Serana

I only stayed at the castle for a week before making up my mind, I wouldn't be a pawn in my father's game. I snuck out when most of the castle's inhabitants had gone to sleep, the guards were lazy as nobody ever ventured out to our island, it wasn't hard to get by them. I only took a bow, my dagger, the Elder Scroll, a week's supply of food, a map of Skyrim, and a horse from Northwatch Keep, it was a bit more difficult than sneaking out of the castle, but the Thalmor guards wouldn't have missed it for a while.

I made my way to Solitude in just a few hours, knowing I would need help. Everybody I knew that could help me defeat my father was dead except for my mother, but I didn't have a clue where she was. The only other option was Torbin, which would require some digging. I barely knew him, but I liked to consider myself a good judge of character. He seemed as if he lacked the typical sense of honor that Nords held to, but he was honorable in his own way, and if I couldn't trust the man who'd freed me for help then there wasn't really anyone I could trust. The only issue was I had no idea where he could be, but I did remember him saying something about the Stormcloaks, so I just had to find a hold that they controlled and then maybe somebody could point me to Torbin.

"Halt!" One of the Solitude guards yelled as I approached "State your business!"

"Just passing through," I said, hoping he didn't draw his weapon on me "I'm looking from somebody."

"A pretty lady like yourself?" He asked me as I drew closer "Skyrim's a dangerous place to be traveling alone, who are you looking for?"

"His name is Torbin," I said "He's the Dragonborn, any idea where he could be?"

A dark look crossed the guard's face as he looked over his shoulder, checking if anybody else could hear him. When he was sure they couldn't, he turned back to me, leaning in close and speaking quietly.

"I don't know who you are or where you come from," He told me "But you'd be wise not to speak the traitor's name inside these walls, as for where he is, I'm not sure of that. I'd heard he took a break from the war for a time to head down to Fort Dawnguard and help with the Vampires."

So the Empire controls this hold. I noted I need to find a map, find out which side controls which holds.

"Where is this Fort Dawnguard?" I asked

"Somewhere down by Riften," He told me "As I said, do not speak his name within these walls, someone will think you're a spy."

"I'm no spy," I told him "My business with Torbin has nothing to do with your war."

He eyed me for a moment before he finally nodded, looking as if he still wasn't sure if he believed me. He allowed me to pass and I was granted access into the city. I kept the Elder Scroll wrapped up in a blanket on my back, feeling that it was safer with me. The first place I headed was the Inn, figuring that it would be the best place to gather information about Skyrim.

"Hail the Empire!" A soldier was yelling as I opened the door "A toast to our fallen!"

He lifted his mug and the entire bar echoed his cheer, throwing back their drinks and toasting. The bar was overflowing with men and women dressed in what I assumed was Imperial armor, the place stunk of alcohol and sweat. I wasn't in there for long before I learned that the Stormcloaks had total control of The Pale, Windhelm, and Falkreath. The Imperials held total control of Haafingar, The Reach, The Rift, and Winterhold. Commander Alvairek of the Stormcloaks had brought her army from Windhelm and begun a campaign to take Hjaalmarch just a few months ago, and Legate Rikke of the Imperial army had begun an assault on the outskirts of Whiterun from The Reach, also attempting to push into Falkreath.

The mountain range around Winterhold was under siege by the Stormcloaks but they weren't having much luck due to the Thalmor presence in the city and Imperial control of Dawnstar.

Lastly, I learned that Commander Torbin had rejoined his men near Dunmeth Pass and was marching south towards the Rift with a host some few thousand strong. The way soldiers in the tavern who'd met him in battle spoke of him, I was glad he hadn't tried to kill me, it sounded like a fight I very well may have lost.

"Shut it," An older looking man snapped at a younger boy "I've faced the Dragonborn in battle, you haven't. You wouldn't get your sword from your belt before he cut you down, he's like a demon on the battlefield he is."

"Just because he can shout," The other said "That doesn't make him any better with a sword than any of us, he dies just the same."

"I've cut through the three of you in the training yard a hundred times over," The old man snapped again "The Dragonborn took me eye, nearly killed me if it hadn't been for the archers who pushed him back. He doesn't miss a step when he fights, his balance is unhuman, he's faster than any man I've ever seen, and he fights meaner than those Orc berserkers in the mountain clans."

