Richard's head throbbed as he felt a breeze on him, although he wasn't moving himself. Creaking and murmuring were the only things he could hear, although the concept of him opening his eyes felt hard. Whatever happened to him, it wasn't gentle by any means.

"Hey, hey you!" Richard squeezed his eyes shut before opening them by a sliver. The sun was too bright for him to open them right away, the tiny section of his vision focusing. Slowly but surely, his eyes adjusted by little slivers until he had them about halfway open. His head pains were not getting any better through the process. He saw two people looking at him: Both Nords but entirely different in every other way.

The one to the left looked rather burly, his linen and chained blue layered chest showing the extent of his muscles. His leather and fur pants were unremarkable, only showing wear over time. His skin was tanned with a light red color alongside it. The color of his skin clashed with the bright blonde hair on the Nords head. It was unkempt, not all too surprising, and had braids in random places with the length reaching a little past his shoulders. His eyes were jumping from Richard to someone beside him, who he wasn't going to turn to look at yet, and the driver of the carriage, his expression only being one of anger.

The Nord to the right was much less muscular, having some muscle mass to be expected of the natural hardy race. His self was much less taken care in every regard. His skin was dirty and had dirt in places. His clothing looked to be completely ruined, only being enough to not be considered naked. It wasn't going to be protection from any weather or damage, except for days of high heat, which didn't happen in Skyrim. His brown hair was basically matted onto his head, no care given to the condition. He was definitely staring at Richard.

"Finally awake. Guards sure worked you over." It was the Nord on the right that was talking. He a raspy voice, not an impressionable voice meant for public speaking.

"I told those Imperial soldiers you weren't with us, but they just grabbed you like that thief over there. You stand with us or you stand against us. We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." It was the left Nord's time to speak, having a more traditional dialect and tone. The right Nord was a thief, which means the two had talked at some point or knew each other in some way.

"Shut up back there!" The driver, most likely an Imperial, was speaking to the two chatting behind him. Richard moved his head to the left to see what things looked like around him. The first thing that jumped at him was that a second cart, or rather the first of the two, had prisoners as well. It was impossible to tell anything about them from the distance. Richard had progressively opened his eyes the rest of the way at this point, letting him see more of what was around them. The scenery had the carts being surrounded by trees off the path to the front and a little turn showed a tall rock wall to his back.

"Wait, who's that gagged fellow in the cart? He looks familiar." Richard turned back to the thief to listen, following his gaze to see the man he was speaking of. There was indeed a gagged man and rather imposing sitting beside him. His look was leagues higher than the other two, donning a fine, fur cloak that covered his shoulders. The rest of his outfit was rather extensive with different designs on the chest and legs, but it could basically be boiled down to 'royal armor'. Whoever he was, he was special. Surprisingly, the rest of him was not as extravagant. He had a similar style to the unnamed Nord, the color being a lot darker but still blonde, and the two shared full, trimmed facial hair.

"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." My head worked to figure out if the name meant anything, and it certainly did. Although it held no regard in High Rock, there was talk among the population about Ulfric Stormcloak and some kind of rebellion in Skyrim. There was no way that a man like that could be so plainly captured and being transported nonchalantly without a proper escort.

"That's the man who used the voice to murder High King Toryyg? The leader of the rebellion? Hey, you! Ulfric! You traitor! You're the reason we're here!" The thief was clearly angry, his voice rising despite the one he was speaking to being directly across from him a foot away. If it were possible, the thief would probably start a fight rather than just yell. That was currently impossible with the situation that he would be cut down before getting more than one hit out.

"At least Sovngarde will be waiting for us. Our ancestors. Feasting. Mead." The thief and Richard turned to the unnamed Nord, who was much more composed in this situation. Richard could feel his body getting restless, if only because he had absolutely no idea what was happening. The other three seemed to have some idea of what was happening and what led to this predicament.

"Gods, what I wouldn't give for some mead right now…" Richard couldn't get a word in with the two Nords seemingly either throwing words at each other or in their own verbal thoughts. The only one that I could probably speak to, who was gagged but still silent underneath it without a sound being made, was Ulfric. That man made him lean away, as when he looked at the well-dressed man, he was staring intently at Richard with unbroken eye contact. "What brings you into the cold grip of the Empire anyway? I know you're not one of the rebels." Richard was not listening, rather his attention completely stuck on why Ulfric was staring at him. The thief tapped Richard on the shoulder, breaking him from his trance.

