He watched as the Dragonborn, Slayer of Alduin and Miraak, Champion of the Stormcloaks and Skyrim, Harbinger of the Companions and Hero to the People, laid down his weapons for a life of farming and trading with his wife, Ysolda.

"Oh My Me, I'm bored!" He shouted, hurling a goblet of wine at the view in front of Him, causing it to vanish with a silent ripple. "How many times must I see this?! How much more mediocrity shall I suffer?! Why must I be cursed to watch the same thing, over and over again?!" He weeped in agonized sobs, before sitting up in His throne and snapping His fingers. "Oh wait, I'm a God! I can do whatever I want! I'll summon a new Hero and toss him in! The chaos he'll cause, not to mention the self-inflicted suffering, will be far more entertaining than this slop!"

He summoned forth a pool of iridescent green water, many different faces passing over the surface, settling on a grinning blond with whiskered cheeks. "What about a ninja? Hmm…no, too dumb and forgiving." The picture swirled, changing into a grinning man with ridiculously spiky black hair. "No, too strong and yet, useless all the same." The image changed once more, becoming a masked, red-and-black clad mercenary. "No, too self-aware." It changed again, becoming an average brunette with a red gauntlet. "No, too much fornification, not enough plotting."

He growled and slapped the surface of the pool, "These are all Heroic Heroes! I require someone more pragmatic, ambitious, and dirty!" The water resettling on the image of a man with stoic face but with the gleam of madness behind his blue eyes. "And who's this? Saul Dewitt, some base human who knows the lands of Skyrim? Perfect!" Declaring His satisfaction, He reached into the pool and grabbed the human by the collar of his shirt, hauling him up through the pond like one does an unruly, bedraggled cat.

The normal human blinked incredulously, looking around at the black void surrounding a comfortable recliner, then at the tall deity with ever-shifting features. "So…what's up?" He asked cautiously. "If this is a demon summoning, my sister's in the next room over. Unless there's a bunch of succubi about to come in, then I'm definitely your guy."

"This is no lower demon summoning ritual!" He cried, throwing His arms out wide. "I am…Randolious, the Observant Beyond! And I have brought you here…to caper for my amusement in a land you know of, Skyrim. I am also incredibly bored."

"I can tell," Saul replied, rubbing his hands together as he squinted up at the deity. "Being as bored as you are, perhaps you would allow me a few boons? As long as they are in the name of entertaining you."

Randolious paused in consideration, a pleased smirk on His ever-changing face. "Aware of your purpose but a minute, and already proving yourself perfect. I think, perhaps, a touch of those 'gaming' interfaces mixed with reality will do just fine," He nodded in decision. "Some things will adhere to the game systems, such as gaining experience, health, stamina and magicka, reaching new heights, gaining new skills, trading, carrying your equipment and crafting will be game-like, everything else shall be as in life."

"Thank you very much," The human bowed shortly, humming in thought. "Can I die permanently?"

"Indeed, but if it's humiliating and sufficiently entertaining, I'll send you back to the hour before your death," Randolious, Observant Beyond replied immediately. "Now, anymore questions before I send you forth on this adventure?!"

"Can I fast travel?" Saul shrugged. "For expediency. Watching me walk or ride a horse everywhere wouldn't be enjoyable, I don't think."

The deity bobbed His head. "A valid point," He mumbled, "Why not? But only in the form of Mark and Recall, a form of Conjuration magic that can be upgraded with accrued skill. Any other boons you desire? Keep them reasonable, my patience is not INFINITE!"

Saul wriggled a finger inside of his ear. "Please stop shouting, I'm right here. Also…" His eyes gleamed with madness in the low light of the void. "There are these things that could be done to the game that would change the world, modifications. Can I ask for those?"

Randolious opened His mouth to deny, then paused in thought. Vision of further chaos flashed in his mind, and He grinned widely. "Indeed," He said, getting a joyous gasp from the human, only to cut it off quickly. "But! For every modification that increases your ability without difficulty, the world and its dangers will grow to match you!" He declared with an authoritative gesture at the sky, his finger snapping like the retort of a crumbling mountain. "Although, ones that simply expand upon the history and logical inclusions are free. In fact, already done."

The human sat on the ground, rubbing his scruffy chin in thought. "Alright, well, the first mod I want…skimpy female everything," He stated, grinning as his eyes gleamed. "Clothes, armor, everything."

"Ha!" The Observing One barked out a laugh. "Granted, with no penalties! I'll even make it so they do not realize how exposed they are! They won't even be affected by the weather! Next!"

"The one that makes all the ladies appropriately muscular and beautiful, without turning them into pouting models," Saul said next, "And where the female companions are protected despite the look of the armor."

"Granted. Remember, logical inclusions have already taken effect," Randy stated, waving a hand impatiently.

"Cheat room?" Saul asked.

"No."

"Naruto overhaul?"

"Only if you want every enemy to be Madara."

"So no. How about all the ones that make the towns and cities actually big and stuff?" He asked next, snapping his fingers in remembrance. "Oh, and and all the texture and graphics updates."

Randolios blinked incredulously, then gave Saul a look that let him know just what the Deity thought of his intelligence. "I know you are not this stupid. I'm sending you to the actual land of Skyrim. Have you ever seen Skyrim in real life?! It is MAJESTIC!"

Saul winced, shrugging carefully. "Alright, I just assumed it would…Ahem. How about Ordinator perks, Apocalypse Magic, Free Enchanting, Royal Armories, Unique Uniques, Awesome Artifacts, Scoped Bows, Weapons of the Third Era, that one where you can recycle weapons and armor, the one that gives you three times as much gold, oh! And a mod that makes Serana marriable!" He pointed at the deity with a determined scowl.

"…That's under the realism part," Randolious pointed out, summarily ignoring the mutterings of 'My vampire-waifu' and snapped his fingers. "Now, hurry up! I'm becoming bored! You wouldn't like me when I'm bored..."

"The one where I can smack Delphine around instead of killing Paarthurnax! And being able to become High King! Falskaar, Recorder, Sophia…wait, no, I hate Sophia. Multiple followers! Multiple marriages! All the traders have more than a handful of gold! Uh…oh! All the monsters, like Flame Atronachs, Spriggans and Wisp Mothers are all hot! And romanceable! Also, Frost Atronachs, Storm Atronachs and Dremora are also hot ladies!" Saul paused in thought. "And I'll survive the experience. And enjoy it."

Randolious held up a hand containing far more digits than a human hand. "In order: yes, realism, indeed, I believe I can allow that, realism and realism again, why not, and fuck yes! Follow your desires to your heart's content! Although…" He tapped his chin in thought. "If you wish to fornicate with the female creatures, you must make an appropriate sacrifice…I'm of the mind that you must sacrifice a soul gem, as long as it's filled with a mammalian soul, it shall bridge the gap of…compatibility. The quality of the gem will increase the duration. Petty gems last fifteen minutes, lesser gems last half an hour, ect."

"Sweet!" The human cheered, pumping a fist. "How about…Magicka Sabers? I've always wanted to wield a laser sword."

"No actual lightsabers, but Magicka Sabers are acceptable," the Observant Deity acceded, before holding up a finger. "You must to invent them yourself, though."

Saul shrugged, already having a simple idea to create such a thing. "Yeah, alright. Uh…I can't think of anything else. Oh, wait!" He glanced around, tenting his fingers in front of his mouth, which did nothing to hide the disturbing sparkle in his eyes. "There are…quite a few ladies who are enemies…perhaps a spell or something to…make them not?"

