A/N: I have played a good amount of Skyrim and thought through many playthroughs using skills and powers from one end to the next. I have read my share of fanfics of the game it if as well. Most are interesting but never explain much in the way of why the Dragonborn is at the base level of all things. The man or woman is in his late twenties at the least and forties at the most and by that time the only way you can get through life in this world is by some form a labor to make you stronger then you are in the beginning. If your an elf you should know more spells than given or if your an orc getting you bounds undone should be next to child's play. I tried to make this more literal and make sense of the game logic with a mixture of more realism as well. Things you would think you would expect instead of accepting things as is. The greatest Quote I will ever go with it "Why the Fuck not" and for most of my stories this will be the aim for it.

CH.1: RESTRAINTS

There was a time when I found that getting thrown into insane misadventures were fun that is until I took on a century as a mortal of high regard. Sometimes I would wake up in different times or different bodies only to find out that I was dreaming all along. To find out that my mind was just regressing to take pressure off of the body like I always wanted to. Maybe I am crazy and haven't lived that long to begin with. Maybe all the memories swimming in my head right now never existed and are only a fragment of my imagination. Maybe just maybe, but the founders of the mind right now do not matter. I had the most throbbing pain ever in the back of my skull, at my ribs, my right upper shoulder, and my left ankle. It all hurt as if I was stomped repeatedly by boots from a berserking orc or something.

When I tried to move my hands I found out quickly that they are bound with no way for me to undo them unless I have a blade of some sort that can cut metal or the key. I opened my eyes to golden tanned skin. I had slightly skinnier wrists than I remembered as well. My clothing if you can call the putrid rags that I have on clothing are nothing but peasant potato sack trousers and a short sleeved shirt thought with how tall my kind are this looked atrocious on me. Who in the nine divine would do this to me and why?

Last I remember I was… there it is, the small memories that help me find out just what and where I am. I know I am in the country of Skyrim the native home of the nords. Cold and harsh this land is known for as well as for its hardy people and primitive culture that revolves around the use of sword and shield, but for some reason I find the way they used it to be close to barbaric. But what else can I expect from the nord? What they have in their resiliency they lost in the area of class in the way they dress and operate. If I could I would melt or smelt these cuffs off of me but sadly I find my magicka to be studded by something. Enchanted cuffs and by the enchant sigil on the side they are of imperial Empire make and origin used on the most dangerous of magicka endowed prisoners and enemies of the state. Why are these cuffs on me to begin with? What have I done to be treated with such disrespect as to be left magicka-less and dressed in these…? Things!

"Hey are you awake?" I looked up from my bindings to the sound of the voice to the face of a nord. It was blurry still, my vision I mean after all I did take a Talos knows what to the head and to my knee. It hurts a lot and I can barely use my most basic of healing spells to fix the damage or at the very least null the pain. Damn cuffs and no pick to get these things open. Even though I haven't picked a lock in a long time I can still manage it, but then again it suddenly became bad luck to do it so I haven't bothered with it.

Sneaking into a cave and picking a lock only for my pick to click when it broke loudly thus causing a nest of vampires behind me to wake up in the middle of the day when they are at their most aggravated too was really bad luck. My magic in the end was depleted from the arsenal of fire spells I had and used to kill most of them. I wasn't even good at fire based destruction magical in the first place because lightning magic is where I have usually kept a good portion of the mana pool free for to combat my enemies. I ran out using magicka I wasn't used to using and in the end I was so sorry for neglecting for so long. I learned my lesson a little I think, because after that incident I learned the most basic of fire spells to torrent a good amount of fire through the palm of my hand out to my fingers. This basic spell has helped me through many instances already from melting my way through a locking mechanism or out of a jail cell. I would do it now if I could and not on a locking mechanism either. I would use it to melt the brains of the man at the head of the carriage then escape out of here though I don't know where I am right now so maybe I should wait until I do exactly. I just know the country you are in is as useful as a spell without magicka to use it.

My vision started to clear up until I could see the faces around me more clearly. I saw a man with messy unruly dark blonde hair that I am surprised I can tell with the mountain of dirt in his locks. A braid was in the front of his head to the left that fall over his ear down to his shoulders. The look in his eyes are bleak and darkened from more than likely at least three or so days without sleep and without stopping. By the looks of his rope like bindings he was as much of a prisoner as I was. Same with the other nords around me that are as bounded as I am. Well, not as much as I am because I am bound in more than one way. I can't feel my mana pool at all, lucky them and smart of such barbarians as well. They put the ropes on the warriors and the cuffs on the elf. Of course such bigotry will be thrown at me in such a way in the land of Skyrim. Even more now with the whole Thalmor and banning of Talos worship in the world. Even myself as one of the more "bulky" ones of my used to be fellow Thalmor are thrown into this until the end and suffer the most innate sort of pressure like this.

