Scarlet Scale Ch. 001

I also forgot to mention in my character's introductory chapter before this, that I'm also using inspiration from the "mods" used by Xbox ONE players, but only a few of those, because they're necessary to describe the story. Since I posted a disclaimer in the prologue, I refer to that.

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Tirdas, 1:34 pm

7th of Morning Star, year 201, 4th Era

The road I was taking led from Cyrodiil into Skyrim. As I approached the border gate the guard there gave an order.

"Halt!" He had a rolled up paper and quill. And a sword at his waist. Two other archers, a bosmer, and a nord, in the covered walkway above "Didn't someone in Bruma warn you, Skyrim is involved in a civil war?"

"No," I replied "what's going on?"

"I see," the orc in red imperial armor commented gruffly "well, it is. Some of these nords" he turned to his nord friend above, "no o'fence, Odafrek!"

"None taken." He replied down.

"They got rather irritated with how the White-Gold Concordat said Talos can't be worshipped anymore, and overall, there's a big mess of it. Can't say I blame them, but I'm sure as Oblivion not gunna throw in with them blue-clad Stormcloaks neether. Simply put, you see fighting, you think carefully about who ya' help. Also watch out for some 'soldiers,' if they're not wearing a full uniform, or its mismatched. A merchant complained to one of us that a group on 'patrol' said he was 'interferin,' that they needed him to pay a 'fine.' No real soldier'll do that. Now," he took his quill and paper in hand, "we haf-ta write down everyone who's entering or leaving Skyrim, and where ya' wanna go. Them officers don't tell us why, 'cept that we gotta do it."

"My name's Scarlet-Scale, I'm not interested in politics right now. I didn't expect this, thought I'd just figure out where to go after my entry here."

"Right," the orc grunted "sounds like you'll probably wanna pass thru a bit o' Falkreath Hold to Whiterun. Somehow Jarl Balgruuf managed to not piss on anyone's boots yet, ya can find out more there, and Riverwood's on the way too. So, I'm markin' you down," even if his way of speech was sloppy, the handwriting was decently legible "this here's your entry slip, do NOT lose it, if one of our soldiers finds you don't have it, he may think yur a spy, and subject to bein' put in irons. Welcome to Skyrim, Scarlet."

One of the other soldiers in the elevated cover of the wall pulled on a wheel, and the doors swung wide open. I pulled out the rolled up leather map that I bought back in the Imperial Capital City and asked the soldier how the factions divided the area. He pointed out the cities of Solitude and Windhelm.

"Solitude's our headquarters. Them rebels're comin' outta Windhelm. Now, go git a move on to Whiterun, we got orders ta' keep these gates closed at all times 'cept to legimit travelers. Openin' to none but fellow soldiers after dark."

I believed he meant "legitimate," but it was also clear that the orc meant what he said about keeping the gate closed. After they closed them behind me, I walked on down the road. Then I noticed another group coming down from another fork. It was more of the red-clad Imperial soldiers escorting two wagons of prisoners, though some were on foot. But almost all were nords, wearing the same blue uniform. Except for one, but he was in one of the wagons, clearly also a prisoner.

The guards who saw me brandished their weapons, and I held my hands up, backing off. They sheathed, but still kept a watchful eye on me. I was going to wait for them to just pass me by, but then someone came galloping up fast on a horse. The Imperials pulled out a thick, strong rope, and came around the rider with it as he shouted, trying to back out. A soldier quickly grabbed him off the horse, I couldn't see what they did to him, but that was then made obvious. I saw him next hauled up on the back of a wagon.

I guessed that as the rider didn't try slowing down enough for the soldiers, they decided to arrest him and then see to him later. If he did turn out to be a simple traveler, then probably released. But the horse they tied to the saddle of the officer leading, the rider's horse had no saddle, just a bit, and reins, so I took another guess that the horse was stolen.

I took out my map, it looked like the road we were all on seemed to lead to a town called Helgen. I assumed that's also where the Imperials were heading, but the watchful soldiers clearly showed that my questions would not be welcome. I waited, and then only after the whole group had passed by for longer than 20 minutes, did I actually start moving again. As I got to Helgen, there was a nord woman coming out of the forest with a basket filled with mushrooms.

