Ice, Blood and Ash, a Skyrim adventure

Raevyn's Quest Begins

Raevyn Telvanni grew up in the land of Skyrim, and was familiar with the threat of civil war on the rise. She was taken into custody trying to cross the border of Skyrim and Cyrodiil to get away from it, as being an elf didn't bode well for her. And now she sat next to the traitor Ulfric himself, mouth bound as well as his arms.

"Warm welcome to Cyrodiil, indeed", she thought as Ralof introduced himself and spoke to a horse thief named Lokir. He seemed to be in high spirits for someone who is being sentenced to death, but I enjoy the conversation. After all, it is the last one I'll be having.

We arrive in Helgen shortly thereafter, and an Imperial soldier named Hadvar takes roll. But I am nowhere on their list of criminals. "Of course not!", I spat at his commander, "I've done nothing to the Imperial Legion but support you, and this is the thanks I get! I was trying to get away from the warfare, not dragged back into this muck!"

"Take her to the executioner!" Hadvar's commander shouts. I quiet my tongue, for once I am in position to be executed, I plan to use my vast knowledge of swords and axes against said executioner. I will bide my time and not bring attention to myself, unlike the poor Lokir fellow the commander called for the archers to take down. Luckily his death was swift and the horse thief didn't suffer.

First is a nord man to lose his head to the axe. A devout Stormcloak, he refuses the blessings of the Eight and honorably takes his death sentence, awaiting Sovngarde. I have no such fate- to the daedra I go.

I am next. I lay my head down, breathy slow, awaiting the swing of the axe to spring. "Do you hear that?" a soldier says. It sounds like a distant rumble, a deep roar.

The executioner readies his axe, a closer roar erupts, and then.....

Chaos.

A huge dragon, black as the void, perches itself in the ramparts of a tower. It shouts in the old language- the dragon tongue.

Now is my time to break free. I steady myself, stand, and run.

Through the town, around buildings, hiding from the dragon, through burning rubble I go.

Aren't dragons just a legend? I think to myself, as I run, always keeping from the dragon. In front of me, Hadvar beckons some survivors to the side. "Come with me!" and I follow. He gives orders to the soldiers to protect the young and elderly, and runs- "Still alive prisoner? Good."

I run, barely hearing what he says. Everything is so loud around me, buildings being destroyed, dragon shouts, people screaming.

I follow Hadvar into the keep, and follow his orders, still not registering what is going on as I dress in Imperial Armor and don Imperial weapons. I feel I am in my body, yet not, as I slay Stormcloaks along the way out. We sneak past a bear and run out of the cave under the keep. We made it. We are alive. I breathe the cold, fresh air as the dragon roars ahead, heading toward Whiterun.

I guess I'll be staying in Skyrim for a while longer, after all.