A/N: Hey there! Finally got chapter one in. Forgive me for any spelling and grammar mistakes. I was kind of too eager to post this chapter. I will find any I see and correct them but if you noticed any feel free to let me know.

As for the chapter itself, it may feel that nothing really happened plotwise, but that was intentional. I will spend the first few chapters introducing most of the POV characters and write the exposition. After that, the story will progress.

Also I have a basic idea how to organize the plot. Without spoiling, let's say there's four overall arcs in the story. The first one will basically cover the beginning parts of the Dragonborn's (And of the POV characters could be him at this point.) as well as setting the basis for the other parts of the story. (Essentially, the dragonborn story won't be the only important thing going on.) And expect a new chapter around once a week. Though there may be occasions it will take longer than that but that will be my goal.

Lastly, any reviews and feedback, positive or negative, is well appreciated.

The Twenty-Eight of Last Seed

Hallgvir slowly moved towards a stag blissfully unaware of him. He was crouched, using the flora of the forest to his advantage. For a few hours he stalked this same stag, waiting for his chance. The animal faced away from Hallgvir as it ate a leaf off a twig. Hallgvir was careful not to step on any twigs or do anything to alter his prey. When he got close enough, he drew his bow, mumbled a quick prayer to Kyne, he drew an arrow and pulled it onto the bow before he released it. It quickly hit the stag in the thigh but did not killed it. It yelped and ran as far as it could away from Hallgvir.

"Damnit." he muttered as he walked towards the direction his prey went. He did not need to run after it. The stag left a trail of blood. It would bleed out eventually. While he was walking, he took time to look around the massive forest, where an endless sea of trees surrounded him. "Beautiful" he thought.

He continued to track his prey from the blood-trail. After a while, he could faintly hear the stag in pain. He crouched again and slowly moved towards the sound's source. He eventually found the stag, alive, limping. Hallgvir once again drew his bow, muttered another prayer to Kyne as he released an arrow, hitting the stag on its right side of its ribs. It did not go down to Hallgvir's amazement. It ran away, if slower than last time. Once again the hunter walked where the trail lead.

It would take around ten minutes before Hallgvir caught up with the stag. It was laying on the ground in seeming pain, yet still lives.

"How are you still alive?" He asked. He got closer to the stag, it could not get up. It looked at Hallgvir in his eyes. It was like in pity. Hallgvir felt guilt somewhere, and placed one more arrow to the stag's head to end his misery. He muttered another prayer to Kynne. He opened a leather bag, pulled out a butcher's knife, and began skinning the animal's corpse...

Twenty-Eight of Last Seed, Helgen.

"Skagnolf!" Shouted an almost distant voice. "Skagnolf! Wake up! Get you're ginger ass up! You're not dying today!"

Skagnolf slowly regained his conscious and woke up to find himself in some building. It was crowded with his fellow Stormcloaks, many of whom were wounded in various degrees. Ralof was right by him. "Called me a ginger ya little shit?" He said. He eyed Ralof before they both chuckled.

"Now's not the time for laughter" Said a deep voice that spoke with a sense of stoic authority. Skagnolf woke up to find Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak standing over him; free from the bindings the Imperials forced on him. he wore an armor made from a bear and appeared to be massive, even for a Nord. Skagnolf immediately crossed his arms on his chest, a nordic way to salute or honor someone.

"It is an honor My Jarl." he said. "If only we met at better circumstances." He got up slowly; he still felt pain from falling from the gallow. "But what in the name of Shor happened" he after all, did not see what caused all of this.

The Jarl looked at Skagnolf for a second, his face appeared stoic.

"A beast of the sky fell upon Helgen and burned the town to the ground. It's still here, burning anything it can see. It's why we're stuck in this damn tower."

"Not just a beast my Jarl" said a Stormcloak that looked even older than Colnjar. "it's a dragon. My pap told me of the stories."

"Why would there be a dragon?" asked Ralof. "They haven't been seen since the days of Talos."

"Did they even existed?" said a Stormcloak that looked like he was still in his teens.

"Such ignorance. said the old Stormcloak. "They are not myths. They are legends. The very legends that shaped us as a people."

Ulfric looked sharply at the old man. "Legends don't burn down villages" he said. He looked around all of the people in the tower. "Arguing about dragons will not get us out of this shithole. What we ought to do is get out of this forsaken place when we get a chance. Our best chance would be waiting for whatever this beast, dragon or not, leave. We will make our escape then."