"What?" It was the first word Richard said so far, his voice a little hoarse. It had been a little while since he had something to drink. He broke the stare he was meeting with Ulfric.

"What are you doing here? You aren't a rebel, I assume." Richard carefully chose his words, not wanting to divulge too much. He didn't have much to hide, as he wasn't some political spy or anything of the sort, but he didn't want to give anyone else information on who his friends were. He didn't know where Torbin went off to, as he and Richard split before they crossed into Skyrim onto different paths. On that thought, he turned his head to the other cart to notice that all ones bound in it were wearing the same clothing as the racially proud Nord. None matched Torbin's physique, either.

"I came here to look for someone very close to me. I don't know if they are here, but I simply planned on looking for them and move on." It was not a lie at all, only keeping the names out of his answer. In fact, the search went from finding Erica only to both Erica and Torbin.

"I see. Well, this probably didn't get to be part of the plan. Hopefully we can get out without any problems." It seemed to suffice for the curious thief. If he was trying to be a real thief, which was doubtful from his predicament, he had a lot to learn.

"What hold are you from, horse thief? Whiterun? The Reach? Haafingar?" Richard wasn't vey familiar with the province of Skyrim, only knowing the bulk of High Rock. These places were unfamiliar, except for Whiterun. He did know it as one of the most important cities in the province.

"Why do you care?" The contempt the thief had for everyone, but Richard was clear. He had venom in his voice when he spoke to either of the other Nords.

"Because there won't be any holds once the Empire has it's way. No Jarls to rule over them. Just Legion soldiers and martial law. Every man, woman and child in Skyrim is part of this rebellion, horse thief. Everyone has to fight for the freedom of the nine holds." Richard felt a twinge of disgust coming from him when the clear Nord Loyalist finished. He felt like the Nord was overreaching in his speech with who was part of this political fight. From Richard's experience, the only ones that cared and needed to when it came to problems regarding the province were the few highest in power and everyone else would rather live their lives. Richard disagreed with the outspoken Nords words.

"'Freedom of the nine holds'? I don't remember the Empire sweeping up every cutpurse in Skyrim before you bastards started butchering their soldiers." The cold seemed to be getting lighter, and it was obvious why.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" A male with a tone that fit someone who wasn't native to Skyrim spoke over the bumping of the wheels against the stone path. Both carts were heading to a town that had a stone wall and wooden gate topped by a covered walkway. This was…unusual to say the least. Richard's mine started going into overdrive on what he had to do to get out, as he knew what was happening. A headsman was only called when a specific event was being carried out: Execution.

"Good. Let's get this over with." Another unknown voice, probably the one that was being called Tullius, returned with confirmation. No voices that spoke other than the thief and loyalist could be put with a face so far.

"Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governer. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves. I bet they had something to do with this." The still unnamed Nord turned his head to stare in the direction of the voices, two people a distance away but were much more important than the others. There was at least a human and he was mounted on a well-groomed horse. The other was a person equipped in a full set of Elven armor and the two stood side to side. From Richard's knowledge of present events and the information he and Torbin overheard while traveling made the situation clear. He couldn't see the other person very well, but a light voice confirmed his suspicion. The male was probably General Tullius and the other was a female Altmer. It was only when the cart got closer that he got any information on what the two were speaking of, as well as a first look at the two.

"I'm sorry, that's just not possible. It would cause far too many problems." General Tullius looked to be in much more durable armor than any other soldier, no doubt on the same level as what Ulfric was equipped with. He was balding on the top of his head, so he was no stranger to these kinds of situations with how old he probably was. His voice seemed a little low in volume as well, although it could be that he was purposely keeping it soft so that he didn't strain it. A commander did not want to lose his voice, no matter what. His eyes seemed glued on the moving carts, whether it was to keep the prisoners under more watch or to have an excuse to avert his gaze from the Altmer.

