Chapter 5: The Bro Code
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If you've ever played the 'sensational' Skyrim. The game that Bethesda will not let die. Please, Elder Scrolls 6 in my lifetime, Todd Howard!
You probably understand that the game itself, is clunky and ugly compared to any contemporary title. The plot is so cut and dry, that I honestly try to forget the main quest. Incredibly shallow. Despite the insane lore. The characters slowly lose out in any meaningful interaction within minutes of talking to them, and your own actions barely have any noticeable effect in the world. Kill most of the population of guards? Just spend some time in jail and no one cares! You're the dragonborn, but you don't feel like you're actually a part of the world. And why would you save a world you don't care about?
I'm exaggerating a little, but Skyrim has many flaws that are known. To all lovers or haters of the game.
As one of those who love the game immensely, I can tell you Skyrim is wonderful and terrible. We know that. It's impossible to ignore the flaws. Yet, I love the game despite its flaws. And it somehow has a thriving modding community which has patiently stuck through the game. Still modding despite, it being past 10 years since its first release. And the mods are incredible, the sheer breadth and creativity can change the base game into practically anything, a Dark Souls game, a new plot, a different plot, A horrifying parody of Pickel Ricks. Porn... Mostly Porn.
So why, Why the obsession, the fascination? There are certainly other games to mod, or enjoy. Why a ten year old game?
It's the freedom of Skyrim.
It is an escape in every meaning of the word. There's nothing you cannot do, no limits, no laws that hold you back, and the modding community takes that further to heights never before imagined. Escapism is the true essence of Skyrim for me. You can fall into the world and run away from everything in the real world. That's why the Elder Scrolls start the player character as a prisoner. It's escaping your chains that you start the game. A metaphorical and narrative escape.
So, you can imagine my disgust at the parody of that famous opening scene. As I follow along in chains with three other men. Not even in a horse carriage! My feet hurt! These guys smell! I want a dragon to show up! Not you Rhea.
"Do you know where they are taking us?" whispers the prisoner in front of me. The back of head doesn't move or turn. Must be talking from the corner of his mouth.
I don't know who his question is directed to. We're all marching in a row, with chains binding our hands to each other. Ducks lining up for a sham trial. The rattle of chains is everpresent, which means that I can barely hear his question.
The man in front of me, can't spin his head to look at us. I- We found out that earlier. Trying to 'escape' or 'collude' would have the guards rough us up. No ethical treatment of prisoner yet. I don't know how we would even escape by talking, well I do, but that's just unnecessary violence!
My ribs still ache from a brutal kick. What did I ever to do to you, faceless mook 1?
Trying to escape would be an exercise in futility, the guards are in that classic medieval (inconsistent) plate armor, and they're clearly trained.
These are not the lazy guards of a cushy palace guard, these are men stationed on the border as the first defense against a war.
Of course, since no one is expecting a war, except the select few in the Empire. These men are actually not the best, nothing compared to the Knights of Serious, I imagine. Heh. What am I saying. Those useless Knights?
However, looking at my chained hands and my thin as a stick body, I don't imagine they'll have much trouble subduing any of us. Fuck. Really need a prophecy to save me.
Jolting me out of my thoughts, a man behind me says, "The House of Bergliez… To be executed most likely"
The guards snickered, "...Save your words for the Goddess." Assholes. Sothis doesn't care. Or can't hear.
Fuck.
It was Caspar's dad. Caspar's dad had Gronder field in his territory?
Okay -Okay Caspar's dad, part of the coup against daddy Edelgard. But also will work with Edelgard in her reverse coup. Coup-tastic. Probably corrupt as all get out then, or maybe a guilty man? Guilty?
That's a thought.
I remember that Caspar is the second son and his brother is a layabout, from the privilege of being an heir. But I know Randolph and Fleche, both dedicated and loyal people. Also part of the Bergliez family. They seemed to be decent folk. Generic. But decent.
