Chapter 327 - My SI Stash #27 - The Red Skies of Tamriel by Charles Garett Abbott (Skyrim) (1/2)

-Another SI in Skyrim that don't waste time bullshitting, it's pretty much a speedrun~

Synopsis: Nirn is unmappable, and its denizens shall never know peace.

Rated: ???

Words: 23K

Posted on: forums.spacebattles.com/threads/the-red-skies-of-tamriel-skyrim-si.860119/ (Charles Garett Abbott)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1-3 (exceptional)

”Hey, you, you're finally awake.”

Ralof looked at the young man across from him. Blues eyes blinking open as they glanced feverishly back and forth across the cart.

'Guess he is a Nord then.' Ralof sighed, fidgeting in the binders on his arms. 'one more kinsman for the chopping block.'

The man, or maybe he was a boy, he was beardless at least, though on the other hand he was about the same height as Jarl Ulfric, looked confused. Glancing back and forth in the cart with a look of surprise as his mouth hung open slightly.

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

”Damn you-” the thief to his left started to curse, but the newly awakened man shook his head.

”No I… this is wrong.” The man grumbled. ”This, you're… hell.”

”They get you in the head or something? I'd suggest some mead but I doubt they'll let us have any.” Ralof chuckled at his own joke, earning a glare from the man, who sat upright in his seat, glancing back and forth.

”This isn't actually…” the man fidgeted in his bonds. ”Shit, well then. Good to meet you all. Lokir, my condolences.”

”Huh?” The thief beside him looked confused. ”what do you mean? And how do you know my name?”

”Actually, I suppose it's not entirely possible for you to survive. Just don't run until the dragon shows up.” The man turned to face Ralof ”that goes for all of us I suppose, though I can't imagine it matters for either of you two.”

”I think you've taken a blow too many to the head kinsman.” Ralof sighed, leave it to him to the empire to stick the Jarl and him in the cart with the crazy one. ”There hasn't been a dragon since… I don't even know how long.”

”Eh, Akatosh manifested as one in the Oblivion crisis.” The man shrugged. ”And I'm quite sure that we'll see another in a few minutes.”

”I don't think…” Ralof started but then noticed that Jarl Ulfric was looking sharply at the insane man.

”Shut up back there.” The carriage driver cracked his reigns.

Ralof sighed, and the carts denizens fell into an uneasy silence.

The madman was if course, the first to speak. ”Hmm, bigger than it was…”

Ralof looked down the road, following his gaze to find a large work of stone and wood covering the road. He recognized the sight at once as Helgen. The fortress town east of Falkreath.

”Aye, Helgen, I used to be sweet on a girl from there. I wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper Berries?”

The man glanced at him, then back to the town. ”It is a sight, though I fear that for many this will be its last day.”

”Aye.” Ralof nodded, the man was making some sense at last. ”Sovngarde awaits.”

”And there's Tullius.” The madman nodded, got blood shooting up Ralof's spine at the mention of the man as he turned to eye the military governor. ”And Elenwen, the Thalmor ambassador with him. I imagine she's here to delay the execution.”

Ralof rounded on the man at once, barely glancing at the yellow-skinned daedra. ”Why would the damn Thalmor want to delay the execution?”

”Every drop of bloodshed in Skyrim works to her advantage.” The Nord shrugged, and at once Ralof could tell he was not a Stormcloak, nor even sympathetic, for he glanced at Ulfric when he spoke, accusation plain in his eyes.

”Watch what you say.” Ralof felt himself almost growl. ”That's the true king of Skyrim that you're glaring at.”

”True king or not, the war's end is not in the Thalmor's interest. Nor in the Dragon's.”

Ralof glared at the madman, then shrugged. ”It doesn't matter anyway. From the look she's giving Tullius, I doubt her scheme was successful, whatever it was.”

”Of course not, the man's not a fool.” The madman said. ”It doesn't matter though, the Dragon will be interrupting the execution.”

”Dragons this and dragon that, what are you some kind of cultist.” The thief beside him g_r_o_a_n_e_d angrily at the man. ”They're going to kill us and all you talk about are some old stories.”

”The whole world is just an old story. I've already been here too many times to be scared.”

Ralof raised an eyebrow at the man's words as the cart rolled to a stop against one of the walls. Across the courtyard was the headsman's block. The heavyset executioner standing at the ready.

”Line up now, one at a time.”

Ralof knew that voice… ”Hadvar, you dog.” He nearly snarled as he stepped off the cart. ”Do you're the one condemning me to death eh?”

The man stared him dead in the eye, holding a list in front of him. His uniform was that of an officer, and it seemed his once friend had risen swiftly in the legion. ”Ralof of Riverwood.” The man sighed. ”You know I wouldn't do this if you hadn't become a traitor Ralof.” The man laid a mark on his paper. ”I'd rather be sharing a drink at the sleeping giant. You know that.”

”Cold comfort, Hadvar.” Ralof nearly sneered, but a shout to hurry it up saw him shoved away into a crowd of prisoners standing about waiting to die.

He turned at the noise of a scuffle behind him and saw that the madman had tackled Lohkir, even with his hands tied behind him. ”You'll die if you run. Idiot.” The man shouted at him, working his way back into his feet as the imperials watched on with odd gazes. ”They have archers right there.”

”Let me go! They're not, you're not gonna kill me!”

Ralof turned his head. The thief had no dignity in his death, unsurprising. Though the madman might have at least helped the man delay it for a few more moments at least.

They dragged the thief over at spearpoint, and the madman followed a minute later. Followed by that bitch of a captain and a rather guilty looking Hadvar.

He could muster that up for some dragon obsessed moron, but not for the man he grew up with?

