Marcus half sat on one of the beds in the barracks area of the keep they found themselves in. His head began to spin and he suddenly felt ill. How in the name of Sithis and the Nine Divines could what just happened be possible? A living, breathing dragon was tearing Helgen to pieces. And those shouts. He could still feel his throat burning, as if he himself had let that fire loose from his lungs. He raised his head and looked in Hadvars direction. He was leaning against a wall, trying to catch his breath.

"Was that really a dragon?" he asked, a look of sheer disbelief crossing his face, "The bringers of the end times".

"I would appear so," Marcus replied, his voice extremely hoarse. Why the hell was his throat burning in the first place?

Hadvar shook his head, stood away from the wall and walked over to Marcus.

"Turn around", he said, "Let me see if I can get those bindings off".

Marcus turned and allowed Hadvar to slip his dagger in between the loops of the binds. Hadvar pressed the blade heavily against the rope and began to saw the bindings loose. In a matter of seconds, Marcus's hands were free. The skin on his wrists were red raw from where the rope had rubbed off against the flesh. Marcus flexed his hands and rolled his wrists in order to give some strength back to them. Hadvar tossed aside the rope and sheathed his dagger.

"There you go," he said and then indicated to the room around them, "Take a look around and see if you can find some gear for yourself. There should be armor in the chests and weapons hanging from a rack at the end of the room. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns".

Marcus turned away from him and moved towards the chest at the foot of the bed he had been sitting on. Upon opening it, he found an Imperial leather chest piece with pauldrons and a pair of studded gauntlets. Beside the chest he found a pair of leather plated boots. He discarded the rags the Imperials had fitted him with and donned the armor. The armor was lighter than he was used to. He made a mental note to be more cautious than usual should he find himself in trouble. He hurried to the opposite end of the room and found a rack full of iron swords. He picked one up and tested its edge. Sharp enough to puncture leather and mail if thrust hard enough. He gave it a few swings to test its weight against his balance. The first couple of swings pulled him forwards but soon his arm grew accustomed to its weight. A bit too heavy but it would suit its purpose. He turned to find Hadvar.

"I'm ready when you are", he called to him.

Hadvar walked towards him and tossed him a glass vial. Marcus caught it. He saw that it contained a creamy paste.

"Some salve for your wrists", Hadvar explained.

Marcus uncorked the vial and rubbed the salve into the raw flesh of his wrists. Instantly, the pain began to fade.

"My thanks", Marcus said.

"None need. Come on," Hadvar said to him, "We have to get moving if we want to get out of here".

He led Marcus through the door of the barracks and down a short hallway. They soon found themselves behind a gateway leading into the main hall of the keep. On the other side of the gateway was a couple of Stormcloak soldiers. Marcus leaned to hear what they were saying.

"We need to get out of here", one of them said quickly, "That dragon is tearing the whole keep apart."

"Just….just give me…..give me a minute", the other gasped, "I need to catch my breath."

Hadvar gave Marcus a look.

"Keep your weapon sheathed," He whispered, "Perhaps we can reason with them".

"And if we can't?" Marcus asked, giving Hadvar a sceptical look, "If I don't have time to draw my weapon, we're dead".

"Just trust me", Hadvar replied.

Why he did trust him, Marcus had no idea. This man and his comrades had been sentencing Marcus to death a mere 20 minutes earlier for no other reason than he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. By all rights, he should be taking his sword and driving it through Hadvars gut and any other Imperial soldier he saw. But then again, Hadvar did bring forward the point that Marcus was not supposed to be there, and even treated him with sympathy. Why that had earned Marcus's trust was a mystery. Perhaps it was just because the Nord soldier was a likable person. He pushed the thought from concern and allowed Hadvar to carry out his plan.

"Alright, but I think going in there unarmed is suicide", Marcus said wearily.

Hadvar gave a quick grin. He then placed his hands up in the air and walked slowly into the main hall. Marcus followed his lead. As the Stormcloaks spotted them, they straightened up and drew their weapons, an ugly looking bastard sword for one, and the other, two iron hand axes. Hadvar kept his hands raised.

"Easy now, we are unarmed," Hadvar cautioned, "We only wish to talk."

"And why should we listen to anything an Imperial dog would have to say?" the Stormcloak with the bastard sword growled.

"We'd sooner open you from chin to groin," the one with the axes joined.

Marcus scowled.

"In case it has escaped your notice, there is a dragon outside these walls, tearing Helgen apart," he snapped at the Stormcloaks, "A dragon who poses more of a threat to you than a lightly armed Imperial soldier and civilian".

"He's right", Hadvar said instantly, "And besides, you need us just as much as we need you. I know exactly how to escape this keep without going through the town. Without me, you'll be stuck here."

The Stormcloak with the sword eyed the pair suspiciously.

"Or we could always just kill your friend here, break your arms and force you to show us the way out", the axeman threatened.

"If you take that path, the only place it will take you is straight to Soverngarde friend," Marcus warned.

The swordman turned to his comrade.

