User:Elso/Dragonborn Rise of the Dovah

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Intro: Hello Ladies and Gents. I'm Elso: a prospective writer and avid gamer. One thing I noticed in my creative writing is that my character development has been somewhat lacking. I wanted a way to try and fix this, so I decided to write a fan fiction (Territory that I have explored before) This is the first of a trilogy regarding my version of the story of the last dragonborn. I got the idea to write this after seeing a movie version on youtube made by YongYea, check it out here: [1]. After seeing this I decided that I wanted to write about my interpretation of the plot of TESV. Currently I am working on finishing the first book and I will post as I complete chapters. I plan on writing three books: Book 1 about the Main Quest, Book 2 about the Dawnguard DLC, Book 3 about the Dragonborn DLC. Any criticism (preferably constructive)is welcome as my writing is far from perfect. I plan on keeping everything very lore friendly. It has been very fun so far looking up everything about the subjects discussed on the continent of Tamriel and I for see much need for the UESP in the months to come. Lastly I recommend this work of fiction or people ages 13 and up as it contains violence and some foul language. Now without Further ado though I give you Dragonborn Book One: Rise of the Dovah!

Chapter 1: Slow Boat to Akavir

To Madam Sabine, High Rock

“Nocrom, Morrowind 11th of Frostfall, 4E238

You will be pleased to hear that my journey to from the westernmost reaches of Tamriel to the easternmost has been relatively uneventful. I feared I’d be raided by Pirates before leaving the Illiac Bay or hit an Iceberg in the Sea of Ghosts north of Skyrim. Alas, my darling, no adventure to speak of. I suspect this shall change as I attempt to make passage to the continent of Akavir. If I succeed I will be the first inhabitant of Tamriel to set foot on the continent in hundreds of years. Perhaps, the last time this had happened was when the Dunmer hero of Third Era, the Nerevarine, set sail. We don't know what happened to him though, he never returned. I digress though, I will say that the most eventful thing to happen to us was the rescue an elderly Nord in the Sea of Ghosts. Our healers have been working hard to keep him alive and he recently woke up before entering the harbour of Nocrom. This may be the last time you hear from me so take care my darling and if and when I return I will have achieved greatness.

Your Affectionate Husband Raphael”

“Ivulin!” I called, “Get this letter to a courier, quickly now while I see if that old man is awake.”

A dunmer male ran over from the other side of the deck and took the letter from my hands. I watched him as he disembarked the vessel. I had not expected such an excited crew whilst gathering men for this expedition to the continent of Akavir. I was surprised to see that I had to actually review applications. People across High Rock and Hammerfell were clawing at the chance to be part of the grandiose expedition.

I headed below deck to the room where the old Nord we found was quartered. I was surprised to see him at a desk drinking a bottle of mead. He looked as if he had completely recovered from his dip in the Sea of Ghosts. He was not shivering, he had no blanket draped over him, he was simply wearing the clothes provided to him.

“You’re, you’re awake!” I said in shocked manner. The last time I checked on him he was still cold as the Ice from the sea in which we saved from.

“Been awake.” The old man said very calmly. I couldn’t quite place his accent. It reminded me of the local Dunmer’s accent while also seeming Nordic in nature.

“Well now that you’re awake, may I ask who you are and where you're from?” I asked curiously

“Who I am and where I hail from is not important. Might I ask where we are now.

“Eastern Morrowind.” I answered him.

“Really, the last thing I recall, I was sailing East towards High Rock.” The old man explained.

“From where were you sailing?” I asked.

“Solstheim.” he said softly, “Or perhaps someplace in Vvardenfell.”

“Well... you’re back in Morrowind.” I reiterated

“Yes, yes, I heard you the first time.” The old man said said as he looked intently at my waste, “That sword...”

“What about it?” I asked not understanding his fascination with it.

“Allow me to see it, let me see the blade.” The old man asked excitedly.

I unsheathed the blade revealing the finely curved katana. It was a sword made by The Blades, who themselves got the design from the Akaviri. The sword, in addition to being a fine tool for combat and status was also a great tool to study the Akaviri. Perhaps when I arrive on the shores of the far off land that my sword will somehow be a means of mutual respect between me and the native population. I gently handed the old man the sword and he got up from his chair. He began to swing the sword around in such a manor that I have never seen. I could tell right then, this man was a master swordsman.

