Chapter 3: Alduin

[17thof Last Seed 4E 201]

To my surprise I had actually found myself in the cart to Helgen and in the real Skyrim, and I had realized that this was not a dream, not at all. It appeared that I had actually had a vision, and Akatosh had somehow been able to get me transferred to a new world; not only that, but I occupied a rejuvenated and tall Khajiit body, too, like one of my favorite characters when I had played the game. Also like in the game, I now was in Helgen, together with Stormcloak prisoners and others, but it wasn't me being pushed to the block right when something was heard and seen in the sky, no, it was the petite young Bosmer lady who had been sitting between me and Jarl Ulfric in the cart.

The poor sobbing girl was pushed down to the block, and when the Imperials finally noticed that something was going to happen – nobody could have missed the load roar and the huge approaching shadow – and the Imperial officers started to ask questions like 'What is this up there in the clouds?', I felt tempted to provide a comment like 'Guess what? It could be the next scheduled airliner to the Imperial City, or a big helicopter with Navy Seals onboard, or a huge meteor to kill off all life on Nirn, or maybe a dragon?'. Right at that time – the headsman had already raised his huge axe and prepared to swing it down – the dragon emerged from the clouds and showed up for all to see, shouted something I failed to understand, started to conjure a meteor shower on the ground, and settled down on the next tower. The ground around us trembled and jolted, like from a major earthquake, and I was forced down on my knees for the moment. Wow – there simply was no comparison between a dragon image on a screen and a real one showing up. This huge black beast looked really powerful and intimidating; its body had the size of a medium helicopter, and if I had not known that he would not hurt me here in Helgen – or so I hoped at least – I probably would have wet my pants. Nonetheless, the imposing creature on the tower was a sight to behold.

The headsman was the dragon's first victim, and some of the soldiers were simply paralyzed by fear; a few of them even fainted, as it looked like. The others did not even attempt to fight the dragon at first, but mostly just stood there and gaped, until General Tullius shouted:

"Archers, battlemages, bring that beast down! Now!"

The captain added: "Don't just stand there! Kill that thing! Guards, get the townspeople to safety!"

As if they even had a chance! While some archers and mages actually tried to attack the dragon, nobody, neither Imperials nor Thalmor, paid attention to us prisoners any longer, and I saw Ulfric running towards the next watchtower. One of his followers had managed to get rid of the ropes binding his hands and grab a dagger, and Ulfric was free from his bounds a few seconds later; his first action was to pull off his gag. I also had a quick look at the female dark elf I had seen before, and I barely managed to see her running away quite quickly; she was gone in a few moments, apparently taking advantage of the situation with the Imperial archers being otherwise occupied.

The young wood elf on the block finally dared to raise her head and turned around to see what was going on. The huge black dragon looked directly at her, and when she likely noticed that this was a real dragon, she promptly fainted and slipped down to the ground next to the block. I could not really blame her for that; if I had not known what was to come, I might have passed out as well, or wet my pants, or both. I wondered for a moment if Alduin knew about her being Dragonborn already, assuming that my suspicion was correct, of course, and if he did, why he did not kill her right here and now.

There might be time to ponder this thought later on, though, as the dragon now looked at me, and I shivered. Time seemed to pass in slow motion, and while the big beast's eyes were focused on me, I was almost paralyzed, but when it rose again to blow fire on other parts of the town, I suddenly realized that I should probably focus more on escaping right now rather than admiring the dragon and the scenery. I made a major effort to overcome my anxiety and tentatively tried to pull my arms apart, and I found out that the ropes binding me were not very tight and strong. A few more attempts, now using my full strength, made them lose enough to drop them; at least I had my hands free now. I scooped up the girl in my arms and hurried into the watchtower Ulfric and some of his Stormcloaks had gone to, barely escaping the next few meteor rocks being hurled down outside.

Ralof and Ulfric were both in there, and I could see that the Jarl of Windhelm was a little bit concerned seeing me with my hands unbound. He had seen me in the cart with him, but he could of course not know what my intentions were. When I had dropped the girl carefully on some straw in a corner, the few Stormcloaks around me had their hands on the weapons they had somehow acquired, and they'd probably attack me if they noticed any wrong movement on my side. How could I make them understand that I was not their enemy? When I looked around, I saw that there were a couple of wounded Stormcloak soldiers on the ground, one male and one female, and they were both bleeding, the man worse than the woman according to my very unprofessional judgment. I assumed that none of the Nords here had any magical skills, and they probably did not have healing potions with them either, as they had just escaped. I closed my eyes for a moment and recalled that every player character could heal themselves at least at game start, but not others. But, could it be that hard? Would I be fully limited to the rules of the game? Would I even be able to cast magic just like this?

