The Strength of Ysgramor

Hadvar and I had gotten into Riverwood near nightfall. The town was quiet enough, the soft clucking of chickens and the distant barking of a dog filling the air. There was also the faint grating sound of the smithy that was near the edge of the town, and Hadvar walked towards it, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion.

‘Uncle Alvor!’

A large blonde man appeared at the steps. ‘Hadvar…what are you doing here? Are you on leave from…’ he trailed off, staring at the burns and soot covering his nephew. His eyes swept over me, and widened. ‘Shor’s bones! What happened to you boy? Are you in some kind of trouble-?’

‘Uncle, please,’ Hadvar cut across him, whispering urgently, ‘keep your voice down. I’m fine, but we should go inside to talk.’

‘What’s going on? And who’s this?’ Alvor looked at me as if he’d spotted a Draugr in his midst.

‘She’s a friend…saved my life in fact. Come on, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go inside.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Alvor replied, still looking as spooked as ever, ‘Come inside then. Sigrid will get you something to eat and you can tell me all about it.’

Hadvar motioned for me to follow him, and his uncle led us to the door near the smithy. Inside was quaint enough, two beds occupied half of the room, with a small end table. The other half was taken up by a hearth, and a dining table full of ingredients. A small opening in the floor nearby probably held a cellar, and I heard a woman’s voice singing from within.

‘Sigrid!’ Alvor called, ‘We have company!’

The singing stopped abruptly, and a woman emerged from the cellar. Behind her was a small soot-covered girl, her face brown from the sun.

‘Hadvar! We’ve been so worried about you!’ Sigrid exclaimed, she looked at me in slight surprise, but regained her composure at once. ‘Come, you two must be hungry. Sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.’

She ushered me into a seat near the fire, and almost threw Hadvar into his. He smiled ruefully at her smothering, and exchanged a warm glance with her. His uncle called him to attention again.

‘Now, then boy…what’s this big mystery? What are you doing here, looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?’

‘I don’t know where to start…you know I was assigned to General Tullius’ guard.’ Hadvar began, ‘We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked… by a dragon.’

‘A dragon? That’s…ridiculous,’ Alvor’s voice grew tired, ‘You aren’t drunk, are you boy?’

‘Husband.’ Sigrid chided, ‘Let him tell his story.’

‘He’s not drunk,’ I spoke up for the first time, ‘I was there, and I assure you…that was a dragon we saw.’

‘There isn’t much more to tell…the dragon flew over and wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion,’ Hadvar continued, ‘I don’t know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I’d have made it out myself if not for Aurelia here. I need to get back to Solitude, and let them know what’s happened. I thought you could help us out; food, supplies, a place to stay…’

‘Of course!’ his uncle said hastily, ‘Any friend of Hadvar’s is a friend of mine. I’ll help out any way I can.’

Sigrid placed two steaming bowls of stew in front of us and gave a tiny sigh, ‘If a dragon attacks Riverwood…’

‘There’d be little to no way to stop it.’ Alvor finished for her.

Hadvar dipped his spoon into the stew and looked thoughtful, ‘You have to get word to the Jarl in Whiterun.’

‘We can discuss that later,’ Alvor said, ‘you two look like hell. Eat for now, and Sigrid will heat some water for a bath. Tomorrow we can decide what to do.’

I took a mouthful of stew. It was pretty good, and sent warm waves of satisfaction through my aching body. I felt like it was an effort to even keep my head upright. Hadvar seemed to be sharing my experience, because he soon just leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The little girl appeared at his elbow.

‘Hadvar, did you really see a dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?’

Hadvar tiredly opened his eyes and looked down at her, but his aunt rescued him before he had to answer.

‘Hush child. Don’t pester your cousin.’

The girl settled back into her chair, looking irritated. She glanced at me and quickly looked away, as if she was scared. I probably looked like crap. I could tell that I probably wasn’t going to be one of her favourite people.

