The sounds of crackling torches filled the stale, silent air.
Cura was alone with Hadvar, who was desperately trying to breathe. The sheer force of will and physical exertion the two of them had gone through would have put any Soldier to retirement, if they could.
Hadvar finally spoke. "Are you all right, prisoner?"
"I... don't even know what to make of all that." Cura sheepishly admitted. "But I will be, once I'm out of this Godsforsaken town." Her hands were still bound together, preventing her from gesturing.
"It was a dragon, I think. The bringers of the End Times." Hadvar looked off to the side as a small spurt of dust came down from the corner of the ceiling, some distance away. "We've got to keep moving! Come, let me see if I can get those bindings off."
The Breton did as she was told, and Hadvar gently began to undo the knot, eventually pulling it loose. Cura began to flap her wrists side-to-side, to let the blood flow back in. "There you are," Hadvar said, attempting to be cordial. "much better, isn't it?"
Cura quickly noticed an Imperial Armour set poking out of a chest in the corner, and before Hadvar could tell her, already began fitting it on. "I get the feeling I'm going to make good use of this." Cura said, as Hadvar looked away from the changing half-elf.
Hadvar pointed to a sword on a weapon rack next to the beds. "Give that sword a few swings, then we'll continue moving."
"You don't think I can fight?" Cura asked, slightly offended.
"Just want to make sure your wrists are loose enough, after hours of bondage." He replied plainly.
Cura nodded, and removed the Imperial Sword from the rack. It felt odd to her. The weight was even throughout, and she swung a couple of times, but arching her wrist as she did so.
"Never wielded a sword before?" Hadvar called her out.
"Never." Cura responded, surprised at how quickly he picked up on that. "I specialize in Maces. Blunt weapons."
"Well, I'm sure you can find one along the way," Hadvar reassured. "just stay alive long enough to find it, all right?"
Cura nodded, and Hadvar pulled the chain on the wall, causing the door to slide open. Both warriors walked cautiously through the stone halls, when some voices could be heard. "Stormcloaks." Hadvar stated. "Maybe we can try and reason with them."
"I don't think-"
Cura was cut off as Hadvar moved quickly, attempting to speak to the rebels. The minute they saw his armour, they went on the attack, Battleaxe and Warhammer flailing through the air at Hadvar.
"Wait, stop!" Cura shouted. "We want to-"
The female Stormcloak hit Cura in the right shoulder with her Warhammer, causing a loud snap! to be heard.
Cura cried out in pain as she switched her hands, driving her sword into the woman's throat. As the woman slowly slid off the blade, blood trailed along it, and the limp body simply lay there, at Cura's feet. The world stopped, and Cura's eyes seemed to falter in their sockets briefly. The sounds of Hadvar fighting the other were mere white noise to her. All Cura could do was look at the blood on her sword, then at the woman lying dead before her. The two images connected, and the agony in her right shoulder was ignored as her body slowly healed itself. Cura felt nauseous, as the scent was the first sense to come back to her. Heavy iron, thick and vivid.
"I'm sorry..." was the only thing she could muster up.
Cura had never taken a Human life before. She fought Atronachs, Wolves, Bears, Ice Wraiths, Skeletons, and even a few Trolls, but she had never sullied her mace with the blood of a Man or a Mer before.
The sword felt defiled.
Hadvar finished striking the man down with his own sword, and he saw Cura's reaction. He hurried over to the Breton and placed a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out of it. "Hey. we have to keep moving!"
Cura was flabbergasted. She could barely choke out a word.
"First time, eh?" Hadvar asked, and she simply nodded.
"You'll get used to it." Hadvar reassured. "If that's any consolation..."
Cura shook her head. How could she become 'used to it'? These people were gone. They had families, friends, and lives that they lead. They were never coming back. Did that female Stormcloak have children? Did that young male Stormcloak join because he wanted to protect his sick parents? She, who vowed her entire life to protect people, and help them, broke her vow. "I... I'm supposed to be a Protector. A healer. Th-that's what Carcette taught me..."
"If it makes you feel any better," Hadvar began. "you protected me. She would have hit me from behind, and they would have killed me." He held out his arm, which had a deep and gnarly gash on it. "As for the Healer part, I could use a bit of that."
Cura nodded. "All right." She sniffled lightly, and closed her eyes, and emanated a golden glow as she used her Healing Hands on Hadvar, and simultaneously healed her own shoulder wound.
