Chapter 1: Unwanted Mission

Stephen groaned as his head pounded with a steady drumbeat. Too painful to open his eyes yet.

“Hey, you! You’re finally awake.”

Stephen tried to focus on the voice in front of him. It was familiar. He knew that voice. He’d heard it dozens of times over the last year.

“You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.”

Stephen felt a crisp breeze against his skin. He didn’t remember opening his office window.

The cart hit a rock and Stephen jolted forward, falling off the bench and right into the man seated across from him. His eyes burst open as the man stopped his fall with bound hands.

“Are you ok friend? The roads out here aren’t as smooth as they once were. Yet another thing the Gods damned Empire has let crumble!” Ralof said, helping Stephen back onto the bench.

“Damn you Stormcloaks!” Lokir growled. “Skyrim was fine before you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now!”

Stephen gazed at Ralof and then Lokir in horror. What the hell was happening, He thought. This couldn’t be happening. There’s no way this was happening. But Ralof had just touched him. He could feel the moist air and smell the forest around them. He should be sitting in his office, with a blanket on his lap and a cup of coffee in his hand. But instead, he was sitting in a cart, The Cart, with his hands bound and a wild look in his eyes.

Then he remembered. Remembered what felt like a stroke. Then the conversation and beating from the mad god Sheogorath. Remembered with growing horror the bet on his life that the two Daedric princes had made.

“Why are you giving me that look stranger? You and me, we shouldn’t even be here,” Lokir spat, “It’s these damn Stormcloaks the Empire wants, not us!”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” Ralof countered.

Stephen looked down at his hands, so different than what he was used to. They looked like the hands of a man who’d spent a lifetime in the outdoors. The tight leather binds grated on his wrists as he pushed against them, flexing his hands. Bringing his bound hands to his face he was surprised to feel a full beard.

“Shut up back there you damn rebels!” yelled the soldier in the front seat of the cart.

Stephen focused on the man seated next to him. His hands were bound like the rest of the men in the cart, but he had the addition of a gag in his mouth. A justified caution on the parts of the Imperials against the might of the man’s voice. Stephen had watched this cart scene play out dozens of times, but had never really looked that closely at Ulfric Stormcloak. Stephen knew he had a trimmed beard hidden under the cloth that was gagging him. He had hair down to his shoulders and a great cloak of fur resting on him. Known for using a bear motif on his battle standards Stephen assumed the cloak with distinctive bear head pauldrons was made of the hide and fur of one of the mighty creatures.

Stephen also knew this wasn’t going to end the way the Imperials wanted. He’d watched and played the opening act of Skyrim so many times he could practically recite the script word for word. He gazed in wonder at the man seated next to him, his mouth open in disbelief, as Ulfric nodded politely in recognition.

“What’s wrong with him huh?” Lokir grumbled, gesturing his bound hands at the gagged man seated across from him.

“WATCH YOUR TONGUE THIEF!” Ralof bellowed. “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak! The true High King of Skyrim!”

“Ulfric ... The Jarl of Windhelm? You ... You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they’ve captured you...” Lokir muttered. He thought for a moment and then a panicked fear crossed his face. “Oh Gods! Where are they taking us!?”

Ralof sighed and looked away, focusing on the road in front of the cart, seeing the walls of a familiar town show up around the bend in the distance. “I don’t know where we’re going ... But Sovengarde awaits.”

“No ... Oh Gods no! This can’t be happening!” Lokir whimpered, tears forming in the unfortunate thief’s eyes.

Ralof looked back at the man with a mixture of pity and disgust. “Hey ... Where are you from horse thief?”

“Why do you care?” Lokir sniffled, desperately trying not to hyperventilate.

“ ... A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.” Ralof replied.

Stephen sat and stared at the two men, enraptured by their conversation. He’d witnessed this exchange so many times before but somehow, sitting here and hearing it in person, he couldn’t turn away. Something about focusing on the men in front of him calmed the panic that had begun welling up inside of him when he’d woken up.

“Rorikstead ... I-I’m from Rorikstead.” Lokir said. “My parents used to own a farm in the village. But my ma died giving birth to my younger brother, and my dad spent the next 10 years as the town drunk. I got out as soon as I could.”

