Slowly Ragnar started to wake up, head feeling as if a frost troll had smacked him about and body aching as if he had fallen from a cliff. He felt snow against his face along with sharp rumble scraping against the right side of his face which was pressing to the ground. Grunting, he'd push himself up onto his knees, panting as he catches his breath while examining his surroundings, being in the centre of a clearing of some forest.
He was a bit disappointed.
"I was expecting something more exotic."
It was easy to tell that he wasn't on Skyrim because of the moon, Masser was nowhere to be seen and secunda seemed a bit smaller than usual. Already he questioned if he was in some other world, Banished from Tamriel by the Daedras. Maybe he was just all the way at Castle Volkihar…and everything had just been a crazy dream.
"Shit… " He muttered as he'd staggered up to his feet, groaning in pain before grasping at his right side. Considering his experience with injuries, he could tell that he had cut himself pretty deep on a rock when he crash landed, Ragnar could see one of his ribs poking out his side but he wasn't worried, although this injury would surely kill a normal man, he was as far from normal as it gets. However his sharp ears hear something in the surrounding woods, a heavy foot breaking twigs. Survival instinct had the Dovahkiin on guard, grasping his Dragonbane blade, waiting for a sign of who or whatever lurked about.
From the thick tree line, a gruff figure armed with a crude axe stepped into view. For a moment Ragnar thought it was a Nord Bandit but noticed how the clothing was far too primitive in design. The bearded man grunted, speaking out in some unknown language while waving his axe about in a threatening manner.
"You arrived just in time, I'm parched." Ragnar spoke back, biting back pain from his injured side. Slowly gripped his blade, ready to draw steel if needed. The man looked confused at the Dovahkiin, obviously not understanding a word he said before grinning after a moment. Again he spoke, tone calmer as he'd lower his axe and relax his stance, though Ragnar saw how man's other hand shift to a rusty throwing knife at his hip.
As soon as that knife was thrown, Ragnar used his free hand to grab the knife with effortless ease, supernatural reflexes made such feats of speed so easy for him that it was almost boring to fight humans. The raider gave a wide eyed look of shock before yelling out in some kind of warning cry. It was cut short as Ragnar threw the knife back at him, so great was his strength that the dagger ripped the air making a loud sound and the blade pierced right into the man's face coming out through his neck. Blood and brains flew about as the destroyed skull fell to the ground, right after that he heard more angry yells. Three more raiders stormed out of the woods running at him, gruff faces fierce with anger.
If their intention was catching him off guard then Ragar felt sorry for them, unless they were using a muffled spell, sneaking up on him was an impossible mission for a human since he could hear their beating hearts from leagues away.
"Come at me! I could use a drink or two!" Ragnar laughed before casting a Ebonyflesh spell with his left hand, a short shimmer of blue energy pulsing as a shield around him. Quickly he was surrounded, three of the wild men quickly attacking from all sides. Being wounded and thirsty left his defenses low, yet the Spell guarded him so he did not even try to dodge their attacks.
It was pretty amusing seeing those savages scream in disbelief as their swords, axes and daggers shattered like glass upon touching him.
"My turn!" Ragnar charged forward at lighting speed and the tallest strongest member of the group was decapitated in a flash, the others did not even had time to react before Ragnar slash left and right. His blade started to chop every man in its path just as easily as carving a cake, making his attackers yell out in horror. One by one they dropped, a head detached from its neck, an arm severed and a torso chopped in half.
Smiling, he saw more wild raiders swarming from the woods, nearly a dozen from a glance. He was impressed, men in Skyrim would usually run after seeing their friends dismembered or magic being used. But right now he didn't care if they were all suicidal…that made things more fun! As the first line of men closed in he raised his left hand and casted Fireball and watched the ball of flames burst forth, setting off a huge explosion that blew several trees away, mangled the first line of men apart and ended up setting the rest of the group aflame. They howled and stumbled around in pain only for him to move in, cutting each of the burning men down in the blink of an eye. More hateful yells and cries came from the left and a second wave of savages charged at him but he did not even look at them, he just raised his arm and casted Chain Lighting. A deafening thunderous sound roared from his hand, and he aimed it to land in the middle of the charging group, ensuring he'd hit all of them. The resulting explosion instantly turned those men into dust, leaving only a chilling silence afterwards.
Still smiling, he'd step back to survey his handy work, leaning back against a tree to steady himself. Over a dozen of the Savages were dead, small fires burning around from both his spells. "Any more?" He spoke out, excitement making him lose a bit of composure for the moment. Taking a deep breath to sigh, he calmly made his way towards a headless body on the ground. He grabbed the body, and sank his fangs into the exposed wound around the neck, as he gulped the blood down he shivered from the pleasant taste, a soothing feeling soon coursed through him quickening his recovery. as he felt the cut on his side close he took a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the sweet taste of blood, but he'd soon hear a new sound approaching him, the hooves of horses and the beating hearts of men.
Opening his eyes, he'd shift to stand straight as he felt fully recovered and focused once more. Soon from a more open part of the woods, three men in leather and chainmail rode in on horseback, each carrying round steel shields with the mark of a snarling wolf on it. Ragnar could tell they were soldiers from their gear and the way they acted, although their expressions showed shock at the death and gore before them.
Quickly, all three of them focused on Ragnar who just stared at them. His DragonBane blade was still out, held low to his side. The soldiers had their swords up slightly as one rider moved up, keeping his blade at the ready. "Who are you outsider?" The man spoke, his accent deep and tone stern. The language was that of skyrim.
"Ragnar the Black…" The Dovahkiin simply stated.
"Ragnar the Black? I've never heard of any knight in westeros carrying that name"
"That's because i'm not from westeros, i'm from Skyrim"
"Skyrim? Is that some land from Essos?" The soldier quickly questioned. "I can't say I've seen anyone like you either. That armour is unlike anything I've seen…that sword…red eyes-" He'd pause when he saw those eyes, cat-like and just as red as the blood that covered the man's mouth. It caught him off guard and he gripped his weapon more tightly. "Did you kill all of these Wildings? There must be dozens, yet you're alone."
Ragnar, paused before nodding. "Yes…they attacked me. But I made short work of them." He explained.
Again the guards muttered about each other, giving warily looks to the red eyed man. "Outsider, in the name of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, you are to accompany us back to the capital keep for questioning." The leading guard requested.
Already Ragnar realised that he wasn't in the Tamriel version of the North. He didn't know about any Lord Stark of Winterfell, the first hints that the Daedra banished him to a different world. "I have a better idea, instead of me accompanying you, how about the three of you accompany me?" He asked with a smile.
Upon seeing his fangs covered in blood the guards tensed and gripped their swords.
"You are no man! what the hell are you!"
The three gripped their blades tightly, preparing to fight.
"Your new master!" he said laughing.
Gol Hah Dov!