"…You have a filthy mind," Randolious noted, a wide smile displaying far too many teeth. "I knew I made the right choice with you. Done."

Saul grinned and chuckled under his breath, rubbing his hands together. "Well, I think I'm all set…as I can be, considering you're about to throw me into a previously fictional world where dragons, undead, soul-sucking gems and Daedra exist…" The human paled for a brief moment, before shaking his head. "Fuck it, let's do it!"

"That's the spirit!" The Observant One cheered, opening a portal to Skyrim with negligent flick of His wrist. "Go forth, adventurer, wreak havoc and bring me much joy!"

The human made for the portal, only to stop at the very edge. "One last thing!" He spun around to face the deity. "I know pretty much everything there is to know about the quests! Can I use my knowledge and change everything?"

The deity stared at him for a few silent seconds, before proud tears began to leak from His eyes. "…I love you," He sniffed, nodding rapidly. "Of course, do as you please! Create as much chaos as possible! Now fly, my pretty, FLY!" Randy shoved him through the portal, wiping the last tear from His cheek and flopping down in His armchair. "And now, to be entertained!"

A viewing portal blazed into life before Him, Saul's adventures in Skyrim flashing before His eyes. After a few seconds of observing, He realized something He'd completely overlooked in his excitement. "Oh, you crafty mortal fuck!" He threw His head back and laughed, long and hard. "You think you can trick me without consequence, you magnificent little bastard? Oho, I don't think so!"

…

I heard the jangling of reins and the clopping of hooves long before my sleep crusted eyes fluttered open, sitting up in the back of the carriage with a low groan. "Stop bothering me Sissie, I only kicked half your boyfriend's ass," I muttered sleepily, blinking slowly. But instead of seeing the inside of my bedroom, with my desktop and Xbox on one side and a shrine to my Grandma on the other, I was sitting in the back of a carriage across from a dirty man with blonde hair.

Oh good, so I wasn't dreaming.

…Oh shit, I wasn't dreaming.

Next to him was a thin man with brown hair and a shifty face, while sitting next to me was sturdily-built blond man with a gag in his mouth. Ulfric Stormcloak. His clothes were better than the leather and chainmail that Ralof wore, built for both protection, warmth and to project a stately appearance. So why the fuck did they count as clothes in the game?! There's even steel plate under the coat!

Of course, hysteria colored my thoughts. I doubted the shock would fade anytime soon.

But anyways, fuck Ulfric Stormcloak, he can take his rebellion of racists and shove it up his Nordic asshole. If I had my way, I'd unite Skyrim, end the war, become the strongest Dragonborn in history, become King!

…And gather the greatest women in Skyrim around me, not limited to but definitely including Serana…my vampire waifu. Now there is a woman deserving of love, especially the love of a powerful Dragonborn…She just wasn't the only one.

I barely paid attention to whatever Ralof was saying, partially because I'd literally heard it a hundred times before; but mostly because I was looking at the environment. Early morning sun, silver through the clouds descended like swords of light, filtered through the snow-flecked trees to catch the dew drops and set them glittering. The air was chilled and fresh, carrying the scent of pines, snow and rain on the breeze that whistled through the grey and brown trunks. It was stunningly beautiful, superior to every graphic mod in existence…

It was also cold as all hell. I eyed the Jarl sitting next to me, his coat more specifically. Whenever I got the chance…I would snatch it. He's a Nord, he can take it. "Watch your tongue, horse-thief!" Ralof barked and I jumped, thinking he was talking to me, even though I hadn't said anything to them. "You're speaking Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim!"

Nuh way. That's gonna be me, soon, and I don't share power. Not with dudes, anyway, unless they're super cool. And Ulfric most definitely does not count.

"Shut up back there!" The guard driving the carriage barked. Yes please, shut up so I could enjoy the scenery more, for fuck's sake.

A stone gate with wooden doors came into view as the carriage clopped along, and over Ralof's shoulder I could see General Tullius in his gold armor ornamented but still pragmatic, sitting atop a mighty horse as he talked with a High Elf who, going by the golden skin, pointed ears and foreknowledge, was…Thalmor Emissary Elenwen. Oho, we're going to have so much fun, you and I…

I also got my first view of what skimpy Thalmor robes looked like, though the distance meant it was only a brief glimpse of supple golden skin. The weird god had followed through with my wishes…and he hadn't caught on, either.

Riding through Helgen, taking in the wooden buildings, stone walls and towers draped with Imperial flags, I heard the townsfolk murmuring about 'the damn Stormcloaks' while the horse-thief started praying as he saw the headsman's block. "Hey man," I said casually, "Don't worry about it. Give it a couple minutes and it'll all work out." But he wasn't going to listen to me. Not like I cared.

"Aye," Ralof agreed solemnly, "Sovngarde awaits." That's not what I meant, dipshit, but keep thinking that.

The carriage pulled to a stop near the largest tower in the center of town, heavily-armored Imperials stepping forward to make sure I and my fellow prisoners wouldn't make a ruckus or an escape attempt, while archers waited in the wings. But, of course, the trouble wouldn't come from us…but on black wings.

…I was being a bit pretentious, yes, but I was still shocked out of my mind. Pretension is where I go when I'm scared. At least I wasn't gibbering with terror.

Carefully standing up, we prisoners shuffled out of the wagon, dropping to the rough cobbled road beneath. Before us stood a pair of Imperials, a man in leather with sections of chainmail strategically placed, who was holding a leather-covered book in one hand and a quill in the other. "Ulfric Stormcloak," He announced, marking it down as the gagged rebel stepped forward proudly, his head back and chin high. I only barely noticed that, though, my eyes were on the female Captain behind him. And for good reason.

Her chest armor would be a called a modest bikini back in my world, leaving the entirety of her stomach and a wide valley of cleavage bare. Her skirt, far from being a respectable and dignified Roman-worthy affair, was shorter, showed off most of her thighs and enhanced her hips. Her boots were less 'boots' and more high-heels with steel shin guards. But her pauldrons and helmet, however, were untouched, giving her a slightly top-heavy look.

It took all my willpower to not break out into laughter that was both triumphant and more than a little crazy, but I managed to distract myself by watching the corded muscle in her arms flex as she put her hands on her hips, glaring at Ulfric Stormcloak as he strode by.

"Ralof of Riverwood!" Hadvar called, the dirty blond guy stepping passed me as his name was called. "Lokir of Rorikstead!"

The shifty-looking guy who was riding with me was shaking as he stepped forward, his hands out in a plea. "You can't do this! I'm not a Rebel!" Seeing no comfort or mercy in the Imperial's faces, he bolted around Hadvar, ducking as the Captain reached out to grab him. "You're not gonna kill me!"

That proved to be a lie as the Captain shouted, "Archers!" And the two men behind her nocked arrows and calmly shot the fleeing man in the back. One arrow pierced through his chest, where the right lung would be, and the other hit him in the base of his neck. The horse-thief collapsed with a wet gurgle and died a second later. "Anyone else feel like running?"

…Huh.

That's it, Bitchy Captain-Woman, you're definitely my first target…not because she killed Low-key or whatever his name was, she was just a bitch.

"Wait a moment. You there, step forward," Hadvar frowned at me, peering at the book in his hands before squinting up at me. "Who…are you?"

