Other Fan Fiction ❯ Dragonborn ❯ Helgen ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: anonymousvoice 
Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.21.2013 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 163 | Status: Completed
Miscellaneous: Other Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Fantasy | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.21.2013 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.5K | Visits: 163 | Status: Completed
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SKYRIM OR ANYTHING WITHIN IT. THE ELF IS MY OWN CHARACTER BUT THE REST ARE WITHIN THE GAME AND BELONG TO BETHESDA!
“Helgen awaits.”
“Helgen,” the Elf whispered to himself. He turned to follow the Nord’s eyes and suddenly noticed the large stone-walled village down the path.
The black-haired Man went crazed, crying softly to himself, “Kygoreth, Akintosh, Divines, please!”
They entered the gates and guards started yelling back and forth to one another.
The Nord gestured to a group of people on horses. Two Men and an Elf.
“General Tullius,” the Nord spat, “and it looks like the Thalmar are with him.”
The Nord turned back, “I used to be sweet on a girl here. I wonder if Ingrid still makes mead with Juniper berries mixed in. Strange, Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe…”
The carts rounded a corner and grounded to a halt.
“We best hurry,” the Nord said dryly, “We don’t want to keep the guards waiting.”
All prisoners stood and dropped from the carriage.
The dark-haired Man started pleading, “Please! You’ve got to tell them we weren’t with you!”
The Nord looked at him, “Face your death with some courage!”
The Elf turned from the two and face ahead at the two guards in front of them. The one on the left was female, her steel armor marking her as a captain. The other, a male, held a list in his hands. He held a pen in his hand and his face was almost plastered to the list.
“Ulfric Stormcloak,” he read off.
The bound man turned and headed to the waiting block.
The other Nord bowed his head, “It was an honor.”
“Ralof of Riverwood.”
The Nord straightened and turned solemnly to the block as well.
“Lokir of Rorikstead.”
The black-haired Man’s eyes went wide, “No! I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!”
He took off running, straight past the captain and the other guard.
“You’ll never take me!”
From under her helmet, the captain rolled her eyes, “Archers!”
The sound of bow rang out and the black-haired Man fell to the ground. The elf could see the still quivering arrows protruding from his back and the pool of blood forming around his body.
The captain looked over the other prisoners, “Anyone else feel like running?”
The guard with the list turned back to the Elf. He looked down at his list and back to the Elf, and then down at the list.
He began to mumble, “Thalmar… no that can’t be… Captain, he’s not on the list.”
The captain snorted, “To Hell with the list. He goes.”
The guard looked up, “I’m sorry Elf. We’ll make sure your remains reach the Summerset Ilses. Do you have a name? ”
The Elf nodded, that’s all he could do.
“Deyuuthal,” he rasped out.
He turned to the block as well and reluctantly followed the guards. Already a prisoner, one from the other carts, was kneeling at the block. The executioner brought his giant axe down on the prisoner’s neck. The prisoner’s head rolled across the ground.
One of the Nords whispered something, but Deyuuthal immediately lost interest. Instead he turned to the noise echoing through the mountains. It sounded like a roar of a large animal.
“Next! The High Elf!”
Again the noise came through, much louder this time.
The guard with the list looked around, “Do you hear that?”
The captain turned to the guard, “I said, next prisoner!”
The guard sighed, “To the block prisoner, nice and easy.”
Deyuuthal walked forward. He dropped to his knees and felt the captain’s boot press against his back. He was then shoved forward and his chest hit the block. Squinting against the sun, he turned to look up at the executioner, pleading look in his eyes.
Something dark rushed by, blocking the sun momentarily
“What in Oblivion is that!?!”
“Sentries! What do you see?”
Suddenly, a dark form landed on a nearby tower, the impact shaking the ground. The executioner tripped, his foot kicking Deyuuthal in the face. Deyuuthal shook his head and looked back up, into the face of a black dragon. The beast opened its mouth and the whole world shook. The stone block exploded, throwing Deyuuthal.
“Get up Deyuuthal!”
Deyuuthal’s head was spinning, and again he shook his head to clear it. Looking up, he found the Nord, Ralof as he recalled, standing over him.
“The Gods won’t give us another chance!”
Ralof reached down and grabbed up Deyuuthal, standing him up. Looking around, Deyuuthal realized Helgen was burning. The dragon flew about, spewing fire at anything that move.
“Don’t stand there! Move!”
Deyuuthal chased after Ralof, dodging the fire and trying to pull his hands free from the bonds still around his wrists. He followed Ralof to a nearby tower, barely escaping the dragon’s fire.
Ralof slammed the door closed and turned to the other people in the tower, “Is that really a dragon from the End-times? Like in the stories?”
Out of the shadows stepped Ulfric Stormcloak. He tore the gag from his mouth and said gravely, “Stories don’t burn down villages.”
Ralof spun in circles, “We need to get out!”
He motioned to Deyuuthal and then a set of stairs, “Hurry! Up those stairs!”
