Chapter 3: Escape

"Get up Elf, we need to move!" Art looked around dazed to see Ralof of Riverwood standing over him. Most of the town was burning, and the execution grounds were littered with dead Stormcloaks and Imperials alike.

"I said move!" Ralof roughly grabbed him by his bicep and hauled him to his feet. Art stumbled at first, but quickly gained his balance. "This way!" Ralof shouted, gesturing to an old watchtower. Art ran behind him, easily keeping up with the larger man.

They made it into the tower just in time, the dragon had returned for another pass at the square. The ground erupted into fire where moments ago they had been standing.

There was a group of Stormcloaks in the tower. The Jarl was among them, ungagged and unbound. Some of them had even managed to acquire weapons, most likely from the slain Imperials.

"Jarl Ulfric, what's happening? Could the legends be true?" Ralof asked.

The Jarl simply looked at him and replied with, "Legends don't burn down villages."

Ralof was silent for a moment, then "We need to get out of here."

"The only way out of here is up" offered one of the Stormcloaks.

"Then up it is. Elf, you're with me. If you're lucky and follow my lead you'll get out of this alive." Ralof began making his way up the stairs, and Art had no choice but to follow him, still bound. Ralof was in front when all of a sudden the dragon's head came crashing through the wall of the tower, knocking him down the stairs. The dragon filled the stairwell ahead of him with fire so hot that Art couldn't even breathe, then it retreated.

Art looked around for Ralof, and saw him struggling to his feet at the base of the stairs. "Go!" he shouted, "Before that beast returns!"

Art decided to heed his advice, and continued up the stairs. The hole the dragon had created was only a few feet higher than the next roof over. The only problem was that said roof was ablaze. Art steeled himself, said a quick prayer to the Eight Divines then jumped. He landed on his feet, as Wood Elves are prone to do. Unfortunately what he landed on was burning straw, which couldn't support him. The roof collapsed under him, dropping him into the burning room below. Before he even had time to try and get back up, the floor under him collapsed too, dropping him into a burning pile of rubble in the bottom floor of the house.

Art laid there, dazed and trapped by a wooden beam that had pinned his leg. He tried to call out for help, but the smoke of the room had coated his throat, making it difficult to speak, let alone yell.

"Help" he wheezed. "Heeeeelp!" He was sent into a fit of coughing, unable to breathe.

"Don't worry Art, I've got you." A pair of strong hands lifted the beam off of his leg, and pulled him to his feet. The man wrapped Art's arm around his shoulders and helped him out the door and into the fresh air.

Art collapsed into the ground in another coughing fit, but the fresh air made short work of this one. When he had finished he looked up at his savoir, and saw Hadvar standing there.

"Y'all right Artoov?" He asked, genuinely concerned. Hadvar was always genuinely concerned for the people of Helgen, and had always had a soft spot for Artoov. He did all he could to help them, or at least all his orders would allow him to do. Hadvar was a man of duty. He lived, breathed and would, eventually, die for the Empire.

"Yeah, I'm alright Hadvar." Art responded. As he looked around more he saw an older man and a child standing behind Hadvar. Obviously Art wasn't the only one he had saved today.

"Good. I have orders to get civilians to the keep. All of you keep your heads down and follow me." Hadvar began jogging along one of the inner walls of Helgen, keeping close to the wall and out of sight of the dragon that was circling above.

They passed by a group of Imperial archers, who were doing their best to bring the dragon down.

"Hadvar! Get those civilians to safety!" It was the voice of the man on the wall, the General.

"Yes sir General Tulius! Civilians, to the keep. This way!" Hadvar broke into a full sprint towards the keep, which the old man and the small child struggled to keep up with. Above them the dragon had stopped circling and was coming in to deal with the archers that had been pestering them, and Art and the others were directly in his path.

"Hurry!" Hadvar shouted, struggling to open the keep door. Behind Art the child tripped and fell, and the old man stopped to pick him up. Art was well ahead of both of them now. Above him he heard a roar, and fire rained from the sky. He heard screams but he didn't stop running until he made it through the partially open door, and to Hadvar who was waiting inside.

"Where are the others?" He asked

Art looked at him, shaking his head. "I-I don't think they made it."

"By Ysmir's beard!" Hadvar shook his head, then headed to the open keep door. "You stay here, I need to go join in the resistance!"

"It's suicide to go back out there!" Art yelled.

"It's also my duty." Hadvar stared at him long and hard after that. The seconds his gaze was on him felt like hours.

"Ok" Art said, "Just don't, uh, just don't get yourself killed ok?" Hadvar just smiled and nodded. He walked to the keep door.

"Close this behind me" he said. And with that he stepped back into the battle. Art hurried to close the door behind Hadvar, and as soon as he did the din from outside died out. He had forgotten what quiet sounded like, and he took a moment to enjoy it.

It didn't last long however. He heard a crashing sound down the hall, and a second later Ralof burst into the room. Ralof saw him, and hurried over to him.

"Here, let me cut you loose. We don't have much time before they catch up." Ralof pulled a dagger from his tunic and cut the ropes that bound Art's hands.

"Before who gets here?" Art asked, concerned.

"The Imperials!" Ralof responded. "Did you think we were getting out of here without a fight?"