Very slowly and deliberately I knelt down next to the bleeding male soldier, raised my left hand, closed my eyes partially and focused my mind on healing, not even knowing if I could actually do magic at all. It did take a few attempts, but eventually there was a comfortable feeling and faint glow around my hand – or was it paw now? Anyway, I slowly moved my hand along what appeared to me as the Stormcloak՚s worst injury, a bad cut in his leg, and while at first the glow around my hand stayed where it was, I recalled what Stendarr had asked me to do in my vision – 'heal the sick' – and the feeling in me changed. When I opened my eyes fully again, some of the glow had started to move over to the Nord՚s wound, and I could watch the flow of blood diminishing. All too soon, though, after only a few seconds, the glow stopped, and I realized that I must have exhausted my magicka pool. For the time being, none was left for the other wounded soldier.

When I looked up again, the soldiers around me looked more friendly, and they no longer had their hands at the hilts of their swords. Ulfric did not look at me like some might look at a dangerous beast any longer; he now nodded politely, silently appreciating my help.

Ralof got us back to reality:

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing outside? Could the legends be true?"

Ulfric replied thoughtfully: "Legends don't burn down villages, I should think."

He was so right, of course. I stood up again, and when I had done that, I found myself being more than one head taller than both Ulfric and Ralof; their eyes were about level with my chest. Wow – that was impressive, and I loved it. Ralof was slightly taller than the Jarl, and assuming that they were both not small people and maybe between 180cm and 190cm or so – Nords were quite tall as I recalled – I had to be way more than 2m tall. Really? Yes, just like I had cheated myself to be with a mod to tune one's own size. Okay, maybe I needed to be careful not to intimidate people with just my size, but this was so totally cool.

Outside, there was more roaring and some noise from what probably was collapsing buildings, and the Jarl decided: "We need to move. Now!"

Ralof suggested: "Up through the tower, let's go!"

One of the soldiers told him: "We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!"

In the back of my mind there was a little voice telling me that going up the stairs might not be safe, but I was too late to warn the others. A dragon shout was heard and the big snout pushed through the wall, moving the heavy bricks and stones to the side like they were made of paper or styrofoam. The flames gushing out from Alduin killed the first soldier, but rather than sticking his snout further in, the dragon decided to go somewhere else next.

Ralof looked out of the hole the dragon had created in the wall and demanded while looking at me:

"Khajiit! That's a way out! See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow later!"

I looked down in front of me and swallowed. He wanted me to jump down, through the partially destroyed roof, right into the burning inn? I mean, I was not afraid of heights or so, but this seemed crazy. Was it really required for me to go this path? Couldn't I just stay with the others and avoid the trip through the keep? Well, maybe I should follow the script for now, and in this new body of mine, what could potentially go wrong? Just before jumping I remembered the girl I had carried into the tower. It seemed to be likely that she was Dragonborn, and if she was, it was going to be my duty to assist and protect her, so maybe I should not abandon her in her unconscious state. Thus, I ran back down to pick her up in my arms, ran up again and quickly jumped, not caring about the others following or not. The jump was quite high, in particular with the girl in my arms, but obviously being a big and agile Khajiit helped, and I managed to get down safely, right onto the top floor of what used to be an inn before. I turned around to check if Ralof and some others followed, but they did not; probably they had either found a better way or read the script – I smiled for a moment, thinking of Ralof playing the game and then doing as he was supposed to do. With flames around me, I did not linger long, but rather got downstairs via the stairs which were, fortunately, still intact and free of flames. I managed to get out of the ruined and partially burning building and paid attention to Alduin, who was still around. I had no clue in which direction to go, but there was Hadvar passing close, and so I just followed him for a few minutes; without him as a kind of guide, I would have completely lost my way in the chaos around me. A couple of times I had to jump to the side to avoid either a meteor coming down or a burning piece of wood from one of the collapsing buildings, and the tiny girl in my arms was still out cold. Fortunately, she was really tiny and I estimated her weight to be less than 50kg, so that she did not slow me down much.