"Are you alright." I sneered at the almost worried tone the Nordic man had in his voice. A...Thalmorish sort of sneer if I do say so myself. The nord seemed to be a little but off by my dismissal of his concern not that I really cared all that much, but I have learned from the best the world has to offer on the proper etiquettes on how to treat those that I have yet to meet. It's best to develop a good standing and judgment in the first place.

I leaned myself up a little from my crouched over position. "I could be better." I reached up and touched the beating part of my head for something in regard for the pain on my head.

"Whoa, easy you took quite the hit not too long ago."

A hit is putting it lightly especially on an Altmer like myself. I feels like I took more than just a hit from whoever did this to me. "More like a beating," I grumbled.

"I supposed so, they did pile on top of you and beat you with the fight you put up, damn Imperials." The nord sighed tirelessly then gave me a look of approval for the apparent fight I put up. "Not bad for an elf."

"Not bad?" The next man to talk was to my right and a nord as well just like the rest of the men in the carriages with me. He wasn't as bulky as the blonde man or as exhausted looking as well. Unlike the warrior nord with the blonde hair this one looked to be weaker in not only body but in mind as well. He was shaking and quivering like a coward and so filthy as well. Even more compared to the warrior nord in front of me. I growled and got tired of wallowing in my own ignorance quickly. I hate not knowing anything like where I am, who I am, and what in Akatosh am I doing here. "This damn elf is the reason why we were smacked down so hard in the first place!"

I myself look taken back from such a scandalous admission in the most mock way I could. "Me," I pulled my hands to my chest pointing to it as well. "I did such a thing?" My dense act made the nord growl at me to which I snort lightly at his lack of clasp.

"You killed at least five men and wounded at least ten!"

"Did I?"

"Yes you stupid elf you did! You boiled a man's brains in his skull for Talos' sake!"

"Not to mention the way you fought with a blade. You must be former..."

"Hey, be quiet back there." The carriage driver yelled back to the nords that persisted to raise their voices loud enough to get the attention of Imperial Empire nords around us. I sneered again to the nords around me and went back to my predicament.

"Oy, nord." I called to the blonde one in some sort of uniform armor colored blue at the chest made for the most part our of leather and fur for the atmosphere of Skyrim. The norm rose his head and regarded me with low patience. I rose my hands and showed him my cuffs. "Do you know who has the key to these?" The nord huffed and gestured to his right behind the carriage. I saw a man riding a nag so nothing out of the ordinary. I peered my eyes at the man's body and equipment then saw the pommel of the horseman's sword and the seal on top. "General Tullius," I sighed, "of course."

The highest ranking man in the Empire's Skyrim station. This might not be as easy as I thought it could be sadly. I have long arms and deft hands but when surrounded by at least twenty of so Imperial soldiers and the key I need happens to be one the general himself might make things difficult. If only I could just get these cuffs off but something tells me that isn't happening anytime soon.

"Damn you and you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If it wasn't for you I would be half way to Hammerfell with that horse I stole." I snort again which the horse thief noticed. "I shouldn't even be here as for you," the thief glared at me, "you kill men like the rest of your crazy kind do." A horse thief of all things along with Stormcloaks here of all places.

That means this caravan is on its way to one of three places: A court for us to get an unfair trial and then sent to the noose or chop block here in Skyrim, a prison where we will rot for thirty or so days and then get that "fair" trail and then meet the hang man or the chop block, or we could be going straight to the chop block without any trial to speak of to eliminate all of us in one go. I just hope it isn't the latter because I have a chance if we get a trial and if I do get the call to be executed the Thalmor will interfere and kill me themselves by way of magical fire which I prefer over the headman's chock block any day.

Getting killed by a bunch of nords is not the way I plan on dying and will not die if I have a chance. I prefer to die by the way of a savage animal or an inhuman daedra instead at least it will be oblivion's hands that cause my pass instead of normal mortal man. Not sure if you can call it pride or foolishness but in my opinion death should come from those that are greater than you not lesser and I am arrogant enough to say that I am not lesser than anyone around me. Blame being part of the Thalmor for that part of me. They tell you enough propaganda to make you believe that you are the chosen race descended from the Aedra above.