"My Jarl" Said Ysella; seemingly coming out of nowhere. "We should leave now while the Imperials are still distracted. If leave after that thing leaves, we may have to deal with those bastards."

Ulfric walked right to her, sternly eyeing her. His face did not give amusement.

"I'd much rather deal with them than the beast" he said. "Leave now and we'll get noticed by the dragon. We're too large a group to avoid detection. When this is all over, Helgen's garrison will either be annihilated or too weak to stop us. As long as this tower does not collapse on us, waiting is our best choice."

Ysella had a strange and nervous look on her face. "But..."

Ulfric snapped. "There is no debate." He did not yell, but his point was made clear to them all.

Skagnolf was amused Ysella would did what she done. Especially coming from the same girl that was avidly supportive of Jarl Ulfric. Nevertheless, no one else dared to question Ulfric. Skagnolf waited as he heard the violent roar of the dragon descends on the village, continuing burning everything in it's path. He prayed to the gods it doesn't attack the tower.

Twenty-Eight of Last Seed.

Hallgvir rode his white horse onto the nearby village. What was left of his stag was within a bag strapped onto the horse. The village, known as Riverwood, only had about a hundred inhabitants as far as Hallgvir knew. Strangely it was surrounded by a wall despite being a mere village. It sat along the White River; which flowed through the eastern half of Whiterun Hold. Hallgvir continued through the gates and trotted through Riverwood until he found what he was looking for: a butcher's shop with the imaginary name of "Elnof's Meat." Hallgvir was amused and chuckled. How clever. he thought. He dismounted his horse and grabbed the bag of stag meat from the saddle before walking into the store. Inside were piece of meat from all kinds of animals native to this region of Skyrim. Some were cooked, others yet to be cooked. There is even a body of a deer; waiting to be butchered.

As he walked in, a rather frail nord at the counter immediately turned.

"Good evening to you!" he said. He then looked at Hallgvir for a second. "Hallfvir? By Shor it's been a while!"

Hallgvir nodded. "Indeed Elnof. And you still kept the name to your store."

Elnof slightly grinned. "I don't need an original name Hallgvir. If it ain't broke don't fix it."

Hallgvir nodded again. "Fair point." he said. Arguin about the name of a building was never worth the time to him. "Regardless it's been a while. Haven't been here because the spring and summer was nice and plenty of game to be had. But atlas, summer is no longer. Winter is coming and I ought to be prepared.

Elnof looked at Hallgvir almost cockeyed. "It's still Last Seed Hallgvir."

Hallgvir looked eyed Elnof. Is he serious? "The last days of summer then. It does not matter." He placed the bag on the butcher's counter cattle released it of its contents. "This is a stag or what's left of it. I settled myself with enough rabbits to feed my family for the day. But I'm willing to sell you all this meat. Should be enough to feed a whole family for a day. Maybe even two."

Elnof looked at the meat for a minute contemplating. "Twenty septims."

Hallgvir's eyes were wide open. Is this damn fool out of his mind? he thought. Bastard is trying to rip me off. "The stag is worth way more than that Elnof. Sixty Septims."

Elnof looked susiciously at Hallgvir. "Fine, thirty."

Hallgvir was still not impressed. "Sixty." he restated.

Elnof looked rather impatient. "Thirty Five."

That was barely an improvement. Hallgvir thought. "I'll compromise for you; Fifty septims."

Elnof grew more anxious. "How about Forty?" He asked.

Hallgivr shook his head. He will lower the price one last time. "Forty Five septims. You can take it or I'll find somewhere else to sell this. Or maybe I'll use the food for myself then."

it looked like Elnof gave in to the pressure. "Fine. Forty Five septims." He grabbed and counted gold pieces of silver and copper with the apparent face of the Tiber Septim, founder of the Septim empire, and placed it in a leather bag.

Hallgvir grabbed the bag. "Nice doing business with you. I'll come back with something better next week. With that he left the butcher's shop.

Twenty-Eight of Last Seed, Helgen

Metiros Tullius stood in the Thane's courtyard rallying as much men as possible while what's left of the town frantically rushing to the barracks. The situation became hectic. One moment, the end to the rebellion was in sight. Now, chaos. Complete chaos. This monster that came from the sky had essentially destroyed Helgen. Tullius had seen the burnt corpses of both soldier and civilian alike. And the vile beast is not even done. Archers tried to shoot it with arrows to no avail. The few mages Metiros had could not bring it down with their magic. The infantry were practically useless; so they were ordered to protect the town's people. Or what were left of them.