He and Deyuuthal sprinted up the stairs, searching for a way out. Voices echoed in the floor above them. Deyuuthal wondered to himself how he was supposed to fight off guards with his hands bound. It turns out he didn’t need to.
The wall exploded above them, the chunks of broken stone flying into the guards above them. Deyuuthal fell back in surprise and Ralof hurriedly caught him. Just then, the dragon’s head shot forward and fire flew out scorching anything in the second floor. Satisfied with its work, the dragon withdrew and flew off in search of more targets.
Ralof creeped up to the hole in the wall and looked out. Seeing the dragon fly off, he stood fully and looked around.
“See that inn over there? Jump across and we will meet you on the other side!”
Deyuuthal nodded and looked at the inn. It was missing a sizable chunk of the roof and small fires blazed within. Seeing no other option, Deyuuthal charged at the ledge and jumped, clearing the gap and rolling into the inn. Deyuuthal hurried across the inn and dropped down through a hole into the main floor.
His feet touched down on the hard wood and he sprinted outside. He turned left and noticed the dragon landing twenty feet away. Deyuuthal dove to the right, coming up next to an old man, a child, and the guard with the list.
The dragon flew off, its roar drowning out everything around. When he could hear again, he heard the guard shouting to the old man, “I’m going to meet General Tullius and join the defense!”
“The defense,” Deyuuthal whispered.
The old man replied to the guard, “Gods guide you, Hadvar.”
Hadvar noticed Deyuuthal then, “Still alive prisoner? Follow me if you want to stay that way.”
Hadvar took off for a nearby alleyway with Deyuuthal close behind. They dropped down into the alleyway and continued along the wall. At that moment, the dragon landed ontop of the wall. Deyuuthal dove to the ground, landing inches away from the dragon’s wing. After breathing fire everywhere, it lifted up and flew off again.
Feeling a little more secure, Hadvar led the way through the rubble. As they came out, they found the last few guards running back and forth with bows, trying in vain to hurt the dragon.
The Man Deyuuthal assumed to be General Tullius shouted to them, “Get going Hadvar! We’re leaving!”
Hadvar saluted and headed for a keep further along, “Looks like it’s just you and me prisoner!”
As they neared the keep, coming down the way from the opposite way was Ralof, bloody axe in his hand.
“Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!”
“We are escaping Hadvar. Step aside.”
“Fine! I hope the dragon sends you to Sovngarde!”
Hadvar headed to what looked like a barracks entrance, “with me prisoner, Hurry!”
Ralof waved over from another door, “Hurry Deyuuthal! Now’s our chance!”
Deyuuthal didn’t need any more pushing. He saluted to Hadvar, but turned to Ralof. Ralof clasped him on the back and slammed the door shut behind them.
“Helgen awaits.”
“Helgen,” the Elf whispered to himself. He turned to follow the Nord’s eyes and suddenly noticed the large stone-walled village down the path.
The black-haired Man went crazed, crying softly to himself, “Kygoreth, Akintosh, Divines, please!”
They entered the gates and guards started yelling back and forth to one another.
The Nord gestured to a group of people on horses. Two Men and an Elf.
“General Tullius,” the Nord spat, “and it looks like the Thalmar are with him.”
The Nord turned back, “I used to be sweet on a girl here. I wonder if Ingrid still makes mead with Juniper berries mixed in. Strange, Imperial walls used to make me feel so safe…”
The carts rounded a corner and grounded to a halt.
“We best hurry,” the Nord said dryly, “We don’t want to keep the guards waiting.”
All prisoners stood and dropped from the carriage.
The dark-haired Man started pleading, “Please! You’ve got to tell them we weren’t with you!”
The Nord looked at him, “Face your death with some courage!”
The Elf turned from the two and face ahead at the two guards in front of them. The one on the left was female, her steel armor marking her as a captain. The other, a male, held a list in his hands. He held a pen in his hand and his face was almost plastered to the list.
“Ulfric Stormcloak,” he read off.
The bound man turned and headed to the waiting block.
The other Nord bowed his head, “It was an honor.”
“Ralof of Riverwood.”
The Nord straightened and turned solemnly to the block as well.
“Lokir of Rorikstead.”
The black-haired Man’s eyes went wide, “No! I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!”
He took off running, straight past the captain and the other guard.
“You’ll never take me!”
From under her helmet, the captain rolled her eyes, “Archers!”
The sound of bow rang out and the black-haired Man fell to the ground. The elf could see the still quivering arrows protruding from his back and the pool of blood forming around his body.
The captain looked over the other prisoners, “Anyone else feel like running?”
The guard with the list turned back to the Elf. He looked down at his list and back to the Elf, and then down at the list.
He began to mumble, “Thalmar… no that can’t be… Captain, he’s not on the list.”
The captain snorted, “To Hell with the list. He goes.”
The guard looked up, “I’m sorry Elf. We’ll make sure your remains reach the Summerset Ilses. Do you have a name? ”
The Elf nodded, that’s all he could do.