The cart began to slow as they approached the town of Helgen. A guard at the gates signaled for them to be opened as he stepped forward to speak to a man seated on a horse at the front of the procession who Stephen knew to be General Tullius, the leader of the Empire’s forces in Skyrim.

“Ahh, General Tullius. Glad to see you made it here safely. The headsman is waiting in the town square! The block has already been prepared for your arrival.”

“Good” Tullius replied “Let’s get this over with. The faster we can finish this execution the faster this land can finally know some peace.”

“Oh Gods! Shor! Mara! Dibella! Kynareth! Akatosh! Divines! Please help me! I don’t want to die!” Lokir cried

The Gods can’t help you now thief, Stephen thought, shaking his head. Something tells me they can’t help me either. This must be some sort of joke ... This is all so surreal. I can’t believe I’m sitting here on THE cart right now. A plaything for the Daedra. But if the Daedra are real...

“Look at him,” Ralof seethed “General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn Elves! I bet they had something to do with this...”

The other men in the cart looked towards the town and saw a High Elf woman in Thalmor robes astride a horse in the middle of the road, just beyond the gate. General Tullius seemed to be arguing with her. Whatever she was asking for, Tullius was refusing, and the Altmer was getting visibly angrier with every passing moment.

“They probably want to stop the execution” Stephen finally spoke. “If there’s one thing the Thalmor want, it’s to weaken the Empire, so that next time they invade it can’t stand in their way. And keeping this rebellion going indefinitely just weakens the Empire further.”

Ralof looked at him in surprise. “I was beginning to think you were a mute. But if you mean to insinuate that we would be working with those Daedra accursed Elves then I promise you friend, you won’t make it to that chopping block. I’ll take your head off myself!”

Ulfric chuckled beside Stephen as he shook his head sadly at Ralof’s outburst. He’d always been a fiery one, but he had a good head on his shoulders and could always be counted on in a pinch. That’s why he’d managed to climb the ranks and become one of Ulfric’s top lieutenants.

“Um, n-no, sorry. I meant nothing of the sort,” Stephen stammered apologetically. He smiled grimly as he got more into character, hardly believing what he was saying. “Those damn Thalmor are opportunists. Perhaps the best in all of Tamriel. And if they smell an opportunity to further their goals, they’ll do everything in their power to seize it.”

The cart trundled forward again as the High Elf finally moved her horse out of the way, standing at a short distance, watching the carts pass with an aura of simmering rage.

Ralof sighed as he looked back at Stephen. “Sorry friend. I guess I’m a bit touchy right now. This town is Helgen, if you didn’t know. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. She wound up marrying that milk drinker of an innkeeper, Vilod.” He looked past Stephen, his eyes unfocused, as he gazed at the town rolling past. “I wonder if he still makes that mead with juniper berries mixed in?” Ralof focused back in on Stephen, “You know it’s funny ... when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe. Now? They just fill me with dread.”

Stephen watched the town as the carts rolled by, hearing the murmur of the crowd. He could see more than a few faces that were filled with hate, so he assumed the whole town knew who was in these carts, and what was about to happen.

If only they knew what was really about to happen, Stephen thought. I wonder if I should try to warn them? No ... they said they were putting me into my game, so I assume the intro will play out exactly as it always does. Although ... That bastard said he thought Alduin would eat me during the intro, so maybe things can be changed?

“Get those prisoners unloaded men, move it! They have an appointment to keep!” An officer yelled as the carts rolled to a stop. The soldiers stepped down quickly and motioned for the prisoners to do the same.

“Wait! Why have we stopped? What’s happening?” Lokir cried.

“Why do you think? End of the line. Come on thief, let’s go. We shouldn’t keep the Gods waiting for us.” Ralof sighed as he pushed Lokir to step down off the back of the cart.

“No! We’re not rebels! This is a mistake!” Lokir pleaded, grabbing onto Ralof’s shirt with his bound hands. “You’ve got to tell them! We weren’t there with you! This is all a mistake!”

