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A carriage pulled by two brown horses moved down the rocky path, following another carriage. Both carried men and women dressed in brown and blue armor. The carriages were guarded by several men dressed in the ever so known Imperial armor. There was only one woman in the second carriage, eyes closed and head bowed, sleeping deeply through the ride. A large bump in the road caused her to jump awake, looking around confused.

She saw the soldiers in their blue armor, and knew instantly where she was. She had been captured by Imperial forces at the border of Skryim. Sighing, she looked to the blonde man across from her, who had noticed her waking.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." He stated, "You were trying to cross the border, right?" He asked.

The woman took her time to observe him, recognizing the armor he wore was that of the Stormcloaks; an army rebelling against the Empire, before nodding. She had been trying to get into Skyrim, when the Imperial soldiers attacked her, knocking her out and forcing her into the carriage. Now knowing that it was the Stormcloaks she was riding with, she knew what was going to happen.

"Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." The blonde man continued, looking towards the brunette Nord in the rags, sitting next to him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skryim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The thief growled, malice pouring into his tone.

"You there," The thief looked at the woman, "you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants." The woman drew her lips up in a snarl, but didn't respond to him.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, theif." The blonde man told him. One of the Imperial guards shouted for them to be silent, but they ignored him.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief asked, looking towards another blonde man, sitting right next to the woman. She hadn't even noticed him. He was gagged, but his eyes spoke for him. She could see the anger in them, but also the frustration. She knew who he was before the other blonde even spoke his name.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" It was an honor to be in his presence, for she had admired the man since he started the rebellion. If only they weren't about to be sent to their death. She wondered how they were captured. There was an ambush, but it seemed to be too easy for the Empire to catch them. Perhaps the Empire was getting stronger.

"Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm?" The thief said it like a question, unbelieving that the man in front of him was really Ulfric Stormcloak. At the mention of her home, the woman felt her heart drop, knowing she might never see it again.

She tuned the talking men out, choosing to lose herself to thoughts of her home. She loved the stone walls of the city, how they separated the damned elves from the rest of the folk, and how close she was to her idol. She was born and raised there, and now she might never be able to go back. Shaking out of her thoughts, she looked around once again. They had arrived.

She had only been to this town once, on a mission to beat up some drunk, but she had seen the chopping block. Everyone piled out of the carriages, an Imperial Legate and another soldier standing in front, facing the line as they called out names. For every name they called, a Stormcloak would walk to stand in front of the chopping block. They called the thief's name. He tried to run, but the archers shot him down. She didn't plan on running anyway.

"You there, step forward." Realizing the command was directed towards her, the woman stepped forth, glaring at the two Imperials.

"Who are you?" The soldier asked.

"Soladat of Windhelm." The woman snarled her answer, hating having to speak to the Imperials. Her eyes were narrowed into a glare, her single dark green eye showing all the hate she had for them, while her left eye, all a milky white, was empty of expression. A scar went through her eyebrow, onto her eye, ending at her cheek; leaving that eye blind. Her pale skin and sandy blonde hair were her defining Nord features. Her the front of her hair was weaved into two separate braids, ending and blending into the rest of her hair behind her ears. Her hair ended at the tops of her shoulders. She had the form of a warrior, skinny but slightly muscular. With high cheekbones and a fine jaw, she looked every bit of a Nord.

The soldier said something to her, something about being a bad time to return to Skyrim, but she ignored him and walked to stand next to the blonde man she had ridden with, Ralof. Soladat watched General Tulius, the worst man in all of Tamriel, talk to Ulfric. She couldn't hear much, only catching something about 'the voice'. Figuring it was just typical Imperial nonsense, she blew it off. If she was going to die, she wanted to get it over with.

The priestess began her preaching, but a Stormcloack soldier interrupted her, heading to the chopping block on his own. Soladat smirked at his bravery, admiring it, but the smirk quickly vanished as she saw his head separate from his body.