"You're making a terrible mistake. Your Emperor will hear of this! By the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, I operate with full Imperial Authority." The Altmer was speaking much more threateningly, her voice stern and unwavering. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to shake Tullius like she was probably hoping. She was, of course, the one equipped with a full set of armor of her race. It was to be assumed she was either an ambassador or a head of the Thalmor, although the latter seemed odd with it being out of the reach of Summerset Isle.

"Ugh, Thalmor bitch!" The outspoken Nord said it with no hesitation, even when they were close enough that hearing could reach Elf ears. His gaze softened from a glare to a wondering scan when they were passing by what Richard only now got to looking at.

"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. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." This place, Helgen, didn't look to be anything like the places Richard had visited thus far. Before now, the smaller towns like this would be completely open and only utilize walls if it had significands. It did have a few tall, stone towers that were probably used for defense, although they seemed out of place with houses built along the main road that snaked through the center of the area. The houses looked competently built with solid wooden framing but seemed to have little resistance against the cold that chilled the air. The only thing that could be considered protection was the material that layered the top to keep snow and moisture off, most likely. It was possible that wherever they were, it was near the southern edge of the province. It wouldn't be unheard of for some races to utilize town space for territorial defenses. The natural décor was also lacking, sparse in most places save for a couple trees and berry bushes. It really did put off the image of a once peaceful settlement that got morphed to utilize military members.

"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" A voice came from behind Richard, who turned enough to see who was speaking. It was a boy, probably part of a family that lived here. His interest in what was about to happen, which Richard only knew now because of the fact he heard who was involved, was worrying.

"You need to go inside, little cub." The father had the right idea, getting him away. Still, the child was not wanting to go.

"Why? I want to watch the soldiers." It was a shred of relief that maybe he just aspired to be a soldier rather than something worse. It wasn't satisfying enough, though.

"Inside the house. Now." The cart was slowing as it turned the corner to prove what was thought before. This was an execution.

"Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" A commanding voice, female as well, threw out orders. She must have been the captain in charge of this monstrous event.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief was fidgeting in his seat, looking at what was around him as well. It was possible he had a thought to escape but was also expecting more time.

"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." The cart came to a stop facing a wall and the outspoken Nord answered bluntly. He knew what was going to happen, and he either accepted it or had an idea of his own. Unfortunately, the thief was still ready to protest.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels! You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief." The thief was able to finish his statement despite the rebel speaking, if only because the thief was at a much louder volume to try and reason. Richard wanted to protest as well, as the thief was correct. It was clear the only ones in the cart that had any guilt with the current day problems were the outspoken Nord and Ulfric. Still, there wasn't any escape that could be done without getting killed instantly and the Imperials were not going to let anyone leave, no matter the argument. They were an impossible race to argue with or convince, even the merchants of High Rock didn't try to get much from them.

"Shut up! Out of the cart, now!" It was an order that couldn't be ignored and the four had started their final steps in their remaining life. Richard was still thinking through different ways to get out, although none of his training included being wrongly captured and evading after escaping. "Step towards the block when we call your name. Don't even think about running." It didn't need to be said and only gave more attention to the archers posed along the path, all having different angles of attack.

"Empire loves their damn lists." An exasperated sigh came from the rebel soldier, showing that it was possible he was finally accepting his fate. Doubtful but possible. This was when the polished looking Imperial, surprisingly not in any special outfit, started said list.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm. Guilty of murder, high treason and sentenced to death." Silently with the gag still over his mouth, Ulfric walked in front of the group to where the executioner was waiting. Richard had a chance to follow the man to see that there was a robed woman there as well. There was no discernable reason why she was present, unless it was for some kind of spiritual portion. As expected, more soldiers were ready and watching, as well as Tullius from before. The unnamed Altmer was gone, probably since she was denied whatever request she asked.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" The rebel valiantly spoke, hardly quiet and his eyes followed, and his stance solidified again. Whatever doubt or realization he had before was gone to the unshakable posture and attitude from before.

"Next in line." The Imperial listing asked for someone rather than speaking a name and instead of the horse thief, the rebel stepped forward. Only Ulfric was important enough to get his name spoken, apparently. "Name?"

"Ralof. Proud son of Skyrim." The rebel was finally given a name. The now labeled Ralof stepped towards where Ulfric was standing without glancing at any of the Imperials. Whether he gave the adjective 'proud' to himself or earned it, it was more than obvious and true. The other cart's group was thinning, although they were all much quitter and looked to be not much more than typical soldiers for this rebellion.