Ralof shook him off and pushed forward, standing in line behind his leader. “Face your death with some courage thief! For once in your life show yourself and everyone else that you’re a Nord! A true Nord who’s not afraid to die and meet Shor in Sovengarde!”

Lokir blanched and stepped forward, momentarily cowed by Ralof’s chastisement. An officer, a Captain by the looks of her armor, and another soldier stood at the front of the line calling names and directing prisoners to the block.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm! Ralof of Riverwood! Lokir of Rorikstead!”

Lokir looked around him quickly at the crowd and the soldiers, as he began to hyperventilate and shake. “No! I’m not a rebel! This is all a big mistake! You can’t do this to me!” He started running forward, pushing past other prisoners and the officer at the front of the line as he made a mad dash for the gate. “You’re not going to kill me!”

Hadvar, the soldier calling names, sighed and shook his head as the Captain called for the archers to take aim and fire at the fleeing thief. He made it another 20 yards before several audible Thunks could be heard as three arrows slammed into his back and his body crumpled and fell to the ground.

“Now that that’s done, we can continue.” Hadvar said. He looked down at his list and then back up at Stephen as he frowned and motioned him forward. “Wait a minute ... Who are you?”

Oh shit. Do I tell him my name? Should I say some other name? Does it matter? This is all just the game, right? Fuck, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

“My name is Stephen.” He said, locking eyes with Hadvar.

“Stephen, huh ... what an odd name. Well, you picked a bad time to return home kinsman. You’re not on our list. What should we do with him Captain? He doesn’t appear to be a Stormcloak, like the others.” Hadvar asked, turning to the woman standing to his right.

“Ugh, forget the list, Hadvar! We’re finally about to snuff out this stupid rebellion and you’re worried about the fucking list? He goes to the block with the others, and that’s final.”

Hadvar sighed as he accepted the order. “I’m sorry kinsman. At least you’ll die here, in your homeland. Follow the captain to the block. And please, don’t try anything funny. We’d all like to just get this over with.”

Stephen nodded sympathetically at Hadvar and turned to follow the Captain. Walking up to the line of prisoners he took his spot next to Ralof and another Stormcloak. Stephen knew he was the hothead who’d be the first one on the block in a few moments but he didn’t actually know his name. He focused ahead to hear General Tullius had already started talking.

“You started this war Ulfric,” Tullius growled. “Plunged all of Skyrim into chaos and bloodshed. And now the Empire is going to put you down! And restore the peace!”

Before he could continue a sound like thunder split the sky. Stephen suppressed a smile as the crowd around him was brought to a hush as people looked up and searched for whatever beast had made the noise.

“What was that General?” Hadvar asked.

Tullius paused and searched the sky for a moment. “It’s nothing. Continue with the execution. Priestess? Give them their last rites, please.”

A priestess of Arkey stepped forward from the ranks of the Imperials and, spreading her arms to the sky, began to speak: “As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our belov-”

“Oh for the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!” The Stormcloak to Stephen’s right yelled, as he walked to the chopping block.

“Tsk ... As you wish.” The priestess huffed as she bowed slightly and backed up, taking her place back behind the ranks of the imperial soldiers.

The Captain pushed the prisoner to his knees as he glared at her. “Come on! I haven’t got all morning!” He taunted. “My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?”

The headsman prepared his axe, bringing it to his shoulder. He looked to the Captain for the signal and at a nod of her head he brought the axe up, and then down with a swift chop:

Whoomph

The Stormcloak’s head rolled away, a small spurt of blood wetting the ground in front of the block. The Captain pushed his body over with her foot as two soldiers stepped forward to carry it away.

The crowd behind Steven erupted in both cheers and boos. “You Imperial bastards!” “Justice!” “Murderers!” “Death to the Stormcloaks!” “Long live Ulfric!” “Death to Ulfric!” The crowd seemed split. A testament to how this war had split Skyrim.

Stephen steeled himself for the Captain’s next lines as Ralof shook his head and chuckled sadly next to him. “As fearless in death as he was in life. I’ll see you in Sovengarde my friend.”

“Next! The Nord in the rags! Move forward prisoner!” The Captain motioned for Stephen to walk forward and meet the block.

