SKYRIM Could Pull It Off

[SGWylde]

Wrote this in an hour and a half , please read!

 

Oh, And feel free to follow me on Twitter, @Matt_Cantelon

 

A crisp, cold, and bright morning greeted me as I regained consciousness. Although my head still ached and my vision blurred, I could still, vaguely, make out my surroundings. I was seated on the back of a wooden cart, hands bound and twisted uncomfortably behind my back, sending spikes of pain up my arms at the slightest bump of a wheel on rock. Snow-capped trees to either side of the path the wagon was bumping along obscured my vision of more then a couple feet on either side. Large slabs of rock occupied the area adjacent to the winding road. As my vision cleared, I noticed the large cliff faces on either side of the road, thinking to myself that they looked almost familiar. The rough cobblestone path was causing the tension on my already uncomfortable taut shoulder muscles to increase and revert in irregular intervals. The sour aroma of Imperial bred horses filled my nostrils, mercilessly assaulting them with the foul stench. My sense of sight recovering completely, I took in my more immediate surroundings, which consisted of a string of carts like the one I was occupying, scattered throughout the path, seemingly with no set distance between them. A heavy cloud of fog blanketed the front of the procession, preventing me from seeing more then several meters ahead of where I was seated. Each wooden cart was driven by two sleek, dark, horses, being directed by an imperial legionnaire.

 

I directed my attention to the legionnaire directing the horses drawing my cart. He was short, but heavily built, seemingly focused on his task. He was clad in chain mail armor, wearing a dark brown tunic bearing the symbol of the empire (The form of a dragon in the shape of a diamond) along with a thick, leather helmet, which rested firmly upon his head. As the slope of the narrow path increased, I slowly turned my attention to the three other individuals who shared the cramped cart with me. The first my eyes fell upon was a tall man of medium build seated directly across from me. He had long unkempt hair, the color of gold, and a short, straggly beard covering most of his face. He had icy blue eyes, that seemed to be focused on the wooden slats making up the floor of the cart, and pale skin, caked with dirt . He bore the armor of the rebel “Stormcloak” faction of Skyrim, A padded brown tunic with a long blue scarf, wrapped around the neck and slung carelessly across one shoulder. His hands were bound behind his back in a similar fashion to my own, in fact, looking around the cart, I noticed the other two occupants seemed bound as well. The second man was seated next to the first, wearing naught but stain covered rags, encrusted with layer upon layer of dirt. He was shorter then the first, and had a slight build. His hair was long, dark and matted, his eyes large and fearful, frantically searching for some way to escape. My eyes then fell upon the third man, seated next to me. He was extremely tall, and heavily built, though from his hunched posture, it was difficult to tell at first glance. His back was turned to me and his long straw colored hair obscured his face completely, save for the tip of his nose, which protruded out of the curtain of hair. He was clothed in almost regal attire, wearing heavy furs on top of thick, cloth garments. Just then, one of the wheels beneath us struck a rock and jolted us forwards, and for a split second, his eyes locked with mine. They were cold, the color of steel, and seemed to glow with authority. The moment lasted only a quick second before his eyes were again hidden behind the straw colored curtain. The silence between us was broken only by the steady clacking of the horses hooves meeting the stone beneath, the cold southern wind, whistling through the outstretched branches of the deep green pine, and the occasional rustling of a bush as we proceeded past.

 

Suddenly, the Stormcloak seemed to realize I had come to.

 

“Hey you, your finally awake.” He said gruffly.

 

I nodded.

 

“You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us,” He paused “And that thief over there!” Here he nodded towards the second man.

 

“Damn Stormcloaks” Croaked the second man, “Skyrim was fine until YOU came along. Empire was nice, lazy. If they hadnt been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to hammerfell by now” He said angrily, glaring at the first man. He then turned his attention to me; “You there! We shouldn’t be here, its these Stormcloaks the Empire wants!”

 

The first man laughed, “ We're ALL brothers and sisters in binds now, thief” He spat the last word out bitterly, as if it left a bad taste on his tongue.

 

The Imperial in charge of our cart finally seemed to take notice of the talk going on.

“Hey, Shut up back there!”

 

The Thief took no notice of this interruption, instead turning his attention to the third man and whispering “Hey, whats wrong with you?”

 

Suddenly the first man, the Stormcloak with the icy blue eyes seemed to stiffen, “Watch your tongue!” He commanded angrily, “That is Ulfric Stormcloak you're talking to, the TRUE High King of Skyrim”

 

I sat quietly in the stunned silence that followed. So that explains his appearance, and those eyes, eyes that seemed to see straight through you. I was seated next to the single most hated man in all of Skyrim. Finally, the thief seemed to get over his stunned disbelief, stuttering

 

“U-u-ulfric? The Jarl of W-w-w-windhelm?” The thief then grew angry,

“You're the leader of the Rebellion!” He shouted accusingly, oblivious to the angry stare he was receiving from the legionnaire.

“But if they have captured you...” Suddenly a look of blatant horror and realization came over his face, “Oh Gods,” He wimpered, “Where are they taking us?”