Okay, I can work with this. I can escape.
I examine my chains, decent iron. Steel must be reserved for weapons and armor. I glance quickly at the guards and my fellows.
It looks like a general patrol group, One Officer, A sizable Battalion, and some Supply Convoys. All in decent steel armor? Iron armor? I can't tell for sure. Must be steel, because iron would be too heavy. In my old world at least. I never was the best with judging the weights of things. A sword doesn't weigh 10 pounds? Barely 3? Not relevant. Weight huh.
The officer is on a horse, looking slightly fancier, but not by a considerable amount. Doesn't steal from his men's wages? Not a skim off the top kind of officer? Not extremely corrupt then, looks like the Minister of Military Affairs keeps a clean ship. On the borders at least. At home, teh capital? Corruption must be oozing.
The other prisoners are in comparatively worse shape. All of them are wearing peasant clothing; a basic tunic and brown pants mostly loose on their frames. They have shoes, though. So they are better off than me. They must have had other belongings if they were trying to cross the borders, but those should have been confiscated to the supply carriages. Loot?
Healthwise, they look like sturdy farmers if roughed up and bruised, mentally most have already been resigned to their fates. Decent musculature. Farmers are the best recruits for military work after all. This isn't a conscription, right? Has the war started?! No, no impossible.
Wait, was there a border penalty? I thought relations were tense but not this tense. And it can't be a war footing because these guards aren't on edge or in a stronger patrol. I look at my fellows again, farmers, Isn't Bergliez territory the breadbasket of the Empire? There were plenty of fields by Gronder field.
Oh crap! These guys are trying to run from the Empire's territory, they must have worked on Caspar's land. Explains the harsh treatment at least. The guards must have assumed I was either their escaped servant, or just a runaway. And to leave a lord's territory? In favor of another power? Not a great look.
We must have walked though most of the morning at this point, and my feet are looking like bloodied masses of torn flesh at this point. Wait.
No, actually, taking a closer look, they are only mostly blister wounds. My feet must have had calluses like a hobbit's. Ooh? This body may have some advantages after all. I wriggle experimentally in my chains. No unbelievable strength? They're wrought iron, no way I can break these without a little bit of wit then.
"Hey, do you see the keys?" I whisper to my brothers in chains. Wit and some keys.
There's an ordinary keyhole in the middle of the cuffs, with chains leading to the cuff in front of me and behind me. It made the prisoners walk in awkward manner with hands to the side. Like ducks!
It also had the unlucky side effect of needing the lead prisoner have his hands behind his back. Poor bastard in front of me. Might be difficult.
While Caspar's Dad may not be an absolute shit-pile. Generally, nobles look down on serfs and outlanders. Especially on their worst days. I don't fancy taking my chances as a (not)Almyran in a noble land. I choose life.
"...It's on the officer", the previously curious now quiet man in front whispers back to me.
I glance again at the Officer on horseback. I can see the barest glint of a key ring on his belt. The officer is approximately 20 paces in front of me, behind the unit, watching the guards closely and the horizon ever so often. Observant. But...
He doesn't spare the prisoners more than a passing glance.
Seems like he underestimates the might of a college student with no coffee and nothing to lose. Haha.
That'll be his undoing. Yep. Confidence. I take one final read of my surroundings.
That same road path, I walked to Gronder field. Ironic. Fields of corn and now wheat passing us by. Two guards flanking us prisoners, with hands on their swords. A medium sized force of maybe- 30 soldiers ahead. With my ticket to life behind them on horseback. A ticket to freedom heavily armed.
A supply caravan with two carriages and 2 horses each move along in front of the battalion. And what must be the rest of the battalion ahead of those horses.
The sun is at its apex and the heat is oppressive, perfect.
One, Two
In and out. Again! Faster!
I take quick breaths in fast succession, gearing my body to act as quickly as possible. Cycling oxygen through my body.
An image forms in my mind,
That moment of silence and stillness just before you land a perfect parry, a perfect play on a game.