"Perhaps the Imperial is right brother", he said quietly, "As he said, he can lead us out."

The axeman gave his comrade a look, sighed and shook his head.

"Very well", he mumbled, sheathing his axes, "But one foul move and we will cut you down like the dogs you are!"

As the Stormcloak with the sword sheathed his weapon, Marcus saw his chance. He was not going to trust these Stormcloaks on their word, only to have them turn and cut them down suddenly. He pulled Hadvars dagger from its sheath, took quick aim and threw. The dagger sailed through the air, making two revolutions before burying itself into the swordmans chest. With a grunt, he fell to the ground, clutching at his wound. Instantly, before the other could react, Marcus rushed forward and drew his sword. The axemans eyes opened wide as he moved to draw his axes. But Marcus was that much quicker. He wrapped his fingers around the axemans wrist and violently twisted it to the left. As he heard the bone crack, he forced the man to his knees, and without hesitation, drove his sword deep into the Stormcloaks neck and collarbone. A sickly bubbling noise issued from his mouth as Marcus withdrew his sword and let his body fall to the floor. He turned to check on the other rebel. He was dead.

"What in the name of the gods are you doing?" Hadvar asked, shocked, "They agreed to come with us!"

"We could have expected no help from them," Marcus said harshly, "As the slightest chance, they would have stabbed us in the back. And besides, when we finally got out of here, do you really think they would have just turned tail and let us go our separate ways?"

Hadvar gave him a troubled look.

"I suppose not", he said wearily, "But how do I know I can trust you not to do the same to me, should the opportunity arise?"

Marcus stared at him for a moment.

"Because if it weren't for you, I'd still be outside, dodging the fire from that dragon," he finally explained, "I owe you my life".

Marcus pulled the dagger from the Stormcloaks chest, handed it to Hadvar and clasped his upon the shoulder.

"Come", he said to the frowning Nord, "It's time we got ourselves out of here. Lead the way".

Hadvar sheathed his dagger and moved towards a door on the other side of the chamber, unlocking it as soon as he reached it.

"This way", he said to Marcus.

Marcus followed him through the door. They found themselves on a landing, with stairs leading down further into the keep. Following the stairway down, it led them out into a long hallway. A group of Imperial soldiers stood a little ways down. Hadvar signalled to them.

"This way", he called out to them.

As they moved down the hallway towards Marcus and Hadvar, suddenly the ground around them shook. The ceiling above the Imperial soldiers began to crack off, and before they had time to react, even time to scream, it came crashing down on top of them. Hadvar cursed. Marcus spotted a door to their left and indicated it to Hadvar.

"Where does that lead?" he asked.

"A storeroom", Hadvar replied, "And that leads down into the torture room and prison. There should be a secret exit down in the prisons. Let's go"

Hadvar moved to open the door. Marcus quickly grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hadvar asked, taken by surprise.

Marcus silenced him with a look and a raised hand. He put a finger to his lips, indicating for Hadvar to be quiet. He made his way silently to the door and listened closely. The fast breaths of someone panting. He knew it! There were men on the other side of this door.

"There's someone on the other side of this door", Marcus whispered to Hadvar.

"Stormcloaks?" Hadvar asked in hushed tones.

Marcus listened closely, but no sound came.

"I don't know", he replied, "But if we have to pass through here, we need to be quiet"

Suddenly a voice issued from the room, muffled by the door.

"What are you doing? We need to get out of Helgen. Now!"

"Hold a moment brother", came another voice, "These Imperials have potions in here. We're going to need them."

"Stormcloaks", Hadvar cursed, "What are we going to do?"

Marcus thought for a moment. By the sounds of it, there were only two. Marcus alone should be more than a match for two rebel soldiers. He had faced worse odds before and come out the better. Plus he was not alone.

"Follow my lead", he whispered to Hadvar quietly.

Marcus placed his hand on the door knob and turned it as quietly as he could. Thankfully, the latch released silently and he let the door slowly swing open. Crouching, he made his way into the room as silently as possible. He spotted the two Stormcloaks. One had his head buried in a barrel, searching for supplies while the other was faced away from them. Marcus turned to Hadvar.

"I'm going to charge the one facing away from us", he told Hadvar, "Follow closely behind me and take out the one with his head in the barrel".

Hadvar nodded and slowly drew his sword. Marcus stood, drew his sword and leaped forward, roaring as he did. The Stormcloak jumped at the sound of the shout and turned to meet the threat. He was very lucky he had his weapon drawn, for if he had not, he would not have been able to parry Marcus's attack and would have found himself without a left arm. As Marcus pulled away from the parry and prepared to make another attack, the Stormcloak quickly swung his axe around and aimed a blow at Marcus's head. Marcus had barely enough time to lift his sword to block due to the fierceness of the blow and found himself staggering slightly. He did not have much time to regain his composure, as the Stormcloak followed up with a flurry of light blows. Marcus ducked and weaved his way around the Stormcloaks advances and just as he was about to be backed up against a wall, he found his opening. As the Stormcloak raised his axe for a forehand blow, Marcus forward rolled under his attack and let his sword swing. It found its mark and sliced through the rebels hamstring. The Stormcloak fell to his knees with a scream, clutching at the wound on his leg. Marcus pulled himself to his feet, grabbed the Stormcloak by his shoulder and drove his sword through the rebels back. As he withdrew his sword, a gush of blood issued from the wound. Panting slightly, he turned to check on Hadvar. He had sent his Stormcloak on the defense, quickly knocking aside his weapon and driving his sword through the Stormcloaks belly. The Stormcloak fell to the ground, moaning pitifully. Hadvar gave him a look of disgust, before drawing his dagger, reaching down and cutting the rebels throat. Marcus walked to him and helped him to his feet.