"Stormcloak. Sentenced to death." Expected that this was going to be everyone's decision, even Richard's.

"Next in line." The thief stepped up a little closer, although was stopped by the captain's hand moving to her blade. "Name?"

"Lokir and I'm not a Stormcloak." Richard still didn't know if that was entirely true or not, but it was about to be obvious personal choice made no difference.

"It says right here you are. Sorry."

"No, please! All I did was steal a horse! I'm NOT a rebel! You can't do this!" The thief, Lokir, did something Richard wasn't expecting him to so boldly do. He made a made dash beside the soldiers towards where the carts entered, still bound but sprinting.

"Archers!" By the captain's orders, the archers were more than ready and let an arrow fly from each. No matter how close or far away, the horse thief was shot deep by each projectile. His life ended and his body became a ragdoll, falling face first into the hard, stone path. "Anyone else feel like running?" It was less of a statement, more of a challenge. She wanted someone to try and escape for either amusement or less clean-up. Richard wanted to get out, but he had the choice of either a death now by arrow or soon by beheading.

"Next in line." Richard was the only one remaining from the cart. The other carts members were cleared out too, so he was the last one entirely. Richard took but a step, his face expression changing to a look of disgust. "Name?" Richard finally had to talk, although it wasn't to exchange pleasantries.

"Richard. You fools grabbed me when you shouldn't have in my travels from High Rock. I have no part in this provinces problems."

"You from Daggerfall, Breton? Fleeing from some court intrigue?" The assumption made by the low ranked soldier was far from his reason, but he wasn't going to admit it.

"No, neither of those are true. My reasons and origin are my own to know, not yours." At the very least, he would keep his friends from suffering a similar fate.

"Hmph. Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list." It was a surprise to see that the soldier cared, especially since he didn't care at all for the others. Then again, there might be some personal grudge. Richard knew nothing about these Imperials other than their race. That didn't give him any leeway with getting his compassion or respect, though.

"Forget the list. She goes to the block." This captain, on the other hand, absolutely infuriated Richard. She either was a deathly loyal Imperial, like Ralof from how he talked, or she had no idea how to be understanding in the slightest.

"By your orders, captain. We'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock. Follow the captain, prisoner."

"No one is going to claim my dead body, Imperial." Richard had all eyes on him, more importantly the archers had their targets aimed on Richard. They were more than ready to draw an arrow at the first sign of retaliation.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. Please go." Richard had no choice without any way of defending himself, taking his place in the crowd beside some unnamed soldiers, with Ulfric in front of General Tullius, still gagged, and Ralof close behind him.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." It was a bold speech to a person bound and gagged. To Richard, Tullius lost all his meaning in the speech. Nonetheless, some of the citizens who supported the Empire's decision cheered.

"This is barbaric. They can't think killing one guy will-" A very loud and sudden roar interrupted Richard's personal retaliation to the General. His own eyes, as well as a fair number of other others, immediately snapped to the sky after the roar. It was silent until then, nothing more than people playing with their dominance.

"What was that?" The Imperial who was reading names before questioned the ones around him for an answer, only to get shot down by the General.

"It's nothing. Carry on." It was obvious: This was not nothing. That sound came from something big, definitely not a typical wild animal. Even a Deadra would have trouble getting to that level. The point was driven home more as the archers had their bows drawn but were not pointing them. They had no vision on anything in the area, which means this was not something that was close. Its displeasure carried from where it was clearly to the Helgen.

"Yes, General Tullius. Give them their last rites." The obedient Imperial did as was instructed, keeping the execution going forward even as his eyes were constantly scanning the area.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-" The robed woman began her speech, showing her only reason for being present. She was some kind of Priestess who was doing some spiritual process. She was cut off by a Stormcloak soldier walking forward to the chopping block. He was one that was in the other cart, so Richard had no idea who he was.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!"