As I opened my mouth to answer, my world-view spun around, bringing me face-to-face with myself. I stood there in crappy sackcloth garments, rough pants and a shirt, my face a tad dirty and my eyes gleaming with what appeared to be madness. I was actually born sick and prematurely and my eyes hadn't finished properly developing, so my eyes just gleamed, I wasn't actually insane. You have no idea how much trouble I got into just because I looked like I was about to cackle and announce my plan for world domination.

The interesting thing, however, was a list to my left with the name of various races. Scrolling down, my jaw dropped as my body changed into an Orc; my skin became green, my teeth became sharper and larger, my ears became pointed but my eyes stayed the icy blue color. It was actually pretty ugly on an Orc.

When I scrolled down to Khajiit, I changed into a cat-man. My fur was a platinum brown color, like my hair, with large ears that were pierced several times over with golden rings. Oh hell no, I ain't no damn cat.

The Argonian was much the same, with dark grey scales, curled horns and red frills behind them. Both retained my eyes, and both times it was incredibly creepy to see human eyes in animal-ish faces. And as tempting as it was to be an Argonian, being both a Dragonborn that looked like a small dragon and being able to breathe water, I liked being human, thank you very much.

The human versions were pretty boring, actually, just me with different heights and skin colors. A Wood Elf made me a lot thinner, gave me a tan, pointed ears and angled eyes, while a Dark Elf made me a bit taller with charcoal-grey skin, and High Elf made me much taller, with golden skin and what could only be called a 'resting bitch face.'

I was going to be a sneaky-sneaky shooty-stabby type, but in the totally broken way that let me also go toe-to-toe with all the big bad beasties if I had to fight them straight-up. And to do that, I would need to be a Nord, so I scrolled down and picked it. Then it asked if I wanted to be a hybrid.

And fuck yes I did. Magic was too useful to leave by the wayside, Fast Traveling aside, but I also needed combat skill so I didn't get eaten by a wolf. And the best one for that, was a hybrid Nord and High Elf. Bonuses to combat and magic skills, with increased magicka regeneration and frost resistance, though at a lower level than a pure Nord or High Elf. Of course, that left my Sneak skills a tad low, but the Way Stones were just after leaving Helgen, so I could grab that and grind to my heart's content.

Well, actually, to grind for my very broken special type of sneaky, I needed to do a few simple things first. And then grind-time after that. No way in hell I'm letting myself get bushwhacked, not by bandits or dragons. In Skyrim, Dragonborn bushwhacks you!

Being a hybrid of a Nord and a High Elf made me a few inches taller than the Nords, with a slight point to my ears and light gold color to my skin. Satisfied, I went into the other menus to decide my features. I bulked myself up a bit and made my hair a bit longer for the cold, and left some stubble on my face. Otherwise, I left my visage alone, I like my face. And I couldn't change the eyes, for some reason.

The tattoos were cool, but they also brought out the maniacal gleam in my eyes and I wanted people to trust me, so that was right out.

Done, I locked in my choices and suddenly, I was back in my body. I felt more muscular and Hadvar had to look up to meet my eyes, but otherwise I felt about the same. "Saul…us Dewitt," I announced, somewhat lamely. Might as well make my name sound a bit more fitting to the setting, right?

Hadvar scribbled my name down. "You choose a bad time to visit Skyrim, halfblood," he sighed, looking over his shoulder at the woman standing with her hands on her hips. "What should we do, Captain? He's not on the list."

She turned to me, eyes raking up and down my form before she sneered. My jaunty wink wasn't appreciated. "He goes to the block, just like everyone else," she growled, turning on her heel and stomping towards the headsman.

"Well, that's not very fair," I said casually, stretching my bound wrists and sorely wishing I could scratch myself. Tattered rags; not very comfortable.

"We'll make sure you're buried with the proper respects," the Imperial list-reader reassured me, his tone low. "Follow the Captain, prisoner."

I already was, getting a rather nice view of her toned ass as she pushed through the throng of Stormcloaks, coming upon the sight of Tullius, his eyes hard as he stared down Ulfric. "Ulfric Stormcloak," he began scornfully, "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 his throne."

I couldn't hear exactly what Mr. Rebel Boss-man said in reply, due to the gag in his mouth, but I imagined it was something along the lines of 'Kiss my ass.' Credit where credit is due.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into Chaos!" Tullis barked, his knuckles whitening on the hilt of is his sword as if he was resisting the urge to pull it out and gut Stormblanket on the spot. Actually…why didn't he? It would save everyone a lot of time. "And now, the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"

Everyone paused and looked up at the mid-day sky as a strange, deep noise echoed through the air. "What was that?" Hadvar asked, craning his neck to peer at a nearby mountain.

"Nothing," the Imperial General muttered, shaking his head. "Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius," the Captain replied, nodding at a priestess I'd just noticed was standing next to her. "Give them their last rights."

…Wow. She had a hood attached to a pair of long, wide sleeves and a tan scarf that wrapped around her neck and draped artfully on top of her chest, giving a rather teasing view of her very perky-looking breasts. Below that, her robes were cut in such a way that gave snapshots of her stomach and thighs before coming together to cover her crotch and the front of her legs.

If the priestesses had looked like that back home, I would've been devout.

She raised her arms (which did very nice things to her chest) and began to speak, but my eyes were drawn to the burly man in black leathers, most of his face covered by a hood. In his hand, he held a long axe with a long blade, stained black with old blood. At his feet, there sat a wooden block with a groove cut out of it, leading to a basket. And on the center of that block, there were a series of grooves, and splashes of red in varying shades of black.

…Huh.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and get this over with!" A voice next to me barked, a Stormpillow striding passed me with his head held high.

The priestess lowered her arms and shot him a dirty look, sulking off behind the contingent of Legionnaires. "As you wish." The 'asshole' she wished to add went tactfully unvoiced.

There was a second of confusion, before the eager-to-die Stormcloak barked, "Come on! I haven't got all morning!" That made the Imperial Captain get back into action, stepping up behind him, putting a foot in the back of his knee to make him kneel. As the headsman raised his axe above his head, the Stormcloak smirked. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperial. Can you say the same?"

Thwack. His head, propelled by the blood spurting from his neck, rolled down the slope and landed in the basket with a gentle thump.

…Huh.

The Captain carelessly nudged the freshly-made body with her foot and it slid off the block, landing in just the right way to show me the stump. "As fearless in death, as he was in life," Ralof sighed beside me, sounding proud.

…Dude. DUDE. His head just got hacked off! His HEAD. Cut OFF.

What. The Fuck.

"Next, the halfbreed in the rags!" the Captain barked, pointing a finger of doom directly at me. Why me?! The leader of the rebellion that's caused so much chaos was right there!

Actually…

"Hold on," I spoke up, stopping to clear my throat, "I get some last words, right?" A second, louder and definitely animalistic roar echoed across the sky. I couldn't help but feel relief, which really should've been a warning. I was actually looking forward to the threat of being eaten alive or burnt to a crisp than having my head chopped off. Just wonderful.

"There it is again," Hadvar wondered aloud, "Did you hear that?"

"I said, next prisoner," the bitchy Imperial growled, her hand on her sword.

"Wait, wait-wait," I said hurriedly, holding my bound hands up, "Before this all goes down, I just have a question I wanna ask."

"Quit stalling!" A Stormcloak near Ulfric called out, his voice thick with irritation.

