to come when Skyrim needed them most, to save it from the dreaded Alduin, the World Eater.

Or at least, so the legends say…


-Imperial transport-

A man's eyes slowly opened as an imperial wagon was transporting prisoners that were captured during an ambush several months ago to an outpost for execution.

As he looked around to get a grip on his surroundings, he noticed that the people with him were also bound like himself. One was a nord man with long blonde hair and a blonde beard. Another man with brown hair was also there, and looked like a thief.

"Hey, finally awake?" The nord man questioned, making the figure look at him. "You were trying to cross the border right? Before you got jumped by that Imperial Ambush." He continued.

"I'm not even supposed to be here!" The thief complained.

"Damn Stormcloaks, If the imperials wouldn't have been looking for you, we'd be long gone by now." Another spat.

The figure remained silent as they continued talking, looking down at his hands which were still bound.

'If I could free my tail, I could get myself free in an instant. But they got it tied down. Damn.' He thought, before he heard someone mention Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!" The thief said in surprise. "But if they captured you… Oh no, where are we being taken?" He asked in worry.

"Does it really matter?" The unknown figure finally spoke, his voice coming out in a deep, hissing growl. Sounding almost reptilian.

"Huh, he does speak." The nord commented. "But he is correct. Sovngarde awaits." He added.

"Shut up back there!" The soldier driving the wagon called back.

"This-this can't be happening!" The thief said fearfully.

"Where are you two from?" The Nord questioned.

"What makes it your business?" Hissed the figure across from him.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The man stated.

"... Rorikstead." The thief replied nervously

"... I honestly can't remember. I've been a prisoner for so long I've forgotten what my home looks like." The figure replied after a moment with a sigh.

"Well, it won't matter now, Sovngarde awaits us." The man said as they entered an outpost. "The walls of the empire used to make me feel so safe. Now…" He mused.

"They're like a prison of their own, with chains and locks forged from blind loyalty and ignorance." The figure lamented with the same reptilian hiss as before, his clawed fists clenched.

"Right." The Nord nodded. After a few moments, they stopped.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked.

"End of the line. What else?" The figure deadpanned. As they were forced to step out of the wagon, the figure swatted the guard that untied his extra bound limb with his tail, which was strong and reptilian, covered in obsidian black scales that shone in the sunlight.

"Agh!" The guard grunted in surprise. A purple forked tongue flicked out of the figure's mouth as the list was called out, before he was told to step forward—the thief getting shot down by archers as well.

"And you, who are you?" An imperial soldier questioned. It was then that the figure could be fully seen. He was an Argonian. He was slightly taller than the man in front of him and was covered in obsidian scales that seemed to have a silver light to them in the current lighting. His head looked very dragon-like and he also had cone horns on his head reminiscent of a dragon's with pointed straight back. His eyes were a draconic green, his irises slitted. He was also rather muscular and strongly built, which made sense with the tail he was sporting.

"Time in your cursed prison has made me forget my true name." The Argonian stated. "But a kind person gave me a new name. I… Am Drago." He added.

"Are you a relative of one of the Riften dock workers, Drago?" The man questioned.

"I do not believe so." Drago replied.

"Captain, what do we do? He's not on the list." The same man asked, wondering what would be done now.

"Forget the list. He goes on the block." The captain, a woman in imperial armor, said uncaringly.

"By your orders, Captain." The man nodded. "I'm sorry, I'll be sure to have your remains brought back to Blackmarsh." He told Drago apologetically. "Follow the captain, prisoner."

The Argonian let out a hiss but did so, and was now with the other prisoners slated for execution. He looked around and saw who believed to be the General talking to Ulfric, but paid their conversation no mind. He then heard a strange noise that sounded like a bellow, which made him look up to the sky with everyone, but nobody could see where it came from.

"What was that?" One of the guards asked.

"It's nothing. Carry on." The general replied as he went off to the side. The captain then began to read the prisoners their last rights, when the same roar from before was heard again. But it was louder this time, closer.

Drago's tongue flicked out of his mouth as his tail fidgeted. He did not like the sound of that. Then he was called up to the block, and right as he was in position to get decapitated, the source of the noise revealed itself.

"What in Oblivion is this?!" A guard yelled. With a thunderous sound, a dragon landed on the top of a tower and roared, turning the sky yellow.

The sound shook the ground as everyone was sent flying back, buildings exploded and wagons were torn to splinters, the execution scene was now in utter chaos.

With a snarl, Drago got up and snapped himself free to his bindings, grabbing the now stupefied headman from behind and snapping his neck with his bare hands, grabbing and arming himself with the now ownerless battle axe.