Sigrid came back to quietly tell me that she’d warmed enough water for a bath in the shallow tub outside. I rose stiffly, my joints creaking. Exhaustion, pain and uncertainty filled every movement. I ventured outside and the smell of pine and warm steam greeted me. I smiled a little.

A hot bath, and a nice warm bed… Maybe today wasn’t the worst day ever.

‘Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!’

My eyes were fixed onto the headless body of one of the Stormcloak soldiers. I looked up towards the Captain, and then a dull, ethereal roar sounded. Everyone assembled gave a start, and searched the skies. There was nothing there as far as I could see…though a fleeting shadow seemed to flit out of the corner of my eye. I paid it no attention…my mind was too occupied with my impending death.

‘I said, next prisoner!’

The male soldier’s surprisingly gentle voice called out next, ‘Step up to the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.’

I walked towards the bloodstained block. My pulse was hissing in my ears, nothing around me seemed to actually be there…everything seemed transient, not quite real. The soldier was looking at me, his face stricken with a melancholy look. I probably looked as pitiful as I felt. The Captain’s booted foot was forced into my mid-back, and my knees buckled. My face was pressed into the still wet block, and I saw the axe rise. I almost shut my eyes, but then…the shadow appeared again. It drew closer with surprising speed, landing with a deafening sound onto the tower behind the headsman.

‘What in Oblivion is that?’ the General yelled.

The headsman turned, just as the beast’s mouth opened. The sound that came out tore through my senses, sending my vision blurry and weak. My ears simply seemed to stop working…until one word, uttered by one of the Stormcloak soldiers broke through.

‘Dragon!’

I felt myself being pulled roughly to my feet. Ralof was there, pushing me ahead of him and into another tower. I stumbled through the entrance, almost falling flat on my face. Someone else caught me, and steadied me until I could find my bearings. I blinked rapidly, breathing shallowly through my nose. I looked around to see the Jarl, Ulfric, holding onto my shoulders.

‘Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?’ Ralof looked utterly shell-shocked, like the rest of us.

‘Legends don’t burn villages,’ Ulfric spoke for the first time, letting go of my shoulders as I moved to lean against the wall. His stunning baritone voice was ringing with authority, and was strangely calm. Could he have had something to do with this dragon’s appearance?

There was another roar of fury from the dragon, and we all collectively stared up at the ceiling. I half expected the dragon to rip the tower to shreds at any moment.

‘We have to move, now!’ Ulfric said urgently. Ralof nodded, and looked around swiftly for a second.

‘Damn, the sword we picked up must have fallen outside…’ he groaned, ‘looks like you have to stay in binds for now, my friend.’

I twisted at the ropes, but to no avail. Ralof placed a hand on my arm to get my attention again.

‘Up through the tower, let’s go!’

I nodded, and started walking up the steep, spiralled stairs. I took each step cautiously, and felt little jumps in my chest whenever I teetered off balance because of my bound hands. Just as I was getting to the top, there was a cracking noise that almost made the hairs on the back of my neck jump right out of their pores. The wall above us exploded, and the force sent me flying back down the stairs, and into the two men behind me. I caught sight of the dragon’s gnarled, fearsome face, right before the void in the tower was filled with tongues of fire. I briefly saw within the rubble a broiled human hand, and I swallowed the rising bile.

Ralof half pulled and half dragged me up the stairs again as the smoke cleared. ‘He’s gone back for the Imperials, it seems. See that inn there?’ he pointed below us to a house that was missing half of its roof, ‘You can jump down into there. Some of the men down the stairs are injured, so we might be a little slow in following you. Gods be with you.’

‘You know, I didn’t want to take sides in this war,’ I remarked, ‘but you’ve treated me like a comrade when truthfully, I’m just a stranger…and an Imperial stranger at that. I won’t forget this.’