I rolled my neck and felt a click and did it hurt. They must have knocked me on the back of the head once or twice. If I put up as big as a fight as I heard they must have done the Empire thing and starved me for days after they broke my body during the scrap. My body thanks to the ring I have on accelerates my own natural healing factor. I am surprised that they left me my ring then again it is enchanted to returned to me just like the Wabbajack; or so I heard from legends about the Hero of Kvatch who apparently disappeared into the Shivering Isle never to return but the Wabbajack seemed to follow him to oblivion and back, or so the rumor went. I wanted a ring to do that and something practical enough for me to use whenever. Too bad I didn't have the means to use it on my clothing but dealing in soul gems, especially black ones, is tricky and hard to get your hands onto. A ring for body instead of magic, no wonder I had to leave the Order for such heresy. Magic is all after all.

"We are all brother and sisters in binds now thief."

"I said shut up back there!"

The horse thief clicked his tongue at the imperial soldier and turned his attention to the man next to me. "What's with him and the gag?"

"Watch your tongue thief!" The man outburst made me regard the man next to me with a little more curiosity than warrant. He looked to be of sort of noble likeness with the way he dressed despite the fact that it's covered in as much dirt and grime as the Stormcloak nord's. He looked more tired than the Stormcloak nord and his mouth was indeed gagged to prevent him from making any sort of comprehensible words for some reason. "This man is the true High king of Skyrim, Uldric Stormcloak."

I groaned and palmed my face with my hands. The third option it is I suppose. Straight to the block we go, damn it.

"Uldric, the Jarl of Windhelm, leader of the rebellion?" Who else could it be? "If they captured you… Oh gods where are they taking us."

"To the block Nord is it that hard to figure out?" I answered with my face still buried into my hands. "If this man is Uldric Stormcloak we are all going straight to the block you stupid Nordic horse's ataah and if you are confused that means ass."

"The elf is right," the Stormcloak admitted with a look up to the sky. "Where we are going thief, Sonverngard awaits."

"N-no this can't be happening," the thief cried shivering in place. "This can't be happening."

"What village are you from?"

I looked down remembering nothing when it comes to my home at all. I have a life of traveling from one faction to the next, from one town to the next, and from one dangerous adventure to the next always moving and always finding more and more people to put in the circle, that is until I had to run away. Skyrim was the last and only place to escape only for something like this to happen to me. I break my back literally to establish my newest clean slate hoping to get some form of peace and quiet here in brutal, unforgiving Skyrim. I supposedly asked the daedra and Aedra for too much in this case to throw me to the dragons like this. I say dragons because the Empire still uses the mythical dragon as its symbol and try to model themselves as them even though the last of the Septim line died out during the Oblivion Crisis when he became a dragon and pushed the daedric prince of destruction Mehrunes Dagon back into his realm of Oblivion.

Dragons and those descended from them, what a laugh. I can believe the dragons exist having seen the bones of one in the desert of Elsweyr and in Hammerfell, but that is it. Just bones and not much else in the place they rest without the hands of mortal men to touch them. A place they call home. Something I find myself turning dark tan with envy, a place you can call home to which you can always return to in time.

I listened carefully to the horse thief when he was about to answer. "Rorikstead, I'm from Rorikstead." I have never heard of this place before or really cared to right now. I suppose I should with all that is about to happen soon enough. I have, as a High Elf born proudly in Summerset Isle, never had as most could say is a dull life. Never a quiet and easy moment for it was full of traveling, training, bartering, fighting, or just whatever a scholar like me could do. Now that I look back have I ever been worried I would die? Yes, I have after all what mortal does not fear the unknown and death is unknown to us. Even me who has lived on the edge only for it to be taken from me. My body felt so heavy and tired right now and my mind so full scattered thoughts that I knew eventually I will begin slipping soon.

My mind... They performed the annulment on my mind. My mind felt do empty right now with only base memories and thoughts not skills, abilities, or even my spells. I can remember maybe three at the most but those three are ones I have had since birth. Destruction and Restoration. Fire, lightning, and healing but on their most basic level. They had to do it to control and shackle. They annulled my mind taking away every single power and ability that I had along with my physical abilities with how they treated me. I was literally back to square one. I had to be sure though. I had to ask someone.

"Nord," I called to the Stormcloak Nord.

"Elf," he returned in kind making this more and more amusing as well.