"Wow..." Hadvar marveled. "who taught you how to heal like that? College of Winterhold? Priesthood of Mara or Arkay?"
Cura shook her head. "Keeper Carcette of the Vigil of Stendarr. South of Dawnstar."
Hadvar nodded, and the two continued their walk through the keep. "Your name, prisoner? You weren't on the list, so I think I'd like to have a proper name to call you by." He said this with a friendly nod, before addressing himself. "I'm Hadvar of Riverwood, Legionnaire." He extended a hand to her.
"Cura of the Pale." Cura responded in a lighter manner, taking his hand and shaking it. "Vigilant of Stendarr."
"Flows nicely off the tongue, don't it?" Hadvar said with a gentle chuckle. "Cura of the Pale."
He then scoffed and shook his head, looking away. "I can't believe we thought you were a Stormcloak."
Cura shrugged. "Like the thief... Lokir? ...I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time." She was saddened to think that if the beheaded man and Lokir would have only waited long enough, they may have had a chance at survival, she has now.
Soon enough, they heard more fighting, and came across two Stormcloaks, who had cut down a few Legion soldiers. Cura hesitantly moved into the fray, but ultimately, while having to grit her teeth, she struck down one of the Soldiers.
The people who she was in bondage with, not two hours ago were now trying to murder her, as well. They probably were just fixated on the Imperial Armour she was forced to adorn.
She wanted her Novice Robes and Hood back. And perhaps her Steel Mace and Iron Shield, as well. They couldn't be far. The Imperials had to bring them somewhere. Or perhaps they were in a carriage, and now lost to the Dragon.
"The Torturer and his Assistant were killed." Hadvar said, his voice bearing caution. "Could have had a better time with four people, but I suppose it's just you and me, Cura."
Cura nodded, when she saw a dead mage with Novice Robes and a Novice hood in a cage, with some gold, a Magicka potion, and a Spell Tome of Sparks. "That may not be my actual uniform, but maybe I can look my original job again." She looked around. "Is there a key nearby to open this cage?"
"Here, take these."
Hadvar handed Cura a few Lockpicks. "Do you know how to use those?"
"Maybe show me the first time?" Cura requested. Hadvar snorted, and came over, and went on one knee, and placed one half into the center of the keyhole, and the second hand just around it. "You have to find the sweet spot," he began. "...can be a bit tricky..." then a click was heard "..but once you get it, you can open any lock." the door swung open.
"Thank you." Cura said, as she took the robes, spellbook, potion, and gold. Hadvar looked away again as she changed out of the Imperial Cuirass and donned the set of Robes instead. Thankfully, the mage hadn't been dead long enough for rot to take effect. As she looked around the room, she found more lockpicks on a table with an Iron dagger, and a curious little book titled "Legend of the Dragonborn." She pocketed it, perhaps for a good read on the road. Then she saw an Iron Mace and an iron shield hung on a weapon rack against the East wall. She rushed over and equipped them. She gave the mace a good few swings.
"There's your natural form." Hadvar said jokingly, and Cura smiled and nodded.
She rejoined him, and the two continued through a broken hole in the wall.
Eventually, they came upon an old cave with a small brook running through, wetting the damp stones. The effects of melting ice. Cura thought she heard a tommy knocker, and whirled around. Hadvar heard it too, and then jumped back as a cave-in occurred, blocking the way they entered. "Better keep moving." He stated.
The two were beset by Stormcloaks, and Cura ran ahead, and noticed a puddle of gasoline near a couple who were attacking her with arrows. She was quick on her feet, and dodged them midflight, and used fire to ignite the gasoline, putting an end to them as Hadvar finished off the two behind her.
She just told herself to keep moving, ignore the carnage. She blocked it out of her mind, and it was becoming a little easier, when she focused on the goal at hand. She would probably throw up upon exit, though.
The pair ran through the ominous caverns, and eventually were beset by Giant Spiders that came down from the ceiling. "Frostbite Spiders!"
Cura was quick to the draw, and began to cast Flames, burning the voracious Arachnids as they descended from the ceiling. One proved to be more resilient than the others, but a quick mace bash put the thing out of its misery before it could sink its fangs in Cura.
"What's next, Giant Snakes?" Hadvar mildly cursed.
They entered an open clearing, where a Bear slept nearby. Bad news, all around. Hadvar handed Cura his bow. "Time for your Archery lesson." He instructed. "Aim it at its head, but just a little above; gauge the distance." Cura knocked an arrow, and aimed for the Ursine as her hands trembled.
