AN: Want to know the game style of a random stranger online? No? Didn't think so. But before you click the X button on this tab- it's not some boring retelling. It's an action packed story (soon to be) filled with cliff hangers and plot twists you can't just look up on skyrim wiki. Just as any rp fan, when I play the game I don't just enjoy the pleasure of power attacks and xbox achievements. Oh, no. I actually think a lot about my character's actions. Not just what I would do, but what my character would.

I know it's long for a first chapter (though my brother survived reading it), but I wanted to keep as much of the original script as I could. In this chapter Rosaeline has less of a character, but does anyone when they start the game? As the story goes on Rosaeline experiments with different skills as well as communities, until she finds one that brings out her very best. I hope you enjoy this!

Only A Fool Turns Down A Free Gem|Disclaimer: I don't own Elder Scrolls and (though I love it) wouldn't want to. All that work...I'd rather enjoy the fruits of Bethesda's labor, mwah ha ha.

I open my eyes and see my hands are bound. I can't quite recall what happened, and my head hurts like crazy. Beside me I see other prisoners with grim expressions. One of them looks to me and when realizing I am now conscious exclaims "Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush same as us and that thief over there."

I was? Oh, now I remember. That was horrible, why was I even there? I look over to the man the speaker was referring to. "Damn you Stormcloaks... Skyrim was fine until you came along! Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you I'd have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

Aha. That's why I am here. But, I am not a Stormcloak. I mean, not yet. If the imperials are the reason I'm here I definitely won't join them. I suddenly feel sick in the stomach. Why did I have to get caught up in the war? And if they think I'm a Stormcloak- what will they do to me? The thief turns to look at me. "You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." Was he making a point or an alliance?

The first man who spoke cuts in darkly "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now."

Well, so much for any hope. "Is there really no way out of this mess?" My question is drowned out by an irritated "Shut up back there."

Everyone turns to look at the driver except for one man who just looked down. The thief stares at him for a second before asking "What's wrong with him, huh?"

Was that-is that? The Stormcloak answered my question with an outraged "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Ulfric is gagged and can't speak. His face is in a set gruff expression which doesn't change the slightest at the thief's remark nor the Stormcloak's.

So that's why it's such a big deal we were caught. Or, the stormcloaks were caught. I still don't know why I am here. Oh, right. Like the thief said, we somehow got caught up in this mess. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion... if they've captured you... oh gods, where are they taking us?" I have similar thoughts in mind.

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." The Stormcloak says promises.

"No, This can't be happening! This isn't happening!"

I want to do something to calm him down. Whether it's reassurance or telling him to be quiet already for the gods sake. The Stormcloak beats me to it "Hey, what village are you from horse-thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

What about the rest of the world? Bretons like me, or another race. It was times like these when I wondered whether Nords ever thought of anything other than themselves. "Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead." The thief admits through his nerves.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting."

"Good, let's get this over with." Tullius replies.

The horse thief loses his shit completely, "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh! Divines, please help me!"

I want to shout at the guards. To cry out to the gods like the thief. I want to ask how this is fair. I want to yell in their faces that there was no Talos in the theifs prayers. That we are just loyal citizens. People. Who do not have to die. Who really, really don't want to die. "Look at him! General Tullius, the Military. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this." the Stormcloak notices where they are "This is Helgen... I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Velod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in... Funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

People gather from their houses. I feel so embarrassed, I just want to hide. Somehow I force myself to keep my head up, my back straight. I shouldn't be here. I have nothing to feel shame about. "Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" "You need to go inside, little cub." "Why? I want to watch the soldiers!" "Inside the house, now."

As the child goes inside I think of my own family. Of my best friend, Havok. How I missed them. I wonder if the guards will even tell them. And if they do? Will my people be ashamed? Will my family be scared? Will my friends be proud of me? Havok had always wanted to join the Stormcloaks. Would he ever get the chance, what with Ulfric heading to his death? "Woah…"The driver pulls in the reins and the passengers feel a jerk as they come to a stop.

A female captain walks over to us. She wears a stern expression that makes me want to curl up in fear. "Get these prisoners out of the cart!" she barks.

"Why are we stopping?" The fear in his voice tells us all he knows the answer to that already.

