A Wild Dovahkiin Appears!

            (4E-201 15th of Last Seed)

                  Darkwater Crossing

     Nordrick had been travelling for almost a week now, trying to make his way back to Skyrim. He had heard that the civil war there was still on and so he wanted to avoid traveling with any Stormcloaks or Imperials, if at all possible. He had been travelling completely alone and had finally made it to Darkwater Crossing.

     "Just a couple more hours and I'll finally be in Skyrim." Nordrick mumbled to himself, as he continued walking forward.

     He suddenly heard a noise up ahead and turned his face reluctantly into the winds gusting through the pass, his right hand raised up before his face. Up ahead in the distance he could see several men running about, although he couldn't really tell what they were doing.

     Continuing to move forward, he eventually managed to get a better look at them and he could now tell that this was a battlefield. He really wanted to avoid this kind of scenario but there was nowhere he could hide and turning back wasn't an option.

     'Shit! Maybe if I just press myself up against the cliff face here they won't notice me and they'll just head back to Skyrim afterwards. Fuck! I hope they don't take forever!'

     Only a few seconds after Nordrick had pressed himself flat against the mountain, a terrific and tremendous bellowing rang out that seemed to shake the entire pass.

FUS-RO-DAH!!!

     A single second after hearing this sonorous shout, a blitzing wall of magical force went barreling past him, stirring up the around him and forcing his hood back.

     Remaining firmly pressed up against the mountain, he turned his head towards the unfolding battle. He noticed that one of the soldiers wearing Imperial armor was lying on the ground just a few meters away. The tremendous force, that had just barely missed him, managed to toss this man all the way down the pass to his location.

     'Shore's bones! What in Oblivion was that! Don't tell me that guy is here! Dad told me rumors about Ulfric Stormcloak's ability to use the Voice and stories about how powerful the Voice was but I thought they were just that, rumors. Shit! If that guy is here then I really don't want to get caught up in this!'

     Nordrick no longer cared about backtracking or losing time, he immediately turned back the way he came and made a mad dash in that direction. The thrown soldier, however, seemed to recover quickly from such a ridiculous attack and spotted him fleeing out of the corner of his eye.

     The soldier, seeing that the battle was going in the Imperial's favor and Ulfric was finally being subdued, turned to the fleeing stranger and yelled. "Hey! You there! Stop right there! Who are you and what are you doing here?"

     Nordrick didn't look back and just kept running. He was far ahead of the Imperial Soldier. There was no way he was catching up with him.

     He continued pressing forward, confident he would be able to escape, until he heard the rapid clopping of horse hooves behind him. Sparing a quick look behind him, the fear that had suddenly propagated from those reverberations was localized into a visual terror. An Imperial Soldier on horseback was, indeed, bearing down on him!

     He realized that someone from the battlefield had probably heard the soldier's shout, decided to send a rider after him, and was now quickly lowering the curtain on the hopeful theatrics that had just been running through his mind.

     As the horse pulled alongside him and began passing him, he finally gave up what he knew to be a fruitless struggle and slowed his pace to a standstill. The rider pulled back the reins on his horse and came to a stop just a few meters ahead of him.

     "You there! What are you doing in this area? The Imperial Legion is conducting sensitive operations in this area and I find it suspicious that you would just happen to be here. Are you a spy or a scout for the Stormcloaks?" The soldier queried him in a commanding tone.

     "I'm not with them. You have to believe me. My parents were Nords and, yet, had never been back to Skyrim since I was born. I was traveling alone to Skyrim, hoping to visit my homeland for the first time. I came across your skirmish and panicked. Please leave me be?"

     "I'm afraid it's not that simple. You've been caught up in a delicate situation. We'll have to take you in for questioning but fret not, if your story is true and you've done no wrong, then you have nothing to fear."

     Just as the soldier was beginning his last sentence, the others were finally catching up to their position.

     "Hardor, take this man into custody. We'll escort him back to Helgen with the others, for interrogation."

     The soldiers behind him began surrounding him. Eventually they closed in on him and began placing him in restraints.

     'Damn! This isn't good! I could probably take these guys but they still have other riders, they would just catch up with me again. They don't have that many men left after the battle. It looks like the Stormcloaks, despite their loss, still did a number on them. Even so, I don't know if I could handle all of them.

     'Fighting back right now doesn't seem like a really good idea. I don't trust these Imperials but I feel like I don't have much of a choice right now. Damn these Imperial dogs!' Nordrick cursed his captors in his mind.

-----

            (4E-201 17th of Last Seed)

              Cart Traveling to Helgen

     Nordrick wearily tried to open his eyes but couldn't manage more than a squint. Despite most of the ground being covered in snow, the sun was shining brightly and cast harsh reflections off of the snow. It was quite bright out, as well as bitterly cold.

     He shifted his head up right, recovering himself from his slouched position, and gradually worked his eyelids further apart while casting his gaze about his surroundings.