The beast flew around the burning remains of Helgen. it was like it was flaunting its victory. To Metiros' horror it flew down right at the courtyard and landed. Some of his men broke and cowered into the barracks. Those who remained Frantically attacked the beast; which did not seemed affected at all. In fact, it laughed. It laughed. the general thought in horror. It then literally spoke in a language Metiros never even heard off before in a menacing and taunting tone. It shouted in that same tongue and fire bursted out of its mouth; incinerating almost all in its path. Metiros rushed towards the barracks. He barely got in and shut the door right as the fire poured onto it. Only Metiros and a few others had survived that encounter.

Metiros was truly shaken. I almost died. he thought. He had to quickly regain his composure however. He is a commander of the Imperial Legion. Breaking now would break whatever little morale the soldiers had. The beast continued to roar as the ground shaked and the building felt like it could collapse at any moment.

"Commander Tullius." Said a an odd accent that was a fusion of Colovian and Nordic; typical of the Falkreath tone. Metiros turned to see a tall bald nord. "Name's Rorlou. I command Helgen's garrison. Or so I used to. A shame we must meet like this.

Metiros nodded. Indeed it is. "This beast is not to be trifled with." He said. "I heard it spoke. Whatever it is, it's clearly intelligent. We must warn Solitude but unfortunately we are stuck."

Rorlou slightly smirked at Metiros. "Not so commander" he said. "There is a escape route through the building. Through the dungeons. It will lead us through a cave and we'll be a good distance away from the monster. The gods have blessed us today."

Metiros felt a great sense of relief. Suddenly, parts of the ceiling collapsed from the monster's bombardment. He looked at Rorlou. "What are you waiting for? Get all the survivors ready and let's get the fuck out of here before this whole place collapses on us."

Rorlou merely nodded and walked away. "But sir" said an Imperial soldier. "What about other survivors outside?"

Metiros looked at the soldier, whom looked rather young. "Chances are, everyone that didn't made it here is dead." He said. "Even if some out there still lives. It's not worth risking more lives."

The soldier had a grim and sorrowful expression. "Yes sir." and walked to the escape route. Metiros sighed for what happened today. If Ulfric survived this, this war will continue. And if more of these things are out there, then this wasteland is truly doomed. He walked towards the escape route.

Twenty-Ninth of Last Seed, 4E 201.

Hallgvir's horse trotted towards a cabin in the woods; Riverwood would only been a mile away from here. Home sweet home. thought Hallgvir. He had spent the night at Riverwood. During that span, he had spent Twenty of the Forty-Five septims he haggled on the tavern. To say he was hungover would be a huge understatement. Karlith won't like this one bit. He stumbled off of his horse and fell on his face. He got up and slugged his way towards the door; opening it and collapsing his way onto the floor.

"Hallgvir!" shouted a feminine voice in the White-Plain accent. Hallgvir looked up to see his own wife, Karlith, looking at him in utter confusion.

Hallgvir slowly got up. If she found out he spent money on a tavern, she would be furious. Best make a good lie fast if she get suspicous. "Karlith, the past two days have been very tiresome for me. Can I rest?" He plotted down on a queen-sized bed settled across from the door.

However, Karlith looked sternly at Hallgvir. "Your breath smells like goat piss." she said. "You have been drinking have you?"

Hallgivr turned sideways, facing away from Karlith. He silently cursed himself. "What kind of nord doesn't drink?"

Karlith only moved right to Hallgvir's front; and looked straight at his eyes. "Perhaps wasting septims on drinking when we need to save on them is a very bad idea." she said in a bitter sounding tone.

Now I need to think of one quick. Hallgvir thought. In a second he found his excuse. He rolled his eyes at Karlith. "I didn't waste my own money on drinking my dear Karlith." he said. "My good friend Alvor was glad to see me. It's been a while. All the drinks were on him."

Karlith's face still had a suspicious expression. "You were gone two days. I'm sure if you didn't spend the money you have it with you right now..."

Hallgvir sighed as he lazily got up on the bed. He opened his traveling pack to reveal the bag of septims. "Only twenty-five Septims." He tossed the bag to Karlith who caught with ease. "There wasn't much game. Seems as summer ends, the creatures become less common. Maybe they're getting ready for winter as well?" he said while giving a slight chuckle.