"May Talos guide you." She muttered softly, praying for the man.

"Next, the Nord in the rags!" The Legate shouted. A loud roar interrupted. It was a blasting cry that echoed through the sky. No one knew where it came from. The Legit ignored it, once again shouting for Soladat to go to the chopping block. Sighing once more, she slowly moved forward until she was standing right in front of the iron block. She felt the Legate's foot on her back, pushing her down until her neck was at the crescent of the block. She turned her head towards her executioner, glaring him down with her good eye. She refused to close her eyes. It was a good thing she didn't, as another roar had unleashed upon the sky. The roar was followed by a giant, black scaled beast landing atop the tower. Soladat's eyes widened, recognizing the lizard-creature as something from legend. It was a damned dragon. The dragon roared, it's voice pushing the executioner away just as he was about to lower the axe.

"Come on!" A voice shouted, "The gods aren't going to give us another chance!"

Snapping to reality, Soladat stood up; a difficult task with a dead body under you and your hands tied. She saw Ralof beckoning her over, telling her to go into the fort just ten feet away. She followed him, running into the stone tower and slamming the door behind her. Relief overcame her when she saw a group of Stormcloak soldiers taking cover in the building, as well as their leader, Ulfric Stormcloak. She didn't waste time listening to them talking, running up the steps. She barely managed to avoid the dragon bursting his head through the wall. She nearly had a heart attack seeing the creature only a foot away from her. She could feel the heat from his fire breath, but luckily, she hadn't been burned. The dragon pulled away, and flew to some other section of Helgen. She didn't care where the thing went, so long as it was away from her.

"Jump!" Someone shouted at her. She did as she was told, jumping out the hole that the dragon had left, landing in a broken up and burning house. She jumped through the holes of the building, finally landing back on the ground. Without waiting for Ralof, she ran. She ran past the Imperial soldier that asked her who she was, past a child that was about to be killed, only caring to save her own ass.

"Stick to the wall!" Another voice, not Ralof's, shouted. Once again, she did as she was told. Thank Talos she did, as the dragon's wings hit the ground in front of her. If she hadn't stuck to the wall, she'd be injured and hanging from one of the spikes on the dragon's wing. That would be a better way to die than execution, but now that she had the chance to escape death, she wasn't about to let herself die.

"Into the Keep!" Since the random voices shouting at her had helped her so far, she ran into the keep, bursting the door that Ralof stood in front of with her side. Once inside, she felt slightly safer. Ralof followed her in, rushing over to a fallen Stormcloak. He prayed for him, closing his eyes, before standing back up.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it. That thing was a dragon, just like the children's stories and the legends. The Harbingers of the end time." He shook his head in disbelief, blonde hair flaying with his movement. "Come here, let me get those bindings off."

Trusting a Stormcloak completely, she moved towards him, holding out her bound hands as he took a dagger, carefully cutting through the rope that tied her wrists together. She wondered how he had gotten his own bindings off, but didn't bother questioning him. They had more important things to do, like escape.

"Take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore." Nodding, Soladat kneeled down to the fallen soldier, skillfully taking his armor off and removing his war axe. Ralof turned around to give her some privacy as she took off her torn rags, throwing them in the corner. She didn't need them anymore. She pulled on the armor quickly, latching the boots and gauntlets up. They were a little big, but she could still wear them and walk around well. Attaching the war axe to her left hip, she moved towards the closed door.

"Let's get the hell out of here." She spoke, before drawing the axe and slamming it down on the lock. The lock broke and the door opened, allowing the two access to the other side.

"You lead, and I'll follow." Ralof told her, walking right behind her.

They walked through the tunnels, watching out for falling rocks and killing any Imperials in their way. Much to Ralof's displeasure, Soladat would waste time digging through the bodies of the dead, taking their weapons and gold. Her own property had been taken by the Imperials at the ambush. They fought through dozens of Imperials, a group of spiders, and even a bear, looting all the bodies as they did.