Scowling, I turned and pointed at him. "You, yeah you. Fuck you." I turned back to the Captain, then to Tullius, since he was the one actually in charge. "So, if you're going to restore the peace by killing all the Stormcloaks (which I'm not one of, by the way) and their leader…" I slowly pointed at the gagged Jarl mere feet away. "…Why aren't you executing him first?"

Tullius blinked. Ulfric scowled at me for a brief second, before he frowned in thought. Then, quietly, he looked at the Imperials and cocked his head in question. As did the other Stormcloaks. And the Imperials. I couldn't see them, but I'm pretty sure the villagers did too.

The General opened his mouth, but said nothing, looking to the Captain in confusion. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Then she flushed, turned to me and coughed out, "Block! Now!" There were quiet snickers at her obvious lack of an answer.

I looked up at the sky and upon seeing no spiky black dragons, frowned. Dammit. That meant I'd have to get…into the position. Sighing, I stepped forward and stood at the block. The Captain's foot hit the back of my knee, definitely harder than she'd done with the first Stormcloak, and I fell onto the wood. Warm, sticky blood coated my cheek and my neck, the sharp copper tang invading my nostrils.

It was fucking gross.

The headsman clasped his axe in both hands and began to raise it…and deep, terrifying roar split the air. "What in Oblivion is that?!" I heard Tullius shout as the giant black form of Alduin soared into my vision.

"Sentries, what do you see?!" The Captain shouted, a note of panic in her voice.

Alduin landed on the tower above us, burning red eyes peering down at us from a thickly-armored face, the spikes on his scales like scythes. "Dragon!" A Stormcloak screamed.

'No shit!' I wanted to scream back. But my voice had left me. Terror had gripped my heart and in that moment…I really wished I was home.

Mommy.

Evidently, the dragon wasn't satisfied by the level of chaos he had caused, growling and rearing back to shout, ripples of power escaping his maw. The sky boiled, thick, ashen clouds swirling together into a rolling stormfront. It began to rain, but not water. Rocks bigger than my head, trailing hellish fire that exploded as they impacted the ground, the tower, the buildings…and the people.

A flaming meteor slammed into the ground just behind the headsman, the detonation sending me and him tumbling to the dirt. My vision blurred, a high-pitched screech ringing in my ears, not helped at all by the screaming, shouting and explosions going on around me. "Hey! Halfling! Get up!"

A rough hand grabbed me by the shoulder and shook me, the ringing fading away as I shook my head. Standing above me, Ralof shook me again and pulled me to my feet, crouching low as another fiery rock impacted the wagon we rode in on. "Come on! The gods won't give us another chance!"

I made to follow him but stopped, spinning around to look for the headsman; or his axe, more specifically. "Wait!" I found the headsman…that is to say, his pieces. Most of his body had been pulped, then shredded…or shredded then pulped, but either way, he was dead.

…Huh.

And his axe was ruined, too.

Following Ralof into the tower, Ulfric slammed the door shut behind us and we rested against the stones, breathing hard. A guy Stormcloak stood over two others, both clutching bleeding wounds, chips of rock and ash marking their skin. "Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing?!" Ralof asked incredulously, "Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," Ulfric replied gruffly, and through his stoic facade, I could see the panic in his eyes. "We need to move, now!"

"How about untying me first?!" I shouted over another explosion, waving my bounds hands around.

"No time!" Ralof called, shoving me up the steps. And unless I wanted to face-plant on stone stairs, I had to move.

Another Stormcloak was at the first landing, desperately shifting rubble aside. "Help me with this, we need to get through-!"

A giant black head smashed through the wall, sending even more debris scattering through the air and knocking the Stormcloak to the ground. I slammed myself against the wall as Alduin unleashed a river of flames on the poor guy, reducing him to a smoking, blackened skeleton in mere seconds.

…Huh.

The scent of burning flesh reached my nose, and I probably would've felt hungry if I wasn't already on the verge of screaming and hurling so hard my internal organs would go shooting out of my mouth.

Alduin withdrew and, without waiting for Ralof's directions, I leaped through the newly-made window, through the smashed roof of the inn below and landed on the second floor with a crack.

Oh god, my ankles!

My vision flashed red and a bar appeared at the bottom of my vision, contracting slightly as I took damage. Oh good, that god wasn't lying.

Running to the edge of the second floor, I slipped down safely and stopped just outside of the inn, where Hadvar was crouching next to an old, bald man and shouting at a kid, who was kneeling next to the fallen form of a man. "Haming, you need to get over here-now!" He shouted, and the man weakly pushed the kid away as Alduin landed behind him with an earth-shaking crash. "Torolf!"

I threw myself at the ground as a wide tongue of flames scorched the air, crying out as I felt the hairs on the left side of my head curl from the heat. Shakily pushing myself up, I found a hand gripping my elbow, hauling me to my feet. "Still alive, prisoner?" Hadvar asked, clear tracks marking the sweat that trailed down his grime-marked face. "Stay close to me if you want to keep it that way!"

He turned to say something to the old man and the kid and I ran, passed the burning corpse and through the gap between a stone wall and a smoking building. I stumbled as the World-Eater landed on the wall, the tip of a giant black wing brushing my arm as I skidded to a halt.

I heard the twang of a bowstring, heard the whistle of the wind through the fletching for a brief second as an arrow split the air. Then it bounced off Alduin's nose with a pathetic tink.

That was, obviously, an enormous insult, and the dragon unleashed another gout of flames at the brave, dumb bastard who shot at him before taking to wing again. I inched around the wall, giving the smoldering corpse a few glances, making sure there wasn't anything I could use to cut myself free, but no. All the metal the man had been carrying had been melted, even his sword.

I pushed through the burning house, uncaring of the shard of burning wood that scratched my thigh, my health bar dropping minutely. Tullius stood near the gate, his sword held loosely in his hand as he screamed orders, archers loosing arrows wildly, the priestess throwing fireball after fireball at the black dragon swooping through the columns of smoke.

I looked towards the Keep and I saw the armored form of the Bitchy Captain as she directed citizens through the door. Oh hell no, she wasn't getting away from me. I would have my revenge.

I barely noticed the screaming, the smoke, and scent of ash and the roar of Alduin's flame breath as it roasted people and buildings, as I sprinted at her. I must've been shouting or something, because she turned around to look at me just as I put my shoulder down and slammed into her, carrying her through the door and into the Keep. Heat licked at my heels and I stumbled over the stone, impacting a pillar and falling to ground, stunned.

"I think we're safe for now," Hadvar muttered, helping me up. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it. You, me, and the Captain. It was very brave of you, saving her like that."

I blinked, shaking my head slightly. "Wha?"

"That dragon would've toasted her if you hadn't pushed her out of the way," the list-man explained, drawing a dagger from his belt and cutting through my bonds with one quick motion. "Although, you did kind of slam her into a pillar, I don't think she'll be very appreciative."

Whoops. She wanted to cut my head off just because I was on the same cart as the Stormcloaks, and I doubted a dragon would make her any less decapitation-happy. I needed something. And I had something.

…Just no idea how to get it. Pause, I thought, the world stopping as the familiar Skyrim menu popped up. On the right side, Inventory. One the left, Powers. And at the top, Skills. But there was no bottom Map menu.

