A Question of Fate Options

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Brief Intro By The Author

A Question of Fate would be the title of my piece.

I have been back and forth about trying to start and post a fan fic piece. The idea has always intrigued me, but I never considered myself to be a writer, let alone a good writer. I have read a sampling of some of the works that are posted on this site, and quite frankly, it is intimidating. The material is amazing. I must say say that despite the intimidation, it is also inspiring. So I am willing to throw caution to the wind and go for it. There are a few provisos. I work for a living. Often times, the hours I work are long. There may be periods of dormancy in this thread. I will apologize in advance for that. Life outside the internet does have it's restrictions. Also, I am sure that there is an unspoken etiquette that states, "You read mine and comment, and I shall do the same". This is also where I could run into trouble, for the same reasons that there may be dormant periods in this thread. There are stories on this site that I could never hope to read all the way through, with triple digit page counts, while I try to keep posting my own story and work through everyday life. So, with all that being said, I will wait to start posting chapters until I get a sense of what the audience demands. Please let me know if I should start posting a fan fic piece, based on what you have just read.

Thanks.

EDIT - This was originally posted in "General Discussion"

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 4 2013, 04:41 AM

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

First, I want to thank mALX, grits, treydog, and McBadgere for their very nice comments and compliments. You are all too kind. Second, I have decided to jump to Chapter 2 and rename it Chapter 1, thereby omitting the cart ride. I mean, how many different ways can this scene truly be written. I did pluck tidbits of info from that chapter and strategically place them in this one to further develop Valrimor. Thanks for the advice grits. Some of you may have guessed that the Prologue ended near the Stormcloak camp at Darkwater Crossing. Suffice it to say that Valrimor knew all of his co-passenger's names by the time the cart reached Helgen. So here we go...

Chapter 1 – Helgen into Dragonfire

17th Last Seed, 4E201

The soldier with the book looked at me and said, “You there. Step forward. Who…are you?”

“My name is Valrimor.” I answered flatly.

My head was still battling a dull throb. My thoughts raced between fear and acceptance, escape and resignation, regret and anger. I could not believe that my journey to Skyrim was going to end so soon with the abrupt impact of an executioner’s halberd. The short span of consciousness during the cart ride hadn’t allowed my brain to completely process all it had been fed. I was really beginning to miss the mead at Olav’s and regret my decision to come here.

“Not many wood elfs - ”

“Elves.” I interjected.

“Huh?”

“It’s elves, not elfs. A quill-pushing bookkeeper should know that. Personally, I prefer Bosmer. But I apologize for interrupting. Please continue.” I said with a sardonic smirk. Several chuckles came from the crowd of prisoners.

He stared at me for a second, then continued, “Fine. I was merely going to comment that not many of your kind come to Skyrim alone.”

How could he know I came alone? I need a drink!

Turning to the officer, he asked, “Captain, what should we do? He’s not on the list.”

I’m not on the list! Dare I hope?

“Forget the list. He goes to the block.” she replied.

Damn…

“By your orders, Captain.” Shrugging, he turned back to me and said, “I’m sorry. We’ll make sure your remains are returned to Valenwood.”

“I’m not from - ” I started, but the bookkeeper cut me off with a wave of his hand.

“Follow the Captain, prisoner.”

She turned and headed toward the block, and I dutifully followed. As I took my position next to the other prisoners, General Tullius was standing before Ulfric.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen claim you’re a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.”

Ulfric grunted back angrily through his gag.

A power like The Voice? Could this be why the Jarl was gagged? Perhaps he was a mage as well.

“You started this war.” Tullius continued, “Plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!”

Suddenly, a strange roaring sound echoed through the mountain passes. Everyone looked up, searching for its source.

“What was that?” someone asked.

“It’s nothing,” the General replied, “carry on.”

“Yes, General Tullius.” said the Captain. Then she turned to an acolyte standing a bit behind the headsman and bade her to give Last Rites. As the woman began her speech, one of the prisoners decided he was tired of waiting.

“For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!” he said, walking toward the chopping block.

“As you wish.” the Captain replied.

When the prisoner reached the block, he said, “Come on. I haven’t got all morning!”

The Captain shoved the man to his knees, and then pushed his torso forward with her boot, placing him in prime position for losing his head.

“My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials. Can you say the same?”

Those were his last words, for with that, the headsman raised his halberd and swung downward in a clean, swift strike that separated head from body. I shuddered, but felt a strange comfort in seeing how quick and painless it would be. The gathered crowd of townsfolk shouted conflicting exclamations of “You Imperial bastards!” and “Death to the Stormcloaks!”

Ralof gave a short eulogy by stating that the man was as fearless in death as he was in life. My mind was racing. Adrenaline had pushed all of my earlier pain to the side and had my heart pounding as hard as my thoughts.

Do I make a break for it and chance the archers? Do I just accept this as my fate? Do I rush one of the guards and hope the rest of the prisoners follow my lead?

I didn’t have time to consider it any further when the Captain said, “Next, the wood elf!”

The odd roaring sounded again, reverberating off the nearby peaks. It definitely sounded closer and more menacing, but I didn’t care. My adrenaline fueled anger snapped like a bough in a wind storm.

“BOSMER!” I raged, “I am a Bosmer! Not a wood elf, not a tree-hugger, and definitely not a Thalmor piece of Aldmeri trash! I am a BOSMER!”

The soldier that had been holding the ledger just looked at me and said, “Step forward prisoner, nice and ea - ”

“Oh shut your mushroom hole, you milk drinking bureaucrat!” I said as I walked and then kneeled before the headsman’s block.

I turned my head in such a way that the last thing I would see would be the executioner’s eyes as he swung his blade.

Would this truly be the last thing my eyes would behold? Y’ffre take me to my mother…

What I did see was far more unexpected. The strange sound we had been hearing returned, and from behind the closest peak within my field of vision flew a large beast that my brain instantly classified as a dragon! It swooped in low and then with a couple mighty flaps of its wings, it slowed itself and reared back, coming to rest on the tower directly in front of me. It seemed to gaze directly into my soul with red, piercing eyes. The beast opened its mouth and uttered a sound that seemed to shake the foundation of the earth. Dark clouds, out of nowhere, began circling above its head. Then it made another, different sound and a concussive blast shoved me hard into the chopping block. My vision was instantly turned to a blurry haze. I became aware of boulders crashing to earth all around me. The world had become a cacophony of thudding impacts, yelling soldiers, screaming wounded, and gusts of scorching wind. Through all of this I managed to hear Ralof’s voice.

“Bosmer! Quickly! Follow me!”

I rose to my knees and squinted. There was Ralof, waving and beckoning for me to get up and run. I stood up and a searing blast of hot air knocked me on my backside. As I rose again, an Imperial guard ran past me. He was screaming and completely ablaze. Even though he was one of my captors only moments ago, I felt an instant pang of pity.

What a horrible way to die!

Ralof had made his way to the door of another tower. I sprinted toward him as more boulders smashed the grounds and buildings around me. Almost everything in my sight that was able to burn seemed to be ablaze. Scorched bodies lay strewn about, making for flaming obstacles that reeked with the stench of burnt flesh. When I finally reached the tower, my momentum carried me through the door and to the floor of the chamber within.

EDIT - Per Acadian - Nit fixed, thanks! Added date to entry.

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 18 2013, 12:16 AM