"Drago, we can't stay here! Follow me!" The Nord called, getting his attention as he ushered the Argonian to follow him into a tower. Deciding that being in the open was suicide, he followed him into the building where Ulfric also was, apparently.

"Ulfric, is that what I think it is? Are the legends true?" The man questioned the stormcloak leader.

"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric said before he turned to the Argonian among them. "You there, Argonian, mind using that ax for something more practical?" He questioned, holding up his still bound hands.

"Say no more." Drago nodded as he cut his bindings. "Staying here feels ill advised. We need to leave." He stated.

"Aye, that much I can agree on." The nord nodded, rubbing his unbound wrists. The three quickly ran upstairs until the dragon suddenly slammed its head through the window and attempted to cook them before Drago slammed the butt of his ax in its eye, causing it to fly off.

Deciding to get the hell out of there before it could come back, the lizard man jumped out the gaping hole in the wall before landing in another destroyed building. He quickly ran out and spotted some guards and a little boy trying to take cover.

"Prisoner, if you're still alive follow me, if you want to stay that way!" A guard who he recalled that the captain called Hadvar, said as he waved Drago over.

"Right!" He called back as he made his way to him. As they dodged the dragon and the ensuing chaos, the stormcloaks caught Hadvar off guard and nearly killed him, but Drago quickly grabbed the man and hurled him a distance away. Not wanting to hurt the nord who'd been kind to him the whole way here.

"I'll kill you for that!" One of the other stormcloaks shouted only for his head to be taken off his shoulders by Drago.

"Thank you." Hadvar said as the lizard man helped him up.

"I only threw him out of fighting range, he'll come back for you if we don't move now." The obsidian scaled reptile stated.

"Let's move, then." Hadvar nodded as they kept moving. Soon they entered another building, and Drago chose to check the chests for anything useful. He did manage to find some armor and an iron sword in case he needed something better than the ax he currently had.

The two kept moving forward deeper into the fortress, when they heard two figures with Nordic accents speaking in the next room.

"We need to get moving! That Dragon is tearing up the whole keep!" A male voice exclaimed.

"Give me a minute would you? I'm out of breath." A female voice panted tiredly.

"Stormcloaks, be careful." Hadvar whispered.

"I have no quarrel with them. So I'll only wound them." The lizard man stated as he stowed his weapon and raised his fists. The two then barged in and the Stormcloaks retaliated, Drago sending a woman flying with a swing of his tail.

The male tried to attack him, but several jabs to the torso and an elbow strike to the throat took him out of commission, as he collapsed, unconscious. The obsidian colored Argonian tossed his body to his female comrade, who held her arms up in surrender.

"They won't bother us now. Take their weapons and let's go." The man told his imperial companion while swapping the imperial armored pants he had on for the Stormcloak ones off of a corpse.

"Fine." Hadvar said as they continued on, taking down more Stormcloaks and grabbing potions, and other commodes, Drago even grabbing a shield as well. As they ventured deeper into the structure, they heard the dragon roar again as the way ahead of them suddenly collapsed. "That dragon doesn't give up easy, does it?" He sighed.

"Apparently not." Drago nodded as they entered another room, that being the keep's torture chamber. The sight of this made the Argonian grip his weapon tightly, a wave of old and bad feelings returning to his subconscious. Conveniently, there were more Stormcloak for him to vent on. They were attacking the two torturers who ran it, but he didn't care right now.

He took them by surprise, disarming them and taking them down by knocking them out. They weren't dead, but they were definitely bruised by the agitated Argonian.

"We need to find a way out of here." Hadvar said as he looked around.

"You don't have any authority over me, boy." One of the torcherers stated snidely before he turned to Drago. "You look familiar, have we ever met before? It's difficult to remember who I torture these days, since there's so many." He added.

"Yes, as a matter a fact, we have!" Drago growled before he snapped the torturer's neck, killing him on the spot. He had more pressing matters than one of his old torturers right now.

The other two seemed wary of him due to this until Hadvar spoke up. "Try picking the lock, there could be something useful in there." He told him.

Drago nodded as he knelt down to pick the lock, managing to get it open quickly. He then took the shirt from the corpse inside and the hood, fitting the former under his armor chest plate to finally have something with sleeves.

He now had on black Stormcloak pants, brown imperial medium armor boots, a dark blue long sleeve shirt and light vest, and medium chest armor that was brown and covered in steel, and a dark blue cloak which he had the hood of down.

His Headmsn's ax was on his back along with his shield, he had a steel dagger strapped to the back of his waist, and lastly his iron sword was on his right hip.

"Not too bad. Might wanna lose the stormcloak colors, though." Hadvar commented.