"Excuse me," I said "but do you know what that group of soldiers I saw earlier was all about? Who were the prisoners? It seemed too small a group of prisoners for a serious battle to have taken place, but too large for light skirmish."

"Oh," the woman replied "you must be a new visitor to Skyrim, or you would have recognized Ulfric Stormcloak's men."

"Ulfric?" I had caught on her use of "Stormcloak," the border guard had suggested that was the name of the other faction.

"You say his name like you don't know of him." She had turned to me. "You surely are new to Skyrim then. He leads the rebellion here. Or rather he did, if the Imperials have caught him, then I expect the civil war is going to be over soon. Rumors back in Helgen, say that he's going to be executed right there."

"Really?" We started walking again. "This is pretty serious then?"

"Yes," she agreed, "but while us nords like to waggle our tongues, we try not to trust rumors much."

We were quiet while I tried thinking about this. I still had to figure out what these "great events" were that I was somehow going to be involved in. Soon enough, we both reached the locked gate of Helgen.

"Who's that?" The large oak of a nord in studded Imperial armor on the wall called down.

"Just some traveler I met on the road." the woman beside me answered. "She seems to have come through at around the same time as the soldiers, but she also seemed to have not heard of the civil war. She hasn't mentioned her name yet."

"Scarlet-Scale." I added, glad for my introduction.

"Alright," the nord said, "you can go on through with Matlara there. But General Tullius personally gave us all orders that no one but the town citizens can enter or leave until after they're done with the prisoners."

This probably prompted Matlara's next question, as the gates were opened.

"They're going to execute Ulfric here then?"

"Yep, the headsman's arrived already, I just didn't see him until you went looking for those mushrooms."

"Thanks, Hakoth."

"You're welcome."

We walked up. The Imperials already had the prisoners form into lines next to the wagons. Another stout nord in studded Imperial armor was reading from a list.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The one who was gagged for some reason, and not dressed in the blue uniforms of the others, but in fancier clothes stepped up. Another nord who had been standing next to him called out behind him from the group.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric..."

The nord holding the list called another.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

The earlier nord who proclaimed his proud loyalty took his next place in the group on their left. The nord with the list called again.

"Lokir, of Rorikstead."

A thin, frightened nord, he looked like the one I assumed earlier as a horsethief, he desperately cried out.

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!"

Not waiting, for anyone's reaction to this, he dashed off for the building next to the gate.

The Imperial captain standing by the list calling nord was irate.

"Halt!"

Lokir defiantly called back, "You're not going to kill me!"

But the Captain wouldn't hear of it, and she shouted angrily.

"Archers!"

True to their duty, they filled the poor thief with five arrows. I was confused, he really didn't seem connected with the other prisoners, even if his name was on whatever list they had.

Perhaps too smug with this, the Captain taunted the other prisoners.

"Anyone else feel like 'running?'"

No one really spoke up, but the glares they gave her told me plenty of they wanted to do. After some time of calling the rest of the Stormcloak soldiers' names, a priestess of Arkay came out from a building, taking her place next to the officer wearing the richly decorated armor.

"Ulfric Stormcloak." I presumed that the same officer in that armor, speaking now, was the "General Tullius" I had heard Hakoth mention. "Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Despite his gag, Ulfric grunted angrily through it. I had now assumed that was this "Voice" power was the reason for the gag. General Tullius continued his rant.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, restoring the peace!"

There was unexpectedly, a distant but loud, whatever it was, roar. The distance of wherever the source was, made it seem like nothing important though. So, the soldiers and other people dismissed it. But for me, the sound was strangely 'familiar' somehow.

The nord with the list asked about it though. "What was that?"

"It's nothing." The officer insisted "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius." Then the Captain ordered the priestess "Give them their last rites."

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius," she began, "blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..."

"Oh for the love of Talos," an irritated Stormcloak interrupted "shut up and let's get this over with!"

The priestess sounded rather insulted in her tone then "As you wish..."

The interrupting Stormcloak was indignantly proud to the end... "Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

He didn't say anything more, as it was then that the executioner's axe had cleanly separated the man's head from his body.

"You Imperial bastards!" A Stormcloak woman screamed.

"This IS justice!" Matlara's husband shouted.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" Another woman watching shouted.