Ralof humors him with one of his usual cheerful statements "Why do you think? End of the line." He stands up "Let's go, we shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

At first I think he said 'guards', and I want to shout back I don't give a damn what the guards want. Then I realize what he really said and I want to cry. I'm young, and innocent. This war has taken so much, and now it wants more lives. My life. "No! Wait! We're not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief." The Stormcloak says, he gestures to me "She's not a rebel either, far as we know. Do you see her whining?"

"You've got to tell them we weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The thief's pleas seemed useless to me, but inside a part of me agreed with him. The Stormcloaks know we are innocent, why are they letting this happen to us?

"Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!" I hope I'm not last. Though putting off death is all I've ever done, I know when the end is here. If I go first, at least I get it over with. Arkay, let it be quick.

"Empire loves their damned lists." The Stormcloak mutters.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." Ulfric steps forward obediently.

I have had absolutely no take on the war before this, besides agreeing with my mother that it is a hindrance and brought unnecessary death and damage. Still, something is wrong here. Ulfric looks so defeated. His life still has a few precious seconds left, but his eyes are already hollow. As if he'd given up long ago. It-it isn't right. I had always thought the leader of the rebellion would have more fire in him then this. His follower certainly did, "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!"

"Ralof of Riverwood." The Stormcloak moves forward.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The thief panics "No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

He bolts. "Halt!" the female captain commands.

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir shouts foolishly.

"Archers!"

I close my eyes. I've seen enough battles to know what came next. "Aaa..!" at the scream my eyes open without permission. I see Lokir on the ground, he'd been shot in the knee but from where I am standing he looks good as dead. We all knew he would be soon enough.

The captain glares "Anyone else feel like running?" she asks us coldly.

No no no no no. "Wait... You there. Step forward" My legs betray me too, and I follow her command.

"Who are you?"

Who am I? I barely know anymore. My past life is over. Even if I don't die I can never be who I was. I still look the same. Golden brown skin, A bob of dark brown hair. My eyes are still green, though they've seen things they never meant to see. I'm tall enough, a bit too slim and weak built to survive long in this war without a home or allies. I'm only seventeen, but this is where I meet my end.

"Rosaeline Selve"

"You from Daggerfall, Breton? Fleeing from some court intrigue?" None of your business, imperial, I think at him furiously "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

Yeah, of course I'm not on the list. I didn't do anything. Just, let me go. "Forget the list. She goes straight to the block." I thought imperials respect lists. Rolaf said you liked them!

Maybe it's not the whole empire that's the problem. Just heartless captains like this lady. "By your orders, Captain." And also subservient wimps like this guy. Who have a heart but don't know how to use it.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp the throne." Tullius says, stepping up to Ulfric.

The voice, for real? Like a shout? Is Ulfric Stormcloak a dragonborn, like in the legends? Ulfric growls at Tullius, showing the strength of a true war leader. "You started this war, flung skyrim into chaos." Tullius continues viciously "And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

Some creature roars in the distance. By the divines, what was that. We are in Helgen, we should be safe. Well, not from the imperials, but from beasts. And what creature is large enough to make such a sound? It seemed to come from above, but that can't be right. "What was that?" the subservient wimp asks nervously.

"It's nothing. Carry on." It seems Tullius is not only as heartless as the captain, he lacks some common sense of both wisdom as well as survival instinct. Who put him in charge?!

"Yes, General Tullius!" That's not what you...urgh! Tell him he's being foolhardy." she turns to the priestess "Give them their last rights."

Please let one of them be, 'List reasons why they shouldn't die.' or even better 'evaluate the party and let the good ones go'.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the 8 divines upon you-" The priestess starts spewing senseless crap before she is interrupted by one of the Stormcloak prisoners who is not Rolaf.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." he says, and marches over to the block without even being asked. Great divines, he must be dry with fright.

The priest hesitates then replies, "… as you wish."

Even though I highly suspect the priestess's blessings were pointless, I still wonder if receiving them would make me somehow braver, or feel pain less. I push these silly hopeless thoughts away and watch with a sick feeling as the Stormcloak kneels at the block, "Come on! I haven't got all morning!" he looks up at the captain "… My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

Ooh, how I wish I had the guts to spite the captain like that. I close my eyes as the captain steps on his back. While the axe is swung I fill my ears and mind with thoughts of the cleverest most painful insults I could hurl at the imperials. Some are just plain mean, others have hints of reasoning. Like why what they are doing is wrong. Some of them I think of using, most of them suck. "You Imperial bastards!" One of the late Stormcloak's comrades shouts.

