A/N: Greetings friends, and welcome to Skyrim: The Tale of The Bard. This particular story has been eating away at my brain for about a year now. I'll not spoil the point of this story, but I will mention that it follows the canon MSQ rather strictly. The events will remain the same for the most part, but reactions will differ from what's expected. Hopefully, my style and format will keep the story fresh despite you hearing the story you've read and played a hundred times already. A/Ns will be at an absolute minimum, and thanks again for reading.

Sundas, 17th of Last Seed 4E201 Morning

Ralof

My name is Ralof. I was born and raised in a small town called Riverwood. When Ulfric revolted against a traitorous Empire, I flew to his side and became a Son of Skyrim.

And today, we have escaped the Empire's jaws of death.

Though perhaps the far deadlier pair of jaws flying above us may still bring about our end. When the beast appeared, there was no mistaking it. The form of Akatosh, not seen in Skyrim since the Second Era. A dragon. And then it opened its mouth, and it was as if Oblivion had come to Mundus. A shockwave, followed by flaming rocks falling from the sky. Someone cut me loose from my binds, taking advantage of one possibly deadly situation to escape another certain one.

Now I find myself grabbing the Breton prisoner, shouting, "Come on, Breton, get up! The gods won't give us another chance!" I feel more strongly about saving this man than I should, perhaps. But then, I can't shake the feeling that the timing was too perfect to be aught but divine intervention; the dragon interrupted a split-second before the man's head would have been split from his body.

I practically drag the stumbling man to the nearby watchtower, where my fellow Stormcloaks have taken refuge, slamming the heavy door shut behind us. Not that I'm convinced it would stop a dragon, of course, but at least we would be less obvious targets for the death raining around us. Jarl Ulfric is here as well, besieged by questions from all sides.

"Was that really a dragon?"

"Could the legends be true?"

Somehow, the Jarl remains unfazed, as though we had not all nearly been eaten alive, answering with a quick statement; "Legends don't burn down villages." We are surrounded by the commotion of screams and roars that reach even through the mortar of the building.

The Breton - Talao, I recall - catches my attention. "Pardon," he says, rubbing his now free wrists, "but perhaps we could discuss what it is or isn't once we're no longer in danger of becoming its lunch."

Another roar punctuates the silent agreement of the room, and Jarl Ulfric shouts over the noise, "We need to get moving, now!" I grab the prisoner once more, pulling him up the stairs. We need to get a better view of our surroundings to figure out how best to escape. Thankfully, his leg doesn't seem to slow him down overmuch. The curiosity I noticed in him earlier is gone, replaced by determination and no small amount of fear. Can't blame him for that. It happens to new recruits as well, their first battle. Or they dissolve into a blubbering pile of tears. One or the other. We reach the next level, only the find the stairway impassable, barred by rocks. Another soldier pushes past us, trying to clear the path, but as I move forward to help him, an entire section of the outer wall bursts in, sending me sprawling back against the intact wall behind me. The bloody dragon! It's entire neck is in the tower, and even more monstrous up close; it's head alone larger than my entire body. I can feel my skin heat and blister as it opens its mouth and spews a gout of fire upon the unfortunate soldier ahead of us, incinerating him. The screams are ungodly.

To be honest, I feel like I'm next. The fire stops, and the head turns directly toward us. Will it eat me whole? Roast me alive like the soldier? Damn it all to Oblivion, I don't even have a weapon to defend myself. But by Talos, I'll look my death in the eye, and hope that satisfies the gods. But then I notice, as I stare the best down, it's not even looking at me. I see intelligence in its terrifying crimson eyes. It proclaims, "Look at me. See my power and tremble before it." And that gaze, I swear, is directed straight at Talao. Then the head abruptly withdraws, and we are alone as the dragon continues to terrorize the town.

I'll admit, it takes me a moment to regain my wits. I want to interrogate Talao, find out what he knows, and why a dragon would resurrect itself from extinction just to glare at him. But right now, survival takes priority over curiosity. The stairwell is still hopelessly blocked, so I glance out of the new window in the tower instead. It's an honest to gods nightmare; flames everywhere, buildings completely destroyed, arrows flying through the air. No sign of obvious safe passage. The house directly beside us has lost its roof, but mostly seems stable. Not ideal, but it will keep us moving.

"See that roof over there? Jump through!" Talao clutches his leg, as if to remind me of his injury, but there's no time for sympathy. "Keep moving if you want to live, damn it! We'll follow as soon as we can."

He nods shakily, and I hear him mutter, "Y'ffre guide me." Before he can second-guess himself - or me - he leaps out into the air. I wince as he catches the lip of the room, but miraculously he lands in a bed. I wave him on before rushing back downstairs to retrieve my companions. Only to swear as I notice them missing. No doubt they fled when the dragon lit upon the tower.

"By the Frozen Wastes!" I hate to abandon Talao, but my comrades and my Jarl come first. And if he truly has the favor of the gods, as I'm convinced, surely someone will come to his aid.