Karlith still looked suspicious, but she seemed to finally give in. "Ok." she said in a distrustful tone. "I'll get supper ready."

The Twenty-Ninth of Last Seed, Helgen.

Corvus Sendo woke up to find himself trapped in burnt wood and rubble. He felt soreness all over his body as he struggled to push the debris off of him. After what felt like minutes, he heard someone running towards him and one by one, the pieces of the debris that imprisoned him were removed. the man that freed him was a Imperial Legionnaire much like Corvus. Though unlike Corvus, the person was a nord, likely native to Skyrim. His comrade offered him his hand. Malaxius did not hesitate to grab onto it and get off the ground.

"Your name?" Corvus asked.

The nord looked at Corvus with a face that seen too much. "Hadvar." he replied.

"Corvus" he replied. Corvus then looked around him. Helgen was utterly destroyed by that beast from the sky. By the gods. Corvus thought. luckily whatever that thing was, was gone.

"It left a while ago" said Hadvar. "It went North."

Corvus felt uneasy. If the thing is still alive "I don't know what that monster is, but it just killed an entire village. It needs to be killed before it burns more people.

Hadvar's expressions grew more dark. "You don't know what is do you Corvus? I've read the stories. From the tales of Ysgramor to the days of Talos, that was a dragon."

A dragon? Corvus thought. They haven't been seen since the dawn of the Third Era. "They haven't been seen since centuries. If that's really a dragon, where has it been hiding? Why?"

Hadvar looked to be in utter confusion. "That I do not know."

No shit. thought Corvus. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. What matters now is sending out a warning. Did you find any survivors?"

Hadvar shooked his head sideways. "I've searched the ruins. No one alive besides us. I didn't see Ulfric Stormcloak's corpse so I'm guessing he's alive. Same for General Tullius."

"Good" replied Corvus. Even if Ulfric is among the survivors, having a common threat may knock some sense into him. "We should head to Falkreath and warn Jarl Siddgeir. That should be a good start."

Hadvar looked at Corvus with disapproval. "No. With something as dire as dragons returning coming, then we need to go North to Solitude and warn the Imperial command there."

Corvus disagreed with this. "No. Solitude is too far from here. Will take at least two months on safe travel with a couple of horse. But we have no horses and Stormcloaks and brigands surely stalk the roads to the capital. If we even make it there, it could take months."

"Then we'll find some horses." replied Hadvar. "Plenty throughout Skyrim. And what makes you think the road to Falkreath is any safer?"

Now's not a good time to argue. thought Corvus. "Are you ignoring that Solitude is farther away than Falkreath. The road there may not be safe as well; but going there means we can warn people of a dragon quicker."

"We can still warn people on the way to the capital" retorted Hadvar.

"The fucking dragon flew north!" shouted Corvus. "It didn't flew West! People up North will see the beast. That's why Jarl Siddgeir will be oblivious unless someone tells him what truly happened."

Hadvar's became more and more frantic. "But what if he doesn't believe us?"

Corvus grew more suspicious. He sounds desperate to go North. Why? His expression grew cold and hard. "Hadvar. Why do you truly want to go to Solitude?" he asked sternly.

Hadvar began to sweat. "I think it's better to inform the command rather than Jarl Sidd..."

"Bullshit." snapped Corvus. He could tell from his face he's lying. "Why do you want to to Solitude?"

It seemed Hadvar cracked. "My... My home is North of here. The same direction the dragon went. Before I was conscripted to the Legion, I lived in a village around The White Hold and Falkreath's border. I fear the dragon may find it and burn it."

Hadvar may have said more but Corvus heard enough. "You swore a service to the Empire.." he said.

"I was conscripted!" shouted Hadvar. "I had no choice to fight my own kin! Unlike you cyrodiil!" He closed his eyes and sighed. "My home is all I know Corvus. I just want to go there. Warn them of the dragon. I just to see my family. It may be the last time I'll ever will..." Hadvar then stood silent, his head looking down.

Corvus could sympathise of Hadvar. While a legionnaire serves the Empire first and foremost, many of the Legion's masses have family back where they hailed. Corvus knew few of them may truly choose the Empire they serve over the ones they love.

"Fine." he said. "You can go to your home. But I will not come with you. Whether you will serve the Legion or desert is not my concern." He did not wait for Hadvar to respond. He turned and went for the town's gate and walked west. He now had a mission.