"Justice!" A towns folk shouts back.

"Death to the Stormcloaks!" Another brainwashed citizen jeers.

"...As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof says softly, making me feel a sense of sadness.

That guy was important to Ralof. He probably did many great things. But he is gone. I didn't even know his name. My sympathy becomes grief tinged with anger. This is unfair, but no one is doing anything. "Next, the Breton." My chest tightens.

I'm next. This is the end. At least it will be quick. Will I never see Havok or my family again? I don't want to die. As my brain tortures me with panicked thoughts, the creature roars again, closer. "There it is again... did you hear that?" The subservient (but smart) wimp says.

"I said... Next. Prisoner" The captain hisses through clenched teeth.

"To the block prisoner. Nice and easy." What are you saying? None of this feels easy. And if you mean death, how could you know? You're alive and well, while I'm about to be decapitated!

I am moved to the block and my whole body shakes. My eyes shut tightly, but it doesn't stop the tears from escaping. As they roll down my cheeks I hear the headsman raise his axe. My heart seems to stop and everything goes dark through my closed lids. Then a great mass hits a building with a flapping of wings and and loud, deafening roar. I scream. "What in Oblivion is that!?" The subservient wimp exclaims.

"Sentries, what do you see?" the female captain asks.

"It's in the clouds...!"

"Dragon!"

My eyes flicker open and my breath returns to me. My throat goes dry and I hyperventilate. It is the evil Alduin. From the legends. I look around to see the headsman has run off somewhere. He saved me... (The beast roars) ...and he's about to kill us all!

"Guards! Get the townsfolk to safety!"

Before I can even start to come up for a plan about my safety, Rolaf grabs my shoulder. "come on, Breton! The guards won't give us another chance. This way!"

I try to keep up as we dodge fighting guard's and the wreckage caused from Alduin's fiery breath. We enter a building and Rolaf finds a knife to cut his binds. He turns to me "Hurry, come here so I can remove yours."

As my hands are freed I feel strong for the first time since I was captured. I wring my hands, wincing at the marks made by the rope. If Rolaf can find a weapon I would find something too. Then I can defend myself, and I won't be weak and helpless any longer. Or ever again. This I vowed as we run up the stairs in search for supplies- and a way out.

I turn to see Ulfric is with us. Rolaf cuts his binds and turns to look at the Stormcloak leader expectantly "Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

The jarl of Windhelm spits out his gag. "Legends don't burn down villages."

As if to prove he indeed existed, Alduin let out another terrible roar. "We need to move, now!" Rolaf commands. They continue to run, up a flight of stairs until they reach a dead end. "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!"

I hurriedly follow the directions, turning back only once as Rolaf says "We'll follow when we can!"

I jump. The ambushed town looks oddly more frightening than when we had first arrived. Death had been more certain, but at least it had been predictable. I am not used to making fast decisions, going solo, surviving on my own. That will have to change fast. I am constantly turning my head, leaping away from the constant flow of danger. My brain hurts, my legs ache. I wanna hurl. To put it simple, everything inside me has decided to stop functioning the one time in my life I need it to work. "Haming, you need to get over here. Now! Torolf!"

Suddenly the subservient wimp is in front of me. He shouts a warning to this 'Torolf', but it is too late. Seeming frustrated, but not all together heart broken the subservient wimp yells "Gods... Everyone get back!"

Alduin lets out a lethal shout, "Yol... Toor... Shul!"

The subservient wimp sees me and says, "Still alive, prisoner?" Before I can respond he continues "Keep close to me if you want to stay that way."

Turning to the man next to him he says "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense."

"Gods guide you, Hadvar." Gunnar says.

"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar commands.

Alduin suddenly lands on the building next to me. He is right above us. Hadvar gestures for me to follow and we race to Helgen Keep. While we are running I wonder if this is a trick. What if Hadvar is turning me in? I banish the thought, and push myself to run faster. The dragon is the only thing any sane person is thinking about. As we arrive, Rolaf runs to catch up. Just then, Alduin lets out the same shout yet again, "Yol... Toor... Shul!"

