You Wanna Execute People? Think Again

"What was that?" Hadvar said, his voice shaking with an instinctive fear I bet every Imperial was feeling from how they were shifting on their feet. He looked around, to his captain, to his comrades before finally his gaze landed on General Tullius.

Tullius, obviously trying to keep a tough face in front of his soldiers, shook his head as he spoke up with a voice filled with finality, "It's nothing. Carry on," he said, superbly hiding his own shaking voice. But I heard it. Seems like my senses are pretty keen in this body as well, huh? Good to know. I kept my ears tensed and kept my guard up for what was about to happen.

"Right," the woman Captain gave a fanatic shout before carrying on, "Soldiers, keep you guards up - we don't want any of these Stormcloak rebels to get away! Am I understood?!"

"Yes, captain!" dozens of shouts replied to her before she nodded with a proud smile.

"Good," she said before turning to a priestess dressed in orange and yellow robes, "Give them their last rites," she said before walking aside to the block.

The priestess, from what I could see, was a beautiful Nord woman who had brown-ish blond hair. Weird how you never get to see her face properly in the game. Weird how you never get to really see many people's appearances in Skyrim. Before they die or you kill them, that is. Guess that's indicative of what kind of world the game's set in, huh?

Anyway, the beautiful priest stepped forward with a solemn face before speaking, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved--" she was cut off by a Stormcloak who was standing near me.

He stepped forward and spat at the ground, "For the love of Talos, shut up and lets get this over with," he said with a tired and outright hostile voice. I couldn't really blame him, honestly. I didn't really want to hear such useless rites either. The priestess seemed slightly taken aback but simply nodded and backed up, probably knowing that not everyone would want to have someone speak about how they are valued they are, just before they're about to be executed.

As the rebel walked to the block, I saw some of the bound Stormcloaks getting fidgety. Not out of fear, I couldn't spot even a single speck of it on their faces. No, they were angry. Each and everyone of them was comrades with this man. They didn't want to see him die.

Especially one blonde woman who was closest to him. She was trying to hide it, but she had tears in her eyes, drawing me to one conclusion:

They were lovers.

I mean, they could be siblings but they look far too different. But putting that aside, it really showed me that there was more to Skyrim than the games showed. These weren't NPCs who followed a set code. They're people. With feelings, thoughts, ambitions...it really makes me feel bad for some of the foreknowledge I have.

So many people to suffer...and for what? Some stupid fucking civil war? Because Ulfric Stormcloak hates the Thalmor? Because some fucking egotistical dragon doesn't like Humans?

I felt a prick in my chest as I thought about all of this.

I wasn't a good person. In this life or the last, I was indifferent at best, and a prick at worst. But...I want to do something to help. Even if it's only to help a few people, I want to do it.

My thoughts were cut off by the Stormcloak getting down on his knees and putting his head onto the bloody block and shouting up at the Imperials surrounding us, "Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" he smiled madly and the blonde Nord covered her mouth with her bound hands, closing her eyes.

Haah...If I'm gonna start saving people, I should start with such an impossible quest, shouldn't I? 'The Nord Weapon Master who fought off a legion of Imperials in Helgen with his hands bound before a dragon interrupted the fight' should do as a spectacular start to my story, right? The old man would be impressed at least.

Slowly making my way to the front of the crowd - not a hard thing to do when I was so much stronger than everyone in front of me - I waited until the headsman lifted his axe as high as he could and then--

I charged at him.

"Archers!" I heard, shouted from behind me, but right now I concentrated myself to the maximum.

Funny thing, being a Weapon Master. Especially a Weapon Master who follows the same path as me - the Combat Path. We have as much control over our bodies as possible. Which means I can simulate an ability only found in Redguards. I can willing produce an unholy amount of adrenaline and dump it into my bloodstream.

What does this mean? Well, everything around me feels like it's slowing down and I feel like I'm getting faster, all at the same time.

I felt a limitless amount of energy flooding my system and I just it as much as I could to get to the headsman who's eyes were widening, seeing me run at him. I was definitely quicker on my feet than the average Nord, that's safe to say.

When in front of him, I sent a two handed throat jab at the headsman and his entire body seized up, his instincts making him try and pull oxygen in automatically.

While he was seized up and trying to breath, I moved myself behind him and used him as a meat-shield.

...Hey, I know I said I was gonna save people, but people who were about to chop my head off, aren't on that list, okay? What do you think I am? Some kind of masochist who saves his enemies? I'll have you know--Okay, no time for jokes right now, Markus. Concentrate.