"I'd run me sword through him quick as spit," One of the boys bragged, rolling his eyes "Take away his shouts and what is he?"

"He knew how to fight before he knew how to shout, boy. Do you think he's forgotten?" The old man said sadly "You'd be dead before you knew what happened."

While they were busy arguing I snatched and slightly more updated map from the man's bag and left the city as quickly as I could, not wanting to drawn any unnecessary attention, not to mention I spotted a few vampires coming into the tavern, I thought it would be awhile before my father noticed I was gone, but I suppose you can't exactly walk out the front door with an Elder Scroll unnoticed.

Three days later

The Stormcloak camp was hard to miss, I could see it from a mile off. The banners hung high and there were thousands of them, well armed and looking eager for battle. I slowed my horse to a walk and headed down towards the camp.

The guards spotted me before I even got close, raising their weapons and advancing slowly. There was a Wood Elf with them, clearly the one in charge, who stepped forward keeping his bow drawn.

"Skyrim is less friendlier than I remember," I remarked when I got close "Torbin's the only one who didn't level a sword at me."

"These are troubling times," The Elf said "Can't be too careful, how do you know Commander Torbin?"

"Old friends," I remarked, dismounting "It's him I've come to see."

"You can't just walk in here and demand to see him," The Elf said, rolling his eyes "This is a military operation, not exactly open to civilians such as yourself."

"If he doesn't want me here, he'll tell me to leave," I hissed "Or take my head. What skin off your neck is it?"

"Go back the way you came," The Elf commanded me "If Torbin wants to see you, he'll send a rider to find you."

"Or," I countered, laying a hand on my dagger "You could run and fetch him, if he finds out I was here and you turn me away he isn't going to be happy."

"Insolent little wench aren't you?" He snapped "Have it your way then, take her!"

The others moved towards me, leveling their weapons. I couldn't kill them, Torbin wouldn't be able to protect me if I did, but I could smack them around a little I suppose. I threw an ice spike towards the elf, knocking the bow from his hand before I drew my dagger, deflecting a blow from another Stormcloak and elbowing him in the face, causing him to stagger away. Another rushed my side but I stepped aside and grabbed the top of his helmet, pulling it off and exposing his neck as I stuck my dagger to it.

This one was an Orc, which surprised me. For what little I knew about Skyrim these days, it seemed the Orcs hadn't changed much and preferred to keep to themselves. He froze, holding out his axes and keeping them where I could see them, not daring to move a muscle. His gold war paint shimmered in the morning sun, two stripes ran under his eyes and one from his bottom lip the edge of his chin. His hair was pulled back in a braid the way Orc warriors wore them and he wielded two Orisch war axes.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" A voice boomed "STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU!"

It was Torbin, although I had hardly recognized the sound of his voice. When I had met him in the crypt, it had been very kind sounding and compassionate. This voice, however, held none of those qualities. It was a battlefield voice, drowning out every other sound and echoing through the trees, the voice of a man who commanded battle hardened killers and would not stand for insubordination. Every man present froze, sheathing their weapons and stepping away.

It was strange to see. As I had noted earlier, Torbin was small as far as the typical Nords go, and most of the men before him stood a head or two taller than himself, yet they snapped to attention and stepped out of his way the moment he had ordered them to stand down. He strolled through the path they had made with the confidence of a giant, looking around as if daring any of them to disobey his order.

He was dressed differently as well, this time he wore tanned leather and thin chainmail under a blue tunic, with worn leather boots as well as a pair of gloves hanging from his belt. The axe he had been carrying in the crypt still hung at his side, but the strange sword I had seen was replaced by a simple steel sword hanging on his left, no sheath, just a simple ring of leather with a clip to keep it from sliding out.

"Buramog?" Torbin asked, surprised when he saw me "Come on, she's got a dagger and you let her beat you? You're a better fighter than that."

"She surprised me, Commander." The Orc told him

"Of course she did," He laughed "Serana, let Buramog go please and come with me. Elegvir, have her horse tended to."

"Very well." The Elf nodded, motioning to another man

"Ralof," Torbin barked "See to it everyone is prepared, we march at nightfall."