"Eventually. It'll do for now." Drago said.

"Come on. There's a cave through here." The torturer's assistant beckoned as he proceeded further ahead. They soon approached what appeared to be catacombs and heard more voices, likely stormcloaks, ahead.

Deciding to go in armed this time, Drago drew his ax and charged towards the Stormcloaks, fighting and aiming to either maim or disarm them. In the fighting, however, the torturer's assistant was killed.

"All right, let's see if we can find our way out of here." The Nord said as he and Drago continued on into the cave. The Argonian grabbed a quiver of arrows, a Steel Great sword, and a good bit of gold from the battlefield.

As they continued on, the Dragon's roar echoed overhead and shook the cavern, causing a cave in and blocking the way back in, meaning they could only move forward.

"Not like we planned on backtracking anyway." Drago shrugged as they walked. His Imperial companion only nodded in agreement as they walked.

A trek and battle with spiders more, and they came to an opening that had a bear sleeping nearby. Luckily, it didn't seem to even notice them. They decided against looking a gift horse in the mouth and snuck by it without any problems.

As they reached the outside, Drago sighed heavily as he finally felt free air fill his lungs, he was finally a prisoner no more. Hadvar followed and they both saw the dragon fly past them.

"We shouldn't stay for it to come back." Hadvar told him. "Come on. The closest town from here is Riverwood, we should be able to seek refuge there." He continued as they kept walking.

"Right. I'll probably strike out on my own after I'm done there." Drago nodded. The two then started to head west, with Hadvar telling the lizard man about their surroundings as they went.

"Forgive me, but, I don't think I ever got your name." The Imperial soldier said as they walked along the path.

"My name is Drago. It's not my original name, but it suits me." The Argonian replied.

"Drago? How on earth did you come to get a name that simple?" The man questioned. The lone warrior took a moment to think before he recalled the day he actually got his new name.


(Flashback)

Drago was sitting in a dark cell carved out in a cave when a young male guard brought him food and water, passing it through the bars. This was the fourth time that day, usually he was only allowed two or the occasional third meal.

"It's okay, you know, it's not poisoned." The lad said. He was probably only about seventeen years old, ten years the Argonian's junior.

"Pardon my skepticism." The obsidian scaled lizard man said flatly. Cautiously he took a bite of the bread he was offered, then the cheese, and then the cooked venison. It didn't taste poisoned, thankfully. "... Why do you always bring me extra food? Don't the wardens order against that?" He questioned.

"They do, but in these outposts, we guards are allowed to run our blocks how we want." The boy replied, sitting down. "Besides, you don't seem like a criminal, so why should I treat you like one?" He added.

The torchlight between them illuminated his features and showed the reptile that he was a half elf, he had nord blonde hair and natural caramel skin with features that made him look like an attractive mix of the two races. Additionally his ears were only moderately pointed and he also had one blue and one green eye. It did explain why he had on elven gauntlets and had an elven short sword on him.

"... Thank you." The Argonian said after a moment.

"You're welcome." The half elf nodded. After a moment of silence while Drago ate his meal of bread, venison, vegetable soup, he spoke again. "I'm Myronthilar, by the way. Myronthilar Fernhollow. But my friends call me Myron. What's your name?" The wood elf halfbreed questioned.

Drago took a moment to swallow his food before speaking, drinking his water and wiping his mouth. "I can't remember my name. I haven't been able to for a long time." He stated.

"Oh… Sorry." The half breed apologized. "Well, I'm not good with Argonian names, but why don't I give you one." Myron said with a slight self deprecating chuckle.

This seemed to intrigue the Argonian, who prompted him to continue. "Alright, how about I call you Drago, you know, since you look like you could pass for a dragon?" He asked.

The lizard man thought about it for a moment, tapping his head thoughtfully and scratching his head scales. "Hmmm, Drago… Draaaago, Dragon…" He parroted, pronouncing the name in his own accent to see if he liked it. "It'll do." He shrugged.

Myron seemed to smile at this. "Well then, it's nice to meet you, Drago." He smiled as the two continued to enjoy each other's company.

(Flashback End)


As his thoughts ended while he looked over at some sort of ruins with Hadvar, Drago reached under his shirt and pulled out what looked like a wood talisman with a bit of silver on it shaped into the symbol of the wood elves.

"... A friend gave me the name." He said finally as Hadvar turned towards the ruins with him.

"I see. Anyway, see that ruin up there? That's Bleak Falls Barrow." The Imperial said, looking at the structure. "When I was a boy, that place would always give me nightmares. Draugr creeping down the mountain to climb through my window at night." He continued. "I'll admit, I still don't much like the look of it." He finished with a shiver.