“Don’t strain yourself.” I warned.

The old man ignored me and picked up an iron short sword that was leaning against a dresser and handed the katana back to me.

“I wish to have a quick bout, let’s see if you know how to use that sword!” the old man said as he stood ready for combat.

I took him up on this offer thinking that even though he was clearly talented that all I would need to do is over power the old man. I took the first swing which was quickly blocked by the old man. He pivoted around forcing me to withdraw from the engagement.

“Impressive for an old man.” I said calmly as I went in for another attack. This time he parried the attack and took a step back.

“Still think you can win this?” The old man asked smiling at me intently.

“Of course!” I said as a prepared another attack. This time he did not move, he simply stood there waiting for me. As I drew closer I saw him open his mouth.

“ZUN!” He shouted as a wave of energy pulled my blade from my very grasp.

I was in utter shock, this man had just disarmed me by uttering a single phrase. The word also knocked me to the floor as well. I sat there on the floor looking at the old man fearfully.

“Who in Oblivion are you!?” I asked with a tinge of fear in my voice.

“My name is Soldin Athin.” He replied.

The name had no meaning to me whatsoever, yet I still felt like I should know who this person is.

“You say that name like I ought to know it.” I retorted

“Sit my friend, I am not here to harm you, allow me to explain my story.” He said as he set the shortsword down.

“My name is Soldin Athin, I hail from Falkreath in Skyrim.” He explained, “Now I do not know exactly why I was sailing the Sea of Ghosts and I do extend my deepest gratitude towards you and your crew for saving my life but you should not have wasted the energy.”

“Why is that, every person is capable of great things and when someone is in need it is our duty as people to help.”

“Greatness, now there's a pretty subject.” he said in a serious tone, “Some men are born great, others earn it, some even have greatness thrust upon them. I myself believe that a little of all three was involved in the great deeds I have done, but also those deeds I’d rather forget.”

Soldin looked at me intently as he continued.

“Why are you here? I mean this a the literal sense.” Soldin asked

“I plan on sailing to Akavir.” I explained

“And you consider this to be a great deed, if you so accomplish the perilous voyage across the mighty sea will your name go down in history?” Soldin continued, “I know mine won’t, my deeds will be credited to a different man; a man that has done things that have gone down in history..”

“I don’t follow, did you write a book someone took credit for or somthing?” I inquired.

Soldin ignored my question and continued.

“Do you wish to know how I got these scars?” Soldin asked as he pulled his hair back from the right side of his face.

He said scars but they were more a combination of burns and gashes. It looked hideous.

“My entire life I have hid my face from the public, because of an incident with a dragon back during the beginning of the dragon crisis.” Soldin explained

“That was more than 50 years ago.” I remarked

“Yes, but in order for this story to make sense I must start from the beginning." Soldin said politely

Chapter 2: The Lead up of Events

I was born in the 172nd year of the Fourth Era. On the Twelfth of Second Seed to be more accurate. I was to be born under fortunate circumstances. My parents were wealthy nobles in Windhelm, they had strong ties to the Stormcloaks in Palace of Kings. My father also served as an officer in the Imperial Army. Now as you might know I was born during the height of the Great War against the Aldmeri Dominion.

I may of been born into nobility but my life took a drastic turn for the worse before I was even born. My father had died defending the Imperial City. To make matters worse my mother did not survive giving birth to me. My family was all dead before I could even have learned to speak. If not for one saint of woman I would have been on the street or in an orphanage.

Tadali, my parents maid, took me in. She raised me as her own as she had none of her own. She spent every Septim she could to send me to school. At home Tadali taught me basic magic, for practical housekeeping purposes like lighting a fire and heal my own wounds.

At the school I learned everything a Nordic child needed to know. Reading, writing, and of course Imperial Nationalism. However, one book they had us study was of a peculiar nature. It was not in a language that anybody knew but our teacher told us that we must interpret it without any help. Everyone else was lost and wrote down nothing or their best guesses on what the scratch mark letters actually meant. I, however, understood it. This shocked the teacher and I was immediately whisked to the Palace of Kings. I was told to read what I had written down on my paper to the new Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak. To this day I still remember what I had read.

“Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn, To keep evil forever at bay! And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout, Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!

Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago, And the tale, boldly told, of the one! Who was kin to both wyrm, and the races of man, With a power to rival the sun!

And the voice, he did wield, on that glorious field, When great Tamriel shuddered with war! Mighty Thu'um, like a blade, cut through enemies all, As the Dragonborn issued his roar!

And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, That when brothers wage war come unfurled! Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, With a hunger to swallow the world!

But a day, shall arise, when the dark dragon's lies, Will be silenced forever and then! Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw! Dragonborn be the savior of men!”

Ulfric was astonished by this but he allowed me to return home. I was a mere ten years of age when this happened. I didn’t understand what the big deal was. It came as naturally to me as eating or even breathing. I didn’t feel very special, I simply read a book.

Later on that evening a finely dressed man came to our door. Tadali answered it I was upstairs watching from the balcony and I could not discern what was being said. I could hear that the conversation escalated into Tadali shouting at the man to leave. He complied with this demand. I asked her what had happened but she told me not to worry about it, so I didn’t.

Later on in the week Tadali was walking me to school when a guard saw her as we were leaving the Gray-Quarter. He walked up to us at a high rate of speed as he drew his steel battleaxe.

“You! Grayskin!” He said condescendingly, “what are you doing with that child, where are his parents?”

“His parents are both dead, I adopted him.” Tadali explained

We had similar troubles with guards before, Tadali usually just showed the guard a paper and we were sent on our way. This time seemed different though. The guard seemed to be very agitated.

“I don’t believe you, the child is coming with me and you are under arrest for kidnapping!” The guard said angrily.

“I have the papers right here sir.” Tadali said respectfully as she reached into her bag.

“Stop that!” The guard yelled as he swung the axe sideways towards her neck. The battleaxe sliced right through her neck, slicing it clean off.

I watched this scene unfold in horror as the guard killed my adoptive mother in cold blood. I saw the guard coming towards me and (in the mindset that I was the next one to die) I ran as fast as I could back through the Gray-Quarter. I managed to lose the guard by ducking into an alleyway that has hidden by a bale of hay. I wandered through the Gray-Quarter for about an hour looking for a friendly face, I eventually found my way to a large open gate that led to the docks.

When I exited the city I saw a vast port. Many Ships were docked and I could even see one leaving the port heading east up the river. I looked around the corner and saw a guard coming in my direction. He hadn’t seen me and I ducked into a small tent near the gate. After a minute or so I heard footsteps coming towards the tent and I saw what at the time I could only describe as a cat-man. Khajiit were prohibited from entering the city so I had never actually seen one. In my youth though I was thoroughly scared of the strange site.

“What in Akatosh’s name are you!?” I asked in a scared tone.

“This one is Khajiit, Nord child.” The cat man said in a strange accent.

“What’s that?” I asked with a more curious tone.

“Khajiit are a feline race native to Elsweyr. The Khajiit explained, “This one wishes to know why you are hiding in my tent.”

“The guards just killed my mother and now they are after me!” I said with panicked gestures.

“Hmm, this one sees the situation you are in,” The khajiit said calmly, “The guard is coming this way, hide in the cabinet over their.”

I did what the Khajiit man said and stuffed my self in an empty cabinet. It was pitch black inside but I could hear the footsteps of the guard.

“You! Cat; have you seen a young Nord boy run past hear?”

“Ma’zaka has seen the boy you are looking for, he stowed away on that merchant ship docked over their.” The Khajiit man lied.

“Thank you!” The guard said swiftly. I then heard him run out of the tent.

“Come out young one, it is safe.” Ma’zaka said calmly

I opened the doors of the cabinet to see Ma’zaka peering out of his tent. He looked back at me.

“Thank you so much sir, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” I said with a gratuitous tone.

“It is Ma’zaka that should be thanking you, the ship that I just sent that guard to is a major trade rival of mine, I happen to know that he smuggled a few hundred cases of sleeping tree sap from Argonia, which the guard will find while looking for you.” Ma’zaka explained

I hardly understood what he was talking about but I continued to give my thanks to him.

“Where will you go now young one?” Ma’zaka asked intently

“I really don’t know sir, I have no family elsewhere.” I explained

“Well then young one, you shall find family Elsweyr.” Ma’zaka said with a light chuckle, “Come young one, you shall come with Ma’zaka.”

Ma’zaka threw me a small cloak and he led me from his tent to a medium sized trading vessel.