"As you wish." The Priestess stepped back; her job being done with the forced interruption. The Stormcloak who was impatient was pushed by the Captain to his knees, where her foot pushed him the rest of the way until his neck was at the farther edge of the chopping block. A basket was below the soldier's head, its purpose clear as the day.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" It was seconds later the axe came down, detaching the soldiers head from his body. Blood shot from the wound, keeping the basket and the surrounding area of it anything but neat. Richard wasn't new to death, as he did kill something before, but this was entirely different. He killed a vampire out of defense and anger, and it didn't have a body left after to see. The sight of the beheaded soldier made him both double his efforts of escaping as well as come to the reality that this wasn't something he could just walk away from. The crowd had a mixed response, although the appropriate people were on their respective sides.

"Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" Both were from different onlookers, as well as some people simply cheering. The opposite came from captives, of course.

"You Imperial bastards!"

"Monsters." It fell on deaf ears, especially since the ones that were protesting were the ones that would not have another day in their life. Helgen was a place that the Imperials had control of, and this practice was celebrated.

"Next, the Breton!" Richard's eyes were wide, and he took a step back. He had to get away, he had to find a chance to leave without being cut down before. He was formulating something, not really anything that could be considered a plan, when something familiar carried through the air. All eyes went skyward as a roar, the same one from before, was bellowed again from somewhere. Even the Captain this time looked to see if she could locate the monster that was causing the distraction.

"There it is again; did you hear that?" The Imperial with the list continued to scan, and it was too late that Richard realized he missed the last chance he had at escaping.

"I SAID, next prisoner." The Captain had already finished caring about the sound. She gave her attention back to the execution. Everyone had a little worry that lingered on their faces, but the Richard was motioned for to step up.

"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." The Imperials couldn't be beaten by words and Richard had to accept his fate. He wasn't about to, but he didn't want to ruin what little chance he had before his last minute. With trepidation, Richard was pushed into the same position as the soldier before him. The head was still in the basket, surprisingly with a defiant look on the still face, and the body rested beside where Richard was kneeling.

'I need more time. I need more time!' Richard's head was spinning, and his eyes were darting for anything around him. The motions of his desperation stopped when something that not even the Gods could predict happened. A third roar came from somewhere, only this time it was evident what it was, and it was absolutely terrifying.

"What in Oblivion is that?!" A yell came from General Tullius and Richard could barely see something coming towards the little settlement. His eyes were stuck on its movements.

"Sentries! What do you see?" With Tullius making a fuss, the Captain finally put all her attention away from the execution and tried to get a grasp on the situation she had fervently ignored until now.

"It's in the clouds!" It was there but gaining quickly and would reach the settlement in seconds.

"Dragon!" It was a beast of legend, ones that were the closest things to Gods in a mortal's eyes. The beast had been the one making the roars and it had arrived with an entrance that would shake the nerves of anyone present. Richard had one of the best and most dangerous seats, being not but a dozen feet from the monster. If it wanted anyone dead, it would. Curiously, it was only imposing its dominance while the mortals below it scrambled in pure fear.

The legendary monster was truly imposing, more than anything that had been encountered by Richard yet. Even the vampire that he had slain before his quest started was nothing like this monster. It was easily bigger than just about any other animal, if it could even be in the same category as them and was nothing like what he had known about them before. The wingspan when it landed down made it obvious that not even the tower was even near enough for it to be comfortably perched, proved as it gripped to hold rather than just letting itself rest. He knew the ferocity and fright these beings instilled to any normal person. Its body was clearly made for flight in shape but had spikes protruding from its outer later that all had an ash black color. Even the inside of the mouth was considered black in some shade. The only exception was its piercing, red eyes that looked around its dining area, stopping on Richard multiple times. The dragon had hooks part of the way down the wings that let it easily grip on the tower, digging into the material that made up its outer surface with ease.

"By the Gods, a dragon! How?!" "A dragon? It's a dragon! Gods help us!" "It's the end times! The end times have come!" The citizens were far from organized, running to any kind of cover they could find. Some went into their homes while others went completely away from the settlement.

The dragon lifted its head and opened its maw. A wave of force exited into the air, dark and swirling clouds forming surprisingly low. It seemed more like smoke than any natural cloud formation. There were no visible rays of sunlight penetrating the smoke, forming something like a dome surrounding the settlement.

