The Savior of Nirn

Pecry Jackson fall in to the world of skyrim

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2. bound

 

I woke up on a cart.

My senses slowly returned to me as my vision came back. My hands were bound in front of me and I was sitting on a wooden cart. It was clearly morning - the morning sun peeked in between the snow-covered trees. Only a few inches of snow covered the ground, but it was pretty cold. A man in some sort of blue armor was in front of me, who was also bound by his hands.

"Wh-where am I?" I said, a bit dazed.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake," said the man in front of me. He had a strong Northern European accent. His hair was blonde and braided - something I found odd, but I didn't comment on it. The guy looked like he could beat me to a pulp. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Same as us, and that thief over there."

I looked to my right to see a guy with brown hair and was wearing rags - which, upon looking done at myself, I realized I also had on a similar set of rags. No wonder it was so cold... "Hey." I said in greeting to the thief.

"Damn you Stormcloaks," the thief said, ignoring me. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If it wasn't for you-" he looked pointedly at the guy in blue "-I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He looked squarely at me next. "You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks that the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The man in blue pointed out.

"Shut up back there!" Exclaimed the soldier who was driving the carriage. Jerk.

"So where am I?" I asked once again.

"Why, you don't know?" asked the man in blue. "You mean to say you haven't even heard of the province? This is Skyrim - homeland of the Nords. It's a rugged land - life is short, and hard. Where are you from, prisoner?"

I was unsure what to say until Quaranir's voice burned into my skull. Daggerfall. "Daggerfall." I said, uncertainly.

"Ah, so you're a Breton." Blue said. "Fancy magic, do you?"

"Uh-"

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The thief suddenly said, looked at the last prisoner. He was wearing black fur robes and had his mouth gagged.

"Watch your tongue!" Blue said, sounding aggressive. "You speak to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? But... you're the leader of the rebellion. If they captured you... Gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

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

I tried to make sense of this situation. A crazy guy named Quaranir had dropped me into a cart on a different world, expecting me to find a way to beat the dragon named Alduin. However the cart was taking me, a soldier, a whimpering thief and the leader of a rebellion to our execution. I was a Breton - whatever that meant - and apparently I was supposed to escape from execution with literally nothing other than rags. What the hell!

The two spoke about something whilst I tuned out and tried to piece together what I knew about up to this point. I was in a place called Skyrim, which I figured was like this planet's equivalent to Scandinavia. There was an overarching Empire that was trying to keep the province under it's control, even though a rebellion was in full swing and was started by the man next to me.

I still wasn't sure if I could trust the man Quaranir, but he seemed like a good guy. I was used to betrayal but I didn't think he'd double-cross me. That is, unless he'd sent me to my own execution, which was possible...

I was jolted out of my thoughts when a woman said sharply, "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!"

I sat up. We had arrived in a town. The town was small and very medieval-looking which small, thatched buildings. People were standing outside they're houses, just waiting to see some bled on the snow. "Why are we stopping?" The thief asked, most likely already knowing the answer.

"Why do you think?" Blue sneered as he got up. "End of the line. Come on, we shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." Everyone stood up. Just then, I realized we weren't the only prisoners. Other carriages filled with the rebels.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels! You can't do this!" The thief cried.

"Face your death with some courage, thief." Blue instructed the thief as I jumped off of the carriage last.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The thief pleaded to Blue, but Blue said nothing in response.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!" the woman (who was clearly a Captain) demanded.

"Empire loves their damned lists," Blue hissed to me. I couldn't help but smirk at his poor humor.

The Captain turned to address our group. A soldier next to her said, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

The Rebel walked towards the block. "It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" Blue called out.

"Ralof of Riverwood!"

Blue - or Ralof - went towards his upcoming end without fear.

"Lokir of Rorikstead!"

That must've been the thief. The thief cried out, "No! I'm not a rebel!" He turned and sprinted towards the way we entered the town. He had guts to run, I had to give the poor guy that.

"Halt!"

"You're not going to kill me!"

"Archers!"

Lokir was shot dead before he could get more than 50 yards. Well, there went my one escape plan... "Anyone else feel like running?!" cried the Captain.

"Wait... You there. Step forward," said the soldier to me. "Who are you?" he asked whilst glaring at me.

"Percy Jackson, from, uh, Daggerfall."

"Breton, eh? Well, you picked a bad time to cross into Skyrim, kid." The soldier turned to the Captain. "What should we do? He's not on the list."

"Forget the list. He goes to the block." The Captain instructed coldly. These Empire people were coming off to be jerks.

"By your orders, Captain." The soldier turned towards me. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock."

"How about New York?" I grumbled under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Ah, whatever. Follow the Captain to the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

I followed the Captain reluctantly as she walked towards the block. There must have been an escape somewhere... What I wouldn't do for a plan worthy of Athena right now... I looked around the town square. A gate to my left, but as soon as I moved I would have been shot down. Damn...

"Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero," said the man who was clearly the military leader here. "But a hero wouldn't use a power like the voice to kill to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now we're going to put you down and restore the peace!"

Suddenly, a roaring voice echoed through the land. My blood turned to ice - that was the same noise that Alduin had made when he entered Earth. Was he attacking now?!

"What was that?" A soldier asked.

"A dragon." I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, Breton?" Ralof asked me.

"Nothing." I whispered back.

"Yes, General Tullius!" the Captain suddenly exclaimed. "Give them their last rites!"

A woman who was clearly a priest of some sort spread her arms and said, "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings on the Eight Divines upon ye, for you are the salt and the earth and the earth of Nirn, our beloved-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!" A rebel marched to the block. My mouth dropped a bit - that guy was pretty freaking brave, I had to admit that. He was pushed down by the Captain lady onto his knees.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" the rebel demanded as the Headsman readied his axe. I looked away at the last possible second as a sickening crunch followed.

I turned back a few seconds later. The rebels were all riled up. "You Imperial bastards!"

That sparked some townspeople to yell back. "Justice!"

"Death to the Stormcloaks!"

"You're getting what you deserve, you dirty traitors!"

"As fearless in life as he was in deaf," sighed Ralof next to me as the Captain shoved the rebel's body off the block.

The Captain turned back. "Next, the Jackson kid!"

Already? I panicked in place, not moving for a second. But then Alduin's roar could be heard again. He must've been close, but my stupid hands were bound. I couldn't even fight it if he attacked. "There it is again; Did you hear that?" exclaimed a soldier.

"I said, next prisoner!" cried the Captain.

"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." said the man who asked my name.

Percy walked forward slowly until a soldier gave him a "gentle" push. I shot him a look of death and then proceeded to the block. The Captain forced me onto my knees and my neck was forced onto the block.

Well, that settled it. Quaranir had screwed me over. He'd sent me into this world to die... I shot one last glance at the Captain. Hopefully a look of defiance.

Then Alduin showed up.

The dragon flew into view behind the tower. "What in Oblivion is that?" cried the General.

"Sentries, what do you see?" yelled the Captain.

"It's in the clouds!"

The Headman - who's axe was about to be brought down - fell the ground as Alduin landed on top of the keep. "Dragon!" cried a rebel.

I stayed on the ground, too petrified to move. Alduin opened his mouth and shouted something in the same language I'd heard at Half-blood Hill. A wall of purple something enveloped the whole town of Helgen as I scrambled to get up.

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