“This is my ship, the Waning Secunda, she is named for the one of the phases of the moons, which are very important to Khajiit.”

“Why are the phases of the moons so important to your people?” I asked innocently.

“The phases of the moons determine what breed of Khajiit we are born as. I was born under Masser’s waxing phase while Secunda was full. So I was born Cathay.” Ma’zaka explained, “Here allow me to introduce you to the rest of the crew.”

Ma’zaka led me up a wooden ramp where I met the crew of the Waning Secunda. I met a variety of Khajiit breeds on board of the Waning Secunda. We set sail the next morning, their I left Windhelm behind; I did not return to the dreadful place for over a decade. Ma’zaka immediately put me to good use, first as a general labourer but as the years went by I eventually became instrumental for trading in the provinces of men. You see, the Khajiit were generally shunned by most races, especially the Nords in Skyrim. It did not help that the kingdoms of Elsweyr were client states of the Aldmeri Dominion, the state that the Empire of Tamriel just fought, and arguably lost, a bitter war against. I became a liaison of sorts, I was able to take the exotic goods into the cities of High Rock, Hammerfell, Skyrim, Cyrodiil, and Morrowind. Their I sold them at very high prices and brought the riches back to Ma’zaka and his crew. By the time I was Seventeen I had become Ma’zaka’s first mate and had amassed a decent enough fortune of my own. That was until we had got caught out in a bad storm of the east coast of Elsweyr. The ship capsized and I believed myself to be the only one that got out alive. I washed up on the shore of Southern Cyrodiil a week later when I was found by an elderly fisherman who nursed my back to health. Afterwards I decided to start my life over in Cyrodiil.

I moved to Cheydinhal and started a small merchant’s stand in the city. After a year I had a thriving business and was almost wealthy enough to by my building. This caused a lot of anguish with a rival merchant. He knew that I worshipped Talos, something that was outlawed at the end of the First Great War, and he decided to tell the city guards about my secret vice. The next day I was arrested by the guard and was thrown in the dungeon. I was told that a Thalmor Justiciar was on his way to take me away to some “reeducation facility”. I had heard rumors of what the Thalmor did to those who worshiped Talos: They would use them for magical experiments, burn people alive, freeze people alive, even electrocute them. I knew if I didn’t act fast I would be subject to whatever the Thalmor wanted to do to me so I began to plot my escape from Cheydinhal dungeon.

Chapter 3: Ambush

I had made the acquaintance of my cellmate, a Nord named Lokir, and we had hatched a plan to escape. Lokir was a convicted horse thief and he was awaiting sentencing. Because this is not his first offence he was facing the headsman’s axe or a life sentence, so he had just as much reason to escape as I did. The plan was for Lokir to complain about having stomach cramps and he was to demand a healer. After the guard came into the cell I would use the broken off leg of a table to knock him upside the head. After that I get into the guard’s armor and escort Lokir out of the prison. From their we would head north to Skyrim where we would then flee to Hammerfell, far outside of the reach of the Empire or the Thalmor. “Lokir are you ready?” I asked the gruff looking nord.

“Yeah, let’s do this.” Lokir said calmly.

“Ugh, my stomach! Someone call a healer, please!” Lokir cried out in pain.

After a few minutes of constant groaning from Lokir a guard finally came to the cell gate.

“What in Oblivion are you whining about prisoner?” the guard asked rudely

“I’m having really bad cramps, I need a healer.” Lokir explained in a painful tone

I had the table leg I was to use as a weapon supporting the table so it did not look suspicious. As the guard came in to help Lokir up I readied myself to grab the leg. The guard looked down at Lokir and I took the opportunity to grab the leg and hit the guard over the head with it. The guard fell to the floor, knocked unconscious by the surprise blow to the head. I went ahead and tried to put on the guard’s uniform only to find out that it was too small and I could not fit in it. Lokir attempted to put it on but as he was about to get into another guard walked in. I immediately let loose a stream of fire from my left palm causing the guard to duck as he went to draw his blade. I knocked him over with the table leg and Lokir stabbed him with the sword from the other guard. I grabbed the sword of the guard Lokir just killed and we fought our way to the exit of the dungeon. Somehow we escaped the city and stole two horses that we used to flee to the border with Skyrim.