The menu shifted as I looked and Powers, finding it just as it was in the game, with all the different magic schools separated by name, with Powers at the bottom. Opening that, I found a small list. Half-Nord: 25% Frost Resistance (Passive). Half-Altmer: +25 Magicka (Passive). And then, under that, a power called 'The Touch.'

The Touch: You've got it. And the Power. Using this power while touching someone will allow you to change their mind however you want with your words. Make your enemies into pals! Want a new best friend? Or a lover? All it takes…is a touch. Useable four times a day.

It was exactly what I needed. Equipping it, I closed the Powers menu and opened the inventory. Just as I'd thought, I had only a Ragged Shirt, a pair of Ragged Trousers, and Ragged Footwraps. Going back, I re-opened the Powers menu and looked at the Magic. There were two spells, Heal and Sparks, which fit me just fine. I'd always wanted to pull a Palpatine. Curiously, there was no damage number, just a Magicka cost.

And in Conjuration, there was Mark and Recall: Leave a Mark in any location, and Recall there instantly, bringing any Party Members with you. Only two Marks may be placed at your skill level. Well, I knew what I had to grind…

…Besides everything.

Closing it down, Hadvar sprang back to life. "Might want to take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from." He winced, rubbing a stretch of raw pink skin on his arm. "I'm going to look for something for these burns…and the Captain's head."

"Ugh…" Said Captain moaned, pushing herself up slowly, "What hit me…?" Then, her eyes fell on me and she growled, "You!"

"Captain, wait!" Hadvar protested as she drew her sword and lunged at me.

Luckily, she was still pretty dizzy and missed by a wide margin, leaving an opening just large enough for me to reach out and grasp her shoulder. My fingers tingled, and I knew the power was working. "You like me now," I said quickly, before adding, "I'm your friend, and you'll follow my orders…but not if they're stupid."

The Captain halted, shakily sheathing her sword as she turned to face me. "I…I'm sorry," she whispered morosely, a hand rising to cover her face. "I almost killed you, even though you saved me…after I almost had your head cut off."

"It's alright…" I paused awkwardly, since I didn't know her name. "The War hasn't been easy on anyone."

"That's no excuse," she shook her head roughly. "We aren't savages…but I certainly made it look that way, didn't I?" The Captain took her helmet off, releasing her hair from the tight bun it had been in and running a hand through it. "My name is Clauda, by the way. Grab whatever you need and let's get out of here."

As I moved to get some armor, I saw Hadvar staring at me, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "That…that was incredibly moving," he said, turning back to his searching.

What the hell did I say? Shaking it off, I cracked open a chest, finding a set of light Imperial Armor inside. Reaching inside, I tapped the armor and it disappeared. A sudden extra weight at my hip made me look down and I realized there was a belt tied around my waist, with a simple leather pouch hanging from it. Pulling it open, I reached inside…and continued reaching inside until my fingers brushed the leather. Grabbing it, I pulled the Imperial armor out and shook it. Then I put it back in, and thought, Inventory.

The menu opened, and I equipped the armor from the menu. Instantly, the rough sackcloth I'd been wearing was replaced by the slightly-less uncomfortable leather armor. I figured out I could put clothes and armor on manually, or equip them from the menu. And as easy as it was to just equip everything, losing the ability to clothe myself from sheer laziness was not something I wanted to fall prey to.

The chest nearby that one yielded a light helm and a pair of leather boots that I put slipped and and tightened. "Legion armor suits you," Captain Clauda noted admiringly, narrowing her eyes as she rebound her hair and put her steel helm back on. "Although you look a little awkward in leathers. Something a little heavier might fit you better."

"My thoughts exactly," I muttered, stretching my arms and feeling an odd wriggling in my stomach. Actually, I knew exactly what it was: Fear. In the next room, I was going to have to kill some people. Although, I still had three more uses of The Touch…

"Take this," Hadvar tossed me a sheathed sword that I tied to my belt, pulling it out a bit to examine the serviceable iron blade. It wasn't pretty, but it'd work. "And one of these, too." It was a simple shield, tough hide stretched over a wooden frame and bolted in place. I wouldn't be pulling any Captain America shit with it, but it'd protect me.

"I saw several Stormcloaks escape into this place," Clauda warned, drawing her wide steel sword and hefting another Hide Shield on her arm. "I doubt they'd be willing to listen to reason, given who they follow, but we should try and work together. That dragon…I think it may be the start of something worse than the Civil War."

I reached up and yanked on the pull-chain locking the door, the wooden grate swinging open. The Captain took point as voices echoed from down the hall. A pair of Stormcloaks rested near a wide wooden door, their eyes widening as they saw us. "Hey now, let's talk-"

"Imperial bastards!" One of the pair, a male, shouted as he drew an axe and swung, Clauda deflecting the blow with her sword. The second, a female with dirty blonde hair and a two-handed battleaxe, screeched as she swung at me. Raising my shield, my arm shook as the blow gouged a chunk out of the hide and I stepped in, my free hand tingling as I grabbed the Stormcloak by the face.

"You like me now! You'll follow me and also you've realized the Stormcloaks are dumb!" I shouted over the sound of Hadvar and Clauda double-teaming the other guy, his life ending with a spray of blood as the Captain lopped his head off.

The woman stumbled, her eyes glazed slightly before she shook her head. "You're right," she muttered, leaning on her axe and ignoring the bodies of her former comrades. "We should work together to get out of this mess…but I don't think the Stormcloaks will agree. They hate the Empire too much."

She had a rather nice accent. "Imagine that, a Stormcloak acting reasonable," Clauda muttered acidly, as I rolled a dead man for his goods. His chest armor was damaged, but his gloves were not, even if they were fur. Protection was protection. I tested the crude iron axe that'd been lying next to him and found it to be more comfortable in my hand than the iron sword. Not that I didn't like swords, I was just used to handling a different style. "You're staying in front, Stormcloak. Saulus may trust you, but I do not."

"The name is Cella!" The blonde woman rebuked, tugging on the end of her hair. "And I doubt I will be a Stormcloak after this." She walked ahead, her axe resting on her shoulder as we descended into the keep.

In front of us, I could see the shadows of people further in, but the earth shook and a muffled roar echoed through the air. I lost my feet as tons of rock crashed down in front of me, the dust rising to choke the air. A strong, feminine hand clasped my shoulder and helped me up, and I found myself nodding at Cella. "Thanks."

She nodded back and pushed open a nearby door. "This seems to be the only way forward," she noted, perking up slightly as she saw two more Stormcloaks inside. "Hail! Join us, as we make for safety!"

"Cella!" Both of them were men, greeting her happily before they saw me, Clauda and Hadvar behind her. "Imperials, look out!" One picked up a nearby bottle and hurled it at us, drawing their weapons and charging.

The one on the left drew his arm back to attack, but was forced to block as Cella swung at him. "Traitor!" He shouted, shoving her away and winding up. I jumped in front of her, catching the blow on my shield and grunting as the force shook my arm, my health bar dropping a bit. I made to attack with my axe, but the Stormcloak shifted his grip and faster than I could follow, rapped the side of my head with butt of his warhammer.

I tripped back, dazed, and he put his all into unleashing another blow. Cella slipped in front of me, raising her axe and stumbling as the hammerhead crunched into the haft of her weapon. I jumped forward, smashing the Stormcloak in the face with my shield. As he flinched back, I drew my axe back and swung at his head.

