Skyrim: The life of a Dovahkiin

The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim is an open-world RPG with an amazing story. I am here to tell you that story; the story of my Dovahkiin.
It contains spoilers, so if you haven't played the game and you do intent to, don't read this. If you have played the game through, or not going to play it at all and don't care about spoilers, do enjoy my story.

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2. A beheading

Cordelia and the still unnamed blonde Nord looked at each other, and their eyes met.

“Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.” He said without breaking contact, before standing up.

Cordelia was a bit scared, now that she were standing up in the cart and could see the headsman himself, before stepping off of the cart.

“No! Wait! We're not rebels!” The thief cried out in fear.

“Face your death with some courage, thief.” The Stormcloak soldier said with a calm voice, but the thief weren't able to bear the same calmness.

“You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!” He kept yelling, and in the end, Cordelia got enough of it.

”Shut up thief, or I will kill you myself!” Was the first words she spoke.

They lined up, and Cordelia could see the thief literally shaking from fear, where others stood proud in their armors that seemed only to aggrivate the audience.

“Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time.” The woman commanded with a hard voice.

“Empire loves their damn lists.” The blonde whispered and Cordelia couldn't help but to snort.

“Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm.” Were the first name to be announced between the four.

“It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric!” The blonde Nord said.

In the group next to them stood three men and a woman, all of the race of Nords. They all seemed just as proud as the blonde next to her.

”Ralof  of Riverwood.” Ralof. So that's what the proud Stormcloak Soldier were named, and she looked at him as he walked away, almost in pride.

“Lokir of Rorikstead.”

“No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!” He yelled and began to run in an embarrasing way as his hands were bound.

The Imperial Captain shouted back at him. “Halt!” But he just kept running and yelling. “You're not going to kill me!”

“Archers!” The Captain said and two soldiers send arrows after him, and they both hit him at their first tries, sending him gliding along the ground and leaving blood marks.

“Anyone else feel like running?” She asked and Cordelia sank hard. At least now she didn't have to listen to the thief, but it didn't help much.

“Wait. You there. Step forward.” And now it was her own time. Last one in the line. But they did not know who she was, nor what she had done.

”Who are you?” A man with a quill and list asked her.

”I'm Cordelia from the Imperial City... no one special...” If she could hide her reasons for ever, she would die a happy woman.

”You're a long way from the Imperial City. What're you doing in Skyrim?” He asked and checked the list for her name.

She didn't give him an answer and just mumbled: ”None of your business.”

He looked at the woman next to him wearing a pridefull heavy armor. ”Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list.”

Hope shone in Cordelia's eyes, but the Captain did not hesitate to find a solution. ”Forget the list. She goes to the block.”

And the man accepted it. ”By your orders, Captain.”

He looked Cordelia straight in the eyes, and maybe felt a bit of sorrow as this Imperialist were going to be executed for no seeming reason. ”I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil. Follow the Captain, prisoner.”

It didn't really sadden her, that this was how she'd end. Fitting actually. She held her head high in false pride, as she followed the Captain to the others that suffered the same fate.

A man named Tullius were talking to the Jarl. “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 his throne.”

That might be the biggest crime Cordelia had ever heard anyone do, but one thing confused her; The Voice? Ulfric could now only give some muffled grunts and looked with sharp eyes at Tullius, if looks could kill. You could just feel the anger between them.

“You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.” Tullius talked about him as if he was a dog.

As he had just finished his sentence, a big and distant roar echoed from the sky, and everyone looked up, including Cordelia.

“What was that?” A man asked but Tullius ignored the alarming sound. “It's nothing. Carry on.”

“Yes General Tullius.” The Captain said and saluted him along with the others as he walked away.

The Captain then turned to the priestess. “Give them their last rites.”

The priestess nodded and lifted her hands in the ceremonial speech. “As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you-”

A Stormcloak soldier standing next to Cordelia rudely interrupted the priestsess: “For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with.” He walked with haste towards the block.

“As you wish.” The priestess said, sounding offended and quickly walked away with surprisingly graceful steps.

”Come one, I haven't got all morning.” The Stormcloak said impatiently.

The Captain pushed him down to his knees and rested her foot against his back as he laid his head on the block.

“My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?” And with one single swing, his head rolled into a basket and the blood painted the stone.

The headsman had swung the axe so easily, with no hesitation. That was his job after all, but Cordelia still found herself interested in the way he had swung the blade, with little to none care for taking another mans life. She knew the feeling.

A female Stormcloak insulted them: “You Imperial bastards!”

But the audience seemed to disagree; “Justice!” “Death to the Stormcloaks!” They yelled, where after Ralof spoke: “As fearless in death as he was in life.”

”Or just impatient for his end.” Cordelia said and looked at Ralof, who didn't exactly seem to agree.

The Captain pushed his corpse aside as it was still bleeding, and then pointed at Cordelia. ”Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!”

Cordelia knew that it was her the Captain meant, and even though she did her best to come to peace with her fate, it still tugged a bit in her heart and her stomach began tying knots on itself. Before she walked forward, everyone looked at the sky as a roar was heard again, echoing from the mountains.

“There it is again. Did you hear that?” The soldier with the list asked, but the Captain wanted nothing but to continue.

“I said, next prisoner!” Her voice was hard and merciless.

“To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.” The soldier then said.

Cordelia gave Ralof a last look and nodded before walking towards the block with her head held high, ready to meet her end.

She could have thrown up from nervousness.

As she took place by the block, she looked the soldier with the list deeply in the eyes, clearly blaming him for this. Him and the rest of these Imperials, forcing their own kind to become beheaded. The soldier then looked away.

First she felt a hand on her back and short after she head knelt, a foot pressed her hard down against the stone.

She shed no tears nor last words, as she awaited her end.

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