Once upon a time, in a land far far away,

There lived an ancient hero, born of a prophecy.

He awoke on a cart, bound for the town

of Helgen, where he was subject to be de-crowned.

On his way there, tied up in a wooden carriage,

There were 3 other men, who all looked discouraged.

And yet one spoke, with eyes of surprise,

"Hey you, you're finally awake", Ralof the Nord cried.

The hero glanced up in shock, someone else has awoke,

And stared blankly into his eyes, wait, is he a StormCloak?

Collecting his thoughts, Ralof continued,

"You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into an ambush."

The hero noticed the others in the cart, one muffled breathing, he could hear.

The other a horse thief, a Nord man named Lokir.

And so as the Stormcloaks and thief began to get in each other's hair,

The guard guiding the carriage exclaimed "Shut up back there."

Onwards they continued to meet their demise,

As the four prisoners sat quiet, only meeting each others eyes.

Until Ralof asked Lokir, trying to turn a new leaf,

"Hey, what Village are you from Horse Thief?"

Lokir retorted "Why should you care?" With quite the rude tone.

Ralof answered "A Nord's last thoughts, should be of home."

Lokir is of Rorikstead, and tried to flee for Hammerfell,

However, he got caught in a mess, as everyone could tell.

And as the group pulled up to the chopping block

They were checked off a list, time ticking like a clock.

And when the Hero was called up, his presence was made.

For when asked for it, he replied "Ysmir" was his name.