No.
"Hey, you"
No no.
"You're finally awake."
Oh no no no no.
"You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
Oh lord I'm in Skyrim. Why? Of all people to put in a world filled with death at every corner why pick me? A new high school graduate with a penchant for crappy relationships and keeping a horrible work ethic. Just, Akatosh, or whoever plucked me from my world, I want you to know, you're a dick. Just cuz I pretend that killing someone would have no effect on me doesn't mean I actually want to be shoved in a world where I'd have to do it every day!
Okay, being angry isn't going to do anything for me. We don't seem to be super close to Helgen yet so I have some time to think. Ralof is sat in front of me and the thief is next to him. I look and see the man himself, Ulfric fricking Stormcloak, the man who I'm almost sure is being manipulated so hard by the Thalmor that it stings. They were all dirty as hell, which makes sense seeing as we were all caught in an ambush. Now, how's my health? Limbs? All there. See through two eyes? I can wink better now for some reason. Body? Che- Holy hell I'm ripped as hell! Well not ridiculously like a character with the slider all the way up but I was a chubby 18 year old in my world now I'm buff! Okay, awesome but I need to make sure I survive this because this is definitely not just a game anymore. Now, anything else? My body feels weird, like too warm for being in rags in Skyrim, like my body is filled with more energy than I've ever had. Is it Magicka? Because if it's Magicka I see why mages love magic because it feels like the best kind of energy, warm like a blanket in the cold made of super soft material, it's comforting.
I noticed our surroundings become familiar from my memories of the game, the place where that quest for Nettlebane passed us by, and I knew my first encounter with ALDUIN was coming and even with the feeling of Magicka running through my body I was freaking out. Okay, I have a good chance to survive this, and while the underground is super scary nothing compares to fighting Alduin with my hands tied and no armor. Oh god I just realized I'm gonna have to kill some people within the next hour aren't I? Time to see if my mind really will handle it well or if I'll break down like a nice, sane person.
We rolled noisily past the gates of Helgen at a slow pace, and the town looked bigger than in the game. More wall and more houses and such, this wasn't some measly fort this was a whole town of people that are gonna get murdered by a god-dragon who can Shout meteors into existence. Good lord I don't care if killing someone makes me freaking out I'm gonna at least push past it to get as far away from that monster as I can.
The courtyard where the executioner and Tullius waited was almost identical to the game but bigger with a few more people on the edges screaming support or cursing at the Stormcloaks. They let down the backs of the carts and they corralled us like cattle into a line so we cold be executed. Hadvar, as he looked quite similar to in the game, called forward each of us, and I just realized I don't know what race I am! I looked at my skin tone again and took the time to realize what my skin looked like beyond first glance. I had a skin tone between the typical Breton and Nord, so maybe half and half? It would explain not being bothered by the cold and being sensitive to my magicka. And with that solved I realized I needed a name, and I've always been bad at naming characters, now I have to name myself, ugh I need to not think of anything edgy. John? Too plain. Michael? Eh. I need more medieval. Arthur? Maybe. Mordred? Ooh. Daddy likes.
"You can't do this!" Watching Lokir made me flinch a bit because I knew the man was going to get killed in cold blood.
"Archers!"
Iron arrows flew straight and true into Lokir, piercing his back and some hitting his legs, he crumpled and his now corpse kept his running momentum and hit the ground with a sickening thud. So, not as bad as I thought it'd be, but slightly unnerving watching him be taken out so fast.
"Anyone else feel like running?" I can not wait for you to be killed you god awful woman. "Wait, you there. Step forward." Oh he's looking at me. Well he goes nothing. "You, who are you?"
"Mordred, half-Breton half-Nord. You all caught me in your stupid ambush as I was travelling into Skyrim." A lie, but I needed to start my story somewhere. Hadvar looked slightly surprised at that. "Captain, what do we do? They're not on the list." "Forget the list, they'll still go the the block." He looked at me slightly guiltily, and I felt my face twist in anger. This was one of the main reasons I almost never sided with the Imperials, so many seemed to lack honor, and this horrible woman right here condemns the main character, who is now me, to death!
I turned to face the captain and even if this got me killed I was gonna voice my anger. "Hey Captain are you too lazy to do your damn job? Gonna kill an innocent man just because of your own incompetence? There is a reason many in Skyrim mock you, and it's plain to see why!"
Her face contorted into a face of anger and disgust, as if it was an affront to her for me to even look at her, and she walked up to me and glared with a look that would send even minor daedra running. "You wanna repeat that, prisoner? You should be glad I don't send you to the Thalmor, they loving playing with their prey." She hissed at me with venon laced within her voice. She backed up and got back next to Hadvar, who was looking terrified. "Send them on, let's get these criminals executed."
We were forced forward towards the chopping block and seeing fresh and old blood mixed on it made me nervous. Then I heard the roar, and even as far away as it was it sounded scary as hell, like you were stuck in a cage with a lion. One of the guards looked towards the mountain nervously, hesitation clear in his voice. "What was that?" The Captain looked around and smirked, figuring it was just a trick, confidence filling her voice. "Nothing, carry on." They called forward the man next to me? What was his name? The priestess started her prayers, but he caught her off. "Hurry up! I haven't got all morning." That's morbidly true. He went forward and was made to kneel at the chopping block. "My ancestors are smiling upon me, can you say the same?" That got a frown from a few people, and the executioner didn't take kindly to his comment, and he was quickly beheaded. Flesh makes no noise when it's cut, but blood gushing onto stone and metal cutting through bone does. It's a sickening sound, but I can't seem to care. As callous as it is his death prolongs mine long enough for me to live, and I'm thankful, but this world will kill me if I don't stop caring about some things.
Another roar sounded, much louder this time. Alduin was close, and that was horrifying to me.
"Next up, the half-Nord-Breton."
I was pushed forward and my heart near stopped in nervousness. I walked as slow as I could without the Imperial behind me pushing me forward, and eventually I was at the block. They forced me into a kneeling position, my head pressed to the block, the bit of blood that hadn't dripped off or dried clinging to my hair, which I noticed was pitch black, only noticeable because it was pushed into my peripherals by the Imperials rough handling of me. I looked to see the executioner to my left, my head forced towards him, and I could see his sickening grin as he prepared his axe. I heard a booming roar and I knew I was close to being safe. Just a few more seconds. The executioner wound his arms back and was about to swing when Alduin landed on the tower, slabs of stone falling off under his weight. His draconic face seemed to curl into a sneer, and I heard him Shout, and the world went white with a boom.
So... lemme know how it is if you don't mind. It's my first story on a forum, so getting feedback so quickly seems cool, I hope you all like it.
