1. Act 1 Scene 1
Setting- Dunseinane, a small outpost between Solitude and Windhelm
Benvolio- Stormcloak rebel, Nord, warrior, tries to avoid trouble, age 18
Mercutio- Friend of Stormcloaks, Breton, Mage, mischievous, age 18
Tybalt- Thalmor, Highelf, Battle mage, War hawk, Elf year age 20, human year age 97
Enter Benvolio, Mercutio, stormcloak soldiers
Chorus: Two houses both alike in dignity in ruged Skyrim where we lay our scene from ancient grudge breaks forth new mutiny were civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows doth with their death bury their parents strife and the continence of their parent rage which but their children's end naught could remove.
Benvolio: This bloody civil war has gone on far too long.
Mercutio: Why are you whineing? Was it not your side that started it?
Benvolio: Tis true but its the damned Thalmor's fault? Invade our capital and then try to ban our religion.
Mercutio: Speak of the devil here comes some now.
Benvolio: We were ordered to protect Dunsenaine, not start battle.
Mercutio: I'm not even a Nord. I need not listen to Ulfric.
Benvolio: Then you'd be my enemy.
Benvolio draws sword
Mercutio: No need for that. Just kidding. I would really love to kill a few imperials though.
Enter imperial soldiers
Imperial soldier 1: By order of Geneal Tulius. Lay down your arms.
Mercutio: Make us.
Some lighting effect to make light near his hands
Imperial soldier 1: In the name of the Empire. I order you to stand down.
Mercutio bites his thumb at imperials
Imperial 2: Did you just bite your thumb at us?
Mercutio: No. I am a Bretton. Part elf like your masters. I have no quarrels with you, dogs of the Mer. Though I did bite my thumb.
Benvolio: Don't provoke them.
Mercutio: What can they do? We have this.
Mercutio does a sweeping gesture over Dunseinane
Mercutio: They wouldn't dare attack.
Enter Thalmor led by Tybalt
Mercutio: Speaking of the imperial dog's Mer masters.
Tybalt: Shut youth mouth human.
Mercutio: I'm Bretton I'm part elf like you.
Tybalt: You halflings are an insult to our race. And even the detestable human race.
Benvolio: Sheath your weapons and begone we don't want more bloodshed. Nord, Impereal, or Altmer.
Tybalt: I agree. I would rather no bloodshed. So follow the White- Gold Accord and stand down. Your own government doesn't even like you.
Mercutio: We shall never surrender!
Benvolio (to Stormcloaks): Hold your fire.
Thalmor and Imperials begin firing arrows at the Stormcloaks, who then retaliate firing back.
Mercutio takes an arrow to the knee
Mercutio: Shit, he got me.
Flash of white light
Mercutio: Back you imperial and elvish dogs.
Thalmor and Imperials charge and the two factions clash. There are random flashes of red and white light.
Loud roaring. fighting stops
Tybalt: It can't be.
Benvolio: A dragon!
Both sides begin running towards opposite ends of the stage.
Tybalt: Well meet again and next time, I'll have your head.