"As fearless in death," the first Stormcloak soldier on the list, Ralof, commented, "as he was in life."

"Next, prisoner!" the Captain shouted.

Then there was the roaring again. I had never heard anything like it before, so I had no idea of exactly what I was hearing. But whatever it was, my SOUL knew what it was...

"Did you hear that?" the nord holding the list asked again "It doesn't sound like any beast I ever heard."

But the Captain didn't care. "I said, next prisoner!!"

"To the block, Ralof." the list nord said. "Nice and easy."

"Why?" Ralof asked. "Why did you take their side, Hadvar? We were best friends as boys. Why?"

"Yes." Hadvar agreed "I chose what I believed in, and you chose what you believed in. It's too late for us to be talking about this, I'm sorry."

I was sure I heard Ralof mutter, "I'm sorry too..."

But he laid his head down on the block.

"It's only ever 'too late,' if we let it be..." I wasn't sure of why I whispered that, but I did.

At just that very moment that the headsman started raising his axe, a massive dragon in black landed on the top of the tower behind him!

"What in Oblivion is that?!" General Tullius shouted.

The dragon roared, and hundreds of burning stones started pouring from out of the sky! The soldiers scattered, men and women on both sides firing arrows at him, mages flinging spells. The civilians dashed into their homes, but the roofs were little protection against the dragon's fire.

Alduin. I had no idea why I knew that name, but that was the name of the monster in front of us. The dragon glared straight down at me, and I laughed, and laughed.

"OnikaanSosAh..." he growled in a low rumble. That also seemed extremely familiar for the same strange reason, though this time it seemed even MORE personal. Then he spread wing into the sky, raining down his inferno.

A few of the soldiers trying to fire, broke concentration to stare at me as I kept laughing like a madwoman, but by then I was drawing my bow. I didn't know why I was laughing either, but why did it matter? This was thrilling!

"Don't just stand there!" the General slapped a dumbstruck soldier "Kill that thing!"

The man shook himself, and started with his arrows.

"Guards!" Tullius yelled "Get the townspeople to safety!"

I glanced around for the best spot to take cover, and there was the tower ahead of me. If I could get to its top, my shots would definitely be able to reach their mark. Somehow, I knew that MY strikes in particular would weaken him more than any soldier's, but even more so, that I needed to get a much closer attack to really kill him. But these ideas were not my trying to think out a strategy, they felt more like a memory from some other distant time. It all rushed through my mind in but a few seconds, and I dashed through the open door of the tower.

Some of the Stormcloaks had taken their injured there, and their leader, Ulfric seemed to be catching his breath. His hands were untied, the gag gone now. The soldier, Ralof was confounded, trying to understand what was happening.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends..." Ulfric replied in his heavily accented voice "legends don't burn down villages."

"No," I commented "there are stories aplenty about legendary figures causing destruction. Myths aren't true. Legends often have a bit of truth hidden in their words."

Ralof stared at me, while Ulfric merely grunted, but then yelled to attention the situation.

"We need to move. NOW!"

Ralof nodded and turned to me "Up through the tower, let's go!"

Another Stormcloak seemed to be assuring Ulfric of the others that had to be left behind. "They're hurt, but they'll live. Another second out there with the dragon, and they'd both be dead..."

Ralof was rushing up the steps, urging us "Let's go! With me, up the tower!!"

Nearing the next level in the tower, we paused to see some rubble had caved in, another Stormcloak was trying to get it aside.

"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!"

Just after he said that, the tower suddenly shook and I reflexively backed up. Alduin had smashed his head through the wall, and then he roared again.

"Yol... Toor... Shul!!"

A great torrent of flame erupted from his maw, filling the room into that level, and burning the poor man instantly. If I hadn't backed up, I'd have been consumed just as much. There was no quickly getting to the tower's top now. We looked out through the new hole.

Ralof pointed "See the inn on the other side? Jump, the roof's close enough, and don't stop! Go! We'll meet when we can!"

I leapt, landing on the thatching where it met the ruined building's second floor. I scrambled through the recently burned hole in the building's roof, and jumped through another hole in that floor. I ran for another spot to try attacking the dragon, and saw Hadvar, the nord who had been writing in his list. There were several others, villagers. One looked badly hurt, perhaps from a piece of masonry falling on him. His son was over him, frantically trying to drag his father.