The dragon breathes out a powerful fiery breath. I open my mouth to warn Rolaf, but the Stormcloak had already made it. "Quickly, follow me!" Hadvar says.

I look away from Rolaf to see that Tullius is with us. The general shouts, "Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving!"

"It's you and me, prisoner. Stay close!" Hadvar sees Rolaf "Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Rolaf taunts him.

"Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde." Hadvar snaps back.

"You! Come on, into the keep!" Rolaf tells me.

I make my decision and follow the Stormcloak. Though Hadvar seems to have my interests at heart, I do not fully trust him. A moment ago, he was letting the captain lady decapitate me! I do not forget things like that so easily. We have just gotten inside when Alduin says fiercely, "Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki." I shiver.

As we enter the keep, I see a Stormcloak. I feel my heart catch in my throat- the man is dead. I look over at Rolaf, who is crouched beside the corpse. I hear him whisper "We will meet again in Sovngarde, brother" Rolaf sees me watching and points to the body "Take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore."

I swallow, then nod. I find heavy armor, but no weapons. Putting on the armor makes me feel safer, and like I belong here. Fighting alongside an actual Stormcloak. As I am equipping the armor Rolaf examines the doors around us. From the curses he is muttering, and the expression on his face, the doors appear to be locked or otherwise inaccessible from the inside. I am wondering what we will do now when the doors open from the outside, by two imperials. "It's the Stormcloak prisoners!" they exclaim.

Rolaf quickly cuts them down. I snag the captain's armor, deciding lighter protection and avoiding any foes until I get a weapon to be my best strategy. Rolaf looks at me for a second, probably because I just discarded Stormcloak garb for an Imperial one. He just shakes his head and crouches down to take two keys from the dead soldiers. He tosses one to me, and opens the door. We have entered some sort of store room, where two more imperials are gathering supplies. I watch Rolaf's strategy, as well as his enemies as they fight. The imperials seem to be more about charging with heavy blows, while Rolaf pays more attention to footing and small movements. The Stormcloak finishes them off with a side step, before breaking their block with a power attack. When we are sure they are dead, we search their body. It seems all imperials carry mostly the same supplies, depending on their job. Rolaf looks around at various chests. Seeming pleased with their contents he tells me to look around for potions.

I search a few barrels filled with merely cheeses and salt before uncovering one with anything good. There is a magicka potion over by a table with bread, tankards, and a potion of minor healing which shall definitely be of use. Between the barrel of potions and a cabinet there is a crate containing five rock warbler eggs. Not quite sure yet what they do, I take them anyway.

Continuing downwards, we discover two stormcloaks battling an imperial torturer and his assistant. We quickly join in, Rolaf with his knife and me with some carefully placed punches, and we take down the imperials. One of the Stormcloaks survives and Rolaf asks her, "Was Jarl Ulfric with you?"

The Stormcloak shakes her head, "No, I haven't seen him since the dragon showed up".

Disappointed Rolaf walks around the room. I watch as he approaches one of the cages. Something dawns on him and he says, "Wait a second. It looks like there's something in this cage." he fiddles with the door but nothing happens, "Ah, it's locked. See if you can get it open with some picks. We'll need that gold when we get out."

He hands me twelve picks. I wonder why he doesn't just do it himself. Maybe he wants this to be a team effort, maybe it's a test. Maybe he just sucks at lock picking. I examine the lock, and it seems to be simple enough. Still, I have never done this before in circumstances such as these. It takes a few tries, but I still have plenty left over when I hear the satisfying click, and the door swings open. Inside the cage lies a dead mage wearing a novice hood, and robes. Along with this he has twenty five gold coins, and two potions of minor magicka. Next to him are a few more septims and a sparks spell tome. "Woah, is this…" I breathe, looking at the cover with a dazed expression.

The corner of Rolaf's mouth upturns in a slightly amused grin. "Yeah, a spell tome. You can keep it if you want. I have no desire for spell casting."

"Thanks" I murmur, still looking at the book. I want to explore it's secrets right then and there, but I force myself to put it away until later.