     Nordrick was then addressed by a long haired blonde Nord with a couple of braids, bound hands, and wearing a Stormcloak soldier's armor. He was sitting in front of him and slightly to the left on the opposing bench of the cart they were riding in. "Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us… and that thief over there."

     As Nordrick was about to answer, another voice, from a similarly bound occupant of the wagon, chimed in from his right side. "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.

     "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

     Nordrick was feeling quite anxious about all of this. He was already aware of Ulfric Stormcloak's identity, as was soon explained to the thief by the blonde Stormcloak. He had been assured by the Imperials that he was only being brought in for questioning and, if it turned out to be true, would mean that they'd saved him quite a bit of walking and time spent on resource procurement.

     However, last night as he was about to fall asleep, he and the others had been hurriedly ushered back into the carts and told that they would not be making camp but driving through the night instead.

     He had initially had reservations about this whole incident but, whenever they had placed him in the same wagon as Ulfric Stormcloak and his compatriot, his instincts kept telling him that there was nothing routine about any of this and there wouldn't be any interrogation. Now, looking past the cart driver, he could see their destination, no more than a league away. As he witnessed Helgen drawing closer, the pleading cries of his instincts grew ever louder.

     Eventually, the conversation from the others returned its focus on him, with the blonde Stormcloak asking him about his home and family and introducing himself as Ralof. Nordrick, not really being sure how things would play out from there, decided to open up.

     "I… I was… I've never actually been here before. My parents were Nords but had left Skyrim while my mother was pregnant with me.

     "My father had been on a quest to uncover what he referred to as 'the long lost secrets of our ancestors.' He had been convinced that there was a ruin in Cyrodiil that held secrets to a form of magic practiced by ancient rebel Nords and designed to combat Dragons.

     "Turns out, he was right. He not only found that ruin but studied the secrets he discovered there thoroughly and religiously. He learned that, during a time when many of our ancestors worshipped Dragons as gods, these particular Nords were hunted outcasts. Not only because of their beliefs but also because of the magics they were attempting to perfect.

     "Ten years ago, on my twelfth birthday, my father had already made great strides towards replicating the Formless Element Style he'd uncovered and began passing these secrets onto me. As I continued to practice the Formless Element Style that my father had rediscovered, he continued to unlock more of our ancestor's teachings.

     "My father, however, ended up succumbing to a dreadful illness. One he contracted from some infected refugees from Black Marsh, who had requested his aid. I still had my father's journal, even if I no longer had him, and so I continued his work until I felt I had unlocked all of the mysteries he had unearthed.

     "It was then that I confided in my mother my desire to journey to Skyrim, at least once before I died. Not knowing what kind of unfortunate events one might encounter that completely disregarded any sense of fairness one might hold, it felt reasonable to act while I had the opportunity, the presence of mind, and the haleness of body. 

     "Thus, despite her many protests citing the ongoing civil war, my stupid self insisted and ended up exactly where my mother predicted I would." Nordrick confided, his voice projecting clearly his melancholy and regret.

     "Shores bones! That's quite a tale, lad! What manner of magic was it that your father managed to rediscover?" Ralof asked, intrigued.

     "The Formless Element Style combines a stout and well trained body with highly destructive Elemental magic wrapped around the user's hands, feet, and/or weapons. It also entails practicing a specific martial art that was designed specifically to not only harden the body against brutal impacts but also build resistances to the various elements to be utilized."

     "By Talos! That sounds impressive! I can only imagine what a platoon of soldiers, trained in this Formless Element Style, would be capable of. The imagery alone is quite terrifying! Are you saying you know such magic and this martial art as well?" Ralof followed up.

     "Indeed, and you're right to think it terrifying! If these damned Imperials didn't have us so thoroughly surrounded, I might've already broken these binds and tried to flee. Also, if it were just the Imperials, I might've been able to escape, my fully augmented speed is nothing to laugh at, but the terrain also isn't favorable. Not to mention, if I just up and escaped right now, not only would they eventually have wanted posters up all over the place I would most likely not be shown any leniency, if I were ever caught again. I won't make a move, until I'm certain they intend to harm me." Nordrick explained this bit of information much more quietly than his previous expositions.

     "I see." Rolaf replied in a whispered tone. "I wish you well brother, in your escape attempt. I would ask that you try and help us as well but I understand your point. Now that we're here in Helgen, there's a literal army of them surrounding us. I'm sure you'll have your hands full. The best we can hope for is to take advantage of the distraction you'll cause. In which case, I sincerely appreciate the heads up. Knowing it's coming should give us a leg up."

     "No problem at all brother, no problem at all." Nordrick's expression then turned serious and his tone returned to normal, as the cart slowly pulled to a stop. "Looks like the moment of truth is upon us."

     Nordrick and his fellow prisoners were soon escorted off of the carts and brought in front of an Imperial soldier with a list of names. Nordrick anxiously awaited his turn, as the soldier began doing a roll call of the prisoners in attendance.