Tullius shouted some imperial horseshit at Ulfric for a minute, and then the priest raised her hands up to give last rights when a roar that agent a shiver up his spine fell over the valley.

While the Imperials dismissed it. The sound left a rock in Ralof's stomach, and he glanced back and forth frantically until his gaze fell upon the madman, who was staring up towards the sky.

'Impossible…' But despite his thoughts, Ralof found his own gaze drifting skywards. He sighed in relief as he found nothing wrong. Content once again that the man was a madman and nothing more.

Lohk stopped the priestess from giving their last rights and lost his head for the effort. Fearless in death as he was in life, the man marched to the chopping block with a smile on his face and a quip on his lips. Ralof uttered a small prayer to Shor as the ax came down.

Then they called the madman, and another roar split the sky.

This time though, it came with the beating of wings, and Ralof felt the boulder return to his stomach twice as heavy when he spotted that great black shape spreading out across the sky.

Evil eyes the size of a man's fist stared down at the crowd from above as if they were all no more than ants, and Ralof felt true, real terror. Far more than he had from the headsman's ax.

Then it spoke and the sky shattered.

Ralof couldn't hear, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The world itself seemed to tear apart as firey stones rained from the heavens as if an army had laid siege to Helgen with a hundred catapults.

”Get moving you morons.”

Ralof felt a shoulder knock his back, and he stumbled but caught himself before he could fall.

Turning, he saw the mad- well, maybe less mad man, that and the thief, who was already running for cover.

”Come on, you wanna live don't you?”

Ralof nodded numbly, following behind the man as they, along with most of the prisoners, rushed into the nearest stone tower to escape the deadly rain of fire.

He was rewarded for his escape by a pat on the back.

”Ralof, good, damn good, you made it.” Jarl Ulfric patted him on the back, and Ralof felt relief that the king had made it through.

”What is that thing? Could the legends be true.”

”Legends don't burn down the villages.” The Jarl's gaze moved to the madman, or perhaps seer. ”Perhaps our friend knows more.”

”Not a good time for it I'm afraid, but yes, I do know a great deal.” The man nodded. ”Would you mind getting my binds off? I think I'll need my hands to get out of here alive.”

”Of course.” Ralof nodded, pulling the knotted ropes off of the man's wrists.

”Thank you.”

As he moved to do the same to the thief he looked back and forth. ”We can't stay in this tower, not unless we-”

Before he could finish the sound of shattering stone and roaring fire echoed out from the floor above them.

”Well, unless we want that to happen to us.” He shrugged. ”Lokir, follow me if you want to live.” The man turned to Jarl Ulfric, giving a short bow. ”I presume his majesty can make his own way out, should he so choose.”

”Don't mock me, seer.” The Jarl spoke dangerously, though neither had a weapon.

Ralof was about to follow after the two as they moved up the stairs when he felt a hand come down on his shoulder.

”Ralof, I need to talk to you for a moment.” The king said gravely. ”This town was a prison center. And someone must go to free our brothers and sisters in the keep.”

Ralof felt his eyes widen, but he nodded quickly. ”It will be done, my king.”

Chapter 2

'Talos…'

It was…

Everything was on fire.

Smoke choked his lungs as he tried to get up onto his feet, staggering in the haze of explosions and death. Burning human flesh assaulted his nostrils, and the sounds of explosions and splintering wood filled in whatever was left beyond the ringing in his ears.

Helgen was ablaze.

He could see the inn was on fire, other buildings were collapsed, some entirely, and the choking smoke and soot were everywhere. Above it all there was that great black monster, belching fire and ruin down over the world.

He tried to go for the waterskin at his hip but found it missing.

'this day just keeps on getting better and better doesn't it?'

Sighing, he pushed through the rubble by the inn. There had to be someone there right?

Palpable relief found its way into him as he saw that indeed, the ones in the inn had made it out alive, only…

Vilod lay there in the middle of the street, clutching his leg. Hadvar made to move towards him, but a hand came down on his shoulder. ”Get behind the wall.” It dragged him down, and before he could demand an answer he heard the great landing of the dragon and felt the heat of its breath bathing the wall behind him.

It seemed to last forever, the wall bathed in fiery wrath. He turned to his side to see one of the townsmen there, clutching Vilod's son to his c_h_e_s_t.

The boy had survived at least.

At his own shoulder, he found a familiar pair of men. The Prisoners, Lokir of Rorikstead, and… the other one. The one that hadn't been on the list. That one had been the one to pull him back. He must have seen the dragon coming.

As the fire at last subsided, he peeked over the barrier and at once felt like throwing up.

What was left of the innkeeper was little more than a charred skeleton, the molten flesh still bubbling around it. The smell hit him in the next moment, even as the prisoner tugged at him to move.

”Get your head on straight Hadvar.” The man commanded, and whatever it was in his voice, it worked.

'Right, I'm a legionary, In better than this.” The encounter with Ralof had shaken him, but it still wasn't his way to cower. He moved to his feet. ”Take care of the boy.” He ordered the townsman. ”I need to regroup with general Tullius.”

”God's bless you Hadvar.”

He felt a pang of guilt that he didn't even know the man's name. He had been in Helgen for a while, but still…

No, now wasn't the time to think about that. Now was the time to keep moving.

The nameless prisoner seemed to know what he was doing at least. Immediately making for the alley along the wall, which ought to provide then at least a bit of shelter. The horse thief just looked panicked in comparison. Still, he seemed convinced that the other was right, and the three of them made good time through the alley towards the square at the front of the town.

Then it came again.

A sudden fear, a shadow passing over them.

Hadvar mustered all his conviction and barked out a hasty order.

”Against the wall NOW.”