He smiled warmly, and watched as I took a slightly shaky leap into the house below. I landed a little harder than I meant too, and I whimpered as I ended up collapsing onto one of my legs. The cramping, throbbing pain was intense, but the adrenaline rush kept me going. I could feel the pain… but somehow, it didn’t matter anymore. Only survival mattered.

‘Haming, you need to get over here, now!’

I peeped outside, and saw the soldier from the execution beckoning a small boy over to him. The dragon meanwhile was circling overhead, dangerously low. It seemed to vanish, but then, I realised that it had flown above the inn. My blood ran cold, and I ran outside almost automatically. The dragon circled round and landed a little distance away, near a fallen man. He was still alive, and was twitching in agony. The dragon opened its mouth, and fire erupted.

‘Gods… everyone get back!’ the soldier yelled, grabbing the boy by the scruff of his neck and almost throwing him to the other man. The boy screamed something almost unintelligible. I realised, with a pang, that the man who I’d just seen killed was the boy’s father. He had been calling out for him.

The soldier seemed to notice me for the first time. ‘Still alive prisoner? Stay close to me if you want to stay that way.’

I cowered slightly as the dragon circled again. The soldier looked towards the old man who was holding onto the boy as if he were a lifeline. ‘Gunner, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defence.’

‘Gods guide you Hadvar!’

Hadvar took off like a shot, and I had to take leaping strides to keep up. I stumbled clumsily behind him, almost slamming into broken pillars and walls. My co-ordination was usually better than this, but with my hands tied, it was all I could do to not fall over.  I vaguely heard him growling words at someone, but as we neared the Keep, I didn’t bother to dilly dally, I just kept running. I huddled by the closed door, waiting on him. He came quickly enough, and shoved it open.

We both almost tripped over one another in our haste to get inside. I was on the floor, gasping for air. My lungs burned, my eyes burned…hell, everything burned. I was feeling rightly sorry for myself, and then I looked up at Hadvar and noticed the angry red marks on his skin.

Okay, well maybe I wasn’t as burned as he was.

Small comfort, considering it felt as if my muscles were all on fire… I hoisted myself up and leaned against the wall. Gods, I was dizzy.

‘Was that really a dragon? One of the bringers of the end times?’

‘Well, I’m assuming birds in Skyrim don’t get that big, so I’m gonna say yeah. That was a dragon.’ I stated sarcastically.

He gave me a look that bordered amusement and embarrassment, ‘Come on, we’d better get moving. There’s gotta be some armour in these chests for you.’ He pulled a small dagger from his belt and slipped it under the ropes on my hands. I rubbed at the raw marks that were left on my wrists and walked over to one of the chests. There was some light armour in it, and a one handed iron sword. I glanced back at Hadvar, who was still rummaging around for something to use on his burns.

I felt my face go a little pink, and scanned the room for somewhere to change with at least an iota of privacy. There was a small nook near the door…it would have to do. I changed as quickly as I could, but Hadvar seemed to have taken the hint; he was steadily avoiding my side of the room. Smart guy.

The sword was uncomfortably light, but I supposed that it would have to do. I stepped out of the corner and faced my new partner.

‘What now?’

‘We have to get out of Helgen. That thing is still out there.’ He went over to the gated door and pulled on the chain that was next to it. The rusty iron creaked to life and slid down noisily.

I followed him through, and we ended up in another hallway, faced with another gate. I could hear voices on the other side, a man and a woman.

‘Hear that? Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them.’ Hadvar whispered.

I was doubtful, but I let him enter the room first. The woman didn’t waste any time: she raised her war hammer and charged him. He blocked her with his heavy shield and dealt a single killing blow with his sword. Meanwhile, the man was busy trying to skewer me with his greatsword. I parried him, and tried to get in closer. The thing I liked about greatswords was that they were good at keeping an enemy at a distance…and sadly that was working against me. He swung at me, and I blocked him. The weight of the sword coupled with his strength staggered me. I managed to stay on my feet, and turned swiftly away. The tip of his sword hit the ground as he was sent off balance. I took the opening and shoved the sword into his back. His scream mingled with the muffled roar of the dragon outside. He fell over limply, but I could see he was still breathing. Hadvar advanced on him, and brought his sword down on the man’s neck. Blood gushed freely, and he was stilled.