"Uh, see, I'm not so sure-" Art's words were cut off by the two Imperials that burst into the room. The leader was the female Captain from the executions, the follower looked to be a recruit.

"There he is!" The Captain shouted, "and he has backup!"

"By the Eight," Art cursed.

Ralof drew his sword and charged the Captain, who side stepped him and moved towards Art, leaving Ralof for her companion. The Captain lunged at him, bringing her sword down to strike at his head. Art back stepped, narrowly avoiding the slash.

"Listen lady, I don't want to fight!" Art quickly glanced around looking for a weapon, but spotted nothing.

"Silence Stormcloak!" The Captain lunged at him again, this time with a stab aimed at his stomach. Art deftly sidestepped it, and delivered a solid punch to her face. The Imperial Captain stumbled backwards, but quickly regained her composure.

"Heh," she laughed as she wiped the blood from her face. She adopted a lower stance, clearly waiting for Art to strike next. He didn't disappoint her. He charged at her screaming, dodging under the swipe she took at him, and tackled her to the ground. They went down together, but she used the momentum of their fall to throw Art off of her. He sprawled out next to her on the ground. He sword skittered along the ground to the other side of the room, where Ralof and the other soldier were fighting. Art's eyes followed it briefly, but then the Captain was on top of him, strangling him.

Art's hands slapped uselessly against her helmet as she choked the life out of him, and his vision began to blur. He quickly jabbed his thumb into her eye, which caused her grip to loosen. He took this chance to roll over and assume the dominant position. He didn't hold it long however, as she threw him off of her with the momentum.

Art scrambled to his feet before she could, the advantage of not wearing armor. Before she could stand he heard Ralof shout "Elf!" Art turned to see the Captain's sword flying through the air towards him. He deftly grabbed it from the air, positioned it in his hand and struck at the Captain in one fluid motion.

His slash connected at her neck, slitting her throat. Her eyes went wide as she began choking on her own blood, and she fell to the ground. In moments she went still.

Art stared at her corpse, shocked. He had never killed a person before. Hunting game was one thing, but this made him feel sick.

"You sure know how to handle yourself Elf," Ralof said. "The rebellion could use more men like you."

Art tuned to look at him, and saw that the other Imperial was dead too.

"Looks like you can handle yourself too." Art still wasn't feeling completely himself, but he knew he had to get a move on before more Imperials showed up. If he couldn't explain to them he wasn't a rebel before, he doubted they would believe him now.

"This way, we'll have to find a way out further into the keep." Ralof picked up the dead Imperial's sword, and sheathed it in his belt. "Follow me."

They headed deeper into the keep, keeping their eyes and ears open for more Imperials. As they approached the top of a staircase, Ralof held his arm out to stop him. Art listened closely, and could hear voices coming from the room below.

"A dragon? Here at Helgen? Are you mad, or is your mead addled brain playing tricks on you again? The dragons are long dead." The voice sounded nasally and a bit pompous.

"I swear, I saw it with mine own eyes! A great fire breathing lizard!" The second voice sounded deeper, like it was coming from a larger man. "We need to leave, now!"

"Fine, fine. Just allow me to pack my potions, then we can escape through the caves."

"Caves huh?" Ralof whispered. "Sounds like our way out of here."

Art nodded his assent. Ralof began silently making his way down the steps, and Art followed. Ralof unsheathed his sword as he went. At the bottom of the steps he looked over his shoulder and gave Art some hand signals that he didn't fully understand, but he got the gist of it. More killing. Ralof charged into the room, yelling a war cry. Art followed him, evaluating the situation.

There were two men in the room. One of them was in the standard Imperial armor, the other was garbed in the robes of an Imperial mage. The soldier was moving to stop Ralof, but Art knew he had to attack the mage before he could get a spell off.

He charged the mage, sword ready to plunge into his stomach. The mage turned towards him, flames in his hand. The fireball he threw at Art flew narrowly by his head, burning some of his hairs. Art slammed into him, his blade plunging straight into his gut. The mage went down, Art's blade sticking out of him.

Art heard a crash from the other side of the room, and saw the Imperial collapse to the ground. Ralof pulled his sword out of his gut and wiped it on his tunic.

"Damn, this is fun!" He turned to face Art. "Damn Elf, you are much better at fighting than you look!"

"Beginners luck, I guess," Art shrugged. "Come on, we should really get going."

"Right." Ralof turned towards the exit to the room. "The caves must be this way."

Art pulled his blade out of the mage and reluctantly wiped it on his tunic. They hurried to the exit, and soon found the caves that the mage had mentioned.

"Come on, we must be close!" Art hurried down the tunnels. Soon he could feel cold air on his face. He kept running, and soon he could see sunlight. After about another minute he was out of the caves, and in the open.

"We made it!" Art turned to look at Ralof, who did not seem nearly as excited as he did. "What's your problem?"

"Guess I'm just used to this by now, minus the dragon that is" he joked. "Come on, Riverwood is just down the road from her. My sister lives there and I'm sure she'll be willing to provide a hot meal and a warm bed."

"I don't have anywhere better to be, let's go before that dragon comes back." The headed off down the road to Riverwood, keeping their eyes on the road and the skies.