The next room we enter is clearly an armory. I grab an iron shield and mace, as well as two lockpicks. On a table outside the cage (this room seems to connect to the previous in some important way) is a knapsack. I grab it and put my supplies inside of it along with what it already contained (four lockpicks and some gold). I decide now is when I use that heavy armor I found. The mace is a one handed weapon so I grab an iron dagger as well. I put it in my bag to sell later when I see the dead torturer still has a steel dagger gripped in his hand. There are books all around us, and one title catches my eye. The Book of the Dragonborn. I snatch it, stuffing it into my bag.

Beyond is a hallway lined with cells. I find more golden septims, and stuff them in the bag with the rest. It is dreary passing by all these long dead prisoners, I grab septims (and occasionally bonemeal) trying not to look at anything too closely. A dead Stormcloak is ragged robes seems to stare right through me.

We get to a natural cave which somehow manages to be creepier than the cages. There are soldiers guarding a platform, and I nearly get impaled by an incoming armor. Now that I have suitable weapons, and some sense of who I am up against, I join Rolaf and a few other stormcloaks in the fight. I am nervous that I won't be able to hold my ground. I come to find, however, that fighting close combat isn't as complicated as I had thought. All I have to do is strike blow after blow, and wear out my enemy before they wear out me.

Though I have never been the aggressive type, in times of war all of Skyrim knew the basics of fighting. At least, how to defend themselves. In Highrock, it was no different. Struggle for power seems like a huge deal in Skyrim, but back home it is the norm. Things are not as brutal as in the second era, under the empire's rule the kingdoms in High Rock are more concrete now. However, Bretons still hold on tight to our old traditions. Almost all Bretons dream of proving themselves, with politics, or good deeds. My brother is a full time adventurer. So is my aunt. This isn't the first time I've held a weapon, nor the first time I have used one. Not even close. This is, however, the first time I have battled for my life.

We fight for some time, until only the archers are left. A few Stormcloaks head towards them, one is shot down almost immediately. We have no bows. How can we get them? I am no where skilled enough to use the sparks at all, nor my fire magic for long. It's not like I could hit them with my dagger, even if they were in a closer range. Suddenly, I notice something. The archers are standing right next to a pool of oil. Highly flammable oil. I get an idea. Praying to the divines this will work, I summon a flame. I only have enough magicka to last a few seconds, but that should be all I need. Casting the first, I shoot it in between the Stormcloaks and the archers. "What the blazes" an archer shouts, annoyed.

"Watch it!" A stormcloak says "What the hell do you think you're doing?" another adds.

Rolaf has an odd expression on his face, but he doesn't say anything. I think he's figured out what I'm doing. I hurry to do faze two before the imperials realize as well. The archers take a few steps back to avoid the flames, and that is all that I need. I shoot another flame towards the oil. The spell isn't that advanced, and can only shoot a small distance. Luckily, enough of the fire touched the oil for my plan to work.

The whole things caught ablaze in a matter of seconds. One particularly stupid archer tried stomping out the fire, and got oil all over himself, burning him faster. They were trapped!

"Nice going." A Stormcloak tells me.

"Once they're severely damaged, I can put out the flames so we might be able to save the loot." Another suggests, showing that they know ice magic.

Following through with the plan, we wait until we are sure they are badly enough wounded before putting out the flames. After the archers are all the way dead, we loot the bodies. I take my share, five septims, a few arrows, a longbow. The Stormcloaks even insist I take the petty soul gem we find. I am no soul reaper, and honestly don't see how I'll ever use it, but take it graciously. Only a fool turns down a free gem.

Rolaf and I turn to leave. The Stormcloaks stay where they are. "You're welcome to escape with us" I say.

They smile, but make no move to. "We will wait for Ulfric."

Rolaf smiles back at them, "I hope to see you all in Windhelm again one day, my brothers and sisters."

"May Talos be with you." They reply.

We wave. No matter what side of the war I end up on, I know I've made valuable friends in the meantime. I feel that our escape is near, and I await it with a mixture of fear and excitement. If I can get out of here, it means I survived the journey. But, whatever comes after?

Yay! Whew, that was probably one of the largest chapters I've written for a fanfic so far, though it sure didn't seem like it! Hopefully the next one will be equally fun to write (and of course to read). Thanks for sharing this story with me, please tell me what you think!