Skyrim seemed colder than I had remembered, it was the middle of Last Seed so it should have been somewhat warm. My horse began to thrash his head around violently.

“Woah boy...” I said in an attempt to calm the horse down.

“Soldin, did you hear something?” Lokir asked me looking over at a rock outcropping.

Suddenly a small band of Nordic men dressed in blue light armour came running out from behind the outcropping. They were followed by a group of Imperial Legionnaires. We were approached by one of the Legionnaires that saw us.

“What are you two doing here?” He asked in a disrespectful tone.

“Uh, we just crossed into skyrim and were on our way up to Windhelm.” Lokir answered nervously.

“Both of you get off your horses!” The legionnaire demanded.

We complied with his demands and we dismounted our horses. The legionnaire then drew his sword and hit Lokir over the head with the hilt.

“Sir, we are innocent travelers!” I pleaded.

Suddenly I saw him go to do the same to me. I shut my eyes and braced myself for a hard blow to the head.

Chapter 3: Ambush

I had made the acquaintance of my cellmate, a Nord named Lokir, and we had hatched a plan to escape. Lokir was a convicted horse thief and he was awaiting sentencing. Because this is not his first offence he was facing the headsman’s axe or a life sentence, so he had just as much reason to escape as I did. The plan was for Lokir to complain about having stomach cramps and he was to demand a healer. After the guard came into the cell I would use the broken off leg of a table to knock him upside the head. After that I get into the guard’s armor and escort Lokir out of the prison. From their we would head north to Skyrim where we would then flee to Hammerfell, far outside of the reach of the Empire or the Thalmor. “Lokir are you ready?” I asked the gruff looking nord.

“Yeah, let’s do this.” Lokir said calmly.

“Ugh, my stomach! Someone call a healer, please!” Lokir cried out in pain.

After a few minutes of constant groaning from Lokir a guard finally came to the cell gate.

“What in Oblivion are you whining about prisoner?” the guard asked rudely

“I’m having really bad cramps, I need a healer.” Lokir explained in a painful tone

I had the table leg I was to use as a weapon supporting the table so it did not look suspicious. As the guard came in to help Lokir up I readied myself to grab the leg. The guard looked down at Lokir and I took the opportunity to grab the leg and hit the guard over the head with it. The guard fell to the floor, knocked unconscious by the surprise blow to the head. I went ahead and tried to put on the guard’s uniform only to find out that it was too small and I could not fit in it. Lokir attempted to put it on but as he was about to get into another guard walked in. I immediately let loose a stream of fire from my left palm causing the guard to duck as he went to draw his blade. I knocked him over with the table leg and Lokir stabbed him with the sword from the other guard. I grabbed the sword of the guard Lokir just killed and we fought our way to the exit of the dungeon. Somehow we escaped the city and stole two horses that we used to flee to the border with Skyrim.


Skyrim seemed colder than I had remembered, it was the middle of Last Seed so it should have been somewhat warm. My horse began to thrash his head around violently.

“Woah boy...” I said in an attempt to calm the horse down.

“Soldin, did you hear something?” Lokir asked me looking over at a rock outcropping.

Suddenly a small band of Nordic men dressed in blue light armour came running out from behind the outcropping. They were followed by a group of Imperial Legionnaires. We were approached by one of the Legionnaires that saw us.

“What are you two doing here?” He asked in a disrespectful tone.

“Uh, we just crossed into skyrim and were on our way up to Windhelm.” Lokir answered nervously.

“Both of you get off your horses!” The legionnaire demanded.

We complied with his demands and we dismounted our horses. The legionnaire then drew his sword and hit Lokir over the head with the hilt.

“Sir, we are innocent travelers!” I pleaded.

Suddenly I saw him go to do the same to me. I shut my eyes and braced myself for a hard blow to the head.

Chapter 4: Unbound

After what seemed like a few minutes I had regained consciousness. I found myself traveling through a forest in a carriage driven by an Imperial Soldier. Directly in front of me I saw a Nordic man with a very muscular build and blonde hair with a small braid going down the side of his face. I was unsure of where we were. The climate seemed to be somewhat warmer than that of the Southern Rift in which I had entered Skyrim through. For all I knew I could have been on my way back to Cyrodiil. I looked around at the other men in the carriage. Directly next to me was man in a thick black coat. He had an aura of authority surrounding him but he seemed despondent. On closer inspection I also noticed he had gag covering his mouth. Across from him was Lokir who seemed to be awake as well. Another Imperial Soldier was riding behind us.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake.” The man in front of me said softly, “You were trying to cross the border right, walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over their.”