Alright, Alduin should be here any minute. Give it another, what? 30 seconds and then he’ll land on that tower right in front of me. Just need to stall this for another moment or two. Right?

Stephen walked forward slowly as the air was charged with another terrifying roar. Everyone stopped and stared at the sky for a second time, the crowd growing noticeably fearful as they murmured behind him.

“There it is again! Did you hear it? What is that?”

“I SAID, next prisoner!” The Captain yelled at Stephen.

He moved forward slowly again, stopping at the block as the Captain pushed him to his knees. He positioned his head on the block so he could see up at the executioner, and the tower standing behind him, knowing that before that dreadful axe could fall all hell would break loose.

The headsman again brought his axe to his shoulder and looked to the Captain for the signal as another roar split the sky, much closer this time.

Stephen smiled as he could hear Tullius behind him yelling up at the sky as the ominous body of Alduin, the World Eater emerged out of the clouds and landed with a crash on the tower in the town square.

“What in Oblivion is that!” Tullius screamed, the execution forgotten as the dragon on the tower raised its head and roared again, summoning a storm cloud overhead. The crowd ran for cover as the soldiers began shouting orders and firing off arrows and fire bolts at the dragon.

Fat lot of good that’s going to do them, Stephen thought. Alright, I just need to get up and get to that door across the square and I’ll be able to stick it to that dick Sheogorath.

He lifted his head off the block and struggled to his feet, forgotten by the headsman who had run with the crowd. He turned to face Alduin and locked eyes with the behemoth, holding his gaze for a heartbeat. Stephen stepped backwards and almost fell over as the force of the ancient dragon’s rage was focused entirely on him for a moment. Then, the beast raised its head again, letting out another ear-splitting roar before dousing the square in fire.

Stephen turned to run, making a beeline for the doorway of a tower as he felt the heat from Alduin’s fire radiating from where the dragon had burned a squad of soldiers to a crisp off to his right.

Ralof ran up beside him, grabbing his arm and pulling him along with him towards the open door of a stone tower. “Come on! The Gods won’t give us another chance, we need to move!” Ralof yelled. As they ran inside the door was slammed shut, muting the screams echoing in from outside.

Ulfric was already inside, with several other Stormcloak prisoners who had made it across the square safely. He breathed a sigh of relief as one of them cut his binds with a knife and freed his mouth from the gag.

“Jarl Ulfric, I’m so glad to see that you’re safe! What was that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof said.

“Legends don’t burn down villages.”

The Stormcloak with the knife moved up to Stephen and motioned for him to hold his hands out. “Here, let me get those binds off kinsman.”

Stephen rubbed his wrists with relief as the leather strips fell away with a quick stroke of the knife. He thanked the man and then started up the stairwell in front of him.

As he moved up the stairs to the landing of the next floor he watched as a Stormcloak tried desperately to move rocks that were far too heavy for him out of the blocked off hallway. Alduin had caused the roof to collapse here already.

This is so fucking surreal. I can’t believe I’m standing here in Helgen, running for my life from Alduin’s wrath. This is some crazy shit man. But those eyes. I could practically feel the anger radiating off of that dragon. And that fire sure felt real...

The wall in front of Stephen burst open and Alduin’s head poked through as he was torn out of his reverie. He ran back down the stairs on unsteady legs, as he felt flames licking at his back as the great dragon let loose another gout of fire into the hole it had made in the building.

Shit! I wasn’t focused, forgot about that. Almost got cooked there. Would hate to let them win their stupid little bet already.

He looked at Ralof and took a deep breath, motioning back up the stairs with his head. “He should be gone for now. Shall we?”

They moved up the stairwell cautiously, wary of another attack until they reached the hole in the side of the tower. They could smell burning flesh as the Stormcloak who had been up here earlier had taken the brunt of Alduin’s attack. Looking out of the hole they could see the burning remains of the inn, it’s roof flaming and already caved in. The second floor looked sturdy still, though. Or at least, sturdy enough. Stephen knew what was coming, but immediately dreaded it.