"I may not remember much of my old home, but I do remember that it was in a swamp near that same Barrow. I'd much rather avoid it if possible." The lone wanderer noted as well before they continued onwards. After a short walk, they came across a trio of stones with carvings on them.

"These are the Guardian Stones, three of thirteen ancient stones that dot Skyrim's landscape." Hadvar said as they approached.

Drago looked at the three stones and stepped towards the warrior stone, touching it, which caused it to glow green and shoot something into the sky.

"Warrior, good! I knew you didn't belong on that cart the moment I saw you." Hadvar nodded. The wandering warrior looked at him and nodded before they continued on their way. "Listen, as far as I'm concerned, you've already earned your pardon." He told his companion. "But until we can get that confirmed by General Tallius, I'd steer clear of any trouble with imperial soldiers." He added.

"I wouldn't worry about that, after this, I'll be staying far away from anything regarding the empire or the Stormcloak rebellion." The man replied. "Neither side has made choosing them beneficial in my experience." He added.

"Fair enough, I suppose." The Imperial shrugged. "What'll you think you'll do first?" He asked.

"I haven't decided yet." The Argonian replied, before ominous howls broke through the air of their conversation. "Oh lovely. Wolves." He sighed as he drew his ax.

The two creatures barked as they attacked the two, but were easily dispatched when Hadvar stabbed one through the stomach and Drago waited for the creature to lunge before he brought his executioner's ax down on it.

The two then continued their trek to Riverwood with no further incidents. Upon arriving at the town, Drago looked around at the townsfolk before they arrived at the blacksmith.

"I'd like to sell this steel greataxe, iron short sword and iron ax." The Argonian said as he handed over the weapons, getting a fair amount of gold for it. "And how much would it be to upgrade these?" He asked, handing the smith his great sword and Headsman Ax.

"Hm… not much, judging by the quality of these. About six gold." The man replied as he took them. After paying the man, he also got a bit of clothing dye and left him to do his work.

(Later)

It was about half an hour later and Hadvar and Drago had just finished explaining to the man's uncle about what happened with the dragon at the keep. The Argonian ate the apple and cabbage soup, bread and blue cheese that the family offered him to eat while also drinking a rather simple blackberry, hopps and elderberry mead to drink.

"Thinking about making that errand to Whiterun?" Hadvar asked.

"I haven't decided yet. Once the dye on my clothes sets and my weapons are finished at the blacksmith, I'll most likely be heading out." Drago shrugged as he lay down on a free guest bed, his shirtless chest showing that his body was covered in scars all over his ashen grey underbelly. "I'll decide where I'm going after I leave." He added.

"I do hope you'll start with Whiterun first. Riverwood is lacking in troops right now." The Imperial said.

"I may pass the message along before moving on." He nodded before deciding to close his eyes for a while.


(The next day)

It was fifteen till noon the following day and Drago started to pull on his newly dyed clothes. His pants were now black with a silver belt, as well his now heavy imperial boots—with the metal plating being upgraded by the blacksmith to cover more area—his shirt was now a dark indigo color with silver sleeves, with black and silver Imperial heavy gauntlets, a now black and silver heavy imperial breastplate, and finally his magic infused cloak, which was now silver with a black interior.

The Argonian's tail swung behind him as he adjusted his newly upgraded gear on his back and waist. Which now consisted of his Steel Headman's Ax—which was now infused with frostbite Venom—his magic reflecting steel great sword which now also had a frostbite venom edge, and finally his heavy steel shield and frostbite venom steel dagger.

Taking a breath again, he looked at the talisman his old friend Myron gave him all those years ago, before he put it back under his shirt and walked out of Riverwood. His cloak blew in the wind behind him as he pulled his hood over his head.

And so begins, the story of the Lone Wandering Dragonborn…


Dragon Emperor0: It's been awhile since I've actually played the game Skyrim. Eleven years actually. But despite that, I always thought that the story of the main character in the game was the perfect set up for a story involving the Lone Wanderer/Traveler Loner archetype.

ThermalsniperN7: I have had little interactions with this game, and I can't even remember how many years ago it's been since I briefly played it. This is gonna be strange for me since I'll be referring to a playthrough.

Dragon Emperor0: We're basically in the same boat here, so I wouldn't worry too much. Also guys, just so you know, this story will be an episodic anthology series kind of like Musari Yojimbo, a Fist Full of Dollars or Samurai Jack for a while. But will grow into a more linear narrative over time. Just so you know what you're getting into. So if you have ideas for episode plots, let us know.

ThermalsniperN7: Yeah. Anyway, see you next time.