Eventually, they found the exit. It was good to see daylight, but Soladat had to admit, it hurt a bit. The bright sunlight was harsh, but much appreciated after wondering through the dark tunnels with only torches to guide them.

Hearing the loud sound of wings flapping against the wind, the two blondes took cover behind a large rock, watching as the big, black dragon flew past them, heading who knows where.

"It should be safe, for now." Soladat said, getting out of cover and watching the creature fly away.

"Aye. Come on, let's head to Riverwood. I have a sister there. We need to warn them of the dragon." Ralof demanded, already heading down the road. Soladat, having nowhere else to go, followed him.

"Have you thought about joining the Stormcloaks?" He asked her as they walked down the dirt road.

"I have." She answered simply, looking straight ahead and refusing to look anywhere else, determined to get to Riverwood.

"So why haven't you?" He asked.

"I don't know." She told him. Ever since she turned eighteen, she was selling herself as a mercenary. She would do bodyguard work, beating or killing nuisances, and just doing whatever she was paid to do. No one ever asked her to join the Stormcloaks, but she knew she could simply go to Ulfric and ask or something. She just… never did. Never had time. "Maybe I will, someday." She added. They remained in silence for the rest of the trip.

They arrived in Riverwood a few minutes later, only covered in ashes and slight scrapes. Nothing serious. Soladat followed her temporary companion to the back of his sister's house. She listened as they talked about the ambush, the Stormcloaks, Ulfric, and the dragon. His sister, Gerder, was kind enough to offer a bed and a warm meal to Soladat. In return, Gerder asked that Soladat head to Whiterun and inform the Jarl of the attack, and ask that he send troops to Riverwood. A bed and a meal for a simple favor? It sounded like a good deal, so Soladat accepted.

"You two go wash up in the lake," Gerder told her, "I'll make supper." The two escapees nodded, before wandering over the edge of the lake, both with a bar of soap in hand that she had given them. Gerder and her son headed inside and her husband followed them, leaving the two alone. It was already getting dark out, leaving Soladat to wonder how long they had been in those tunnels.

Turning away from each other, they disrobed and walked into the water, not once looking at the other. The water was cold, but it felt good. The dirt was already starting to wash away. Soladat rubbed the soap all over, basking in the clean feeling. She could see a bit of dried blood and a bunch of dirt washing away into the water. She couldn't even remember the last time she bathed.

"Haven't even known you for a day, and I'm already naked with you." Ralof joked, still turned away from her to give her privacy. Soladat merely rolled her eyes, before pulling in a breath, and ducking her head under water. After a moment, she popped up and breathed again, finally completely clean.

"Right. Well, I'm out. I'll see you inside?" She asked, stepping back onto land. She picked up a pair of clothes that Gerder had left her, inwardly thinking that the woman was being so kind to a stranger. She pulled the clothes on, happy that she didn't have to put the bloody Stormcloak armor back on.

That night, she went to bed with a full stomach and warm clothes. After nearly being executed by the Empire, then nearly being killed by a dragon, a bath, some food, and some rest was the best thing she could ask for. In the coming morning, she would set off to Whiterun to inform the Jarl of the attack.

Submit an OC For "For Every Shout, There's A Whisper". Here is the form. Fill it out this form and send it in through PM. If you review it, I won't accept it. But also, have fun with it, kay? FOR COPY AND PASTE- CHECK MY BIO!