As I had already noticed before, walking and even running on my Khajiit feet – hind paws? – was nice and easy and even natural, and I was glad to have this confirmed. We managed to get to the keep, and of course, Ralof and Hadvar were soon shouting at each other:

"Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine, go on. I hope that this dragon takes you all to Sovngarde."

"You, Khajiit! Come on, into the keep! If you stay out there, either the Imperials or the dragon will get you!" Ralof stated.

"With me, prisoner. Let's go, quick now; I can cut you loose inside the keep." Hadvar countered.

I had already made up my mind, although I knew quite well that I would not really matter if I went with Ralof or Hadvar through Helgen Keep. Maybe just to get a chance to get back at the smug female Imperial captain who had decided to ignore the lists, maybe more because the Imperials had been about to send me to the block, I followed Ralof inside, just barely missing another meteor shower sent down by the huge black dragon. On the other side of the door, we had time to rest a little for now, as the way forward was blocked by a locked gate. The tiny Bosmer girl started to stir in my arms, and I carefully put her down on the ground, leaning her chest and head against a wall. When she opened her eyes and found herself next to me, she yelped, jumped up and ran into a corner, and I heard her whimpering voice again:

"Bitte, tu mir nichts!"

{"Please, do not hurt me!"}

I shivered almost as much as she did; after all, I had just jumped from the tower into the partially burning inn, navigated around to avoid Alduin and find my way to the keep, and carried her all of the time, too, and my mind urgently needed a few minutes to calm down. Herself addressing me in my native language somehow helped, and I decided to humor her and replied in the same language:

"Keine Angst. Ich bin keine wilde Bestie, sondern ein Khajiit."

{"Do not be afraid. I am not a wild beast, but a Khajiit."}

"Du sprichst Deutsch? Und was ist ein Khajiit?"

{"You speak German? And what is a Khajiit?"}

I nodded, but it was obvious that she did not trust me at all; she was still trembling, and her eyes showed confusion and fear. I thought about how to explain who and what a Khajiit was, but there was no time to talk more now, as Ralof warned us:

"Be quiet – someone is coming!"

I suddenly realized that stupid me had tried to make conversation with the petite and scared Bosmer rather than doing something which might be more appropriate and important at this time. Alerted by Ralof՚s call, warning us that we were going to have company soon, I looked around and searched for a weapon. Not seeing many options I grabbed the iron war axe the dead Stormcloak in the room had on him, and I found that I could very easily wield it; it felt like little more than a toy in my strong hand. There was no shield, though, and thus I prepared the 'flames' spell in my left hand; I was happy to find out that I could do that by instinct, like it used to work for player characters of all or at least most races in the game. After all, I did not have an inventory screen available where I could pick items or spells individually from. I assumed, seeing myself as novice mage, that I might not be able to kill somebody by casting flames, but maybe it was good enough for a distraction.

Somebody got busy at the locked gate from the other side, and Ralof and I had placed ourselves close to the wall on either side, so that we could not be seen right away. Fiona, with her hands still bound, unintentionally served as distraction now, leaning against a wall across from the gate as she was; a male Imperial soldier and that arrogant captain unlocked the gate and entered our side, and the first person they saw was the female wood elf. Fiona whimpered and raised her bound hands, and the captain commanded:

"Bosmer! Down on your knees! Now!"