The blade bit into the side of his neck, lodging in his spine with a crunch. His eyes went wide, following the haft of my axe up my arm and into my eyes. In that moment, we had connected. I could feel the fear in him, the dismay…then I ripped my axe out and he collapsed like a felled tree.

…Huh. I Killed a man for the first time. In all the stories I've read, I should've been hurling up my insides, the guilt pouring from my eyes…but I wasn't. I felt…not good, but not bad, either. A sort of primal satisfaction, and the slightest bit of guilt. After all, I'd just killed a man who was much more experienced than I was…but I could have used my Touch on him. And I didn't want to.

The other Stormcloak was taken care of when Hadvar slipped under his guard and stabbed him through the chest. "Check the room for supplies," Clauda ordered, wiping her sword on the dead man's armor. "If I remember right, there should be some potions in the barrels."

Neither of the Stormcloaks had any money on them, and their armor wasn't much better than my own, so I turned my attention to the room. A few ropes of garlic and dried Elves' Ear hung from a nearby rack, which I stripped and stuck in my inventory, as well as a few bottles of wine and bowls of salt. How they didn't spill in my pouch, I chalked it up to magic and didn't think about it too hard. There was also half a loaf of bread on the table, which I tore into like an animal.

It was tough, chewy, and a bit too salty, but it hit the spot like nothing else. In a very brief amount of time, I'd been summoned by some kind of capricious god-like entity, managed to trick him a little, then been sent into one of my favorite video-games of all time…except it was the real-life version. And then I'd been nearly executed, then nearly roasted by a dragon about eight times, and then I'd had to watch several people die…and then I'd killed someone.

And in the moments to come, I'd have to kill more.

Swallowing the last bite, I cracked a barrel open with the blade of my axe, finding five minor potions of health, stamina and magicka that I sent to my Inventory. "Done!" I called, grabbing another bowl of salt and magicka potion, along with the five gold scattered on the table next to it. I also grabbed the eggs in the basket.

"I hate that we have this," Hadvar muttered, descending down the steps into the torture chamber. "I hear fighting ahead!"

We rushed down into cage-lined room, two Imperial men fighting off two Stormcloaks, one guy and one girl. "Help me stop her," I muttered to Cella, rushing down the steps to shoulder-charge the other woman in the back. She stumbled back into one of the cages, leaving her open to my grasping hand. I grabbed her by the arm, fingers tingling, and said, "You like me now! You're my friend, you're going to work with us to escape, and the Rebellion isn't smart!"

She blinked at me through glazed eyes, before nodding. "Right, we-" She cried out as a lightning bolt seared her side and threw her to the ground, twitching.

"Yadis!" Cella cried, turning furious eyes on the Imperial torturer as he smirked, "You bastard!" Then she slammed her axe into his chest, the shaft snapping as he spun around and collapsed to the ground.

"Old man!" A big, bald Imperial in heavy armor shouted in distress, turning to my first Stormcloak companion just in time to receive a makeshift spear of splintered wood to the eye socket. He screamed and tottered away, grasping at the broken shaft and yanking it out of his face before slowly tipping over, his heavy armor crashing as he hit the stone.

"That was completely unnecessary!" Clauda shouted, leveling her sword at the unrepentant Stormcloak. "They could've helped us!"

"I don't want help from someone who tortures people!" Cella rebuked sharply, kicking the dead male Stormcloak over to grab the iron battleaxe he'd been wielding. "I'm only tolerating you for Saulus' sake!"

I, meanwhile, had carefully pulled the lady Stormcloak up, leaning her on my shoulder as she clutched the scorched flesh on her side. "Here, drink this," I uncorked a health potion and put it to her lips, tilting it back to pour it down her throat. "Yadis, right? You alright?"

"We Nords are tough," she muttered, heaving herself to her feet with my help. "Thank you, though."

"No problem," I turned to the arguing women and whistled. "Hey! Let's shout at each other when we're all out of this, huh?"

Clauda grunted but nodded. "You have a point," she muttered, glaring at Cella out of the corner of her eye, before kneeling next to the dead Imperial. "Come get this armor, Saulus, I think it'll fit you better. And it's not like he'll be needing it."

Not wanting to bother with all the tedious parts of stripping a corpse, I tapped the body and the Inventory screen popped up. I equipped the armor from there, enjoying the comforting weight of steel on my body. Closing it, I traded the half-broken Hide Shield for a sturdier Iron Shield. "Find any lockpicks?" I asked, glancing at the cages.

"Here," Hadvar said, tossing me a bundle of thin metal instruments. "Looks like there's something in these cages, but I've never been any good at cracking locks."

Nodding in thanks, I knelt next to the cage containing a dead mage, the interface dominating my vision, which I was glad for. I can pick a lock with a bobby-pin and screwdriver if it's simple, but I at least know how the Skyrim lock-picking works. As I got to work, I wondered: what kind of dumbass kept lockpicks in a prison? Then it hit me: I thought of them as lockpicks and identified them as such, but what would thin metal instruments be used for in a torture chamber?

…Ew.

Cracking the lock, I jumped as a quick drumroll rang in my ears and a bar appeared in my vision. Lock-picking: 16. That wasn't going to get annoying at all.

Stripping the dead mage of his goods, I grabbed the gold and the Flames Spell Tome, resolving to read it later. I mean, the books just vanish when used in-game, who knows how cool and mystic they could be as an actual book? Then, I cracked the other cage and grabbed the bone meal of the skeleton inside, which made me wonder: how did an entire skeleton get ground down into a bowl that weighs half a pound? And why was there still a skeleton in the cage?

Questions for later.

Searching the room, I looted some gold and a health potion from a knapsack and grabbed the book about Dragonborns nearby, as well as the steel dagger off the torturer and the lockpicks in the caged room. I also grabbed the spare iron shield and passed it off to Clauda. As we walked down the hall leading away from the torture chamber, I cracked the locks (and two of my lockpicks) on the closed doors, grabbing myself some more bone meal and a purse of twenty coins. Why that was in a cell with a body, I have no idea.

The next room had cages, small ones, hanging from the ceiling and resting on the ground, some containing bones and one, a week-old corpse. Searching them yielded some more meal and gold, and then we moved through the newly-made whole in the back wall and found ourselves in a natural cave system, ice-cold water running a stream next to the path. "More Stormcloaks, up ahead," Yadis called back, unholstering her warhammer. "Should we try and talk to them?"

"Every Stormcloak I've tried to talk to called me a traitor and tried to kill me," Cella shook her head with a sigh. "Are we really that obstinate?"

"Yes," Clauda and Hadvar replied at the same time.

"I hear Susin with them," Yadis said in lieu of reply. "Perhaps she will be more open?"

"Let me talk to her," I muttered, feeling my fingers tingle, "It worked with you guys…girls."

"Good point," The Captain nodded, readying her shield as we stepped into the wider cave. "Stormcloaks!"

There were six of them. Two had been conversing on the lower level, while two more stood on the higher and the last two carried bows, standing on the other side of the cave. They shouted battlecries and drew their weapons, us clashing with them. A male Stormcloak with a shield and axe shouted, "Traitors!" at Cella and Yadis, attacking them with wild, angry swings. The woman behind him, armed with a battleaxe, charged at me with a yell.