***Only One Submission For Everybody, Unless I Say Say Other Wise***

General-

Name: (First and Last)

Age: (18-40: For vampires, just pick the age they turned)

Gender:

Race:

Home Country:

Residing in Hold:

Vampire/Werewolf/Normal: (Pick EITHER Vamp OR Werewolf)

Personality:

History: (Also explain how they became a vampire/werewolf if they did. They are allowed

to be in The Companions or the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood or The College. But only one)

Appearance-

Facial Structure:

Skin Color:

Hair Color:

Hair Style:

Eye Color:

Height:

Build: (Lanky, Muscular, Tiny, Fat, etcetera)

Scars/birthmarks:

Makeup/War paint: (Say 'none' if no makeup or war paint)

Clothes: (just clothes- not armor)

Battle-

Armor: (Any kind. I allow certain mod-armors, if you tell me which one or send a picture)

Weapon: (You can be specific, like 'Iron Dagger', or just say 'Bow and Arrows')

Class: (Rogue, Warrior, Mage)

Job: (Thief, College Mage, Alchemist, Smith, Mercenary, Assassin, etcetera)

Perks: (Alchemy, Marksman, Illusion, Conjuration, Block, etcetera- No more than four)

Other-

Worship: (Deity, Daedric Prince, or Nobody)

What Side Of The War: (Empire, Stormcloaks, or no side)

Likes:

Dislikes

Strengths: (No more than 4)

Weaknesses: (at least 3)

Romance: (Would you like them to find love with another OC?)

Attraction: (If yes to Romance, answer what qualities your character would be attracted to)

Why they joined Soladat: (The OCs are going to join the Dragonborn to travel with her and help slay dragons- this question is optional. If you don't fill it out, I'll make something up.)

Here's Soladat's form for an example.

Name: Soladat

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Race: Nord

Home Country: Skyrim

Residing in Hold: Windhelm

Vampire/Werewolf/Normal: Normal

Personality: High and Mighty, she acts like she's the best thing in the world. She's an excellent warrior, and she knows it. She used to be a member of the Companions, but she just sort of... left. She hates any kind of elf with a fiery passion, but likes all other races. She takes pride in her own race and her home. She hates backing down from a fight, but if she feels she's losing, she'll pull out what little healing magic she knows and try to escape. She's very arrogant, and doesn't like talking, she likes to listen to people talk, though.

History: The Thalmore killed her older sister, Sareli. She wasn't old enough to know why they killed her, but she hated them for it either way. Her mother was a Mage, and was trying to teach a fire spell to Soladat. When her parents had gone to bed, Soladat tried practicing her magic. She caught the house on fire quickly, and her parents couldn't escape. She refuses to use destruction magic now.
She lost sight in her right eye against a fight with a pack of sabers, that was when Vilkas and Aela arrived. They helped her kill the horde, and offered her a place in the Companions. Before, she had been wondering Skyrim, working as a Mercenary. She joined the Companions, taking a quick liking to them. A year later, she left and returned to working as a mercenary.

Appearance-

Facial Structure: High cheekbones and defined jaw

Skin Color: Pale white

Hair Color: Sandy Blonde

Hair Style: Front pulled back in braids, ending at the back of her ears to blend in to the rest of her hair

Eye Color: Dark green right eye, blind white left eye.

Height: 5'10

Build: Thin, but muscular.

Scars/birthmarks: Scar starting at her left eyebrow, going onto her blind eye and ending at her cheekbone

Makeup/War paint: dark red eyeliner and faded eye shadow, red lips.

Clothes: Gray commoner dress with blue over-apron and knee high, tan boots

Battle-

Armor: Daedric Assassin Armor

Weapon: Daedric Greatsword

Class: Warrior

Job: Smith

Perks: Smithing, Two handed, Enchanting

Other-

Worship: Talos

What Side Of The War: Stormcloaks

Likes: Smithing swords, listening to people, and reading books on daedra.
Dislikes: Magic, Elves, and heat.

Strengths: She's great with smithing- she can make nearly anything. Not a bad enchanter, but can only do fire and ice enchantments on weapons, and health enchantments on armor.

Weaknesses: magic, sneaking, lockpicking

Romance: Yes

Attraction: Argonian and Nord males. For the Nords- she prefers little-to-no beard. No particular preferences for the Argonians. She likes people who could hold an argument with her, not a total pushover.