“Yeah, me and Lokir had just escaped an Imperial prison in Cyrodiil.” I explained

“Damn you Stormcloaks, Skyrim was fine until you came along, the empire was nice and lazy!” Lokir scoffed, “We could have been half way to Hammerfell by now.”

“We’re all brothers in binds now, thief.” The man retorted.

“Shut up back their!” The guard driving the carriage ordered.

I recognized his voice as the one who stopped me and Lokir at the border.

“What’s wrong with him, huh?” Lokir said gesturing towards the man in the black coat.

“Watch your tongue, you’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!” The man scolded.

“Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm, you’re the leader of the rebellion!” Lokir said with disdain, “But if they captured you, oh gods where are they taking us!?”

“I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.” The man said ominously, “Hey what village are you from horse thief?”

“Why do you care?” Lokir asked despondently.

“A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.” The man said in a more caring tone.

“Rorikstead, I’m from Rorikstead.” Lokir revealed.

The carriage began to pull up to a city gate.

“General Tullius sir, the Headsman is waiting!” The guard shouted in a very respectful tone as the city gate began to open.

“Good, let’s get this over with.” A gruff sounding Imperial man said shallowly to the soldier.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me." Lokir pleaded

“The Gods can’t save us now.” I said solemnly to him.

“Theirs General Tullius the Military Governor, and it looks like the Thalmor are with him.” The man said aggressively while gesturing to the Imperial General talking to a couple of Thalmor Soldiers and an important looking Altmer woman.

Beyond the walls was what seemed to be a cross between a small city and a large town. Their was plenty of people roaming around. Although a lot of the activity seemed to be related to the spectacle that was about to take place.

“This is Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from here, I wonder if Vilod still makes that mede with juniper berries mixed in.” Ralof reminisced.

After all of this I was back in the hands of the Empire. Everything I had gone through to escape the Empire and avoid the Thalmor and I wind up with my hands bound again by happenstance! Was this a brutal twist of fate, the will of the Gods, or was it just dumb luck? Whatever the case, I was to die that day. The carriage soon came to a stop in between two other carriages.

“Why are we stopping?” Lokir asked

“Why do you think, end of the line.” The man said ominously, “Let’s go, shouldn’t keep the Gods waiting for us.”

We all got up and made our way off of the carriage.

“No wait, we aren’t rebels!” Lokir said in a panicked tone, “You can’t do this!”

“Face your death with some courage, thief” The man scolded him.

“Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!” A female imperial captain ordered.

“Empire loves their damn lists.” The man said harshly

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.” A soldier read off from a list.

Ulfric walked towards the block a few feet away.

“It’s been an honor, Jarl Ulfric.” The man said softly.

“Ralof of Riverwood.” The soldier read.

The man who had first spoke to me walked forward and towards the block.

“Lokir of Rorikstead.”

Upon hearing his name Lokir bolted between the two Imperials.

“Halt!” the captain shouted, “Archers!”

An Archer standing behind the captain took one well aimed arrow and shot Lokir in the head. He immediately fell to to the ground.

“Anyone else feel like running?!” The captain shouted condescendingly

“Hey, you there.” The Imperial Soldier said to get my attention, “Who are you?”

“I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I have always been loyal to the empire!” I pleaded with the soldier

“Ma’am, he’s not on the list what should we do?” The soldier asked.

“He goes to the block.” The captain said harshly

“By your orders captain.” The soldier said obediently “I’m sorry, at least you’ll die here, in your homeland.”

I walked over to the block amid a crowd of Stormcloak rebels as General Tullius was speaking to Ulfric.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Skyrim call you a hero but a hero doesn’t use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne!” Tullius preached.

Ulfric tried to speak but he could not get a word out through his gag.

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

After Tullius’s speech I heard a roar coming from the northern skys.

“What was that?” One of the soldiers asked

“It was nothing, carry on.” Tullius ordered, anxious to see Ulfric’s head fly off”

“Give them their last rights!” The captain ordered a priestess.

She began to speak but was quickly cut off by a red haired stormcloak who marched up to the block shouting “For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!”