I dropped my own blade and picked up his fallen greatsword. He wasn’t going to be using it anyway.

We went through a torture room, complete with its resident torturer and a grotto filled with Stormcloaks. Now, we were faced with giant spiders. Today was really not my day. By the time the creatures were all dead, I was covered with their sticky webs. Tiny, disgusted sounds left me as I tried wiping them off.

‘Come on, we have to keep moving.’

I sighed and followed him. We crossed a narrow bridge, and I was about to move forward across a clearing when he held me back.

‘Wait, see that bear?’ he pointed to the end of the clearing, where sure enough, there was a large, snoring animal. I hadn’t even seen it. ‘I’d rather not tangle with her right now. We could sneak by her…or if you’re feeling up to it, you could try to take her down with an arrow. My aim’s not the best right now…damn burns are making my arms shake too much…’

I peered through the murky darkness and weighed my options…I wasn’t much of a good shot, but I didn’t think sneaking past her was a good idea…

I took the bow from him. I took a cleansing breath and aimed…Gods…I had to hit her, or I was betting that she would cross the distance before I could get to my sword.

‘Take your time,’ Hadvar whispered. My hands were growing colder by the second…damn it…

I released the arrow, and the bear reared, snarling in pain as it hit home. I quickly sent off another one and she rolled over onto the cave floor, writhing. Soon enough, she stopped.

‘Not the sneaking type I see. Good shooting…now let’s go, I think the way out is through here.’

I really wasn’t sure where I was.

All I remembered was crossing the border from Cyrodiil. Then horrible blackness. There was the creaking of wagon wheels, and I felt as if I was on a bumpy, inclined road. I groggily opened my eyes.

‘You’re finally awake,’ a man with a thick Nordic accent brought me from my reverie; ‘You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there.’

I blinked absently, looking around. The Nord was sitting across from me, his hands bound. Next to him was another man, who was similarly bound, and he had brown hair, in contrast to his benchmate’s fair blonde mane. Next to me was another blonde Nord… a handsome man dressed in fine clothes and a thick fur cloak. Curiously, he was gagged.

‘Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell!’ the thief spat. He looked at me desperately. ‘You there…you and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.’

‘We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief,’ the Nord replied curtly.

‘Shut up back there!’ the carriage driver’s annoyed voice cut across the conversation like a hot knife through butter.

‘And what’s wrong with him, huh?’ the thief asked in a low voice, turning to the gagged man.

The Nord was furious. ‘Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.’

I started a little in my seat. Ulfric Stormcloak? The Jarl and rebel leader himself? Oh, this wasn’t looking good for me right now. If the Empire had him, they’d be apt to just get axe happy and execute us all. Today was not my day.

‘Ulfric? You’re the Jarl of Windhelm…leader of the rebellion.’ The thief stared at the gagged Ulfric openly. The Jarl simply looked impassively at me, probably because my face had gone ashen and grey with worry.

‘If they’ve captured you…Oh gods, where are they taking us?’ with each word, the thief’s voice became more and more frantic.

‘Where else? To the headsman, of course.’ I said. My voice was strangely calm and detached. I suppose that the level of fear that was in me was still being masked by shock.

‘I don’t know where we’ll be going, but Sovngarde awaits…’ the Nord looked reflective, and not at all frightened. ‘What village are you from, thief?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.’

‘Rorikstead…I’m from Rorikstead,’ it sounded as if he would dissolve into tears soon. I swallowed back the bile that was rising, and centred my thoughts on Shor. I wasn’t a Nord, but I was damn well raised like one. I needed His strength right now.

‘General Tullius! The Headsman is waiting.’ The solider driving our carriage called.