"Don't just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety and get the battlemages out here! Now!" General Tullius was showing his position, throwing out commands to the soldiers that were either frozen or scattering. Some followed the commands instantly, others had to regain their composure before starting to fight. Tullius was clearly the one in charge, as all the soldiers under him did end up starting to attack the beast. From the looks of things, though, the black scales and protruding spikes didn't let any weapons through at the start. It stayed where it was, opening its maw again.

"Fus-" Richard seen the wave leave the dragons mouth once again, as well as hearing a sound. It was the volume of a whisper to him, a small word from the dragon a moment before the attack came. In the next instant, Richard was pushed off the ground and away from the beast. The monster didn't aim the attack at him, just putting it above him in the general area. It was forceful enough to push Richard to the ground.

"Gah!" Richard didn't try to get back up, instead racking his brain to figure out what was happening and what was going to happen. He wasn't trained to fight a dragon, only other humanoids. No, this was far beyond anything he could handle.

"Hey, Breton. Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" Richard was shaken from his stupor to see Ralof pulling at his curled body. He was unbound from his restraints with the assistant of a dead souls unused weapon.

"R-Right." Richard stepped up, pushing himself up the best he could to follow the rebel. The houses were already being destroyed, meteors coming from the clouded dome to hit whatever was in the area. Surprisingly, none of the towers looked to be in that bad of a shape due to their more durable material. Richard wasn't going to stay out to possibly be killed again, unsure how he escaped death of execution already.

Richard ended up inside a nearby tower with Ralof, Ulfric, and two Stormcloak soldiers. They must have been a couple of the ones being executed as well, since they carried no weapons. One was holding her stomach, a growing red stain on her chest piece while being barely cared for by another soldier that escaped execution. She got hit by something, maybe a careless sword or arrow. If the dragon or the storm hit her, she would be dead.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof probably already knew the answer to his questions, looking to Ulfric for more confirmation than anything.

"Legends don't burn down villages." The dragon continued the rampage outside, its unwavering. It was doubtful anyone would be able to bring the beast down. It would have to be forced away, the chances of that being just as low as anyone damaging it. "We need to move. Now!"

"We can't risk going back out there through the way we came. Up through the tower, let's go." Ralof gestured for the stairs leading up the tower in a circular fashion. The odds of the soldiers having to move before they were in danger was low, as nothing was seeming to damage the structure fatally. On the second level of the tower, the three led by Ralof and ending with Ulfric, saw another soldier attempting to find another way out. Rocks had collapsed from the opening of the tower, blocking their only other exit.

"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear t-" The soldier clearing, as well as the trio's advance to help, was cut short by a hole being bashed into the side of the tower. A flash of black and then the large maw was seen barely any distance from the soldier ahead. Everybody stopped moving, giving the soldier no time to escape what happened next.

"Yol-" Once again, Richard heard a word definitely not spoken by a mortal he heard to date. It was louder but not in the sense of volume. It was louder in that he heard it all around him, as if the voice was coming from every direction. The maw of the dragon opened again after a second and a huge spout of fire came from its mouth and absolutely incinerated the soldier. There was absolutely no way he was going to survive, his charred corpse being the only thing remaining when the beast retreated back to do more damage outside.

The three continued their ascent as far as possible, taking huge caution in case the dragon came back for another round of cooking mortals. Richard looked to the corpse on the ground, it being unidentifiable. Whoever it was, they not only instantly die but the dragon also had enough heat to mostly melt the armor, scraps remaining clinging onto the body.

"Don't stop, Breton. We can't mourn for the dead until we are safe." Ralof moved past Richard, who had slowed down by the sudden intrusion of the dragon and the recent death of the Stormcloak. It took a moment for Richard to react as well, the burning landscape of the battlefield showing the abilities of a dragon. "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow when we can!" Richard had no choice in the matter, especially with Ralof and Ulfric already most of the way down the steps again. He could follow, but that would be useless with the current situation. After all, jumping over a small gap was nothing like taking his chances with a dragon.

"Just get outside this place. I will be hidden until the beast is gone." Richard stepped a foot back, pushing off and getting what he could of a run and leap. He didn't have the best stance, hands still bound in the front, but he had more than enough to land a little more roughly on the partially demolished Inn he needed to get to. "Ugh!" Richard felt his foot hurt a little from the distance difference between the tower and the Inn, only stopping him for a couple seconds. The floor was, as expected, not completely intact anymore and led to the outside yet again. The scene was less than wanted: a more elderly man wearing Imperial armor was behind the remains of a house, a familiar list reading Imperial had his weapon unsheathed and looking at two more people, an injured citizen and a child.