"When the Imperials captured me did they have a wizard do anything to me?"

The Nord blinked for a couple minutes and nodded. "Yes they had a wizard with them that had glowing hands."

I bit back a curse and continued on. "Did he touch any part of my body? Any at all?" My heart sank when he shook his head.

"No he just held them toward and you glowed."

"Imperial dogs!" Even the horse rider behind and carriage driver in front of us jumped at my sudden curse on every single one of them. Everything was gone from my mana pools to my stamina it was all taken from me and locked away in the recess of my mind or striped from me fully period. All that work and studying for nothing only for some fool of an Imperial to take away! That which made me the Force of Destruction that I am or was now. Right back to square one as I thought.

"Hey I thought..."

"Quiet DOG!" the carriage driver jumped back out of his seat falling over on top of the horse that way hauling us all. The last thing an Imperial right now should do is bad mouth or talk to me with anything less that the utmost decency for I am absolutely livid right now. A full-bodied act of annulment done on me just for I guess defending myself from an Imperial charge. Or maybe just being in the wrong place at the wrong time but either way I was seeing red and more than willing to melt the first sniveling dog that gets in front of me right now. Even my mana responded to my anger glowing in the palms of my hands turning them red hot like smoldering coals though these cuffs aren't made to pacify magicka for nothing. I could only hold what should be a torrent of flames for a couple seconds, almost a minute, at the most until the redness faded away and I felt more tired than before. Must be the adrenaline beginning to fade away from my body that drained me so harshly. I sighed and slumped my seat.

"What's with him?" The thief asked only to receive silence as an answer from his fellow Nord for one couldn't even tell and the other couldn't even talk. I zoned out the rest of what happened or what was said until we reach a large gate in the distance. I had a bad feeling about this. This ride, this town, and this headsman block that I heard the lookout above mention as we passed the gates. I rubbed the bridge of my nose with my left hand at the mention of the divine by the horse thief and kicked him.

"Ah, damn you elf."

"The Divine do not help horse thieves Nord for that is the domain of Oblivion. Asking the divine right now to aid you might have caused your death to come faster than before now." The horse thief was now spooked and more frightened than before. Nords have always been a little too superstitious for their own good and for good reason as well seeing that with the rumors of ghosts and walking corpses a man starts to believe more in the life after death concept much more than before.

"Look, there." I looked as the Stormcloak Nord had said and saw a man with three of my fellow Altmer behind him. "General Tullius, the governor of the Imperial power here in Skyrim and the Thalmor right behind him as well. Damn elves I wager they had something to do with this. No offense elf."

I snort again. Calling me "elf" and saying "no offense" as well was sort of contradicting but I doubt this man even knows what contradict even means. "Whether or not I take offense matters not Nord for as you said 'Sovngarde awaits'."

"You don't seemed worried about this fact," the Nord commented on to which just looked up the sun and the sky.

"Why worry about the enviable Nord if you know it is going to happen."

"I… I suppose that is true."

I looked around the town not really impressed with the accommodations at all. "Where are we Nord, do you know?"

"This, this is Helgen."

"Helgen?"

"Yes," the Nord said with a quick look around the town as if he was searching for something. "You know I used to be sweet on a girl from here," the Nord began with one of the first stages to up and coming death or demise. "I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in." The Nord adopted a sad smile as his eyes looked back to the growing crowd of people behind us. "Funny," he chuckled, "when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Why are you telling me this?" I knew the answer already but I suppose the Nord didn't know himself to which he just blinked and shook his head without answering.

"I like to think that the death of every living being in existence comes in due time." I begin getting the attention of the Nordic men in the carriage with me. "That due time weighs heavily on a few things." I rose my hands the lifted a single finger. "Your karma for one, whether you did good in this world or bad and just who did you do your deed for." I rose a second finger. "How determined you are to survive another day and move on in life." I rose my third and last finger. "And who or what you aligned yourself with in the majority of your time in this plane. Sometimes the gods above and in oblivion call for your death early or bring you up until you reach elder years."

"And what do you believe elf?"

"Hm?"

"Are you determined to survive? Do you wish to live? Have you cleared your "karma" as you said?"

I took a breath and let it fall along with my hands. "I know my time is not yet done and I will not die here. I will survive and kill anything the gets in my way. How about you Nord? Have you resigned yourself to your fate yet?" The Nord went silent as the carriage came to its end.

"This is it," I resounded with a firm grip of my hands.