The soldier who was with her noticed now that there were two other people in the room as well, but Ralof attacked him before he could warn his captain. Sword clanking noises alarmed her, and she looked at Ralof as well, away from me. This was my chance – I raised my war axe and hit the armor on her back. Well, I guess that was what armor was for; she staggered, but seemed not to be injured, at least not much. Now it was her turn; she turned around and raised her sword, and I hesitated at first, which almost cost me. However, right at this time there was another loud roar from outside, and the ground trembled. The Imperial captain stumbled, and almost by instinct, I raised my left hand and actually managed to cast flames right into her face. The effect was not really spectacular, but while my mediocre flames were nothing like a flamethrower or so and lasted only for a couple of seconds, they obviously caused burns and pain enough to make the captain step back and yelp. Not only that, but she also dropped her sword to cover her face with both hands, and this was my second chance to get her. I had realized that I needed to find a body part which was not covered by armor, and her arm around the elbow presented itself as such. I lifted my axe again, but before swinging it down, a conscience attack stopped me. Wait a second – was I really going to use a weapon to hit a person? This was not going to be wood cutting; she'd be hurt and maybe killed, by my hands! What was I doing? The rational part of my mind insisted on doing it right away and stated that I did not have a choice, as she had started to attack me, and if I refused act, I'd most likely die by her hands a few seconds later, as soon as she had recovered from the flame attack. The captain dropping her right hand to pick up her sword again finally made the difference, and with a great mental effort, overriding my conscience, I swung my axe down into her left arm, which was not moving much. My motion was done with the strength the new body allowed me to use, and the lower part of the captain's arm was almost entirely cut off from the body at the elbow. She screamed and fell down, and blood splashed out from the wound almost like from a fountain. Before I could even think about maybe getting sick or allow time for my conscience to object once again, I now aimed properly and cut deep into her neck, killing the Imperial captain instantly. Ralof was just done with his own adversary, and he nodded at me:

"Good thinking to distract her with flames. Sometimes I think we Nords should be a little more open to magic."

Had I heard right? Had a Nord really just admitted that magic could be useful? While he talked I realized that I had just killed a person; the first one in my entire life. I needed to sit down for a moment, and if my stomach had not been empty, I might have vomited. I had killed somebody, a real person! Yes, she had attacked me and it had been self defense, but still. I realized, once again, that I most likely needed to get used to killing people here in Skyrim, but this was something I clearly had not considered when accepting Akatosh՚s offer. The image of blood squirting from the partially separated arm and my axe in the captain's neck was probably going to haunt me for days and nights to come, even knowing that I had not had a choice.

My face must have reflected some of my thoughts, in particular my disgust about killing people. Judged by the way Ralof looked at me he probably understood, and he told me:

"You are not a warrior, Khajiit, or are you?"

"No, not really, Ralof. I am more of a scholar, and killing is nothing I want to get used to. I have never killed a person before, and this is definitely not something I like to do."

I also realized that I had been very lucky. The Imperial had clearly been the better fighter, and she had probably known how to use her sword; I had only been able to defeat her because she had first been distracted by Ralof attacking the soldier next to her and then by the trembling ground and my flames spell. I had never ever handled a sword, but the war axe I had found was similar to the axe I had frequently used for wood chopping at my parents' log cabin, so that I could more or less handle it at least. I was very glad that my big Khajiit paws were somewhere between a predator paw and a human hand; I had semi-retractable claws, but could still properly hold a tool or weapon, although I might not be good at all with smaller things, like threading a needle.

Ralof nodded and told me:

"It is refreshing to meet a Khajiit who has actually learned how to talk properly, and there's no reason to be ashamed of admitting that killing is disgusting. I also hate to do it, but sometimes one doesn't have a choice. Let's see what we find around here, shall we?"

Fiona had been whimpering through the fight, and when we moved to the barracks the Imperials had come from she followed us at some distance, Ralof cut her binds and started to look around, and we saw that the room had some barrels, chests and shelves with all kind of supplies. After being encouraged by the Stormcloak soldier to take what I wanted, I used the opportunity to grab a small backpack and fill it with food and some potions, whatever I could find. Although some more weapons were available in the room, the petite wood elf did not even try to get some for herself, and only when Ralof prompted her, she took at least a dagger.

[Author's Notes: Like in my story 'More than twilight in Skyrim', there are some language issues. It makes sense that the 'real' Skyrim language, Tamrielic/Cyrodiilic/?, is mostly identical to American English, as the game was designed in that language by Bethesda. A teenage girl from Central Europe with German as her native language will be able to communicate in English, too, as almost all schools teach that as first foreign language, but she will fall back to her native language when she is excited or scared. I will, of course, keep providing translations in curly brackets.

I imagine my hero to be a 'Cathay-raht' Khajiit, described as 'much stronger and faster than Humans or Mer' and 'very fast, agile and strong'. Thus, he is even taller and stronger and more brawny than the human actor Richard Kiel (who played 'Jaws' in two James Bond movies – about 2.20m/140kg – 7'3"/310lb or so) – see also the 'Cathay-raht Race' mod for Skyrim LE. Carrying a petite girl around should not be too much of an effort for him.]