Her swing bounced off my shield with a satisfying thunk, my health barely dropping. I shifted my shield and slammed her in the chest with it, sending her tripping back, and I lashed out to grab her hand. "You like me, you'll follow me, Rebels are dumb, etc." I said quickly, pulling her back up. Then an arrow sprouted out of my shoulder. "Ow! Fuck!" Heavy Armor: 17

With a warcry, my new friend spun around and sprinted at the archers, her axe raised high. "…Susin?" The first one asked, his tone heart-broken. Then she split his head in half with her axe.

Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I hefted the axe in my hand and hurled it at the last archer. It spun, end over end, before slamming home in his chest, sending him sprawling back into orange oil on the ground.

Cella hooked the Stormcloak's shield with the bottom of her axe-head, pulling it aside to allow Yadis the opening to pulp his head with her hammer. Clauda and Hadvar had also dealt with their enemies, though the list-reader had gained a thin gash on his left arm. "Everyone good?" I called, glancing at my new wound. Whoever had shot me was good or lucky, because the arrow had slipped right under the steel pauldron and sunk into my flesh. Gritting my teeth, I brought up my healing spell and yanked the arrow out of my shoulder, the soothing chimes, soft glow and comforting warmth wiping the pain away a second later.

Health potions and Restoration, a man's best friends.

"We're fine," Cella said, setting her axe on her shoulder and patting the other former lady Stormcloak on the arm. "Glad you decided to join us, Susin."

Retrieving my axe and looting the body of its bow and arrows, as well as the few coins, I heard Susin reply, "I never realized how pointless the Rebellion was until my friend explained it," she punched my shoulder, smiling softly. "And besides, I could never leave you two alone. We're Battle-Sisters."

…Huh. The dissonance of her saying that after having turned on the other Stormcloaks was…striking, to say the least. My power was more than a little terrifying. I was glad I was the only one who had it.

Regrouping at the far end of the cave, I pulled the lever and dropped a wooden bridge across the gap. As we crossed it, a roar echoed through the cavern, the ceiling shaking as a chunk of stone was dislodged, crushing the bridge into splinters. "Guess we can't go back," Hadvar said lightly, as if we hadn't just barely avoided death by collapsing masonry…again.

"I'm fairly certain most of the keep has collapsed," Clauda muttered, scrubbing her face with the back of her hand. "To think that a dragon could cause this much damage…The Empire is not prepared for something like that."

"Neither are the Stormcloaks," Susin piped up, snagging a health potion from a broken skeleton, tossing the small purse of coins to me. "You think we knew that thing would be coming? It killed just as many of us as it did you."

The cave had become draped in cobwebs, which was our first warning that the next few minutes weren't going to be fun. I held up a hand and crouched, drawing my bow as I snuck forward and peeked at the cavern below. Webs large enough to catch a man, and men-shaped cocoons signalled that this area was home to Frostbite Spiders and sure enough, I could see some cat-sized motherfuckers scurrying about. "Spiders," I whispered and as one, said spiders froze, extending the small legs in front of the mandibles into the air. Shutting my mouth, we waited in tense silence for a few seconds before the spiders went back to moving.

Sneak: 16

Waving my party back, we crept back up the incline. "There's no way around," I whispered, "We're gonna have to go through them."

"How many spiders did you see?" Hadvar asked carefully, pulling his looted bow off of his shoulder.

"Five or so, probably a few more hidden at the top of the cave," I replied, mentally going over how to use a bow. It'd been a few years since I'd shot one, but it would be easy enough. Nock, draw, aim, loose. Like shooting a bike. "Hadvar and I can shoot them from the top of the incline. Hopefully, they'll rush us and bottle themselves up."

"They like to spit poison," Yadis pointed out, getting a grimace and nod from the others.

Us two guys crouched down and snuck back to the top of the little hill, nocking and drawing or bows. I took aim at one of the little fuckers, feeling the tension of the string traveling up my arm, and let go it. The arrow zipped through the air and pierced a spider's thorax. It released an odd, chittering wail that was then silenced by Hadvar's arrow.

The remaining spiders turned towards, flexing weirdly and firing blobs of poison and web. I dodged one and drew another arrow, sending it flying down into another of the skittery little fucks, hitting it right between the eyes.

Even with two dead, they powered towards us like a little furry wall of chittery spider-ness. The whole 'bottling them up' was a good idea, if they'd been people, and not capable of crawling on the walls. I heard Yadis curse behind me, and desperately wished I knew some magic.

And then I slapped myself, because I did. Pausing, I opened the magic menu and selected Sparks, feeling an entirely different tingle travel down my arm. Closing it down, I held my arm up, thin crackles of lightning dancing on my skin, and pushed on the tingles.

Bolts of blue electricity flew from my hand, sinking into the spiders and leaving charred husks behind. It was only after I saw the blue bar at the bottom left my vision beginning to blink and let the spell up, a strange weariness in my bones. Then came the little drumroll. Destruction: 18.

"You know, that would've been useful from the beginning," Clauda muttered, clapping me on the shoulder. "I hear High Elves are supposed to be good with Magicka."

"You'd think," I shrugged, not wanting to admit that I'd completely forgotten about it. I nocked another arrow as we stepped down into the web-hung cave, feeling my arms burn from the strain. Aiming up, I loosed my shot at the top and two spiders the size of a small horse dropped, chittering angrily. One landed right in front of me, mandibles flexing as it fired a poison shot directly at my face.

Letting loose an inarticulate squeal, I dove out of the way and Clauda caught the shot on her shield, grunting as some of the venom splashed on her arm. I flexed my magic again, getting only a pathetic stream from my depleted magicka that still made the huge fucking spider flinch back, opening it enough for the Imperial Captain to close the distance and bury her sword through its head. The crunch of steel piercing chitin was horrifying, but just as satisfying in a weird way.

The former Stormcloak ladies handled the other one easily, Cella hacking a leg off with her axe while Yadis pounded its face into mulch. The cavern didn't yield much in the way of gold, but I recovered a couple of lockpicks from the human bodies and spider eggs, but just by tapping the outer shell. No way in hell was I going to stick my hand in one of those, fuck that.

The next area was another cavern, but much wider, with a stream flowing through it and light shining in from the gaps above. Of course, there was also a slumbering bear at the far end. "Should we try to sneak around? We could try and kill it before it wakes up," Hadvar suggested.

I pretended to look thoughtful, but there was no way we'd be able to get passed that bear, and I wanted the claws and fur to get a head start on Alchemy work. I'd definitely need them. "Better not take any chances," I whispered back, nocking an arrow. "Where's the best spot to shoot a bear?"

"The neck, the eye, and the armpit," Yadis rattled off, pointing out the spots she'd described. "At this angle, I'd say go for the neck or the arm."

Humming in acknowledgement, I drew the bowstring back, took aim, and loosed my shot.

And I missed completely.

My arrow pierced the bear's side and it jumped to its paws with a yowl, turning and snarling. "That was the ribs," Yadis said calmly, "I guess you were aiming for the armpit."

"The neck, actually," I replied, with a calmness I didn't feel. Reaching back, I felt only two more shafts in my quiver and cursed to myself even as I drew and nocked the second to last arrow. It skimmed just over the bear's back hair. "Shit, shit, shit." I nocked the last arrow, pulled the bowstring back, and breathed deeply.

Then, I let go.

My arrow flew and I could almost follow it in my mind's eye as it split the air, whistling softly before it sank deeply into the bear's eye. The beast roared painfully and collapsed, sliding on its face in the dirt until it came to a stop, dead.

Archery: 16

"Look at that, you did it," Yadis clasped my shoulder in congratulations, giving me a slight shake. "Good work. This your first time hunting a bear?"