“See that inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going. I can’t leave Jarl Ulfric’s side, but we’ll follow when we can. Go!” Ralof shouted as he started to head back down the stairs.

This is gonna fucking hurt, isn’t it? Stephen took a deep breath and a couple steps back. Running forward he stepped out on the ledge and jumped, landing with a hard thud onto the wooden floor of the second story of the inn.

Ughhh, yeah ... that fucking hurt ... Alright, gotta get up, gotta keep moving. Almost done with this damn dragon attack.

He got to his feet gingerly and looked around for the stairs. He saw them in the corner, but a flaming bookshelf had fallen over, covering most of the hole. He headed in that direction anyways knowing that the floor just to the left had caved in and there was an opening he could drop down through. Falling to the ground he ran for the door to the outside as he heard the flames crackling behind him.

Bursting outside he saw Hadvar with his sword drawn, yelling at a terrified young boy holding onto the still body of his father, trying to coax him towards him.

“Haming! You need to get over here now! Please boy, you need to move!”

The boy started running towards Hadvar as Alduin soared over head and landed with a loud crunch.

“Run boy! Run! Come on now, you’re doing great!”

The boy came running into Hadvar’s arms as he was scooped up and rushed around the side of a building just in time to miss Alduin roasting his father’s body with another blast of dragons fire.

Stephen caught Hadvar’s eyes as he rushed up to him, helping Haming to the ground, passing him off to the care of an old man hiding between the building and the town walls.

“Still alive Stephen? Good, keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar! Take care of the boy, and stay out that dragon’s way! I have to go find General Tullius and join the defense.”

Stephen and Hadvar ran back out into the open, rushing across the road towards the relative safety of an alley between buildings. As they passed through, they heard a gust of air and then a thud as Alduin landed on the roof of one of buildings directly behind them.

“Stay close to the wall and stay quiet!” Hadvar whispered to Stephen as they both pressed themselves into the wall, desperate not to be noticed.

Alduin roared above them, letting loose another great blast of flames, then lifted off, buffeting the two men with wind as it soared back into the sky to circle the town.

“Alright, let’s move. It’s you and me Stephen, stay close to me!”

The two men moved up a set of wooden stairs into the burning remains of a building. Rushing through it to the other side they saw General Tullius and a contingent of soldiers huddled around the gate and trying their damndest to hold off an angry dragon. Looking over he noticed Hadvar.

“Hadvar! Get people into the Keep, we’ll cover the retreat. Go!”

Hadvar nodded at his commander and grabbed Stephen’s arm, pulling him towards the town’s Keep. The two men ran through the streets, dodging around the occasional archer or battlemage who was too focused on the sky to notice the men running towards them. As they came around a corner, they stumbled across Ulfric and Ralof, rushing into the Keep themselves. Ralof drew an ax he’d picked up from a downed soldier and turned towards the men.

“Ralof, you damned traitor! Get out of our way!” Hadvar yelled at him, his own sword now at the ready.

“We’re escaping Hadvar, you’re not stopping us this time!”

Hadvar looked between Ralof and Ulfric, indecision written clearly on his face. Alduin swooped down at that moment and grabbed an archer that had been shooting at the dragon from on top of the wall, flinging the poor man’s body through the air. Seeing this, Hadvar deflated and lowered his sword.

“Fine ... But I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovengarde!”

Ralof backed away with his sword up, just in case. Once Ulfric was safely inside the building Ralof looked one last time at Hadvar and Stephen and then rushed into the building himself.

“Come on man, we need to move, this dragon is tearing us to pieces out here!” Hadvar shouted at Stephen, dragging him towards another door into the keep. Hadvar ripped open the door and ushered Stephen in just as Alduin landed in the courtyard and opened his mouth to send a wave of fire at them. Slamming the door shut just in time the men dived to the side, feeling the heat seeping under the door from the dragon’s fire.

♦ ♦ ♦

Stephen let out the breath he’d been holding as he and Hadvar sat on the stone floor for a moment, stunned by the carnage that they’d just escaped from. Hadvar stood and helped Stephen to his feet.

“Looks like we’re the only ones who’ve made it so far. Gods was that really a dragon? The bringer of the end times?”