"Haming, you need to get over here. Now!" The child was obviously not budging too much, that was until something terrifying changed the whole situation. Above the scene Richard was witnessing was the lowering body of the dragon. "Torolf!" The dragon slammed to the ground, looking over the scene from opposite Richard. The child was now frozen, the dragon staring at the form. The Imperial that was still standing reacted, pulling the child away quickly. When the two started off, the dragon pulled its neck back, but clearly not to leave. "Gods…everyone, get back!" The Imperial and child went behind the same building as the older man. Richard didn't wait to see what was going to happen, deciding to try and get a little bit out of attack. The injured man was left on the ground, curling up and resigning to his fate.

"Yol-" Richard heard the whisper again and a second later, the familiar sound and heat of a stream of fire hit the area. Most other sounds were drowned out during it, except for a couple rock clusters falling close by. The building did the job it needed, blocking the blast and decreasing a lot of the flame's heat. It was not until the flapping and ascent of the dragon was heard again that Richard peeked from his corner to look at what remained. The boy and the two men were still alive behind a collapsed building, better cover than one would expect in this situation, and the injured man was no more. He was a charred corpse like the Stormcloak soldier from earlier. Like the soldier, he took the full damage of the blast, flames and force.

"Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar." The older man, Gunnar, finally revealed the Imperial man who was reading the list.

"It's you and me, prisoner. Let's go, quickly!" Hadvar started moving away from the old man and the child. Richard wasn't sure if he should follow Hadvar, although the only other option was to stay put and be killed or possibly able to live with a distraction for the threat. With a moment of hesitation, Richard decided to move forward with the Imperial.

It wasn't long, less than a minute, the two made a right behind the houses that the beast showed up once again. If the road forward wasn't blocked by debris, it was possible they would be dead quickly. The dragon landed behind the wall Richard and Hadvar were moving besides, wing talons gripping the stone for support. The beast spouted fire to an unknown crowd, although it was no doubt that it hit one or more.

"Cut it." Richard spoke low to Hadvar, who did nothing. He looked at Richard, keeping his blade still until the dragon flew away again.

"I am not going to risk giving away our position just to possibly hurt it. It won't die from that. Don't think I am an idiot on strategies, Breton." Hadvar continued, Richard grimacing at the response. He hasn't fought a dragon before, he didn't know what it took. It was doubtful Hadvar did either, Richard assumed even now he was just afraid.

Out of the ruins of a house and in the open, battlemages and archers were throwing everything they could at the enemy. None seemed to be reaching, doubtful they would with the speed and defense of its body. It was not surprising to see that despite there being more soldiers in towers and other tactical points, it was rather bare now. Less than a dozen was trying to take the beast down and from what Richard observed, it had virtually no damage on it. The ruin it made was shown in almost every building and all across the environment.

"Ralof, you damned traitor. Out of my way!" Richard was too busy observing the battlefield to see that the two have reached a crossroad, or rather something similar with familiar people. Ralof and Hadvar carefully switched sides, putting a fair bit of distance between them at the same time while still ready to draw weapons on each other in a second.

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." The assumption was that Ralof was speaking of Richard as well.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar left the way Ralof came from, probably to see if there was any assistance he could give to the offensive. Unfortunately, the dragon was still on the rampage and no help was going to help at this point. The soldiers left were thinning.

"Breton, come on. Into the keep." Richard kept his eyes in the air while going to the large, reinforced doors.

"Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki." A voice, with more of the sound of a deep verbal growl than human speech, came from the air inhumanly clearly. Richard stopped and looked upwards, only to see the dragon perched on the top of a barely standing tower, staring at him. The two locked eyes and Richard knew he felt something ominous and dangerous.

"Move, Breton! I'm not going to wait for you all day!" Richard snapped back to reality to see Ralof had the door to the keep ajar. Richard wasn't about to lose the chance he had gotten, vision going back to the dragon who had continued its massacre to finish off who remained in the fight.

"Of course."