“Deyuuthal,” he rasped out.
He turned to the block as well and reluctantly followed the guards. Already a prisoner, one from the other carts, was kneeling at the block. The executioner brought his giant axe down on the prisoner’s neck. The prisoner’s head rolled across the ground.
One of the Nords whispered something, but Deyuuthal immediately lost interest. Instead he turned to the noise echoing through the mountains. It sounded like a roar of a large animal.
“Next! The High Elf!”
Again the noise came through, much louder this time.
The guard with the list looked around, “Do you hear that?”
The captain turned to the guard, “I said, next prisoner!”
The guard sighed, “To the block prisoner, nice and easy.”
Deyuuthal walked forward. He dropped to his knees and felt the captain’s boot press against his back. He was then shoved forward and his chest hit the block. Squinting against the sun, he turned to look up at the executioner, pleading look in his eyes.
Something dark rushed by, blocking the sun momentarily
“What in Oblivion is that!?!”
“Sentries! What do you see?”
Suddenly, a dark form landed on a nearby tower, the impact shaking the ground. The executioner tripped, his foot kicking Deyuuthal in the face. Deyuuthal shook his head and looked back up, into the face of a black dragon. The beast opened its mouth and the whole world shook. The stone block exploded, throwing Deyuuthal.
“Get up Deyuuthal!”
Deyuuthal’s head was spinning, and again he shook his head to clear it. Looking up, he found the Nord, Ralof as he recalled, standing over him.
“The Gods won’t give us another chance!”
Ralof reached down and grabbed up Deyuuthal, standing him up. Looking around, Deyuuthal realized Helgen was burning. The dragon flew about, spewing fire at anything that move.
“Don’t stand there! Move!”
Deyuuthal chased after Ralof, dodging the fire and trying to pull his hands free from the bonds still around his wrists. He followed Ralof to a nearby tower, barely escaping the dragon’s fire.
Ralof slammed the door closed and turned to the other people in the tower, “Is that really a dragon from the End-times? Like in the stories?”
Out of the shadows stepped Ulfric Stormcloak. He tore the gag from his mouth and said gravely, “Stories don’t burn down villages.”
Ralof spun in circles, “We need to get out!”
He motioned to Deyuuthal and then a set of stairs, “Hurry! Up those stairs!”
He and Deyuuthal sprinted up the stairs, searching for a way out. Voices echoed in the floor above them. Deyuuthal wondered to himself how he was supposed to fight off guards with his hands bound. It turns out he didn’t need to.
The wall exploded above them, the chunks of broken stone flying into the guards above them. Deyuuthal fell back in surprise and Ralof hurriedly caught him. Just then, the dragon’s head shot forward and fire flew out scorching anything in the second floor. Satisfied with its work, the dragon withdrew and flew off in search of more targets.
Ralof creeped up to the hole in the wall and looked out. Seeing the dragon fly off, he stood fully and looked around.
“See that inn over there? Jump across and we will meet you on the other side!”
Deyuuthal nodded and looked at the inn. It was missing a sizable chunk of the roof and small fires blazed within. Seeing no other option, Deyuuthal charged at the ledge and jumped, clearing the gap and rolling into the inn. Deyuuthal hurried across the inn and dropped down through a hole into the main floor.
His feet touched down on the hard wood and he sprinted outside. He turned left and noticed the dragon landing twenty feet away. Deyuuthal dove to the right, coming up next to an old man, a child, and the guard with the list.
The dragon flew off, its roar drowning out everything around. When he could hear again, he heard the guard shouting to the old man, “I’m going to meet General Tullius and join the defense!”
“The defense,” Deyuuthal whispered.
The old man replied to the guard, “Gods guide you, Hadvar.”
Hadvar noticed Deyuuthal then, “Still alive prisoner? Follow me if you want to stay that way.”
Hadvar took off for a nearby alleyway with Deyuuthal close behind. They dropped down into the alleyway and continued along the wall. At that moment, the dragon landed ontop of the wall. Deyuuthal dove to the ground, landing inches away from the dragon’s wing. After breathing fire everywhere, it lifted up and flew off again.
Feeling a little more secure, Hadvar led the way through the rubble. As they came out, they found the last few guards running back and forth with bows, trying in vain to hurt the dragon.
The Man Deyuuthal assumed to be General Tullius shouted to them, “Get going Hadvar! We’re leaving!”
Hadvar saluted and headed for a keep further along, “Looks like it’s just you and me prisoner!”
As they neared the keep, coming down the way from the opposite way was Ralof, bloody axe in his hand.
“Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!”
“We are escaping Hadvar. Step aside.”
“Fine! I hope the dragon sends you to Sovngarde!”
Hadvar headed to what looked like a barracks entrance, “with me prisoner, Hurry!”
Ralof waved over from another door, “Hurry Deyuuthal! Now’s our chance!”
Deyuuthal didn’t need any more pushing. He saluted to Hadvar, but turned to Ralof. Ralof clasped him on the back and slammed the door shut behind them.