Stephen nodded solemnly at Hadvar and clapped him on the back. “Thank you for your help, Hadvar. I’d most likely be dead without you helping me through the streets.”

“Of course, friend. Have a look around, this is the town’s barracks, so there should be plenty of gear to kit yourself out with. I’m going to see if I can find some potions. When you’re ready, we should keep moving. There must be a way out of here that isn’t back the way we came.”

Stephen paused, noticing something green at the bottom of his vision, just as it faded away.

Probably just my stamina bar refilling, he thought. Wait ... stamina bar? What the fuck? Do I have a HUD??? How did I not notice that while I was running through the streets?

Stephen tried to focus for moment, looking in his peripherals, but not seeing anything. He thought about his set up at home and wondered if this dream would let him use his modded HUD. As he thought about it, he noticed a small meter pop up at the top left of his vision, clearly showing the time of day, date, as well as two meters that he knew detailed his body temperature and level of exposure.

Well, well, well, would you look at that ... hmmm, I’m not seeing a hunger or thirst meter, but I suppose I don’t need any of those if I can actually feel what I need.

”Hey! Are you ok over there friend? We need to keep moving”

Stephen smiled at Hadvar apologetically, embarrassed that he had been caught standing there.

“Sorry about that, I got a little stuck in my own head. Let me just grab some gear and we can move.”

Stephen looked around the room, where many of the soldiers currently dying outside had recently called home. He saw the chest he was looking for and knelt down to open it. The latch flipped up smoothly and Stephen began to pull armor out of it. Basic Imperial armor would have to do for now, so he slipped the light leather jacket and tunic on, stepped into the standard issue boots and strapped the Imperial sword to his belt. He grabbed a key sitting in the chest that he knew would open doors and gates in the keep and a small coin purse as well, shoving them both in the jackets pockets as he straightened back up and scanned the room for anything else that might be useful.

Seeing a few more gold Septim lying on the table across from him he scooped them up and almost turned before noticing what would be his real prize. Leaned up against the leg of the table was a backpack, empty at the moment, but with enough space to store some of the loot he’d pick up in the next few minutes, as well as a couple of straps on top to hold a bedroll and tent. He noticed a couple bottles on a shelf next to the table labeled “Weak Potion of Health” and decided to throw those in the backpack.

“Ok, I should be good to go now, let’s move.” He said, adjusting the backpack to sit correctly between his shoulders.

Hadvar opened the door to the hallway and poked his head out, checking for movement before stepping out and making his way deeper into the building. As Stephen followed behind he had a sudden epiphany, stopping as they reached another door that he knew several Stormcloak soldiers would be behind.

Wait a minute ... If I have a HUD ... does that mean I have menus? When Stephen thought about opening a menu the world stopped, a four-point star appearing at the center of his vision with an option at each point. The top option being Skills, then Items to the right, Magic on the left, and Map on the bottom point of the star. Stephen stood there and stared for a moment, shocked at what he was currently seeing. A wide grin crossed his face as he opened the Magic menu.

Holy. Shit. I have menus? I suppose when a Daedric prince creates a real version of a video game he doesn’t mess around. Let’s see if I can set favorites and preset loadouts too.

As Stephen scanned his small list of available spells, he thought about marking both his Healing spell and his Flames spell as favorites. As he thought this, he noticed a small star appear next to each of those spells in his menu. Thinking about looking through his inventory he was happy to see the menu in front of him change, shifting from his Magic menu to his Items menu.

Looks like I can see stats and item information in my inventory. Although, based on the fact that I had to physically put on that Imperial Armor and sword, I don’t think I can make too many changes in this menu. More for information than anything else, I guess. Still, that’s a hell of a lot better than nothing. I’ll experiment later.

Thinking of the Weapons tab to cycle over to it he saw he was currently holding an Iron Sword, so he decided to favorite that as well.

I guess that’s about all I can do right now. I know the layout of this building already, so no point to check my map yet. And I haven’t done anything to level up any skills, so there won’t be anything I can do with the Skills menu either ... Let’s see if I can set some presets to give me an edge in combat.