"Well that went a lot better than the first encounter", Hadvar dryly commented.

"Let's just hope we don't run into anymore," Marcus replied, "We may not be so lucky next time".

"Follow me", Hadvar said quickly, "The dungeons are this way".

Marcus followed as Hadvar lead him through another door and down more flights of stairs. They soon found themselves in a room dedicated to torture. Cages stood against the wall surrounding the room and a table in the middle held an array of tools, instruments used to cause pain. A torturer stood leaning against the table while his assistant stood solemnly behind him, weapon drawn. Three or four bodies wearing Stormcloak armor littered the room.

"Looks like you fellows are late for the festivities", the Torturer drawled, "These fools seemed to be a bit upset with the way I have been taking care of their comrades".

Hadvar stared at the man with nothing but contempt in his eyes.

"Don't you even know what's going on out there?" He asked the Torturer, "A dragon is attacking Helgen!"

"A dragon?" the Torturer scoffed, "Don't be so ridiculous".

Then he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Although, come to think of it, I did hear some odd noises coming from over there", he said, indicated a passge that lead to the holding chambers, Marcus guessed.

"Come with us", Hadvar said, urgency creeping into his voice, "We need to get out of here".

The Torturer glared at Hadvar. The thought of being ordered around by someone more than half his age incised him.

"You have no authority over me boy," He growled.

"Didn't you hear me?" Hadvar shouted, "I said the keep is under attack".

Marcus placed his hand on Hadvar shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

"Forget about them", he said, "If they want to stay, let them".

Hadvar glared at the pair standing before them. He then shrugged his shoulders and moved towards the entrance to the holding cells.

"You're right", he said softly, "Come on, let's get moving".

As they reached the end of the holding cells, they found that the wall had caved in and a tunnel leading away from the room. Hadvar gave Marcus a curious glance, and made his way into the tunnel. Marcus quickly followed, as the ground beneath them began to shake again. For maybe ten or fifteen minutes they followed a winding path until an opening into a large cavern stood before them. Hadvar grinned at Marcus.

"Come on" he urged and moved forward.

Suddenly, Marcus heard a distant twang and a faint whistling. He quickly grabbed onto Hadvars armour and yanked him backwards, just as an arrow passed through the space Hadvars body had occupied literally half a second beforehand.

"Shors Bones", Hadvar cursed, "That was a close one. More Stormcloaks do you think?"

Marcus shrugged.

"I don't know," He replied breathlessly, "But I think it matters little. That archer let fly the second you crossed that threshold."

Hadvar rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"What are we going to do then?" He asked.

Marcus assessed the situation for a moment. No matter what side that archer was on, he was clearly extremely twitchy and therefore more than likely in no mood to talk. There was only one thing left for the to do.

"Do you see that opening on the other side of the cavern?" Marcus asked as he pointed in the appropriate direction.

Hadvar squinted slightly. "Yes I see it," he murmered.

"We're going to have to make a break for it", Marcus told him, "One will have to go first to draw the archers attention, and the other will move when the first has reached a halfway mark".

Hadvar groaned, "Is that really our only option?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Marcus replied, "This guy is far too twitchy for my liking and I would rather take him by surprise than let him know we're coming out into the open".

"Fine, alright then," Hadvar sighed, "Who goes first?"

"I'll go," Marcus said, "When I reach that jagged rock formation there, you follow straight after me".

Hadvar nodded and stood back. Marcus took a pace or two back, took a deep breath, offered a prayer to Sithis, and propelled himself forward. The instant he cleared the opening, an arrow zoomed passed his head, missing by inches. Marcus ran in a zig zag formation in an attempt to throw the archer off his aim. As he reached the opening on the opposite side, he threw himself across it, landing hard upon the rocky floor of the tunnel. Seconds later, Hadvar had joined him, bleed slightly from the head.

"An arrow colliding into the rock formation, sending bits of shrapnel flying," he explain, using his hand to wipe away the blood, "It's only a scratch, don't worry. Come on, hopefully this tunnel will lead us to a way out."

This tunnel proved to be far longer than the last. By the time they saw a glimmer of light at the end of one of the passage ways, Marcus had lost track of how long they were walking for. And he didn't care. Just to see some form of natural light was a godsend. Hadvar clapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on, we're almost there", he said, joy filling his voice and began to run towards the exit of the cave.