-----

     As Galeron was monitoring the Psijic window through which the sights and sounds of Helgen were being relayed to him, he finally heard that damning phrase.

     "Forget the list. He goes to the block."

     'No doubt my potential Dragonborn here is quite anxious right about now.' Galeron thought, as he floated invisibly in the sky just outside of Helgen.

     He had been up for almost three days straight, attending to this matter of the ambush and its subsequent fallout. He didn't let this bother him, however. He simply shrugged off what he could and dispelled any overly problematic side effects with his magic. He would have plenty of time for recuperative sleep when all this was tidied up.

     Whenever he had started his stakeout, he had created a list of signs to look for to indicate whether he or someone else was the Dragonborn. The first thing, obviously, was the presence of someone other than the Imperials, Stormcloaks, and Lokir at Darkwater Crossing.

     Naturally, if he was the Dragonborn and hiding invisibly on a nearby peak, there shouldn't be anyone else caught up in the ambush. Yet, as he had suspected ever since learning of his abominable nature, there was someone else there.

     Not only that but this person had gone on to play through the role that he knew all too well, from the in-game dovahkiin. Even his order in the roll call was the same, with Lokir having already been shot in the back. Although, this Dovahkiin had an actual background and Galeron had been sure to take note of every detail.

     Admittedly, he was a bit disappointed with things playing out like this but he didn't really have time to sulk, nor did he wish to. He would make the most of this situation, whatever it might take.

     'Well, if he is the Dragonborn, I'll need to bring him over to my side early on and gain his trust. If I want to ensure absolutely nothing can go wrong, I should hurry down there.' Galeron urged himself, as he picked up his speed while floating towards the site of the ongoing execution.

     Despite knowing he likely wasn't the dovahkiin, he was still quite giddy with anticipation, as well as a bit nervous. Sure, Dragons were the ultimate cool factor but these creatures were not to be taken lightly. He had no idea how powerful they might be and the one about to break up the Imperial's little party was the most powerful of them all.

     Galeron, having already heard the first of Alduin's cries, kept his eyes peeled on the mountain peaks in the background. Keeping well out of range of any shouts Alduin might use, he watched ecstatically as he witnessed the beast finally cresting the mountains and making his way towards Helgen at a terrifying speed.

     Quickly, before Alduin arrived, Galeron focused intensely, reached out with his mind utilizing his magicka, and used a little trick he'd recently developed. Reaching out to the Dragonborn, he spoke directly into his mind.

     *Once the Dragon has cleared the way, look for the path laid out by my Clairvoyance spell, follow that path, and no harm will befall you. Stray from this path and your future will not be so certain.*

     Through his Psijic window, he could see the Dovahkiin's eyes widen in surprise and then almost pop out of his head when Alduin finally landed.

     Alduin, despite being his mortal enemy, was nonetheless majestic! Absolutely nothing the game had shown could ever have prepared Galeron for the full blown regality that this creature exuded! Just the sight of him was almost breathtaking!

     He didn't have time for these kinds of thoughts. He quickly regained his focus and located his targets, while remaining aware of Alduin's attacks. He soon spotted his targets and, as expected, it had taken them as long as everyone else to process what was happening. They had only just begun to flee and so Galeron kept his focus on them, while casting occasional glances towards his Dovahkiin.

     He maintained his lookout, until the Dragonborn had made it inside the tower that Alduin was about to blow a hole in. He then quickly teleported behind Ulfric and began his Induction. Less than ten seconds later, Galeron was once again in the air and Ulfric had obediently stepped through a portal to Fort Doomguard.

     He continued to monitor the situation, now simply waiting for his other targets to become vulnerable and for Alduin to finally leave.

-----

     "Fuck! What in the name of Oblivion is going on! This is absolutely fucking mental! An actual fucking Dragon!? This can't be real! Shit! Shit! Shit! I need to get it together. This is fucking insane but freaking out about it isn't going to help. Gotta get a grip!" Nordrick coached himself, as he took a few deep breaths and then leaned back against the wall of the tower.

     The wall, however, violently protested as a large section of it, running along the stairs leading upwards, was blasted away accompanied by a violent stream of flame that came pouring in through the hole.

     At this moment, Nordrick witnessed the soft glow of a Clairvoyance Spell return once more, highlighting the path up the stairs and through the newly created hole.

     Having been so panicked that he'd forgotten to do so earlier, he sent a blade of Wind Magicka through his bindings, slicing them clean off. He then ran swiftly up the stairs, where he poked his head out just a tad to make sure the coast was at least partially clear.

     He then inspected the surrounding buildings, finding that the building right beside the tower had had its roof blown off and he could safely jump down into it. Seeing that the Clairvoyance Spell was also leading in this direction, Nordrick didn't hesitate and continued following his clearly paved path to freedom.