For a Breath of Fresh Air – It's bright in the keep, but the stone walls make me fidgety. I pace as Ralof bends down to offer his respects to the dead Stormcloak lying near the table. "You may as well take Gunjar's gear," he tells me when he's done. "He won't be needing it anymore." Swiftly he pulls a knife through my bonds.

I pull off the corpse's armor, fastening it around the rags the guards had us prisoners wear. "Ugh, this one is locked," Ralof grumbles. I turn to see him inspecting an iron gate. He strides to the wooden one on the opposite side, but shakes his head in frustration.

"No way to open this from our side," he tells me, turning his back on it. I am about to reply when figures catch my eyes. I dart into the cover of the entrance, listening as Ralof shouts in surprise. The sounds of scuffling reaches my ears, and I ready my axe.

Unnecessary, as it turns out, for Ralof is done with them before I can help. Wiping his brow, gestures to the Imperials. "Maybe one of them had the key." I make a face before searching them, tucking away the various weapons I find along the way.

Triumphantly I hold up a key. Ralof grins. "See if you can unlock that door." He runs to the iron bars impatiently. I hesitate, glancing in the direction the Imperials had come from. Maybe… I sprint down the hallway, ignoring Ralof's frustrated sigh.

I was right! I riffle through the chest, nabbing more pieces of armor, weaponry, and even gold until the dragon's roar warned me away. I return, shoving the key into the gate. To Ralof's evident relief, it opens.

"That's it!" he cries, sheathing his swords. "Come on, let's get out of here before the dragon brings this whole tower down on our heads!" We dart down the stairs as if the dragon himself were behind us. I catch a glimpse of people down the opposite hallway, but before they were identified as friend or foe, the roof collapsed between us.

Ralof yelled something, but amidst the crashing of the stone I couldn't make it out. I trembled as the dust finally settled. "Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy," he mutters as he inspects the rubble, which completely blocked the hallway.

Then his gaze slides towards the door. A conversation is audible from behind it. We lock eyes as he opens the door. The battle – two of us, two of them – is short. Ralof looks around, commenting, "A storeroom. See if you can find any potions."

I sheathe my swords before glancing around. I scrounge for food and potions, pocketing the wine as an afterthought. If I get out of here alive, there are plenty of people who buy wine. Even if I, personally, despise the drink.

Once I'm done, I approach Ralof. "Done? Let's get moving!" I nod as he opens the door. We make our way down until we reach a room. "By gods – a torture room!" I hang back as Ralof charges the mage. Looking around, I note two other Stormcloaks.

Ralof questions them afterwards as I raid the torture room. The locks are easy, and I am rewarded with gold and spell books. The Stormcloaks have run on, forcing me to sprint to catch up. There are cells lining this hall, the smell of corpses causing me to hiss with distaste.

We reach an area where the wall seems blasted through, revealing an underground tunnel. I hesitate, but the three Nords charge through. A sigh of exasperation escapes me as I follow, crinkling my nose against the dank odor.