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]

Once again, thanks for the kind comments from Subrosa, Acadian, and McBadgere.

@SubRosa - Thanks for the insight on my wording. I hadn't even considered the word "electricity" as modern. I did make the change you suggested. But now I have a conundrum...how to describe future visual manefestations of shock-based spells without using the word "electric" or its permutations? I fear "lightning" may become redundant. Any ideas?

@Acadian - Thanks for spotting the editing mistake. Its fixed now. And thanks even more for noticing that I endeavored to put identities to the stuff that goes on around the protagonist in the tutorial section.

@McBadgere - Your wait is over, as I am about to post the choice scene. Do enjoy!

And I do hope others enjoy as well, as Chapter 3 deals with a decision for Valrimor...

Chapter 3 – A Choice for Escape

17th Last Seed, 4E201 - Continued

Hadvar ran with his sword drawn. A silly image of my mother admonishing against such actions came to mind and I actually chuckled out loud. Meanwhile, the dragon was still circling overhead and laying waste to Helgen. We dodged through the Oblivion-like landscape of fire and panic.

“Stay close to the wall!” Hadvar advised over his shoulder as we approached a damaged stone partition. I darted to the left to follow that advice and was almost immediately impaled against the stone by a dragon talon! The beast landed atop the wall, right above my head! An ear-shattering utterance of three distinct sounds in rapid succession was followed by a gale of fiery breath. It made me curse my bonds when I tried to cover my ears. The dragon must have been content with the results of this latest blast, because it took off to continue spreading its wrath.

Hadvar again urged me to follow him, and I did so. Someone, perhaps General Tullius, ordered Hadvar into the keep. It was impossible to tell exactly who it was. Chaos reigned supreme, with soldiers yelling, buildings collapsing, and the dragon ever roaring and spewing fiery death. Through all of this, Hadvar kept his cool and made sure I stayed with him, thereby keeping me alive. My earlier estimation of the man couldn’t have been more wrong. He was obviously well trained. Under different circumstances, like not keeping me alive so that I may be executed or not being an Imperial Legionnaire, he would have made a staunch ally.

We continued through the wrecked village. As we turned to head for an arched opening in yet another wall, I saw the dragon fly directly over us. A strange alien voice briefly filled the air as it made a sweeping circle and was headed back in our direction. Flaming arrows, along with mage fire and lightning, streamed toward the dragon like some bizarre fireworks display. It swooped down and plucked an archer from the top of a wall, ripping the poor fellow in half and casting his remains down upon the defenders as it flew past.

Suddenly, Ralof appeared with sword in hand. I stopped and stared at the two enemies facing each other. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way to take advantage of this situation. If these two started fighting, I would have the perfect opportunity to escape!

“Ralof! You damned traitor! Out of my way!” Hadvar yelled.

“We’re escaping, Hadvar. You’re not stopping us this time.” the Stormcloak replied. Then he looked directly at me and said, “You! Come on, into the keep!”

I looked at Hadvar. This man had helped to keep me alive through the attack. But his reason for doing so was to deliver me to another headsman. He was gazing back as if to say, “Well?” The choice was easy. Ralof seemed to have no ill will toward me. I was fairly certain that he would not be looking for the nearest Imperial executioner.

“Thank you Hadvar. Good bye Hadvar.” I said, and dashed after Ralof.

“Fine, I hope the dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!” Hadvar said over his shoulder as he ran off to join his comrades.

Ralof was waiting at an entrance to the keep. It was one of the last buildings left still standing. When I reached him, I held out my arms and he said, “I can cut you loose inside. Come on!”

We entered the keep and barred the door behind us. The interior almost looked as though there was nothing happening outside. I say almost because a dead Stormcloak lay near a table across the room. The chamber was decorated by tapestries emblazoned with the stylized dragon emblem of The Empire. I found that oddly ironic. Hunting trophies bedecked the walls, and there was a rug in the center of the room. Ralof went over and knelt next to his fallen comrade. I walked up in time to hear him say, “We’ll meet again in Sovngarde, brother.” Then he stood and faced me.

“It looks like we’re the only ones who made it.”

“There must be others.” I replied.

“Mayhap there are. Gods! That thing was a dragon! Just like the children’s stories and legends of old. It is a harbinger of the End Times!” Ralof said, and for the first time, I thought I detected fear in his voice. Not of dying. Ralof has already shown his bravery when it comes to death. No, this was different. I believe he was afraid of what the appearance of a dragon meant in Nordic culture.

“Be that as it may, do you think you could cut my bonds sometime today?” I asked while extending my wrists in his direction.

“Of course.” he said, drawing a dagger from a sheath at his hip. “Sorry. It was Valrimor, right?”

“Yes, and it still is, thanks to Hadvar,” I replied, rubbing my wrists after he slit my bindings, and then hastily added, “and to you of course.”

“Well, Valrimor, you might as well take Gunjar’s gear. He won’t need it anymore.” he said, gesturing to the corpse on the floor. “But be quick about it, we need to get moving.”

I knelt down and began removing Gunjar's armor. Closer inspection revealed that this man had died from a sword wound, and not from anything a dragon had done to him. I wondered where his killer was as I undressed the Stormcloak. I was hoping for a bow and a quiver of arrows, but no such luck. His only weapon was a war axe. With my shoulder being injured, this would certainly not be my weapon of choice. Of course, drawing a bowstring would be no stroll in the woods either. Thanks to my Nordic half, the armor was not a terrible fit. Just a little loose, but completely functional. When I stood back up, I gave the axe a couple swings and wished I hadn’t. Pain ran from shoulder to elbow. Best I wait until I had to actually defend myself. That should prove interesting. I have never been one for battling in close quarters with swords or axes. I know the fundamentals, but that’s it.

While I was changing and arming myself, Ralof searched for a way to move on. There were two gates, one at either side of the room. When I finished, he informed me that there was no way to unlock the gates from this side without a key. I silently cursed the Imperials. They had impounded all of my lock picking gear, along with the rest of my personal effects. My bow, my tent, my ale! They were all likely to be ashes by now.

"Well, Ralof, what now?" I asked.

A moment later, the answer presented itself.

EDIT - Fixed a nit re: Ralof.

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