Thank ye kindly both of ye!
Mine eyes! They do bleed!
I kid; thank you.
And now for some epic similes; awww, yayeh! PART II
To Helgen-fane were they brought, companions bold
fated to face the headsman's edge and pass unto
the realms of Sovngarde and the Halls of Shor,
where they might feast forever with warriors great.
Just the of one broke, Lokir Thief-of-Horse fled
his doom to be slain by bowmen, arrows flying straight
and true to pierce his back and see him undone.
Imperials then did call forth their prisoner first,
a warrior courageous and Stormcloak true,
who did face death with bravery and strength
and when the axe did fall let out no cry, not one
of terror or cowardice and it is true indeed
that he doth rest now in the realm of Sovngarde,
alongside all other brave warriors that doth fight
'gainst those that seek to see Skyrim suffer
'neath the yoke of elves or drakes or tyrants other.
To headsman's block went next the Dovahkiin
and brave was he; true Skyrim-son, unflinching
did he face his fate, yielding not to fear or fright.
'Tis said that as he did lay head 'pon block,
he did see a sight most dreadful and foul,
one 'nough to put men lesser to flight;
from the skies came it, borne aloft by wings
the span of which was belike the height
of the Tower of White Gold where Emperors once
did council and govern afore Thalmor-foul saw
them toppled. With each beat of these pinions huge
was a wind called forth to bear him in the air,
a gale of such power that the mightiest pines
would be toppled, roots laid bare to the elements harsh,
and houses built 'pon foundations of granite strong
would have their eaves and girders shaken most rough
only to fall belike a sapling, in face of such airs
finding themselves bereft of strength to withstand
power so foul. Feathered not were these wings,
clad instead by scales unyielding as Skyforge steel,
uncaring for piercing of arrows or bite of blades,
crushing of maces and hewing of axe-heads,
armoured in hide spined and spiked, dark in colour
yet shining like steel fresh-forged and polished well,
so that the sun did strike and glare from it
forcing all who looked 'pon its dreadful aspect
to cover their eyes lest they be made blind.
Atop the towers of Helgen did he alight, talons
blade-sharp cutting stone crown asunder,
and 'pon the hapless township did he glare
almighty and enraged; thus came Alduin,
drake foul, monster belike none other,
world-ender and fiend most fearsome,
bane of many, enslaver of Nords, wyrm-king
terrible and dreadful, malice primordial given form.
With Thu'um spake he, breathing 'pon Helgen flame
the heat of which was greater than that which ravages
parched Elsweyr in height of summers scorching;
all that was touched by its tongues was put to torch
and blazed without check put 'pon it by any.
Struck dumb were the folk of Helgen all,
and terror uncontrollable did freeze many in place
as they looked 'pon Alduin, dread incarnate and
ender of time, the black drake's form so terrible
that the courage of all but the bravest did fail
in face of a fiend so monstrous and mighty.
Like locusts 'pon crops fresh did chaos descend,
fear scattering townfolk like leaves afore wind
and sending them searching for sanctuary of
any kind that might shield them from foul Alduin's
flame. Soldiers and mages did ready themselves,
sallying to drive away drake most-wicked,
yet spell and arrow alike could pierce not his hide
and he did descend 'pon them and rend them asunder
with claw and flame, his jaw, the span of a house
and filled with fangs akin to broadswords,
opening wide to swallow soldiers whole, and
with but one gulp, send them down into the darkness
of his stomach vast, to be seen never once more.
Through chaos and disarray most disordered
did the Dovahkiin go, hands bound still as he did
escape the block of the headsman. Mistake this not
for cowardice craven, for mighty as was he
his hands could not lift blade or shield, constricted
as they were by hempen rope, and thus it was not
possible for him to take arms against the drake
most foul; in his wisdom, he saw such a battle
would be bereft of fruit, an end most ignoble;
to die as a fool is surely an end no more worthy
of Sovngarde and Shor's halls than dying as a
craven is. And so it was that the Dragonborn
did seek refuge behind walls of stone strong,
in Helgen's keep 'longside bairn of Hod and Gerdir.
There his bonds were cut, his hands free again
so together drake-bane and Stormcloak might go
to bring word to Skyrim of events most dire;
the return of the world-eater, Alduin foul!