"Yeah," I replied shakily, shouldering my bow with a sigh. "I need more arrows." I stopped near a wooden cart, taking the two bottles of alto wine and a heavy coin purse into my inventory, and swapping out my light leather helm with a horned Iron Helm. The metal was cold against my brow, but it felt nice after past thirty minutes of fighting and killing. Though, I did wonder how all that had gotten down there. Maybe some Imperials had been doing some smuggling?

Stepping up to the bear's corpse, I opened its inventory and frowned. There was only some bear claws, despite it still very obviously having its hide. "You know how to skin this?" Yadis asked as the others scouted ahead. At my head shake, she held out her hand. "Give me your dagger, and I'll show you how to skin it, and the best cuts of meat."

What followed was a quick, bloody lesson as the former Stormcloak took the bear apart with my Steel Dagger, peeling the hide off, plucking the claws, and stripping the sinews. "Thanks for that, Yadis," I stuffed it all in my inventory and took my cleaned dagger back before helping her to her feet. "It was…enlightening."

"Of course, my friend," she bumped my shoulder with hers, a smile on her lips. It was then that I noticed she had rich brown hair, two simple braids behind her ears while the rest was loose. Her eyes were light green, and over all, she was very attractive. Her Stormcloak uniform, being as skimpy as I'd asked, looked less like something a Rebel would wear and more like she had a tube-top made of leather and chainmail, boyshorts of the same, with the quilted blue fabric acting like a tabard. It also showed off all the muscle that came from a woman who swung a heavy warhammer around; it was all very nice to look at.

Though, the way she referred to me as a friend made me feel a tad guilty. I'd turned the woman against her brothers with a touch and a sentence, and she was smiling at me and treating me like we'd known each other for weeks, instead of the hour it'd actually been. But the feeling faded quickly; after all, what was better for her? Alive and my friend, or a dead enemy?

The former, obviously.

Clauda, Hadvar, Cella and Susin waited for us at the exit of the cave, the sunshine nearly white after being underground for so long. We climbed towards it, feeling the Skyrim breeze on our skin, and exited into the world proper.

Blinking away the light, I saw Skyrim stretch out before me. Snow melted into a riot of colors, green, blue, red, purple, brown, a barrow-capped mountain rising in the distance, fog clinging to grey crags that almost sparkled in the afternoon sun. The sky was blue, streaked with fluffy white clouds that just inched over the mountain's peak. Clean, fresh air melded with scents of snow and flowers, hinted with pine and fir.

It was utterly breathtaking.

Then, a roar echoed through the air as Alduin winged his way down the valley, his black form disappearing into the clouds, bringing with it the acrid smell of smoke and burnt flesh.

I started to freak out.

A high-pitched whine escaped my mouth and I cupped my face, subconsciously knowing that I was hyperventilating and also possibly going into shock. Subconsciously, because the only thoughts going through my head were: I want my sisters. I want my dad. I want my mom! And I am so fucked!

A hand cracked against my cheek, snapping me out of it. I blinked hard, shaking my head and turning to find Clauda with her hand outstretched. "Are you done?" She asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"Yeah," I breathed, clenching my shaking hands into fists. "Yeah, yeah, I'm…yeah…no. No, no, I'm not done, I'm freaking out! I just-I nearly had my head cut off! The guy who was going to do it got exploded by a freaking Meteor that came from a storm that was summoned by a Dragon Shouting! And Then, I nearly got roasted alive several times-and I watched other people get scorched into burnt meat, then had to kill a bunch of people, I shot lightning out of my hands at spiders the size of Cats and then! I killed a bear!" I paused and took a deep, calming breath.

And then I screamed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Turning away from them, I found the nearest snowbank, dropped to my knees, and planted my head in it. The shock of cold helped clear my head, focusing me on the present. The horrible, terrifying present.

I'd been kidnapped by a god-like entity, granted boons because I amused him/it, then thrown into a world I know very well. At first, I thought it would be fun, leaving my family behind, journeying to a new world where I could become someone new.

I didn't realize just how terrible it would be, seeing the destruction that Alduin could bring to bear, hearing and smelling human flesh being charred by dragon fire, killing people with an axe, shooting spiders and bears with a bow…And it was only going to get worse from there. I hadn't fought any draugr yet, or even a god-damned dragon.

But the reality was, there was no way to get back, to renege on the new life I'd been given.

"Alright, Saulus?" Hadvar asked as I removed my head from the snow. "We should get moving, Riverwood's close by. My uncle's a blacksmith there."

"Yeah, I'm calm," I replied, brushing myself off. "Let's go."

I had knowledge, I had skill, I had power and the means and absolute desire to acquire more. I would become the most powerful man in Skyrim and eventually, the lands beyond. I was the Dragonborn, like Tiber Septim before me. There would be no danger I couldn't face, no enemy I couldn't kill, no challenge I couldn't outwit, no depths I wouldn't plumb to seize every scrap of power I could get my hands on.

I could do it. I could become a Legend.

…

…

…I was gonna fucking die.

…

…

…

A/N: Hey, lookit that? Who could've seen this coming? First new story of the year! Whoo!

So, I've wanted to write a Skyrim story for a long time now, but could never really find the impetus to do so until I hit upon an idea, that is to say, and idea that has been used before: Some random god throws some random dude into a new world for their entertainment. And, in this case, gets a little bit of the Gamer power thrown in the mix. But not the full Gamer package, just a slight one that'll help skip the tedious bullshit. I'm kinda bored of the whole Gamer deal, so I like to put a little twist on it.

And that's how we get this story. It was Originally going to be a Parody/Crack story, but I discovered that A: I suck at crack, B: I like drama too much. If this had been crack, it would've gotten halfway done before I gave up and never touched it again. But, by making it a serious, semi-realistic story, I keep myself invested.

And obviously, it's M-Rated. Not just for the violence and language, but also sexy times, though I should state, for the record, that Saul is never going to use his Power to commit any rapes. I should also warn you that, distasteful as it is, rape is still a thing that happens. I can only promise that he won't rape anyone, nothing further. It's all on the table. Like a Scary Buffet. Little bit of brainwashing, little bit of goofiness, little bit of cannibalism, little bit of action.

I've also been disappointed by the lack of good stories in Skyrim. Either they never do what I would've done, being the whole appeal of Skyrim and RPGs in general, or they never get updated.

And I'm looking to change that.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed all this and look forward to more, because trust me, there will be more. I've been playing Skyrim since it came out, there's quite a bit to go through.

Big thanks to NorthSouthGorem, Dairegh, Kurgane7 and AJR3333 (Austin) for their help, why don't you give a look and a shout from your old pal Soleneus?

Stay Awesome

~Soleneus

P.S.: I know some people are gonna bitch about the MC being an Empire supporter, and you're allowed to have your opinion, but keep it to the story itself, okay?

Austin: I wish I could've placed some markers around to mark the points in this chapter where I died of laughter. I swear, dude, not even terrorists have this many kill counts you have on me alone. You can be a real psycho sometimes, you know that?

Also, some people still ask if I'm a guy and I'm wondering if it's because you can shorten my name to Solene. If it is, shit, I'm late to that party.

But yeah, I'm a dude.

Stay Awesome Some More.

~still Soleneus

Also your opinion is shit and you should get a better one. Long live the Empire!

…That's going to be very ironic in the future.