"Haming," Hadvar yelled "get over here, or you'll die!!"

The boy ran, crying, to the soldier. The black dragon suddenly landed right there with a crashing thud, and scooped up the boy's father into his mouth, swallowing the man with a crunch.

"Torolf!!" Hadvar yelled. "Oh Gods... everyone get back!"

He had noticed in time that Alduin, I still didn't understand how I knew the name, he was bracing his legs and taking another deep breath.

"Yol... Toor... Shul!"

Another torrent of fire washed over, while we stayed behind the soot-blackened frame of a house. After the monster flew up again Hadvar looked at me, armed now with my sword.

"You," he called "argonian! Do you want to help me?"

"Yes!" I cried. I never been more excited in all my life!

"Good! Keep close!" Hadvar quickly turned to the others. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense!"

"Gods guide you, Hadvar!" Gunnar called back to us.

We ran through several more burning husks of houses and buildings. Soon after, we found the General sheltering under the steel reinforced stone roof of the blacksmith's forge.

"Sir!" The soldier saluted briskly. "What do we do?!"

"Good man, Hadvar." He returned. "I'm not sure yet, I've never faced anything like this beast before. But we need someone to warn the whole province. I would guess that the place where it might be most likely to attack next is Whiterun. It's on an open plain, and controls a large part of land in central Skyrim, so I think we need to get a message to them. With no experience of this kind of enemy, I must organize our soldiers remaining, and regroup them to properly face this new threat. You, argonian,"

"Scarlet-Scale, Sir." I answered. Even if I wasn't a soldier, it was still proper to give an officer of high rank his due respect.

"Scarlet. Do you know this area?"

"No, General. But I am a capable fighter, one has to be, if they grow up in the heart of Argonia."

"Are you looking to ply yourself as a sellsword in the war? No matter, an armed messenger is more likely to get through than an average civilian, and Balgruuf is more likely to trust a civilian than a politically allied soldier right now. Both of you, get word to Whiterun. Scarlet should talk to Balgruuf, Hadvar, show her the way. Go, take the west exit out, the monster seems to be avoiding it. You have your orders now."

Without taking any more time, we fled. General Tullius, his Imperial forces and the Stormcloaks as well, had forgotten all about their civil war for now, both sides concentrating on the larger threat. Meanwhile Hadvar and I ran down the road out into the forest.

Before long, there was a fork in the road. The signpost had a number of different destinations on it, but Hadvar pointed to one.

"Riverwood, my uncle's the blacksmith there. It's on the way, also a good place to get some supplies, and Alvor'll probably let us rest for a bit in his-"

"Raaawwr!"

He was cut off, not by that dragon, but a rather cranky bear, that was trying its luck with a beehive. Perhaps unhappy with us there, he roared and stood up on the road.

"By Kyne..." Hadvar groaned "We don't have time for you! Go away!"

He yelled some more, and beat his shield loudly. The annoyed bear lumbered off, rubbing its snout of the angry bees.

'Kyne...' I thought 'Kyne... that makes me think of... of... peace?"

"Who is 'Kyne?'"

"The Imperials name her Kynareth," Hadvar replied as he jogged "one of the Divines responsible for creating the world of Nirn. She is the goddess of the sky and wind. Perhaps the very breath of the world itself. Her servants are said to be the animals of the wild, and she challenges us to stay strong by having them strife with us. Though it doesn't mean that our patience is not 'also' challenged."

There was more than that he was saying, but I was preoccupied, thinking about what these strange "memories" I kept having might mean. That, and Hadvar's butt as he jogged in front. I began imagining what it might look like bare, when a sudden feeling snapped my attention.

My escort hadn't noticed the quietly padded feet, but I did see a blurred gray dashing from out of the deep tree cover. I drew my sword, and threw a knife at the blur, while lunging at the second. The third wolf, Hadvar dispatched it quickly, hearing it whimper.

"You've some... ah, 'impressive' reflexes." He seemed to be also admiring something "else" impressive about my chest as well. "General Tullius could definitely appreciate a scout like you, and if you are interested, the recruitment starts at Solitude. If we weren't pressed for time to warn Balgruuf, perhaps we could get to 'know each other' better."