Let's fucking go.
I begin. Purposefully tripping myself and the bleak fellow behind me in a quick motion.
"Agh!"
I scream out, barely faking it as I land painfully on an elbow into my soft side.
The guards move to us, one hand still on their swords, each forcefully pulling both of us up one-handed.
"Get up!" Yells my guard, his grip on my arm hard and his gaze annoyed.
The prisoner line has stopped because of my fall, and the Officer on horseback has turned his horse to this way.
Perfect, cept my ribs.
In one fluid motion, derived from the lack of hesitation I put into my action, I quickly trip the guard pulling me.
My leg sweeps his ankle and his grip loosens from shock. He falls to the ground. The other guard shouts at me. And starts to draw his sword.
Drop. I then wrap my chain around the guard on the ground. Got his neck now! Distract.
"Stop!"
I don't make any more demands. These men while not likely to sacrifice one of their own, are trained soldiers. They can and will capitalize on any moment of opportunity I give them. The more time I waste here, the more time they can use to bring their full force to bear. More opportunities more risk.
The guard pulling on the other downed prisoner stops drawing his blade. Listening to my command.
Because of me wrapping my chain around my hostage's neck, the front prisoner has been forced to move towards us as he's pulled to me, trying to not trip.
I wrap the chain securely around my guard-hostage's neck. Pulling away from the main force by moving backwards, I see that the officer has started to gallop to us and has called a contingent of archers as well. Thats..not good. I was hoping he wouldn't think and just rush me.
Fuck they're smart.
I begin to search through my hostage clothes with my cuffed hands, entrusting the hold to the front prisoner. It's an awkward affair.
He's terrified, but so is my hostage. Two scared and desperate people. Not so different now.
I'm moving with a plan, and in their panicked state, I must be moving too quickly to properly react. I hope so. I grab, just what I thought he must have, a sidearm dagger.
With my new weapon, I slice the belt of my hostage. Dropping his sword belt to the ground as we steadily moved further back.
Unfortunately, his trousers also dropped. Damn. That's on me. My B.
Embarrassing, in that stunned moment. For him. I see that the other guard has stopped moving for a second. Trying to close his eyes instinctively on seeing another man's underwear. I can't afford to close my eyes. So, I saw it all.
I rush the stunned guard. Tackling him to the ground, with the full force of a probably-150 pound body. Woah! The chain chokes my hostage and drags the entire prisoner line with me. As I already pulled the line taut. When I found the dagger. Can't be too prepared.
In short order, most of the prisoner fall upon this poor guard.
Chaos ensues.
From the ensuing scuffle, I make sure to cut his sword belt as well, and sheath the sword back fully. While I'm at it. Locking the sword in place for now. I punch his ribs, just for good luck. Tee hee.
The officer arrives with his archer contingent. And most of the battalion has stopped. Shit. He's waiting just outside of lunging distance and is prepared to cut me down with an axe as easily he would any other untrained rebellious serf.
This officer is smart, and the challenge that poses, rises in me like a rush of caffeine. Heh. Needed that.
I don't realize but I'm grinning like a loon. I've never felt so alive before. And even in this miserable condition. This shitty situation. My grin stretches across my face, carefree and smug.
I disengage from the ongoing scuffle. Now with: two half naked guards, and a group of three roughed up but somehow in better shape prisoners, and various pants and belts everywhere.
I lost the dagger in the melee, but I managed to disarm my two guards and embarrass them for beating me up.
Now the hard part.
"Well, Well... A fine day to you, officer." Smirking at the next victim of my shenanigans. Of my Escape.
Just like Skyrim, I manage to do things in the most chaotic way possible.
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A.N.
Edited (3/28/2022). Added the symbolism I wanted. Made it Flow a lot more smoothly. Closer to my more established style. Les fancy, but more fun. Didn't change much of the already present stuff beyond that. Have a nice day!