"You'll thank me for this sometime in the future." Hadvar informed her. "Never know when Archery will come in handy."
As Cura gained more and more confidence in her shot, she released the bowstring, and the arrow whizzed through the air, penetrating the Bear's skull. As the bear began to push itself upwards, Cura panicked, and lining up another shot, sniped the beast again, ending its suffering.
"It would have attacked us." Hadvar told her.
"I know."
Cura put the bow on her back.
She was beginning to slowly, but surely think the way a Soldier would in this given situation. It was the only hope she had of surviving it, despite how much it terrified her to do so.
After some trekking forward, the two saw a light.
The exit!
"This looks like the way out! I was starting to wonder if we'd ever make it." Hadvar exclaimed.
Cura hurried as fast as her feet could carry her, and practically jumped through the light as though it were a portal to Sovngarde itself.
As the pair made it outside, Hadvar quickly pulled Cura behind a rock, telling her to get down. The black terror soared by them with a resonant roar, and headed Westward.
Hadvar was relieved that the dragon missed them.
Cura, however, was still very high-strung from the entire fiasco. Then, it all came up. The Vigilant quickly threw herself away from Hadvar and vomited straight into the bushes nearby. The Legionnaire was disgusted, but patiently waited for Cura to stop.
"Finished yet?" he asked, and she got back up on her feet, and nodded. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and took in the mountain air.
"So, that's it, then?" Cura asked.
In less than a day, her entire life had been upended.
"No." Hadvar told her. "Closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle's the blacksmith there. I'm sure he'd help you out."
Riverwood. Was it North? East? West? Cura nodded. "I'll go with you."
Hadvar smiled, and nodded. "I wouldn't have made it without your help today."
"I... I don't know about that." Cura said bashfully. "You seem pretty capable yourself."
The Imperial Soldier shook his head, turning to Cura directly. "Listen. You should go to Solitude and join up with the Imperial Legion. We could really use someone like you. "
"Forget it." Cura shook her head. "You want me to join a war, and kill more people? I refuse."
"I know, today wasn't the best introduction to the Legion, but I hope you'll give us another chance." Hadvar cringed at their horrendous mistake. "The Legion could really use someone like you, especially now. And if the rebels have themselves a dragon, General Tullius is the only one who can stop them."
"So... the Stormcloaks. Ulfric. What's going on with them?" Cura asked, bewildered at the entire development.
"You haven't heard of the civil war in Skyrim?" Hadvar looked surprised, taken aback.
"I have," Cura stated. "though very little. Most of my life was spent in the Hall of the Vigilant, and hunting Daedra. I never cared to pay much attention to World Events."
"That much is apparent." Hadvar remarked snidely. "If you had, you'd have avoided Ulfric when you saw him."
"How did you capture Ulfric and the Stormcloaks?" Cura asked curiously.
Hadvar beamed at that. "A masterstroke by General Tullius! He's only been in charge here for a few months, but he's turned things around for the Empire. We've been trying to catch Ulfric since the war started, but he always seemed to slip through our fingers... like he knew we were coming. This time, the General turned the tables on him. Ulfric rode right into our ambush with only a few bodyguards. He surrendered pretty meekly, too. So much for his death-or-glory reputation. I thought we were taking Ulfric back to Cyrodiil, but I guess the General changed his mind. You know the rest."
"That I do." Cura said unenthusiastically, rubbing the back of her neck cautiously. She opted to change the topic, for comfort's sake. "So... do you think General Tullius knows where that dragon came from?"
"No. Not yet. After all, a dragon... something out of old tales and legends... no one could have expected that. But you can bet he'll be trying to figure it out. This could shift the whole balance of the war. If you want to help stop that dragon, your best bet is to go to Solitude and join up with the Legion." Hadvar insisted.
"I... I'll think on it." Cura shrugged. "I really don't know, Hadvar."
"Sure, I understand. It's not easy to go from being executed by the Legion one day to joining up the next. But I think you'll see that the Legion is Skyrim's only hope for real peace right now. I know you'll make the right choice in the end." He said reassuringly.
Cura was more than a little peeved, and could not wait to find an Inn to collapse in.
The two uncanny friends continued along the dirt road, where they followed a river., through a small forest, and saw what looked like a Town with a Lumber mill off in the distance.