I felt the headsman go limp against my back and I turned around and grabbed his axe from his dead hands. Spinning it around I grinned at the Imperials lining the walls. The Stormcloaks were looking at me oddly, as if they'd just seen something out of the ordinary happen. But I didn't have time to dwell on their reactions as I looked at the threats in front of me.

I count two dozen arches on the walls. Fifteen arrows each. So, 360 in total. Ah, wow. That's a lot--No, look on the bright side--it's better than them having 720 in total, right? Yeah...

Parry, dodge, take a few arrows. Just not in anywhere vital. Like my head, heart, knee, or dick.

They're using long bows, so after the first barrage of 24, I should have around 5 or 6 seconds before the next one comes in. Should give me plenty of time to get to the nearest wall and get myself a bow and arrow. Need to get these restraints off first, though.

Ha-ha! I can really feel my blood beginning to boil at all these thoughts of fighting! Kinda glad I picked Battle Maniac now. If I hadn't, I'd be shitting myself right now!

Feeling my grin widen into a savage smile, I watched as the first barrage came in.

. . .

POV Change - Ralof of Riverwood

As I was watching Torban about to get executed, I couldn't help but wince when I saw Alga turn herself away from what would be a bloody thing. I too wouldn't want to see my love get executed in front of me.

I find some peace in the fact that they'll both meet again in Sovngarde. We all will, after all.

But just as the headsman's axe was lifted to it's zenith, I saw a blur charge at him. If it weren't for the blur coming from the different side of the crowd from where Alga was standing, I would have been sure it was her.

"Archers!" the damn Imperial bitch shouted as she pointed at the man. But the man, the black-haired Nord I road with on the way here...he was unnaturally fast.

He charged with three things which made my instincts scream that he was someone I did not want as an enemy. He charged with the ferocity of an Orc, the grace of a Bosmer, and the speed of a Redguard. It was like watching a race that was the mixture of all three running at that headsman. When he arrived in front of the headsman - nothing but a blur to me - he sent a punch to the man's throat and from the way he seized up I had something else to add to the list of things that made him dangerous; he punched with the strength of a Nord.

It would seem those muscles on his body aren't just for show, eh?

And then with just as much speed as before, he got behind the man's back, letting the poor man take the arrows that had been shot at him. When the man fell, the black-haired Nord took his axe and looked along the walls, a grin growing across his face.

Then the grin became a wide and savage smile, showcasing his sharp canines and bright white teeth. If I didn't know that Vampires also had chalk white skin and glowing eyes, I'd have thought he were one of them with teeth like that.

Then he charged again, just as the arrows of two dozen archers were fired at him. The first arrow to get within his range was batted away by the axe blade, followed by him flipping over the next 5. As he landed, he rolled to the side, 3 more arrows missing him. But as he came to a stop, a single arrow hit his arm, leaving a gash across it.

The hit barely even seemed to register with him as he gave a raucous laugh and charged at the archer who scraped him.

Half a dozen arrows were shot at him by that point, but he swung the axe around, slapping them out of the air in a dance that...mystified both me and my comrades alike.

This man...he made parrying look like an art. Like a dance. But he didn't look like one of those fancy milk-drinkers who waved a jeweled sword around like some kind of idiot. No, he looked deadly when he did.

When he got in range of the wall, I thought he was done - how could he get up there? He couldn't jump that high, could he?

But I was wrong.

He put the axe head in front of him and slammed it into the ground and as the wooden handle bent and groaned, he flung himself upward, his feet aimed upward and his entire body shot upward from the axe handle snapping back to it's original position. He barely made it onto the wall but something told me that was a part of his plan when he swept his leg across the floor and the two nearest Imperials had their legs taken from under them like they were twigs and not trained soldier's legs.

But that was nothing compared to what came.

He pushed himself up in no time and swung the axe, bisecting the two falling men at the stomach, their blood splattering across the stony walls of Helgen. By this point, another barrage of arrows came in, but as if he expected them, he kicked up the dead bodies next to him and blocked the arrows with them.

...This kind of efficiency...it's simply inhuman.

. . .

POV Change - Markus

Taking a deep breath, I heard another roar as I dropped the axe head down to my hands. Unlike how it'd be in a movie or a game, cutting leather bounds did take some time. Luckily for me--"Hah!" I gave a shout as I kicked the back of the axe blade, driving it through the leather bounds, so instead of cutting them, it tore them apart with brute force--I had Dremora strength on my side.

Then, with one last pull, I snapped the chains of the iron manacles holding me. Finally...I was free.

...Well, that was a bid foreboding and ominous of me, wasn't it?

Seeing something coming at me, I lifted the axe blade and blocked an arrow that was coming straight for my head. Raising an eyebrow, I looked straight at the archer who sent it, making me scrunch my eyebrows a little.

What the hell is she doing here?