 

The thought had not dawned on me before that moment. Sitting, hands bound behind my back, freezing on the back of that rickety wooden cart, I was going to my death. My pulse quickened.

 

The Stormcloak was the only to issue a reply,

“I do not know where we are going,” He stated bluntly “ But I know.. that Sovngarde awaits.”

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

The thief started to frantically twist and pull against his bonds, but to no avail.

“NO..No this cant be happening...” He mumbled to himself. No one paid him any notice.

 

By this time, we had descended a fair distance from where I had originally awoken. The fog had faded and revealed a slightly cloudy, grey sky. The snow that had fallen so thickly only a few minutes ago, caking the surroundings in a soft, white blanket, had given way to brown patches of knee length grass, and the pines that lined the ancient path were now bare of any snow, adding to the increasingly dense foliage surrounding us. Up ahead, a small stone gatehouse suddenly came into view, along with several watchtowers aligned behind it, the straw thatched roofing of tiny stone houses quickly becoming visible after that. We were nearing one of Skyrim's many farming settlements. Breaking the silence, the stormcloak asked in his gravelly voice;

 

“Hey, what village are you from horse thief?”

 

The small man hesitated at first, “ Why do you care?” He spat.

 

“A Nords last thoughts... should be of home” He replied slowly.

 

“Rorikstead” Whispered the thief, “ I'm... I'm from Rorikstead.”

 

The line of carts finally reached the open gate into the hamlet. A shout from a guard clad entirely in chain mail and wearing a helmet that concealed his face, leaning against the cold stone wall, seemed to seal our fate.

 

“ General Tulius,” He said in a clear, booming voice, addressing the legionnaire at the front of the procession “ The headsmen is waiting”

 

“Good” The General replied coldly, “ Lets get this over with.”

 

We were just passing underneath the mossy stone archway, overgrown with centuries worth of vines, entangled throughout the entire gatehouse. As the thief began to cry out the names of the Nine Divines, I took a good long look at the little village we had entered. The “streets” if one could call them that, were made up of narrow trails of broken stone, snaking their way throughout the community. The houses were small and were almost all identical, save for one that I identified by the sign swinging gently in the wind outside, “ The Drunken Giant” Ah, I thought to myself, a pub, and sadly I realized I would never again feel the warmth of the hearthfire and the gentle chill of the Nordic Frost-Whisky I so desperately yearned for. The town was built on a gentle slope, with the houses progressively getting taller as we neared the foot of the hill, as if to make the thatched roofs seem even, despite the varying terrain.

As our cart drew closer and closer to the center of town (Our sure destination) The smell of the frosty air began to change into a sweeter, more welcoming scent of fresh baking, and the delicious scent of roast boar. I noticed a tight group of Thalmor watching over our short journey through the town, in their distinctive black and gold robes. Though most of their faces were covered, there was no mistaking the smile sitting plainly upon their golden lips.

Edited December 9, 2011 by SGWylde

[vertex23]

What was the point of rewriting the intro? We all saw it...

[jy02521671]

very nicely written

 

looking forward to next part

[Roxian]

:blush:

 

I enjoyed reading this, a lot! Really put a smile on my face.

 

Are you going to write more pieces?

[Lutine]

Nicely written!

I love a good story, especially when well written.

Hope you make another installment.

[SGWylde]

Thanks all! I... didn't really think anyone would read this to be honest! :P Well, I've been continuing it bit by bit, and i'll post the next part when it's ready, shouldnt be too long :) Thanks again!

[SGWylde]

What was the point of rewriting the intro? We all saw it...

 

In answer to your question, personally, i just really like reading, and writing. I believe that the Elder Scrolls Series would make excellent books, as the world that they take place in is rich with.. just about everything. I chose to stay completely true to the game because... well, i find it hard to create brand-new ideas, after all, I'm only 15 haha.

[TotalRookie]

Very good with a few grammatical errors. Good for 15 :D I'd love to see you create an original story, or hell, even write the narrative for some of the quests!

Does anyone know where we can upload some fan fiction and get some exposure?? I'd really love to get a good base of fanfic out there for the TES community.

[RejectedCamel]

What was the point of rewriting the intro? We all saw it...

 

In answer to your question, personally, i just really like reading, and writing. I believe that the Elder Scrolls Series would make excellent books, as the world that they take place in is rich with.. just about everything. I chose to stay completely true to the game because... well, i find it hard to create brand-new ideas, after all, I'm only 15 haha.

 

You and I are on the same boat then. I'm 16 and surprisingly uncreative, but I can write very well and love reading, so I started using the Dragon Shout App on my iPhone to keep a journal of whatever my character's doing. It's very fun so far, especially when you write in first person and add in all the details, as well as giving your character a proper personality and past. http://www.thenexusforums.com/public/style_emoticons/dark/psyduck.gif

[TotalRookie]

Oh and btw, I was not at all impressed by the Infernal City novel. Never in my life have I been confident that I can write a better version of a novel, but with that book I am.