The Argonian Chronicles 1

Rising of a Storm

Dian

  Things were never the same after Helgen. I had come to Skyrim to start a new life, but knew nothing of the war that was tearing the province apart. I had no sooner spent an hour on Skyrim soil that a group of Imperial soldiers rounded a bend ahead of me and surrounded me, taking what few possessions I had away (though thankfully leaving my clothes on me, and roughly pushing me on a cart where I stumbled and hit my head on one of the benches, knocking me out cold.

I awoke with the cart having a few more additions on it, including one man who was gagged. One conversed with me,  but it was a one sided conversation. I was questioning for the hundredth time why in the name of the eight had I come to Skyrim. Not the first place you'd think an Argonian would go. Too Damn cold.

  The soldiers took us to Helgen, where they would execute us. I learned that the other men were soldiers for the Stormcloak uprising, basically the cause of the disorder in Skyrim. Except one man was a meer horse thief who was just unlucky enough to get caught. The man who was gagged was Ulfric Stormcloak, the one leading the rebellion. He was wanted for murdering the king of Skyrim.

  The carts stopped in front of the town square, where a chopping block was set up. A large man holding an even larger and menacing looking axe stood next to a priestess garbed in orange robes. Everyone stepped out of the carts and stood in a jumbled group. Then the soldiers started reading names. Most everyone were Stormcloaks, each on the list to be executed. Even the horse thief was on the list, to which he started running. He didn’t make it far before an arrow entered his back.

  “Anyone else feel like running?” A soldier said. I believe she was a captain or someone else of high rank. Wasn’t paying much attention.

  The soldier starred at me when he finished the list. “And, who are you?”

  I gulped, the motion very evident in my long neck.

  “D. . D. . Dian, I was traveling to Windhelm to. . .”

  “Probably another pathetic farmer wanting to join the Stormcloaks,” The captain said.

  “He’s not on the list,” The soldier said.  “We caught him crossing the border.”

  “Uh. . . I,” I wanted to say more in my defense.

  “Doesn’t matter, he goes to the block, too.”

  My heart dropped from my chest to my three toed feet. Suddenly I could feel the chilly air all the better.

  I followed the captain to where the other men stood, all lined up around the chopping block. The block seemed to have been used often as it was stained red despite seeming to have been cleaned. Probably for traveling purposes rather than to suit it’s unlucky customers.

  One of the Imperials was talking to the gagged man. Ulfric, wasn’t it?

  “Ulfric Stormcloak,” The Imperial said. “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.”

  The Voice? What the hell was the Voice?

  Ulfric grunted behind his gag.

  “You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.”

A distant sound rings off the mountains, making the soldier's pause to listen and look for the source.  Everyone stands still, not even daring to breath.

“What was that?” Someone asked.

“Doesn’t matter. Carry on.”

“Read them their last rights,” The captain said.

  The priestess started saying a few words. It was rather touching. Rather beautiful words that helped me a little to look past the fact I was about to die. One Stormcloak didn’t seem to think so.

  “Shut up and let’s get this over with,” He said, walking straight up to the block.

  “Very well,” The captain said. The priestess walked briskly away, her head down allowing her hood to cover her face.

  “Come on, I haven’t got all morning.” The soldier growled. The captain placed here hand on his back, and pushed him down to his knees. Then she lift a leg and pushed him to the block with her foot.

  “My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?”

  No one muttered a word as the executioner lifted the axe in the air. With a grunt, the man heaved the axe down. With a sickening sound, the man’s head rolled down the groove in the block and into a small crate. I turned my head away and started praying to all the gods and to the Hist.

  “You Imperial bastards!” Someone called.

  More outbursts came from around the town. It was obvious that there were supporters of both sides among the populous.

  “Next, the lizard,” ordered the captain.

  The same strange sound fills the air. Everyone looks around.

  “There it is again.” One Imperial says.

  “I said, next prisoner,” the captain said, impatiently.

  Slowly, I walk up to the captain. She turns me and pushes me to my knees. The sound comes again, but the captain pushes me down and puts my head in the groove of the block. I catch a glimpse of the head of the previous guest of the axe. What a great way to go. Don't even know why I'm about to die. It's not like crossing the border is illegal.  I turn my head and stare at the wielder of the axe when just behind him a large beast lands on the roof of a building.  All the soldiers stare, stunned.  It roars and lets loose a stream of fire on my would-be executioner.  The heat on my scaly skin is intense and I roll to get away from the flames. This was very difficult to do with my hands tied (so accommodating, Imperial soldiers are). Someone calls to me as the beast blasts the side of a building to charred splinters. I remembered some legends of beasts like this one as I sprinted through the debris to get to safety, well, relative safety. 

  Another roar filled the air, much louder this time and a strong wind whipped my head feathers around. A quick glance behind me proved that the dragon was coming down for me. An unmistakable heat warmed my poorly garbed back. I ducked behind a crumbled wall, slamming into another man who was inconveniently hiding where I landed.

Flames curled around the wall, a few streaming in front of my snout where a few bricks were missing.The wall groaned, and a large claw appeared over the top.

  "Move," The man underneath me grunted. With some shuffling, I rolled off of him and scrambled to my feet. I turned and he grabbed my arm as a few bricks fell from the wall and a long snout appeared around the corner.