"No wait please I am not a rebel!" The thief announced on deft ears as we stepped one by one off of the carriage.

"Face your death with some courage thief."

"I agree," I said next jumping off of the wood to now hard stone. My legs felt wobbly and unsteady at best almost forcing me over. I grunted trying to force my body to control itself and be more dignified than this. Slowly my legs responded and I stood to my full height standing over most of the men and women around me. I looked up and saw a Red Guard woman in imperial captain armor awaiting us all too fully dismount but what I noticed the most was the little talk she and the General were having at the moment. I saw a little transition of keys from his hand to her hand and a nod a second later. The General stepped back gesturing over to me for the captain to notice the lone High elf in the group.

"Now step towards the block when we call your name one at a time. Do not try anything for archer as every angle from high to low are trained on to you so run is you thing you will make it but just now an arrow to the back is a slower death than a chop of the head." The woman I will admit had that sort of tough girl thing down and was being intimidating as well, not that I was afraid. The way she eyed me up like a freshly smoked oxen or whatever they eat here in Skyrim is nothing compared to the yellow hate filled gaze of a lich.

A man, another nord, in imperial leather armor walked up with a parchment in hand. He opened it and call, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." The man mumble behind his gag and stepped forward. His Stormcloaks all said their goodbyes. "Ralof of Riverwood." The nord from before stepped forward and walked out to join Ulfric next to the block. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" I sighed and just watched as he made a run for it. "You're not gonna kill me!" The captain rose her hand and a couple archers from the towers above took aim at the horse thief. She let her hand fall and in seconds four arrows pierced the thief's body and he fell. A slow and painful death indeed.

"Now," the Captain turned back to me being the last to be named off. "Anyone else want to run because now's your chance!" I felt the arrows above and below point toward me.

"Wait," the imperial nord said. "You there, step forward." I did as ordered and approached closer to the nord. "Who are you?"

I cleared my throat. "A high elf for one nord."

"I can see that but what is your name elf?" The man was calm and composed surprisingly for a nord and an imperial soldier.

"I have no name currently not that I matters nord."

The man accepted that the looked to the captain. "You are not of the Thalmor Embassy though, are you sure you have no name to speak of high elf?" I shook my head. "Captain what should we do? He is not on the list."

The captain frowned at me and glanced at the block. "Does matter he goes to the block as well."

"As you say… captain." The nord did not agree with this judgment but what can a soldier do other than as he is told. "I am sorry. We will make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isle."

"I guess that is something." I moved to the rest of the Stormcloak to the block and watched the key on the captain's belt move with a little jingle.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," General Tullius called as he walked over to the Jarl of Windhelm. "Some may call you a hero but a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. This war you started will end here. The Empire will put you down and restore the peace that you shattered."

KRAAHAAH!

We all heard in the distance. The sound made my skin crawl but more than that is also made the bad feeling turn into a worse feeling. "What was that?" The list reading nord asked looking out toward the mountains.

"Nothing," the general dismissed with a wave. "Carry on Captain."

"As you say General Tullius." That wasn't nothing I know that. I have heard a sound like that before because it was the sound of a roar echoing through the mountains but what I don't know is just what it was that made it. I have seen monsters of all shapes and sizes and heard the roar of so many animals but that one is new to me and I don't like new things. Every fiber of my being was telling me to run right now like a god him or herself was coming down to smite us any minute now but the rules forbid that from happening. I don't know a god that roars too so maybe I am just overreacting.

"Next is the high elf." I blinked and noticed that a body was on the ground at my feet that happened to be a former Stormcloak as well. All eyes rested on me with arrows trained on me but that didn't worry me. The roar from before resonated again in the town but louder and much closer this time. That roar was no animal that I have ever heard before. Not a troll, a werewolf, a tiger, and not even a bear. It sound much more powerful than all of those combined.

"To the block prisoner nice and easy." I looked around with my more advanced sight to the clouds above but saw nothing. I walked slowly to the block as this sound got progressively closer and closer. I looked over to the captain and sneered. "What are you smiling at high elf?"

"You captain," I let my smiled grow. "Because I will make you pay if you touch me."

The captain's eyes flashed with anger as she took me by the shoulders and forced me down to the block. It was around the time that the unthinkable happened.

Helgen was attacked by a dragon.

Short chapter but that's number one of many more to come as long as I have a drive. Got a nice review from someone with some decent points that I've tried to address. I need more though and I'm looking forward to many more to assist me in the creation of this story. Thank you for reading.