‘Good, let’s get this over with,’ the man who answered sounded thoroughly uninterested in the affair, and his voice carried the slight hint of an accent that I knew well. He was an Imperial, like me. Well, I get to be executed by my kinsman. How nice.

‘Shor, Mara, Diabella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me!’ the thief pleaded.

‘It’s a bit too late for that, don’t you think?’ I asked him. He didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at the man holding the huge axe in the middle of the town square. Can’t say I blamed him.

‘Look at him…General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet that they had something to do with this.’

I shuddered a little at the mention of the Thalmor. Even though I grew up in the heart of the Empire, my Nordic step father’s rage towards the elves had rubbed off on me quite a lot. The Thalmor were fiends. Very dangerous, very scary fiends.

‘This is Helgen,’ the Nord said absently, ‘I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in…’ he sighed, ‘Funny…when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe. I bet you share that feeling…’ he looked towards me.

I nodded. ‘I know what dolts the Empire are, I assure you. I never really thought it would come to this…the man who raised me was a Nord from Skyrim, actually. If only he could see me now,’ I said wryly, ‘I’d get a big fat “I told ya so.”’

The man laughed. ‘My name is Ralof, by the way.’

‘Aurelia…’ I looked towards the frantic thief. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Lokir…’ he managed to gasp. He was shivering. ‘Wait, why are we stopping?’

‘Why do you think? End of the line.’ Ralof still sounded as calm as ever. As for me, I could feel the dread building up like a cold fist in my chest. ‘Let’s go, we shouldn’t keep the gods waiting on us…’

We were called to disembark from the carriage. It was as if my body was moving without me. I didn’t have to think about it, I just walked with the rest of them.

‘No, wait, we’re not rebels!’ Lokir pleaded.

‘Face your death with some courage, thief.’ Ralof said, sounding just a little disgusted with the man’s jitters.

There was a heavily armoured woman at the front, who was flanked by a burly male soldier. He was holding a book and a quill. I stared. What was this, roll call?

‘When your name is called step towards the block!’ the woman called harshly. So, it was a roll call. How very quaint.

‘Empire loves their damn lists…’ Ralof grumbled. I think I gave him a tiny smile.

The male soldier’s voice was calm, and far kinder than the woman’s ‘Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.’

‘It has been an honour…Jarl Ulfric,’ Ralof murmured reverently. Ulfric moved towards the assemblage of prisoners before the executioner, with his head held high. I didn’t wholly agree with the man, but I admit, I admired him in that moment.

‘Ralof of Riverwood.’

Ralof himself moved towards his Jarl, and exchanged a strange look with the man who held the book. It seemed as if they knew each other.

‘Lokir of Rorikstead.’

‘No, I’m not a rebel, you can’t do this!’ he screamed. I saw his muscles tense, and I knew what he was about to do. As I opened my mouth to tell him not to, he ran. I didn’t even hear what he yelled next, for it was drowned out by the call of the hardened Captain.

‘Archers!’

I watched him fall on the road, his body rolling limply into a ditch. Shit.

‘Anyone else feel like running?’

No, now I don’t even think I can walk, thank you.

‘Wait, you there…step forward.’ The male soldier called. I realised he was referring to me, and moved towards him numbly. ‘Who…are you?’

‘Aurelia Corvinus.’

‘You’re a long way from the Imperial City,’ he remarked. He turned to the woman at his side uneasily, ‘Captain, what should we do? She’s not on the list.’

‘Forget the list. She goes to the block.’

Nausea welled up, and I fought to keep myself standing. The soldier looked at me regretfully.

‘I’m sorry. We’ll ensure that your remains are returned to Cyrodiil.’

A sudden jolt made me flinch. I hadn’t considered what commotion it would cause for my headless body to be shipped back home. My mother, my sister and my brother would all suffer greatly. At least I knew for sure that my father had the stomach for it. I could ask them to bury me here…but then my family would never know what became of me. I tried very hard not to think about the pain I would inflict on them.