The captain forced the man to kneel and he rested his head on the chopping block.

“My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?” he asked as the axe came down upon his neck, slicing it clean off.

There was a combination of boos and cheers from the crowd in response to the execution.

“Next the Nord in the rags!” THe captain shouted while gesturing at me.

I heard the roar again as I was walking to the block. I was knelt down by the Captain and I rested my head on the block. They didn’t even have the decency to clean it or remove the other head from the basket. I could smell and feel the other man’s blood on my neck. The headsman lifted his axe up into the air but before he could bring it down upon my neck I saw a huge, black, winged beast land atop the tower in front of me. He released some kind of burst of energy from his mouth that knocked the headsman off balance.

“Dragon!” I heard one woman scream.

“Don’t just stand their kill that thing!” I heard another man that sounded like Tullius shout.

I got up from the block and got hold of my scenes. I saw Ralof in front of me signaling for me to follow him. I followed Ralof into the tower where the rest of the Stormcloaks had barricaded themselves into.

“Jarl Ulfric could the legends be true?” Ralof asked the Jarl in a panicked tone.

“Legends don’t burn down villages.” Ulfric responded.

“Up through the tower let’s go!” Ralof ordered

I obediently went up the stairs to find a stormcloak soldier moving rocks out of the way so that we could escape. Suddenly though the dragon broke through the side of the tower and began to breathe fire into the tower. I tried to duck away from the flames but the right side of my face was caught up in the dragon’s fire. I screamed out in pain as the dragon let loose his deadly flames. I could not get to my face to heal it either as my hands were bound behind me. I slowly worked through the pain and got up. I could still see through my left eye that their was an inn on the other side that I could jump down to to escape the tower. So I jumped down and landed on my back. I rolled down from the second floor to the first floor where I got up and ran to a small group of people hiding behind a building that was on fire. I saw the soldier that was reading the list there with an older man and a small child. I saw that he saw me and I panicked for a second.

“Still alive prisoner, keep close to me if you want to stay that way.” He said reassuringly

“Gunnar, take care of the boy I have to group up with General Tullius and join the defense.” The soldier ordered.

“Gods guide you Hadvar.” Gunnar said respectfully.

I followed Hadvar through the city avoiding the dragon and dodging falling debris. Eventually Hadvar and I saw Ralof near the entrance to the keep that me and Hadvar were to use as an escape.

“Ralof, you damn traitor, out of my way!” Hadvar ordered.

“We’re escaping Hadvar, you’re not stopping us this time!” Ralof responded angrily.

“With me prisoner!” Hadvar yelled.

“Come on this way!” Ralof shouted.

The decision on who to go with seemed obvious, Hadvar was part of the same group that ordered my death, while Ralof was not. And while Hadvar helped me get through the city if he meets back up with his superiors my head would once again be at risk of being shaved off. The choice was clear, I followed Ralof into the keep. Inside the keep I saw a dead Stormcloak over by a table. Me and Ralof ran over to him and knelt down.

“We’ll meet again in Sovngarde brother.” Ralof said solemnly, “You should take Gunjar’s gear. He won’t be needing it anymore.”

I dawned the stormcloak armor and boots, both of which fit surprisingly well, and picked up his iron axe. We tried to figure out a way to open one of the gates but with little success. We then heard two Imperials walking towards one of the gates. We hid just out of sight of them and ambushed them as they walked through. I grabbed the woman who had ordered me to the block and chopped off her head with my axe while Ralof used his dual axes to dispatch of the other soldier.

“Look who’s heads rolling now, bitch.” I said darkly as the captain’s head rolled away from me.

“Let’s see if one of them has a key.” Ralof said as he searched the Imperial he killed.

I went ahead and searched the captain and found a key in her knapsack. I walked over to the other side of the room and unlocked the iron bar gate. I followed Ralof down a large spiral staircase. At the bottom the ceiling caved in front of us.

“Damn, that dragon don’t give up easy.” Ralof said in an almost impressed tone.