  "Quick, into the tower,” He yelled, and we bolted into a stone room leading to spiraling stairs. Our steps echoed as we ran up, but that was quickly replaced by loud thudding on the wall.

  With a loud crash, the wall further up the stairs blew apart. Brick and mortar exploded, tumbling down the stairs. Blood flowed from a gash in a guard’s head who was unlucky enough to be in that spot. He sat up just as the dragons head appeared in the hole, releasing a stream of flames into the stairwell. The guard was engulfed in a bright curtain, his screams lasting a few agonizing seconds.

  Another guard came down the stairs, a drawn long bow in his hands. The arrow flew and impaled itself in the dragon’s snout. With a loud roar, the beast snapped its head at the guard, its jaws closing around his leg. It drug the guard out and flung him to the streets below. Someone outside yelled, catching the dragon's attention. With another roar, it took off, a large gust from its wings blowing the dust and ash in the tower into a blinding cloud.

  The man and I stood there for a moment, glancing at the hole and each other. When it finally dawned on us that the dragon was gone, we tentatively stepped to the hole and peeked around the rubbled wall. The dragon was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear it somewhere nearby, trumpeting loudly.

A short distance from the tower was what remained of a house. It's roof was reduced to burning rubble on the street and on the buildings top floor.

  "That building is close enough to jump to," The man said. I got a good look at him while staring in disbelief. He was one of the prisoners on the wagon with me. A "Stormcloak" soldier or something like that.

  "You're joking, right?"

  He gave me a stern look. "No, now jump, damn you!"

  With a very noticeable shake of my head, I backed up, stumbling over a brick and stepping on a charred hand with an audible "crunch".

  "What about you?"

  "I'll be right behind you. I need to make sure Jarl Ulfric makes it out."

  "Who?"

  "He was down stairs. We ran right past him." Strange how when you're running for your life, you tend to miss things. "Um. . ." He gave me a quizzical look. "You were jumping."

    "Off to my doom, then," I said, and without a second look to my suddenly crazy companion, I sprinted out the hole. The sensation of falling was nauseating, made worse by the smoke entering my lungs.

  Thank the gods that the roof was mostly gone. With a painful thud, I landed on the wood floor, stumbled, and rolled hard into a blackened bedframe. Straw floated from the bed, quickly igniting from the heat. One landed on my snout and up my nose. I swatted at the hot invader, but sneezed anyways. My head was sore from all the smoke, and it only got worse from the sneeze. I groaned and got to my feet. Part of the floor had fallen, leaving a good sized hole straight to another hole in the wall. It was easy to jump through the hole, but outside, a grisly sight awaited me.

  Bodies laid strewn on the ground, either burned or covered in blood and rubble. Screams of soldiers giving orders and those of civilians joined the roars of the dragon. A child was caught on the path just as the dragon landed behind him. The boy’s father yelled to him, catching the beasts attention. It breathed fire, engulfing soldiers. The father got out of the way in time, the hem of his jacket smoked as he dove behind the rubble of a building. The dragon took to the air again and the boy ran to his father.

That was my chance. I took off, scaling over rubble and a few charred bodies (though I hope they weren't). Making it to the street again, a young guard stepped out and blocked my path.

"Hault!"

"Really?" I gasped, and punched him in the face with my bound hands. He fell to the ground, clutching his nose.

"Go help someone!" I wanted to say more, probably use my knowledge of expletives, but I didn't have the time. So I just kicked him out of the way and ran again.

  "Hey, you! Over here!" A man waved his arms near where the dragon was. He was one of the Imperial men. In fact, the same man who had read the list of prisoners. For some reason, I put all the facts aside and ran to him.

  "Huh, you are one lucky bastard. Follow me, there's a way out through the keep."

  "Uh. . ." I was half expecting him to put a knife in my gut.

  "Just stay near the walls."

  Without another word, he ran between a building and the town’s inner wall. I followed suit, keeping my back on the charred rock wall.

  A huge curtain came down in front of me, blocking the Imperial from my view. It was black and covered in veins and scales. With dread, I realized it was the massive wing of the dragon.

  To my amazement, the beast spoke. Not in any tongue I could understand, but something about the words rang through me, sending tingles to every inch of my body. It was almost as if I should know what they meant. With a loud boom, a shockwave exited the dragon’s maw and sent debris over a few more people. Whether soldier or civilians I could not tell. The dragon took off, hovering to spray more flames upon the town. My new guide ran, and I followed, keeping an eye on the great beast.

  The dragon landed again amidst a group of soldiers, who went into a frenzy. Some fired arrows, a few slashed swords at the dragon’s legs, and the rest cowered in fear or ran. I rounded the wall under an arch, which was amazingly still intact.

  Another loud boom filled the air. Soldiers flew, landing in front of me as the wave hit me, throwing my helpless form to the ground.

  “Come on, get up!” The Imperial soldier yelled at me, grabbing my arm and hoisting me up. We passed a few other soldiers. Some were getting up, lifting swords or bows, but many lay motionless on the ground. We both looked back at the dragon, and looked ahead just in time to avoid bumping into the Stormcloak prisoners.

  “Rolof, you damned traitor. Get out of my way.” The Imperial asked.

  “We’re escaping, Hodvar. You’re not stopping us this time.”

  “Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde.”

  “Come on, Argonian.” Hodvar said. I started following him, and Rolof grabbed my arm.

  “You sure you want to go with him? He tried to kill you.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” And I took off following Hodvar.