“There's a door here let’s go!” I said as I opened the door to a small store room. I saw two Imperials rummaging through chests and barrels. I ran in and sliced through both of them with my axe. I had incurred a small injury on my forearm from one of their swords but I immediately healed it. I searched through the barrels and threw some potions into my knapsack and continued on to the next room with Ralof right behind. At this point I have really taken the lead. We advanced further down into the keep. I heard yelling from down below and I rushed down to find a hooded Imperial shooting lightning at a pair of Stormcloaks while another Imperial ran at them with a mace. I drew my axe and went in to slash at him from behind before he saw me; however, he acted quickly and drew his dagger. He used the dagger to parry the blow from my axe. Ralof then came in and shot the hooded Imperial in the head killing him instantly. The other Stormcloaks had quickly dispatched of the mace wielding Imperial after I took their attention off of the Imperial mage.

“Troll’s blood, a torcher room!” Ralof said astonishingly.

“Captain Ralof where are the others?” One of the Stormcloaks asked.

“I doubt anyone else made it out alive, and if they did they escaped via a different route then I.” Ralof explained, “Hey there's some money in that cage, here’s some picks, see if you can get it open.”

Ralof handed me fifteen or so lock picks and I carefully opened the lock utilizing the picks. I gathered the money and valuables off of the corpse inside the cage, as well as the dagger off of the Imperial mage.

We continued further down where we encountered a group of Imperial archers who were conveniently standing in oil. A quick burst of flames lit all of them ablaze. Unfortunately however, the other two Stormcloaks perished in the ensuing battle. Ralof and I continued further down.

“Are you sure this will lead us out of here?” I asked Ralof

“The Imperials are trying to escape via the same route, it must.” Ralof reassured.

We came to a large open cavern. Ralof stopped me when he saw the amount of webs in the open cavern.

“Look, there's some frostbite spiders hanging out in that cavern.” Ralof whispered.

Ralof pointed out the two large, brown spiders near the center.

He took out his longbow and drew two iron arrows from his quiver. He shot off both arrows in quick succession, killing both spiders. Ralof then confidently walked into the room. I followed him slowly until I looked up and saw a giant frostbite spider crawling down from a large hole in the ceiling.

“Ralof look out!” I shouted as I released a stream of fire from my fingertips. The spider jumped down from his burrow on top of, knocking me to the floor. The spider reared up before it tried to land the finishing blow but was swiftly cut in half by Ralof, dual weilding iron axes. The “blood” of the arachnid was clear blue and cold as ice. I pushed the remains of the arachnid off of me only to see another spider. This one shot a sticky, blue enzym out of its mandibles and straight into Ralof’s face. I ran up to the spider flames coming from my left hand while I raised my axe in my right. Once I was in striking distance I brought the blade of the axe down into the many eyes of the spider, killing it.

“Hate those damn things, too many eyes you know.” Ralof said in a very matter of fact tone for what had just occurred. I suppose it is to be expected from a soldier fighting a war.

I continued to follow ralof until we reached another large open section of the cave. This part of the cave was oddly lush. A small creek ran through in and many ferns and even a few small trees grew in the cavern, most likely supplied by light coming in through holes in the ceiling.

“Hold there, there's a bear over their, see her.” Ralof whispered urgently, “I’d rather not tangle with her right now, best if we snuck by; or, if you’re feeling lucky take my bow and quiver, see if we can catch her by surprise.”

I was trained well enough with the bow. I always went out hunting when Ma’zaka pulled into port. I took an arrow from the quiver and placed it on the bow. I slowly pulled back the draw string and carefully aimed at the bear’s head. I released the string and the arrow flew at the bear faster than the eye could see. I did however, see the arrow go into the bear’s skull. Quick and painless, just how I was taught. When you’re raised by people that are part animal you hold a certain respect for the non-sapient beings that inhabit Nirn. I motioned to give the bow back to Ralof.

“No, keep it as something to remember me by.” Ralof said with a chuckle.

I strapped the bow to my back and walked down to the creek. I saw a small puddle of water that was standing still that was illuminated by a small crack of sunlight. I looked into and saw something I could not comprehend. It was my reflection; I’ve seen it before but the sight of my face this time revealed that the right half of my face was left hideously burned by the dragon. I tried to use my healing spell on my face to restore my skin but it was too late. I saw an iron war helmet with characteristic horns protruding from the side sitting on a wooden cart. I put the helmet on. It completely masked my face from both myself and the world. At this very moment Soldin Athin died and in his place is a man without moral or sin, a man who was ruthless but had a heart, a man who would go down in history as The Last Dragonborn. �